Blue Skies

This afternoon, the sun came out!

It only hurt our eyes and skin for a short bit.

Then we remembered how nice the sun feels.

I hate video games.

Harsh, I know.

Unless, of course they teach you letters, or math,

or anything useful.

Well, he's only 4, and I'm afraid there is no going back.

No matter if I engage him with wood trains,

playdoh, drawing supplies, pre-K workbooks,

he now knows how fun video games are and will always

ask to play instead of the playing with the great ideas* I may have.

*Yeah, yeah, I know, that is a subjective word.

Henry loves Star Wars.

X-Box now has a Lego Star Wars game.

Henry LOVES it.

I sat and watched as he slipped away into the

rabbit hole of video gaminess as

I yelled behind him "NO! DON'T GO! NOT YET!"

This is how I know he is hooked:

Because that was his reaction when we gave him the "2 minute" warning.

Luckily, Henry still believes us when we say

the TV is about to run out of batteries, so we need to turn it off.

And, oh the horror, should you lose all of the progress you made on

your game.

At least I still have you, sweet, innocent,

non-video gamey Charlie.

Who am I kidding. But at least I still have you Higgins,

because as much as you may want to join in the

video reindeer games, you, my friend don't have opposable thumbs.

Your stuck with me, pal.

You know it's Tax Time when....

Daddy plays "Bring me all of the bullets and Let Me Shoot You With Them."

The boys* absolutely hate this game, obviously.

*If it isn't clear, I have THREE little boys.

** No small children were hurt in the making of this video.

Haircuts & Leggings

After some quality make-out time with the dog....

Charlie thought running around in my knee socks (which

are legging-like on him) was a good indoor rainy-day

activity. Until he bailed for the 10th time,

hit the back of his head on the floor and then, in tears, pulled the

darn legging-like socks off and threw them across the room.

We attempted all-round boy haircuts today.

But of the 3, only 2 came home with cropped coifs.

Charlie threw a complete fit in the chair today and

wanted NOTHING to do with the whole haircut experience.

But I think it was because he knew there were dum-dums to be had

and is just smarter than the rest of us.

Handsome Haircutted Henry insisting I take a picture of his

new hair and taco tongue.

"Bear" - icade

Today on our drive into to school, as we crawled along in the slow drag of traffic,
we came up next to a barricade in the middle lane.

Henry: "What's that, Mommy?"

Me: "It's a barricade".

Henry: "Whats it for? For BEARS?!"

Touche, Henry.

ROAR!

This Discovery View Finder is like CRACK to Charlie.

It is "interactive" in that it describes whatever it is you are

looking at. In turn, Charlie talks back to whatever he is looking at.

Charlie is "ROARING" at the view finder, which

is making Henry laugh in the background which in turn

makes Charlie laugh hysterically.

This is what I call a "Parent Amnesia" video.

It makes you forget all of the whining and fussing

from the morning leading up to this hilarious moment!

The Tear

Charlie is feeling a little blue that it is Monday already.

But don't worry, he snaps out of it very quickly.

Drivers Education

That's an awfully big car for a little man like you!

Meet:

"Driver in Training"

And

"Along for the Ride"

Frightening, I know.

Helmet Safety

I'm fairly certain that this is not what the

Helmet Company had in mind.

Dog War

Today, Charlie fought the Dog.

And the Dog won.

THE DIMPLE

*wink*

I'm not sure what I like best in this photo.

Your cute little teeth?

Your messy hairs?

Your crazy long eyelashes?

Or the dimple that should charge admission just to look at it.

Yep, I think I love all of it.

It's like looking in a mirror

Or through a sliding glass door.

Crabby See, Crabby Do

Henry, imitating the crabs open mouth.

Funny Boy he is, Funny Boy.

A Mad, Mad Scientist

At least it appears he puts safety first.

The Imperial Shuttle & its Little Tiny Men

We've recently taken on a new form of dicipline (term used loosely)

with Henry...more of a "positive reinforcement" approach to

some unwanted behaviors.

This weekend, Henry had enough "good stickers"

that he got an Imperial Shuttle.

And if it is unclear in the photos, he thinks it is the cat's meow.

The Shuttle came with two teeney, tiny little men.

Look carefully at the photo below.

Do you see him?

Henry said he was "fixing the shuttle".

Here.

Maybe this closer shot is better.

This will be a nice memory photo after I've sucked the teeny tiny little man

into the vacuum (by accident, of course!).

Hmmmm...how do I put this delicately?

On Sunday, we had the Sunday paper laying around.
Henry zeroed in on the front page of the Fred Meyer ad.
I saw him looking at it, and looking at it and pondering
(he puckers his mouth when he is deep in thought).

Then he asked me if that (pointing to the leg) was the chicken's leg?

"Yes, that is the leg." I replied.

"So, is this he's buns?" Henry asked.

"Yes, I suppose that technically are his buns" I replied, happy he used the PC term for our house.

Long pause....silently praying that this wasn't going to go any farther.
(For those who don't know, I don't love working with whole dead chickens)

"Where are his eyes?"

"He doesn't have eyes....er, he is a 'cooked chicken'", I said, slightly unsure of myself, hoping my Back Up* is on his way into the room.

* Nathan.

Henry thinks about this for a while.....

"How sad.....A chicken who doesn't have eyes....."

And that was that. Phew!

Hotel Swimming Pools

Before kids, I didn't really care for Hotel swimming pools.

Over chlorinated, rogue hairs floating amok,

dirty pool decks and obnoxious kids.

Now?

It's why we pay ridiculous amounts of money to

stay somewhere other than the comforts of our home.

We just got back from Cannon Beach, but forget the Beach.

We only saw the pool....and ate...and swam....and ate..and swam.

We may have actually logged more time in the pool, than we did sleeping.

I'm just sayin'.

Meet "no fear" and "too young to have fear":

I'm convinced Charlie feels more at home floating in water

than anywhere else.

Even as a fussy baby, if he was floating, he was silent and completely content.

And this guy. We had to put water wings on him because he thinks he

is invincible and does not want help from anyone.

Charlie even figured out how to float all by himself!

Oh, and here is Haystack Rock.

Thankfully, it was right outside our room, otherwise, we

may not have even seen it this trip!

And today, I saw flashes of my future of raising fearless boys:

I'M NOT TIRED! I DON'T NEED A NAP!

Okay, Henry. Whatever.

The ROCK

It's a very healing rock

And we will be spending some quality time with it.

I LOVE this place.....and so do 3 others here with me.

Oops.....I did it again!

I did it. Again.

My little brain is totally full.

At this point, it only retains items of critical importance.

For example:
1. Don’t walk out the door without clothing
2. Feed your children. Feed then whatever, just feed them.
3. Smell Charlie’s diaper before you leave and determine the severity of the stink.
4. Make sure your kids are wearing shoes and preferably they match one another.
You know, things like that.


My brain is clogged up with things. This happens every once in while.

For example:
Did I really email my very important proposal two days late and without spell checking or really even reading it through in its completed entirety because I am so busy at work?

The dog peed on Henry’s bedding on Tuesday and I still am not through the 5 loads of laundry that it is taking me to clean it up because I only have time for 2 loads each day.

We have no fat free milk in our house, or juice which is kind of important and can initiate a nuclear meltdown if left unaddressed.

Two different managers have given me two large projects with the exact same turn around time in the last 24 hours and I fear I cannot accommodate either of them. But in the end, I don’t have a choice and will have to find time.

My headlight burned out and I tear up because it is going to effort to fix it.

My gas light came on today and I tear up because on the way home all of the petrol stations are on the other side of the street.

Apparently Charlie pees in the potty on a regular basis at daycare and I had no idea until yesterday. And that makes me feel awful.

By the time my brain stops thinking about work in its frantic matter, it is 9:30 at night and I am ready for bed, but can’t remember if I had a good night with the kids, or if I am recalling the previous night with the kids.

When I read contracts at work, I sometimes only see unrecognizable symbols and have to read the same sentence 3-4 times to understand it. This becomes really awful when someone is standing over me for feedback.

I constantly think about Charlie and whether he is chewing all of his food and cringe slightly when my phone rights at meal times since he choked on mango and had to have the Heimlich performed on him last week.

And all of that would be ok, if it (for the most part) just affected me.

But today, as we walked into pre-school, all of the kids in Henry’s class were in pajamas.

It was pajama day. And I forgot. Again.

My stomach sank into my rearend. And I wanted to slink back out the door as I saw the look on Henry’s teachers face, which silently said:

“sorry!…..its ok! Don’t worry about it! He’ll be fine!”

as she sits all fuzzy, cozy criss-cross applesauce reading a book to 4 other pajama’d 4 year olds, who I swear were staring me down, their eyes saying:

“how dare you, you, you horrible, evil, neglectful, poopy-clogged brained mother!”

as they looked Henry up and down in is everyday rags.

My mind wanted to start the Blame Game. Please, sweet Jesus, let this be someone else’s fault just this once. But it was my fault. I missed it. I printed the weekly schedule, but it does nobody any good in my computer bag, which is where it has been since last Thursday.

Just like at Halloween time, when this exact same thing happened, Henry looked at me and said with a question mark, not asked, said

“you will go home and get my pajamas and bring them back to me?” and when I said that I will bring them at lunch he said “no, you are taking too long. Go to your office and then go get my jammies”.

I immediately started scrolling through the 2 page to do list I have a work for the day and try to determine when today I can right this wrong. I knew that unless I fixed this, I wasn’t going to be able to concentrate at work….so I drove to the store, bought new pajamas and brought them back to Henry. I pulled Henry out of music class and changed his clothes as he bounced up and down the whole time and just kept repeating how he can’t wait to show his friends. And without even a hug, a kiss or a tear (all of which I needed from him at that moment), he bounced back to music as his 4 dude friends gathered around him to scope out his new jammies. And I walked away.

In this busy, overwhelming week where I am feeling spread way too thin and can’t quite focus on one thing or make anyone happy when I am trying to make everyone happy….I made Henry happy. And it felt ohhhhh so good.

During crazy weeks like these, I know Nathan thinks I am sitting at my desk with a crazed look in my eye and laughing hysterically at absolutely nothing. He’s not entirely wrong. I do happened to have a crazed look in my eyes, but only because my contacts get so dry by the end of the day, I can only see parts of things. The week is almost over and then we can all sigh with relief that we won’t have to go through this again with me for another few weeks. Ahhhhhh.

PS…And just incase you are wondering, NO…this is not PMS, its called LIFE.

MUUUUUAAAAHHHHHHHAAAAAA!!!!!

The best part of waking up....

Is hearing Charlie bid you "Good Morning!"

or as Charlie prefers to say "ah Moning"

Have a Good Morning!

Who Knew?

Today was Face Painting Day in Henry's Preschool.

His teacher asked "If you could be anything, what would you want to be?"

(from a face painting perspective, that is.)

Many kids said:

"Spider Man"

"I want a Star"

"I want a heart"

Etc.

Henry, what do you want to be?

A mole.

That's right. A mole.

The sweetest, quietest little mole.

I love you mole, and your hysterically fussy brother.

Charlie vs. The IPhone

He's not even 2. We are in deep, deep doo-doo.