I am Lazy.

While grocery shopping, I surveyed my cart and realized I am very lazy. Almost everything I pick is geared towards fasted preparation possible.

Instead of reaching for the entire watermelon, I will pay more to have it presliced and put in the plastic container.

Same thing with the celery sticks. Not only are they pre-cut, they also have the little mini dipping sauce included in the packaging.

The list goes on the with ceasar salad, the chicken and mash potatos that just need reheating, or the romaine lettuce pre-cut.

I even bought a pre-assembled sandwich.

Really, how lazy can I be? Going the easy way out even though it is twice as expensive.

And for my mom, who always loves to see pictures of my boys:

Ligthening Stickers

The first fight caught on camera

Uncle Justin the Rock Star

No Stall

This past summer, I really thought Kayden was out of his Cars phase.

Sure, he still loved to play with them on occasion, but it looked like LEGO'S and trains were headed to the top.

Enter: preschool, and Lightening Lover.

Lightening Lover is another little boy in his class, and he really loves Cars. Donning the backpack when he enters school, the Cars Valentines, the car haulers, and most importantly some of the Cars Kayden is coveting.

Specifically, No Stall:

The last time we were at Meijers, there is was sitting on the shelf, at eye level, just beckoning Kayden to pick it up and beg for it.

And beg he did.

I really did not want to spend $8.99 on this car, just because it has the launcher. So, I told Kayden that he would have to earn it. I think it sounded like yes to him, and since he had no clue what that meant he was as excited as could be.

The whole way home we talked about our new sticker chart and how he would do things for mommy and earn stickers. Once he got up to twenty stickers, he would get No Stall.

The five things we choose to focus on were:

~Get dressed without a fight

~Wash your hands after going potty

~Put your coat and shoes away

~Pick up the other Cars

~Put dirty clothes in hamper

This all sounded great, until he found out he only gets ONE sticker for each thing per day. Time and again he would wash his hands and run into the kitchen, "I am ready for four stickers, mom!"

The concept, for the most part, was lost on him as he tried to earn stickers.

Twenty stickers were achieved on Thursday, just in time for him to bring it to preschool to show Lightening Lover.

As we were laying in bed last night talking things over, the subject came up.

"Mom, like, I don't want to earn them anymore," he said. " I just want you to give them to me like Lightening Lovers mom does. He does not have to do stickers."

Already trying to guilt me at four years old.

More random pictures

The tradition after each and every basketball game.

Two of the most non-competitive people I know. Look at those casual stances while playing Wii tennis.

Concentration

All the grandkids on the Bird side. Sorry for cutting your head off, Kyler.

Adorable.

It is coming. I am hoping he will hold off until his Birthday.

Doctor Bird?

Remember that Doctor kit Kayden threw back at me this past birthday?

Even when being the victim of shots and pretend medicine, Bryce is more than willing to oblige if it involves Kayden playing with him.

I get it.

I was watching the Anne Curry interview with the Octuplet mom today.

What a cuck-a-doo, I thought, for most of the interview. I mean, 14 kids? As a single parent with no income? Come-On.

Then something she said really made sense to me. She was talking about how she loved that bond between baby and mom. How happy she was holding them as babies....and I get it.

I really do.

I LOVE babies. I was holding a little 9 pounder on Sunday morning, and the grunting sounds she whispered into my ear reminded me just how short lived that "baby" stage actually is.

The scent of baby lotion, the teeny toes, the peaceful way they slumber, the wrinkly skin waiting to grow...I love it all. Even though I enjoy Bryce getting bigger and taking on new challenges, part of me grieves that he is no longer that "baby-ish". As I talk to more and more women, I have heard that it takes a while for that longing to pass.

I can say this. There is one thing that would stop me from having fourteen kids, though:

This guy.

He is good with two.

I mean, other than the money, housing, Christian schooling, lack of time, transportation, and post-pregnancy body issues.

Brutal.

It all started with a thud.

Josh and I had a surprise birthday party to go to this evening for his mom. He had just returned from the post office, and it had taken longer than he thought to mail today’s packages.

We were all scrambling. I was in the upstairs bathroom trying to get dressed, across the hall from Kayden’s room, when I heard it.

A giant thud.

I paused for a moment, wondering if it was a Kayden thud or a Bryce thud. I heard Josh say “Oh Crap.”

I knew it was Bryce.

I hurried to the room to see if Bryce was okay. Josh was just picking him up off the floor. He had fallen off the bed.

I looked him over to see if he was okay, and he was acting really strange. Wearing a white onesie, his skin was the same hue. Ghost like, actually. His back was arched, and his eyes were rolled back in his head. His mouth was gaping open, and he did not have control of his head.

I told Josh I wanted to take him; I thought for sure he would let out a large scream.

Nothing. No crying, no tears, no sound.

That part was even scarier than a loud wail, honestly.

As I took him, the weight of his head slammed into my chest. He had no control over his head, and his right arm was limp and his back was still arched.

I lifted him up to my eye level, and tried to see what was going on. His eyes were glazed, and he looked unresponsive. He could hardly pick up his head to look at me.

I ran over to the mirror to see his full body. His eyes were still pretty glossy, and he was not moving his little arm.

A huge knot began forming in my stomach.

I ran downstairs, intent on calling the paramedics, and THANK GOD he looked up at me and smiled. I just kept checking him over and over to make sure he was, in fact, looking at me. He would put his head on my shoulder and I would prop him right back up to make sure. It took another seven minutes for him to start using his arm again. I was very, very scared.

We got to PT with kids like this- kids that have fallen off counters/beds/high surfaces and have serious brain damage. One of the moms I talk to every week has 18 month old twin boys- one had been dropped and landed on his head and has trouble with speech, balance, and motor skills. Visions of that flashed through my head.

I feel so blessed that he snapped out of it.

Trying to keep focused, we scurried to still make it to the surprise party. We ran every yellow light (except the one with the cop sitting at), trying like mad to get there on time.

We arrived five minutes late.

Nice.

Happy 60th Birthday, Mom.

I walked in, saw that we had ruined the surprise, and burst into tears.

Frazzled and embarrassed, we took our seats at this fine dining establishment.

Kayden looked so tired while we were waiting for our food. He just sat with a blank stare on his face, playing idly with the forks. Usually full of energy, I thought to myself that he needed to go to bed early.

I just started cutting Josh’s steak (don’t ask LOL), and Kayden threw up all over the table. And it was not like the, “oops, that is hardly noticeable”. It was six times, keeled over hurling on the floor, all eyes on him, all over my pants kind of throw up.

Brutal.

Brutal, Brutal, Brutal.

I give. It is ten pm, and I am going to bed.

This year, more than any other, I am SO ready for Spring.

It has been a cold and LOOOONG January.

Sigh.

The location was a place I knew well.

I graduated high school in that gym. Matter of fact, I got in trouble for blowing up a beach ball and hitting it into the crowd of my fellow seniors.

The drinking fountain is still unpredictable in it's flow.

The folding chairs sit just right of the basket, the principle making his presence known in the lead seat.

The cheerleaders prancing on the sidelines, more interested in their perfect spin than the actual score of the game.

That section of four kids in the first row that have way too much school spirit. Clothing themselves in face paint, two mis-matched socks with said school colors, hair bandannas, and any other silly fixture to prove they hold the title for most school spirit.

The mom that watches with pride as her son gets in for the last twenty seconds of the quarter.

All the players are the same, and yet it feels so different.

During high school, basketball games were the event on Friday night. You had to get there an hour early to even get a seat. Everyone was at the basketball game.

We used to bring in newspapers and as their starting line-up was called, shout out "WHO CARES?". We would chant Go Home, Go Home to the opposing fans if the score went up by ten points. We all wore matching tee shirts, for crying out loud.

Where are all the fans?

I have yet to see a high school game with even a quarter of the bleachers full. They do not even bother to unfold the last section.

I guess I am nostalgic to a fault. The thought of a whole town gathering together to root on the home team just gives me the warm and fuzzies.

Why don't people go anymore?

Down time

Josh and I were talking in our bed last night before he went to bed and I went to work, and somehow both boys ended up in there with us. I do not know why, but Kayden is so much more talkative at bedtime.

The conversation went like this:

K: Mom, tell me a story
M: What kind of story would you like?
K: One about Bayden.
Bayden is the alter ego of Kayden. The naughty boy who hits his Grandma, or draws on my counters, or spills the chocolate chips.
M: Okay. Once there was a boy named Bayden, and he loved his mom very much.
K: Yeah, Mom. I am gonna marry you.
M: Your gonna marry your mamma?
K: Well...no. I guess I don't want to get married. I'm too little and your too old.

Then, he thought about it and added, "I think in maybe, like, 14 days I will be old enough."

I visualize the future with them as teenagers. I can see myself looking back to these days and how idyllic this stage of life is. The problems can be solved with a bandaid and a kiss. A 99 cent car makes their day. I know time marches on and so must I, but sometimes I wish that I could keep them this age forever. Innocent, naive, sweet, happy-go-lucky little boys.

It could be a good thing we did not have a girl.

I found this new site that you can put two photos in and get the results for what a joint baby would look like.

Results:

Okay, I will never have a child that looks like this. Unless I marry a different dude.
Oh my word.

A head wrap?

A joint little boy. I see some resemblance:

Torticollis

Five months of driving to Spectrum Downtown.
30 minute sessions.
3 times a day, 2o minutes each of physical therapy at home

and we finally have a neck that is straight.

Good going, Bryce-y Boy.

You've got to have passion, right?

This whole article just cracked me up.

The good stuff:

"Sea kittens" is the new term being used by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, for the creatures they believe are in dire need of an image makeover: fish.

"PETA thought that by renaming fish sea kittens, compassionate people who would never dream of hurting a dog or a cat might extend that sympathy to fish, or sea kittens," PETA campaign coordinator Ashley Byrne says.

"Most parents would never dream of spending a weekend torturing kittens for fun with their families, but hooking a sea kitten through the mouth and dragging her through the water is the same as hooking a kitten through the mouth and dragging her behind your car," Byrne says.

One of my favorite songs as a child was "God Loves to Talk to Little Boys While Their Fishing." My mom would play it on the piano and we would all gather round to sing of a little boy in the quiet with God, and how fishing seems to be the time boys' listen best.

Somehow "God Loves to Talk to Little Boys While Their Killing Sea Kittens" just doesn't have the same ring.

The Battle of the Wills.

One 24 ounce bag of chocolate chips was the culprit. Somehow, it found it's way to the floor, strewn about like some little boy had dumped the entire bag upside down.

Sick of picking up toys/food/spills/messes again and again, I consulted with said little boy.

"Did you dump that bag of chocolate chips?"

"No, you dumped it out Mom!"

First Round Time Out, 2 minutes

Out of time the little boy came, thinking it was quite pleasurable to play with 24 ounces of chocolate chips. Roads were being paved, baskets were attempted into Bob the Builder lunch box...picking up was quite fun.

For about 6 oz.

Second Round, Time Out, 2.5 minutes

Upon entering round two time out, little boy kicked over Bob, the collector of chocolate chips.

Back to 24 oz.

Another 45 minutes of picking up ensued, with lots of encouragement from mom in the form of yelling. The end of Round Two pickup left melted, sat-on chocolate chips on little boy buns, messy fingers, and a steel resolve from mom that she was NOT going to pick up one chip.

Upon noticing Mom's eyes were getting droopy, little boy pounced and tipped over 14 ounces of chocolate chips into the dump truck nearby. "Oh What Fun!", the little boy proclaimed.

"Pick them Up", said the Mom.

Off to Bed, went the boy, for Round Three Time Out when he disagreed.

Round Four started with 14 ounces of chocolate chips back into Bob. Current Time elapsed is well into the 100 minute mark. Tag-team commenced with Daddy's arrival, just in the nick of time. Mom's patience was running out.

Round Five and Six Time Out came with Daddy at the helm, but Mom did not pick up one chocolate chip.

What a sweet victory indeed.

It is not the best picture...but don't you just love how excited he is to jump in?

UPDATE

So, I just want to clear things up a little bit.

First, I really was not trying to get everyone all riled up about the Christian Reformed church. I honestly did not know if we were graded, and was hurt, and knew you guys would know the answer (and I thought maybe you got graded too, or knew some explaination). Obviously, it was a big misunderstanding.

I was called and apologized to, and I honestly can say I harbor no ill feelings. I did not get the joke, but now that the full situation has been explained to me...I am over it. The person that did it feels more horrible than I could ever make him feel, and apologized so many times. I just did not get the joke, and that is that.

:-)

I do have to say how impressed I was by how our pastor handled it. I felt a little bit stupid calling him, and the kindness and listening skills demonstrated are rare.

Hmmmm...interesting.

This morning at church, I absently took the piles of papers out of my church mailbox-little bulletins of events coming up, various religious publications, etc. Once I settled into my seat, one plain white envelope with our names neatly written across the front in red letters caught my attention.

Curious as to what it was, I paused for a moment before lifting the flap and sliding out the contents.

Enclosed was my financial giving statement, and the most curious part to me was what was scrawled across the top corner in bright red pen. A grade.

C+

with a frownie face.

It initially made me defensive. A few months ago, we signed up for automatic withdrawal because we wanted to make sure we were giving our first fruits, even when we could not make it to church. I have thoughts on this that I won't get too far into here. I love the ease and convenience of it, but sometimes feel the act of giving part is taken out. I digress.

The whole situation hurts my feelings, honestly. Mostly because I feel like I have been giving an A effort, and there have been months it has been a struggle for us to give. I feel like it is ultimately between God/Josh and I. Why would the church give me a grade? How would they even know what grade to give, more less a bright red frown face?

It is a CRC thing? Growing up baptist, we did not get grades. As a matter of fact, no one should have known what our giving was (although I am sure that information was divulged anyway).

Getting a grade for it just feels....like a church thing instead of a God thing.

Making a List

Around December 20th, I took a look at the week and a half of Christmas break and had grand ambitions.

~Paint the back family room, a lofty goal indeed
~Get my website updated and organized
~Bag and Tag 200 bags
~Clean out the storage room
~Clean off my desk
~Get my Christmas pictures of the boys in frames
~Actually write a Christmas letter
~Add the three new wetbag styles I have had sitting downstairs for, oh, months
~Watch a few movies with Josh
~Start exercising
~Do my Bible lesson for the next coffee break...so I am not doing it the night before
~Clean out the playroom

Such grand, grand intentions. None of this list has been accomplished, but it is only Wed. right?

I have been doing lots of fun and relaxing, so I suppose that is a good thing. Playing with the kids' new toys, going to Chicago, hanging with extended family, and pretty much everything except working or cleaning the house. It is Toys R' Us over here.

Maybe I should just concentrate on one or two of these as opposed to trying to tackle the entire list?

How did this kid get SO big? He looks like he is ten!

Christmas

Lots of fun, laughing, and relaxing. Kayden was far less concerned with what was inside than ripping open the package as quickly as possible and begging for the next round. He loves to open presents.

We ate well. Dieting starts Thursday, right?

My little guy has been ready to crawl for a while. The picture above is taken four weeks ago. Content to just sit and watch, his easy-going disposition is an even trade for being a late bloomer.

One glance at him, and this is what I get in return-

.....except when trying to get Christmas pictures in the sleigh.

Going

Going

Gone


Hope you had a wonderful Christmas as well! Rejoicing over the birth of our Savior with family and these two precious boys was joyous indeed.

Happy Anniversary, Josh.

Most of you know how Josh and I met, and someday I will actually sit down and write it all out for those of you that don't. For today, though, I want to fast forward to Christmas, the first time we saw each other again after I flew out to CA to meet him.

He had just met my family, and was standing in the kitchen of my mother's house with my brother. It was late in the evening, I want to say even early morning, and Josh was just headed back to his parents house to sleep. After he left, I overheard this conversation.

My brother turned to my mom, and said he really liked Josh.

Mom: Why do you say that? Is there something that makes you say that?

Brother: Well, every time Jamie is in the room, he is watching out for her. He can't take his eyes off her. I can just tell he really loves her.

Thank you for moving to Michigan when you really (really) did not want to.

Thank you for holding my hand in the airport, obsessing with me as I clutched that tiny ultrasound picture of Kayden after his twin was lost.

Thank you for not taking the two stunning prostitutes up on their offer in Hawaii.

Thank you for always being willing to help out in any way that you can. I never hesitate to offer your services because I know without a doubt you would drop anything to help someone.

Thank you for letting me socialize (sometimes at great length) after church.

Thank you for these two wonderful beings that are my life. You are a good dad.

Thank you for supporting me every step of this beautiful journey.

9 years later. Thank you for still loving me like that.

TEMPTED

Confession: Tonight I was tempted to dig out the Melting Pot Certificate and use it. MMMM...chocolate. Maybe we should set a date in January?

Oh, but it hurts....

Tonight we went to a basketball game, first of the season.

As soon as we sat down, Kayden spotted kids playing on the court that runs parallel to where the game resides, so I told Josh to watch and we headed down so he could run around.

After a few minutes of standing shyly by, soon Kayden felt comfortable enough to start running the length of the court. A little while later he spotted a group of all girls his age, and I settled in with Bryce to watch the game.

I watched as three of the girls ran under the bleachers and Kayden hesitantly stood at the entrance. I got up and walked over.

"Can I go find the girls, mom?"

"Yeah, that is fine with me," I said, glancing into the darkness. I ticked off in my head all the things that could go wrong with letting him go.

What if he gets to the other side and does not know how to come back, what if he hits his head on a beam, what if he gets scared of the dark, what if , what if, what if.

He turned to me, weariness in his eyes seen through the shadow of the bleachers. "You come," he pleaded, teetering on the edge of independence.

"No, go ahead, honey."

I watched as he hesitantly lifted his foot up and jumped over the metal divider, his little shadow hopping into the darkness, a small piece of dependency slipping by.

I almost started crying.



Fast forward two quarters. Kayden has now linked comfortably into group of said small girls, two of them daughters of another coach. Kayden has shared his cars (no small feat in my book, as they are prized possessions), and they have been chasing each other around most of the game using the floor lines as roads.

At one point, the girls huddled into soccer nets positioned against the walls proclaiming they were "girl forts". Two of the girls linked their faux fur coats into the holes of the nets, hanging neatly in the "closet". Wanting to be included, Kayden climbed under the netting to induct himself part of the club.

You know when you sit back and watch as a parent, and it is so hard to NOT step in? This was one of those moments.

I look and Kayden is standing in the netting, and by that I mean he had his nose mashed into the goal post, part of his upper lip being lifted by the bright yellow netting. He is staring at the game, singing some sort of odd tune only he can hear shifting side to side.

One of the little girls yelled, "Get out of here, only girls allowed".

"Leave him alone, I know him." said one of the siblings.

It took all within me to let them work it out.

I look back and all the girls start filing out from said fort to jump to another goal.

Kayden still standing with his mouth in the net. Oblivious.

"It kills you to see them grow up, but I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't." Barbara Kingsolver

It is hard to let go.

Great Wolf Lodge

After seeing Chelle's excellent adventure to Splash Universe, we thought we might like to travel there for an overnight visit for my 30th birthday.

Until we read the reviews.

Something about how the water looked like "a sea of people" in almost every comment gave us pause.

Off to Great Wolf we went instead. That place is an experience.

We were so blessed to arrive to an empty hotel. Rows of vacant chairs and lifeguards waiting for us to ride. I even got an hour "just Kayden and mom" time late Friday night. I love that.

Bryce decided against sleeping during the night, so Josh was wandering the halls with him. The night manager was slipping bills under the door as Josh turned the corner. Needless to say, he was not expecting a 6'8" dude. Bribery ensued when he brought Wolfie as an apology.

I have heard wonderful things about Great Wolf, and I could not have been happier with our stay. It is an experience. From the rooms to the hallway decorations, the water park, the milk and cookies brought by "Big Wolfie". We loved it. Already planning a trip back.

A few pictures:

Overheard....

Santa: What would you like for Christmas, little boy?

Kayden: Um, like, I think I would love chicken nuggets for Christmas.

Granted!