Forever

This was one of those mornings was full of four year old drama.
lots of "No's" and "Stop that's" were uttered.
It continued after the kids were gone and finally reached the climax with one giant "I don't like you, Mom", followed by a dramatic exit of the room.

Porter and I continued our routine of me following him around and cleaning up the messes he leaves with every step he takes.

After a few minutes had passed, the four year old made his re-entrance tentatively, with a frown on his face.
I opened my arms for a hug.
The frown melted, the hug was reciprocated.
Then he said,

"Mom, can we still be best friends?"



To which I answered with one giant hug,
one even bigger kiss,

and a very firm yes.

My heros have always been...

My father in law is a cowboy.
In almost every sense of the word. I say almost, because I don't believe he has ever chewed tobacco and spit into a brass spittoon, or ever shot somebody in a shootout at high noon in the middle of a dusty street...
but I have been known to be wrong once or twice.

My little Jonas was the first grandchild, and for my father in law, the first shining beacon of restored hope to have a little cowboy in the family. You see, one by one, all his six children has broken his horse-lovin' heart by pledging their disinterest for the cowboy way of life. It probably has to do with cleaning out so many horse stalls full of manure. One time of that would cure me of horse-love, you can be sure of that.
Anyway, Jonas got a cowboy hat in every size growing up. He has several pairs of cowboy boots, some nice riding jeans, and some chaps... all of which have been good for nothing other than some Halloween costumes.
Until now.

This summer, my father in law's hopes and dreams have come true.



He has found himself a riding partner.



An eager student.



A cowboy in training.



In fact, he may have found himself two.



He can now die happy. But we would all prefer it if he could wait on that for about 49 years.
As for me, I think that all this is cute and everything, but don't you be thinking for one minute that country music is going to get played in this house.

Lines have to be drawn somewhere.

note to self:

dont let the big kids eat their oreos unattended.
human vacuums stand in waiting:





another note to self:
while you are cleaning up oreo mess,
don't leave the days worth of hand picked tomatoes





on the kitchen table





Or the pears left to ripen:



because there is a bottomless pit cleverly disguised a small boy residing here.

home.

A year ago today, the day we moved in:


(I took one single picture and yes, it is blurry. I am careless like that.)

Today:





The backyard, when we moved in:



Today:



We have made a few improvements:
Black shutters
Black doors
Window grates
A garden
Cutting down a massive tree
A basketball hoop
Crown molding in the library
New door nobs
Trees
Bushes
Stupid solar landscape lights

When we got our first home, I remember it took months for it to feel like ours. It took months for me to feel like when I am sick, that it was the place I wanted to hole up in.

But this home felt like home the first moment we stepped in it.
It wasn't the perfect home, it was just ours and I knew it. I love it for that fact. Sure I would love it if I could do my laundry in my house instead of in the garage, and I would like one more bedroom, and I wish that my fake wood floor was real wood, and that I had a fireplace...
But I don't really care about any of that,
because I have a kitchen to cook for my family in,
a kitchen table to sit around and eat and talk and laugh.
a bathtub to fill with chubby babies and bubbles and toys and laughter.
And a garage to park my car in to protect it from the evil white stuff. To keep my hands thawed and my scrapper buried in the trunk.
I still walk in and love it for all it's perfect parts and all it's imperfect parts.

It's just ours.
Happy anniversary home!

new camera!

It's back!


...And pretty much the same as ever.

I had been holding out thinking I would get a real live camera, with real live lenses, but then I realized I have a home and four kids that need food, clothing, shelter, life saving medicines, and silly bands, and I realized that a fancy schmancy camera is not a need. (boo)

So here I am, one cute Canon point and shoot later:



The kids were thrilled to be subjects for me again...




For like, five whole minutes.





But I have commenced the documenting here and on my picture a day blog.

Things you are going to see more of than you ever possibly hoped to:

Sleeping children.




Partially tooth-filled smiling children.




And children who are in the whole it's awkward to be told to smile phase:



So thanks all you friends and friends of friends and complete strangers for sticking with me through my camera-less existence. It's nice to know you were just hanging around for the words.






It's either that or a chance at glimpsing this irresistible mug:







I know, I know... it's the words.

Dear B family,

As you know, The "S" family will be hosting your little caboose girl over at our house for a few days this week.

We regret to inform you that after what we have seen today, we realize will unable to release her back into your care.

You see, we need some extra sunshine.



We need a little more laughter.

Caleb needs a fellow devotee to Dora the Explorer.

And we need someone to be Rapunzel and to help the unconscious prince



by serving him a healing potion



that works miraculously fast.



And Caleb needs a dancing partner. It really is just no fun to dance with your sister.



Our sincerest apologies to any inconvenience this may cause you,

The Swansons

For record's sake...

The family I have is a good one, if only for the fact someone is always making me laugh.
And I am almost always in need of a good laugh.
(I would say chuckle but I really despise the word. Almost as much "moist". Ew... I can barely even type it.)

This week's highlights:
[Hailey, during dinner] Mom, is this healthy?
[Me, grateful chicken nuggets aren't on the menu tonight] Yes, yes it is.
[Hailey, surprised] Wow, I don't even taste the health in it!

[Caleb, upon arriving home from school] Mom, next time I go to school please don't comb my hair!
[Me, confused but not surprised because this is Caleb I am talking to] Why?
[Caleb, frustrated:] Because none of the other kids have to go to school with their hair combed! You be like their moms ok?

[Brian on the phone with me shortly after I asked him to pick up some red grapes on the way home from work.]
"Umm... I am not familiar with red grapes. There are just green and purple."

Truly they make me laugh.
They can make me cry to, but that's a whole other post.

This day

This day has been a long time coming.

I have this little four year old boy that was born in charge.

Serious.

From his first day in this world, he has been announcing to everyone surrounding him that he is the boss.
He is center stage.



What he has to say is of obvious importance. At any time, day or night.



His smile commands attention.



The world surely revolves around him.

Today, he takes on that world.
He is ready show them who he is,
what he has to say,
what he is going to contribute,
and how handsome that smile really is.

This boy starts pre-school.




Watch out world, you are not even going to know what hit you.



(oh and I would like to issue a formal apology to his teacher... he work is cut out for her!)

Please and Thank you

As I mentioned a few days ago, Caleb and I have been reading up on manners. For some reason, being polite just clicked with Caleb and he has been
saying please and thank you and excusing himself every chance he gets. He has been basking in the smiles and attention he gets as a payoff for being polite.

We are patiently waiting for Caleb's example to rub off on the other kids (that is a sentence I honestly never thought I would write, by the way).

The other day I took Caleb to get some immunizations. Keep in mind that this child has seen his sister get about 7 a day for the last year. He has grown used to the sight and the thought, but not had any experience (that he can recall) with actually getting them. He asked me the classic question every child asks,
"Is it going to hurt?"

This is when I went through the classic war in my mind. Do I lie and say NO? Do I answer honestly to prepare him? Do I play it safe and say just for a second, or it feels like a little pinch?

I decided to answer with the latter.

When we entered the little closet-like office, he was calm and flirtatious, in other words, totally himself. He hopped up on the bench pulled up the legs of his shorts and grinned at the nurse. Cool, calm, and collected. She gave him the shots. He didn't make a peep. He took his sucker, (thanked her of course) and we were out the door. As we were driving away I looked at him in the rear view mirror and saw him wiping tears out of his eyes as he said to me,
"Thank you for taking me there, Mom."

You better believe that kid got a happy meal.

OCD

Anyone who has ever had or been near a toddler frequently know that they have obsessions. In my observation, there is usually one major obsession. One thing to hold over their head. One thing you can use to distract from public melt downs. One word that you can say that stops them dead in their tracks.

For Jonas this was any animal. Giraffe, zebra, elephant, ring tailed lemur, narwhal... You showed him an animal and you showed saw a light straight to his soul. I thought there was no other career path for him other than veterinarian.

For Hailey it was princess. Or Purse. Or pink. Or Pretty. Anything doused in glitter or adorned with jewels was a treasure to revere. I never thought I would see the end of that. At 7 but dangerously close to 8, pink is no longer her favorite color and glitter is on hiatus.

For Caleb it was SUGAR. Candy. If he saw some, his mood changed, his countenance changed, his heart beat quickened. His desperation to be near the sugar, to touch the sugar, to taste the sugar was palpable. The child loves his sweets. And that is how I know he is my son.

Now we are to Porter. I have been waiting to see that one thing would be...
Trains? Nope.
Music? Sort of.
Cars? It's a definite like.
Balls are close, but it doesn't hold a candle to the excitement his whole body registers when he sets his eyes on an infant car seat.
Because inside those are the greatest creation in the world:
Babies.
He spots them like a mile away.
Baby, Baby, Baby. Baby. BABY!!
I can calm any impending tantrum by simply uttering the word.
His fascination is total and complete.
He would make a GREAT big brother.


But we all know that ain't gonna happen.


Thank goodness for the handful of cousins coming his way.

starved

Since school has begun, Caleb has had a chance to rule the roost again.
And he has taken advantage of it.

Every inch.

He has played Jonas' DS (something that he is not allowed to do).
We have read books about manners. (and now he says, "please excuse me for a moment" whenever he leaves the room)
We have gone to story time.
We have made cookies.
We have drawn pictures of our family drowning in massive rainstorms.
We have had tickle fests.
We have had marathon story telling sessions.
We have played every single game in the game cupboard.
We have played Mario kart.

We have visited the library, the grocery store, target, and the doctors office, and each time he has had first pick of which hand of mine to hold.
He has had uninterrupted car conversation time with me.

So this morning as we were making lunches, combing hair, finding shoes, ironing wrinkled shirts that were jammed into drawers, signing papers, and cooking breakfast, Caleb got lost in the shuffle again.

Then we put the backpacks on, said good bye and shut the door...

Caleb leaned against the door, sighed, and said,

"Whew. FINALLY some peace and quiet. What's the plan, mom?"

I think someone is soaking in every bit of his last year of freedom.