Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Liberated
I had an epiphany this week. A huge epiphany. Sunday morning I left for work and realized about five miles down the road that I had forgotten my phone. Mild panic set in. I almost turned around, but something inside of me said just keep going. And so I did. Surely I could survive eight hours without a phone. What I learned was very eye opening. Lately I have been wanting to remove distractions from my life. Going back to simpler times, back to the basics. I found myself constantly on social media, aimlessly scrolling one post to the next. For what purpose? Absolutely none. It was a habit born from boredom. Waiting on an elevator, looking at FB. Eating lunch, looking at Snapchat. Watching tv, looking at Instagram. For some reason cell phones have made us wired to constantly feel the need to be doing SOMETHING. Whether it be, internet shopping, playing games, texting, emailing, or surfing social media, cell phones have placed the world at our fingertips. Constantly entertained by something other than actual human interaction. All the while, missing out on what life is really about, the moments made outside of a glass screen. When you don't have your phone you really realize how much people's lives (including mine) revolve around that little hand held piece of technology. Everybody, except me, was looking at their phone. I feel like the art of making good conversation is becoming extinct, being replaced by a glowing tiny screen that will never talk back to you (except when annoying Siri, who never understands you, offers her assistance). That day I noticed I had WAY more meaningful conversations with people. Conversations I never would have had if I would've been glued to my phone. Not only was it nice to have good conversation, it felt good to have no restraints. Not feeling the need to immediately answer a text or phone call right away. The times we are in now, everybody is literally just a text away, offering instant gratification. It felt good to go "rogue," off the map for a day. I had been liberated! Liberated of all the constraints a cell phone had placed on me. And it truly felt good. I paid attention to people more. I made conversation more. I felt uninterrupted more. All positive things. I'm not a big believer in New Year's resolutions. I feel they are a huge waste of time, and 99% of the time they don't stick. But I am a firm believer in working every day to make yourself a better person. I think spending less time on my phone will be my every day resolution. Since then I have looked at my phone way less. I don't feel the need to have it on me 100% of the time, that anxiety is gone. I don't feel the need to check my social media accounts all day long. Don't get me wrong, there are a ton of things that are wonderful about cell phones, but only in small doses. Cell phones shouldn't replace people. I've always thought the "old timers" were crazy for revoking the evolution of technology (my father-in-law literally just got a cell phone- for emergencies only of course), but I get it now. I really do.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
A whirlwind
The last couple of weeks have been COMPLETE chaos. Every last moment was spent doing something. For starters, we officially got an offer on our house and we accepted. We were extremely happy with the offer, answered prayers for sure! So now we wait until closing. That being said- our house still had A LOT of stuff in it. Primarily the attic and the kitchen/bathroom cabinets. Chris and I were a two man show with two monkeys trailing behind us at all times. Two monkeys who were entertained in fifteen minute increments. Good times. I think as part of the perks of having a realtor they should offer babysitting services during the packing process. I kidd (sort of). Every minute we had a little free time, we were busy packing the last seven years away. Boy- did that attic have some memories! There were sombreros, pack and plays, blow up swim pools, old rugs covered in dog piss, toys galore, and the list goes on and on. Seventy five percent of it got trashed, much to Chris's dismay. He is quite the little closet border. Apparently anything I told him to throw away in the last seven years went straight the the attic. "We'll use it someday." Right. Though, he did say the man at the dump stashed back quite a few items. Anybody that goes to the dump knows THAT one dump operator that thinks they're going to strike it rich or "fix up" every piece of crap that comes through. Oh let me not forget to mention that- Saturday thru Wenesday my kids were pouring snot. And on Wednesday the stomach bug hit the Morrison compound (by the grace of God this is the first time we've ever had to deal with this with a kid). With sweet little Evie. Let me go ahead and tell you, green gatorade looks the same coming up as it does going down. He hurled every bit of his guts up in the "sold" house. It was his parting gift. I really felt like I would cry during the whole packing process. My soul is attached to that house- there's just something so special about it. We LOVED and still love that house. We started our family there. There are so many memories attached in those walls. Any part of that house I can look at and tell you a memory that's connected to it. But once again, it's not the house, it's the memories attached to it. Luckily, there was no time to think, just time to pack and move. I do think I'm going to leave a little note to the new family and wish them all the happiness that we experienced. Enough of that, I'm tearing up. We will miss you house.
Ethan had his end of the year bash and also end of the year program, Both equally special. I'll write more on those at a later date. I feel like this entry would be a mile long if I talked about every detail of those. I will say, which I've already said before, Ethan's school is such a special place. The love in that place is so strong. When Ethan first started going last year, I was a nervous wreck. Not that I didn't have faith that others were capable of taking care of him, but that I would miss that special time. Those six hours a week would be given to somebody else. To some that may sound absolutely ridiculous, but to me I have always valued the time with my kids. For one day (very soon) those six hours a week will turn into eight hours a day, five days a week. Do the math on that. Yep, I'll be on the hot mess express that first day of Kindergarten. Those feelings of nervousness have long been gone, because I feel like St. Paul's is part of our family now. They love Ethan just as much (or pretty close) as I do and want to see him succeed as well.
In the midst of the great move and end of the year shenanigans, Mother's Day makes an appearance. Pretty much that day the only thing I didn't want to do was pack, move, or clean up vomit. Score on all three. I had a great Mother's Day! My brother and his sweet little family came in town. Which the boys absolutely love their cousin, Baby Jax (even though he's technically not a baby anymore). He'll be twenty-five years old and they'll still be calling him Baby Jax. The first two days they came in town we were quarantined, which was torture for the boys. All I heard was "can we go see Baby Jax, can we go see Baby Jax?" Finally the curse of the stomach bug had been lifted and they got to see their Baby Jax. They watched Mickey, they rode power wheels, they swam, they had an absolute blast. In typical Louisiana fashion we had a crawfish boil Saturday night. And boy were they good! There's nothing quite like a Louisiana Saturday night crawfish boil. Sunday we had steaks at Mom's for lunch and burgers at Chris's sisters house that evening. The food for the weekend was on point, definitely didn't help my waistline considering summer is literally right around the corner.
I am hoping with the approach of summer that life will slow down a bit. I love those late summer nights where the kids stay out until dark. No plans. No scurrying about from here to there. Just stagnancy. A tranquility that can only be brought by the peacefulness of no movement. Welcome sweet summer time!
Ethan had his end of the year bash and also end of the year program, Both equally special. I'll write more on those at a later date. I feel like this entry would be a mile long if I talked about every detail of those. I will say, which I've already said before, Ethan's school is such a special place. The love in that place is so strong. When Ethan first started going last year, I was a nervous wreck. Not that I didn't have faith that others were capable of taking care of him, but that I would miss that special time. Those six hours a week would be given to somebody else. To some that may sound absolutely ridiculous, but to me I have always valued the time with my kids. For one day (very soon) those six hours a week will turn into eight hours a day, five days a week. Do the math on that. Yep, I'll be on the hot mess express that first day of Kindergarten. Those feelings of nervousness have long been gone, because I feel like St. Paul's is part of our family now. They love Ethan just as much (or pretty close) as I do and want to see him succeed as well.
In the midst of the great move and end of the year shenanigans, Mother's Day makes an appearance. Pretty much that day the only thing I didn't want to do was pack, move, or clean up vomit. Score on all three. I had a great Mother's Day! My brother and his sweet little family came in town. Which the boys absolutely love their cousin, Baby Jax (even though he's technically not a baby anymore). He'll be twenty-five years old and they'll still be calling him Baby Jax. The first two days they came in town we were quarantined, which was torture for the boys. All I heard was "can we go see Baby Jax, can we go see Baby Jax?" Finally the curse of the stomach bug had been lifted and they got to see their Baby Jax. They watched Mickey, they rode power wheels, they swam, they had an absolute blast. In typical Louisiana fashion we had a crawfish boil Saturday night. And boy were they good! There's nothing quite like a Louisiana Saturday night crawfish boil. Sunday we had steaks at Mom's for lunch and burgers at Chris's sisters house that evening. The food for the weekend was on point, definitely didn't help my waistline considering summer is literally right around the corner.
On a very sad note, our sweet puppy passed away Tuesday. He was pushing fifteen years old. The last year had been rough on him. Unfortunately, age had taken it's tole. As humans we are pretty much always guaranteed to outlive our fur babies. Which sucks. Because to so many, like us, they ARE our family. I had gotten Peppi about a year before Chris and I met. Peppi took to Chris immediately. From then on out, Peppi was Chris's. Peppi experience every phase of life Chris and I experienced together. He watched us fall in love, he watched us learn how to be husband and wife, he watched us fight and then make up, he watched the late night parties we had on the back porch, he watched us experience the greatest joy in our lives- having our babies, he was there every step of the way. He had a ridiculous love for milk bones and "going for rides." He was feisty as all get out, Chris still has a scar to prove it. He was the ultimate cuddler. He never truly wanted to get out of bed. Gosh how I miss him! But I know all dogs go to heaven and one day, he will be there to greet me.
I am hoping with the approach of summer that life will slow down a bit. I love those late summer nights where the kids stay out until dark. No plans. No scurrying about from here to there. Just stagnancy. A tranquility that can only be brought by the peacefulness of no movement. Welcome sweet summer time!
Sunday, April 24, 2016
Baseball season is among us
As a little girl I literally lived at the ballpark. I played tee ball and a couple of years of softball, but in the end it just wasn't my cup of tea. This is how serious softball was taken for me, one year we got to put our nicknames on the back of our jerseys- my nickname was….wait for it….Burpy. Because I had an UNBELIEVABLE burping ability. I still do, I just keep it pent up, stuff like that is frowned upon as an adult. My little brother played ball from tee ball on- never missing a season. So as part of that package I was drug along to the ball park to find my own mischief to get into. I walked miles around that ballpark, because let's face it, sitting still watching your little brother play ball is no ideal of fun. There was the infamous dirt pile. Every ballpark has A dirt pile, and every kid not playing ball flocks to it. If you didn't come home from the ballpark covered in dirt from the field, you were coming home covered in dirt from the dirt pile. That one dirt pile provided endless hours of fun for the kids on the sidelines. Another fond memory was the snow cone stand. For about three seasons the ballpark had a snow cone stand, and it was the best thing ever. It blossomed my love for snow cones today, especially the Eagle Brand cream they put on top. YUM! I'm pretty sure my parents went broke those summers buying me snow cones. When I was about twelve all of my little girl friends were starting their "cycles," and for some insane reason I just couldn't wait to start mine. Every day I would think, today will be the day that I would become a woman. One hot ballpark day I decided strawberry would be the snow cone flavor of the day. It was delicious! A couple of hours later I felt a rumbling in my gut. I hurry to the bathroom and do the do and when I wiped it was red. Holy cow- I had FINALLY started my period!!! I took off running as fast as I could to tell my mom the great news, only for her to rain on my parade. I told her how when I wiped it was red. She asked me if any was in my panties, I said no. Then she asked for more details- #1 or #2. #2. She prodded further- did you eat a snow cone? Yes. What color was it? Red. Then the pieces fell together, and I was no longer a "woman." Complete and total pre teen devastation. Little did I know then, how unglamorous becoming a woman really was.
Twenty years later, I'm starting over again. The life of a ballpark rat. Except this time, I'm the mama. Chris and my Dad the coaches. I remember from the time my brother was a tee baller until he made it to high school he had one coach, and that was my dad. I'd say he's officially come out of retirement. Ethan will always have memories of his Daddy and Poppy coaching him. There is nothing more special than having your own Dad coach you. It's a huge task, but one very much worth it. Every day Ethan asks, "Do we have baseball today?" He's so excited to play, which makes my Dad's day. Hopefully Ethan will still have that fire by the end of the season- something tells me he will. The joy of tee ball is it's about the only level of baseball, where there's no competitive spirit. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with having a competitive spirt, but there's such a sweet innocence about tee ball. It's really only about having a good time, and hopefully learning a little along the way. In two years I will have two baseballers and I cannot even imagine how hectic our schedule will be then! My life will be spent at the ballpark, which I could imagine it no other way. This is just the beginning.
Twenty years later, I'm starting over again. The life of a ballpark rat. Except this time, I'm the mama. Chris and my Dad the coaches. I remember from the time my brother was a tee baller until he made it to high school he had one coach, and that was my dad. I'd say he's officially come out of retirement. Ethan will always have memories of his Daddy and Poppy coaching him. There is nothing more special than having your own Dad coach you. It's a huge task, but one very much worth it. Every day Ethan asks, "Do we have baseball today?" He's so excited to play, which makes my Dad's day. Hopefully Ethan will still have that fire by the end of the season- something tells me he will. The joy of tee ball is it's about the only level of baseball, where there's no competitive spirit. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with having a competitive spirt, but there's such a sweet innocence about tee ball. It's really only about having a good time, and hopefully learning a little along the way. In two years I will have two baseballers and I cannot even imagine how hectic our schedule will be then! My life will be spent at the ballpark, which I could imagine it no other way. This is just the beginning.
Be still my heart.
Opening ceremony at the ballpark
The day after Evan's injury, it looked absolutely horrible. He looked like he got in a fight with a tiger.
VERY first game
CUBS!
Sunday, April 17, 2016
DUCK….or not.
With two boys, my life stays a chaotic whirlwind 99% of the time. I truly think God has been grooming me for this life from day one. I never imagined myself as strictly a "boy mom," but now I could see myself as nothing but. I can honestly say, I never think I will get bored with this life- my boys won't allow it!
With that being said, at least once a week one of my children gets injured- and it's usually my sweet Evie. My baby. The one who has zero fear. The one who was so properly nicknamed Chuck Norris. He will do something dare devilish WAY before Ethan would ever think about it. He has busted his forehead open on a coffee table and his wonderful mother derma bonded it together wrong- pretty sure it's going to leave a gnarly scar. Good things chicks dig scars. He has had a fifty pound mirror fall on him and lived to tell about it. He has split his chin wide open on the bar (pretty sure he needed stitches on that one too), and kept on trucking. HE will probably be the reason I will be on blood pressure medication in a few years. If he doesn't sustain a broken bone by the age of five, it will be an absolute miracle. Our latest episode was at his brother's doing….the joys of being the younger brother.
A couple of weeks ago Ethan got this crazy ideal to ride his power wheel under the trampoline. It was all funny at the time, watching this four year old duck and continue to drive to the other side. He did it twice, and each time he would ask for permission. And after that day, that was that, he seemed "over" his newfound talent. Fast forward to last Friday, Chris was mowing grass (the side job) and it was pretty outside so of course the boys wanted to be outside. And of course they wanted to ride the power wheels. The rule is no riding in the front yard, only the back. Evan has had a couple of incidents of not paying enough attention and meandering too close to the street for his mama's comfort. Which that day I wasn't too worried about that because they had teamed up and decided to ride one power wheel with Ethan as the driver. All was well, so I decided I had a small window to paint my toenails. I got my polish and posted it up in a chair by the trampoline. As I was about to swipe the first coat of paint, I heard a blood curdling scream and heard the power wheel going full throttle. I look up trying to find where the boys were- scanning the backyard. All of a sudden I heard the power wheel stop and I see Evan come running from underneath the trampoline with blood pouring down his face- primarily over his left eye. I freaked. By this point Ethan had crawled out from underneath the trampoline as well and saw his brother's bloody face and began squalling. But my focus at the time was on Evan. Before I had even washed Evan's face I was already on the phone with the pediatrician's office and had a 3:00 appointment. Once I got inside, I cleaned Evan's face up and could tell there was a cut on his eyelid and a trampoline burn on his nose and under his eye. I wasn't too concerned with the burns, but the cut on his eyelid made me nervous. It was too close to a very valuable body part. He was not interested in letting me have a good look at it, so we were keeping that 3:00 appointment. In the meantime, my mom had gotten home and had just happened to call in the middle of me trying to clean Evan's face. She walked the 500 feet to our house to check out the damage. After laying eyes on Evan, she asked where Ethan was. The last I saw him he was following me inside to clean Evan's face, but apparently had stopped at some point along the way. Ethan is my tender hearted, caring one. He is a people pleaser and wants to make everybody happy and usually that's with humor. While I was still trying to clean Evan's face, mom went to check on Ethan. Ethan was found at the scene of the crime, pacing back and forth just balling saying "I hurt my brother, I hurt my brother. " He was absolutely devastated. Broke my heart. I was so worried about checking the damage to Evan's face that I had completely forgotten about poor Ethan. I loaded Evan up (by this point it was 2:30 already), and went and calmed Ethan down. Ethan's immediate response was "we not going to ride under the trampoline no more." He was scarred. He was the daredevil for once and he knew to duck and poor brother hadn't learned the rules of trampoline riding yet. After a big hug and some I love you's, Ethan's spirits were lifted and he got a free pass to hang out with Nonnie alone. We made it to our appointment on time, and everything checked out okay. That $40 copay was well worth the piece of mind. I'm usually the healthcare worker mama that's all "it'll be okay, it's just a little blood, we'll just put a bandaid on it." But with his injury so close to his eye, I figured it was worth taking the trip "to town." He was a trooper and didn't shed a tear for the doctor. He was such a big boy that he got a treat afterwards. Not only did he get a treat for himself, he also got one for brother. One thing I can say about my boys is they ALWAYS think of each other. Two boxes of ninja turtle bandaids, two boxes of skittles, and some antibiotic cream and we were good. Homeward bound. This is the first brother-induced injury, but I am sure not the last. Lord help me.
With that being said, at least once a week one of my children gets injured- and it's usually my sweet Evie. My baby. The one who has zero fear. The one who was so properly nicknamed Chuck Norris. He will do something dare devilish WAY before Ethan would ever think about it. He has busted his forehead open on a coffee table and his wonderful mother derma bonded it together wrong- pretty sure it's going to leave a gnarly scar. Good things chicks dig scars. He has had a fifty pound mirror fall on him and lived to tell about it. He has split his chin wide open on the bar (pretty sure he needed stitches on that one too), and kept on trucking. HE will probably be the reason I will be on blood pressure medication in a few years. If he doesn't sustain a broken bone by the age of five, it will be an absolute miracle. Our latest episode was at his brother's doing….the joys of being the younger brother.
A couple of weeks ago Ethan got this crazy ideal to ride his power wheel under the trampoline. It was all funny at the time, watching this four year old duck and continue to drive to the other side. He did it twice, and each time he would ask for permission. And after that day, that was that, he seemed "over" his newfound talent. Fast forward to last Friday, Chris was mowing grass (the side job) and it was pretty outside so of course the boys wanted to be outside. And of course they wanted to ride the power wheels. The rule is no riding in the front yard, only the back. Evan has had a couple of incidents of not paying enough attention and meandering too close to the street for his mama's comfort. Which that day I wasn't too worried about that because they had teamed up and decided to ride one power wheel with Ethan as the driver. All was well, so I decided I had a small window to paint my toenails. I got my polish and posted it up in a chair by the trampoline. As I was about to swipe the first coat of paint, I heard a blood curdling scream and heard the power wheel going full throttle. I look up trying to find where the boys were- scanning the backyard. All of a sudden I heard the power wheel stop and I see Evan come running from underneath the trampoline with blood pouring down his face- primarily over his left eye. I freaked. By this point Ethan had crawled out from underneath the trampoline as well and saw his brother's bloody face and began squalling. But my focus at the time was on Evan. Before I had even washed Evan's face I was already on the phone with the pediatrician's office and had a 3:00 appointment. Once I got inside, I cleaned Evan's face up and could tell there was a cut on his eyelid and a trampoline burn on his nose and under his eye. I wasn't too concerned with the burns, but the cut on his eyelid made me nervous. It was too close to a very valuable body part. He was not interested in letting me have a good look at it, so we were keeping that 3:00 appointment. In the meantime, my mom had gotten home and had just happened to call in the middle of me trying to clean Evan's face. She walked the 500 feet to our house to check out the damage. After laying eyes on Evan, she asked where Ethan was. The last I saw him he was following me inside to clean Evan's face, but apparently had stopped at some point along the way. Ethan is my tender hearted, caring one. He is a people pleaser and wants to make everybody happy and usually that's with humor. While I was still trying to clean Evan's face, mom went to check on Ethan. Ethan was found at the scene of the crime, pacing back and forth just balling saying "I hurt my brother, I hurt my brother. " He was absolutely devastated. Broke my heart. I was so worried about checking the damage to Evan's face that I had completely forgotten about poor Ethan. I loaded Evan up (by this point it was 2:30 already), and went and calmed Ethan down. Ethan's immediate response was "we not going to ride under the trampoline no more." He was scarred. He was the daredevil for once and he knew to duck and poor brother hadn't learned the rules of trampoline riding yet. After a big hug and some I love you's, Ethan's spirits were lifted and he got a free pass to hang out with Nonnie alone. We made it to our appointment on time, and everything checked out okay. That $40 copay was well worth the piece of mind. I'm usually the healthcare worker mama that's all "it'll be okay, it's just a little blood, we'll just put a bandaid on it." But with his injury so close to his eye, I figured it was worth taking the trip "to town." He was a trooper and didn't shed a tear for the doctor. He was such a big boy that he got a treat afterwards. Not only did he get a treat for himself, he also got one for brother. One thing I can say about my boys is they ALWAYS think of each other. Two boxes of ninja turtle bandaids, two boxes of skittles, and some antibiotic cream and we were good. Homeward bound. This is the first brother-induced injury, but I am sure not the last. Lord help me.
Obviously, Evan was fine when we got to the Doctor's office.
The day after, is always the worst. The post sleep swelling made Evan look p-i-t-f-u-l. Not to mention, this morning was opening season ceremony for ALL of B-town baseball. So Evan got totted to the ballpark looking like this. If I got asked once, I got asked fifty times what happened. I was sure CPS would end up getting called by the end of the day. Luckily, Evan's face has healed 95% of the way and he looks great now (a little over a week later). Thank goodness! Maybe we can be bobo free for more than a week this go round. Goodness.
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
Lions, and Tigers, and Ninja Turtles
I was having a little mom guilt after spring break, because I didn't get to take the kiddos to do anything fun (even though at this point they have no clue what spring break even is). Not to mention they have two parents who have jobs that require them to work weekends and holidays- and to help out some coworkers I picked up an extra day of work that week. Soooooo a trip over spring break was not on our agenda. Not to mention, I hate crowds. I'm a very social person- I rarely like to be alone, but I hate the feeling of confinement. Instead, I decided we'd take a day trip to the Caldwell Zoo the next week. And boy did the kids have fun! The Caldwell Zoo is by far one of my favorite places, I remember as a kid going there. It's highly affordable and just big enough that by the end you're ready to be done. We went with a couple that we have been friends with for a very long time, they have a little boy that is sandwiched in between my boys age. He's pretty much like a third child. If Dylan isn't with us, we will hear about how Dylan should be with us. They are the three amigos.Tyler is about an hour and a half away, so of course we had to hit up a gas station before we got there. Here are the three amigos playing in the rocking chairs in front of the gas station. A gas station in Texas isn't complete without some rocking chairs in front of it!
We get to the zoo and all the kids are super excited. Evan is literally mesmerized by the "famingos." Proper English pronunciation- flamingos. While the other two act like they are ready to full sprint their way through the exhibits. While I was sharing in Evan's excitement of the flamingos my friend Kelli informs me that I should look at my child. Never good. Low and behold, Ethan has decided to whip it out and pee into the zoo exhibit. I hate to say it, but you can't take the B-town out of this sweet child. Just a country boy, doing country things. We had a talk about public urination and when and where to do it. Hopefully it will stick, but something in my gut tells me this won't be my last time to see this. Being the over-picture taking mama that I am, of course I had to hurry up and take a picture of his sin. Strictly for proof later in life of how I got all my gray hairs and prescription for blood pressure medication.
A possible pet bird in our future….nawwwww. I've learned as a parent to never say never, but I'm going out on a limb and saying never on this one.
Out of all the kids, Evan by far had the best time. Don't get me wrong, they ALL had a good time, but Evan was so entranced in all the animals. He was always the last one to leave every exhibit, and that was pretty much always with force. He'd scream the animals names as soon as he saw them, with such excitement. These are the moments that will forever be burned in my memory. Yes, the peeing is pretty unforgettable, but just seeing the excitement written all over their faces made the whole trip worth while. Evan is a huge Ninja Turtle fan…huge! And when he saw the turtles, they weren't just turtles, they were "NINJA TURTLES!"
The boys were mesmerized by the snakes…..of course. Not on our future pet list.
At the mountain lion exhibit we had an interesting encounter. When we first got to the exhibit there were two huge cats lying by the glass, one semi lying on top of the other. The one that was being laid upon (obviously the female)- was hissing non stop for at least five good minutes. We had a front row seat show. This female obviously wanted the male to move. He just couldn't quite comprehend- good to know it's not just humans having this issue- I kidd, I kidd (sort of). During the show, the boys were glued to the glass waiting for the next move. Male kitty finally took the hint and not only moved, but climbed as high as he could up a tree. Which was pretty cool (even to this old mama). And what do you know, the hissing stopped. That easy men…that easy. Know when to walk away.
After all that excitement, it was snack time. And being in Texas and all….guess what we found…..rocking chairs of course! Yohoos and Pringles for everybody!
My life- my loves
Definitely unconventional…thinking outside the box.
Ethan and Dylan were calling the Ninja Turtles through the sewer drain.
We definitely brought the Ninja Turtle lovin' crew!
There was a small area of the zoo where you could pet the goats. The boys were a tad bit timid, unsure of how the goats would react to them, but they got a couple of good pats in. I think the funniest part of this story is apparently part of the qualification to be the petting zoo zookeeper was you had to hate kids. Dylan latched himself onto this certain man and thought he had made quite a friend. Besides the fact the man blatantly ignored him the whole time. Dylan kept saying, "sir, sir, sir, sir," and the old scrooge refused to make eye contact with him. It was pretty entertaining watching Dylan try to bring out the best in this grumpy old man. I must say, Dylan won the persistent kid award. A great quality! Scrooge kept looking at Kelli to make Dylan stop, little did he realize if he would just at least acknowledge Dylan he might actually enjoy his conversation with the three year old. His loss. Unfortunately, the man refused to budge, but Kelli and I had quite a good laugh about his scroogeness.
My FAVORITE part of the the trip was saved for last! Last time we went to the zoo we visited the bird sanctuary where you actually got cute little popsicle sticks with bird seed on them and got to feed the sweet little birdies. Now last time there were at least twenty other people in there with us, so the birds weren't solely focused on us. They had variety. Not this time. I ranted and raved the whole trip about how they were just going to loooooooove this bird sanctuary. We get there and we are the only ones- therefore, all 350 birds wanted our sticks. They would literally climb on your hands and arms and start fighting with each other over a measaly popsicle stick. Creeped me the heck out. I can handle one bird on my stick, that is fun. Not ten fighting birds climbing all over you. So, I quickly passed my stick off to Kelli- aka Bird Whisperer. This was by far Ethan's favorite part, he had a blast and wasn't the least bit scared. Ethan and Kelli were one with the birds.
Kelli and her newfound friends
A possible pet bird in our future….nawwwww. I've learned as a parent to never say never, but I'm going out on a limb and saying never on this one.
We ended our trip to Tyler with a lunch date to Chuy's, which I highly recommend. It was a perfect day trip. The kids had a blast. The adults had a blast. What more could you ask for?
Thursday, April 7, 2016
Doo Doo Balls
My sweet little Evan is officially/unofficially potty trained. It's very bittersweet. No more diapers EVER again at the Mo house. Mixed emotions there. Evan is an all star at his pee game, the poop game not so much. Evan isn't a fan of the potty, but he also doesn't like wearing it anymore. Therefore, when he does it in his drawers he rips them off with very little remorse. Not to mention, he is a stealth pooper- he can do it in mid play and you will never know it until he flings those drawers off.
Yesterday Evan and Ethan were jumping peacefully on the trampoline when I hear Ethan start screaming, "Mama, mama Evan's taking his underwear off, mama he's taking his underwear off!!!!!" Ethan is alllll about ratting his brother out- hopefully it stays that way well into their teens. I glance up thinking Ethan is just playing (he has that sense of humor), and then Ethan increases his pitch just a notch and starts frantically screaming, "Mama there are doo doo balls, doo doo balls are on the trampoline!!!" At this point do you think my children quit jumping- NOPE. They keep on jumping, along with the four Evan turds bouncing around with them. I panic and sternly tell them, "Everybody stop where you are! Don't move, don't jump." Because now it is my duty to fish the turds off the trampoline. Do the kids stop? Of course not. Instead they decide to try to pulverize the turds with the gigantic life size ball on the trampoline. So now I am attempting to scrape up flattened turds compliments of their bowling session. This is just a day in my life, a small little sliver of my life with boys. And for some reason, I think it is the best life EVER and I love those two boys with every ounce of my being. So much so I'd scrape their flattened pancake crap off the trampoline so they could continue to jump in a doo doo ball free zone.
Hopefully Evan will eventually conquer his fear of the toilet and I won't live in fear of where Evan will drop his loaf next. Until then, I will be watching him like a hawk in public. My sanity can not handle him ripping his poo filled underwear off in front of the rest of society. I have until August (when Evan starts school) to control this potty phobia and I have full faith he will turn into quite the little potty pooing human and not that wild doo doo ball flinging monkey of the past.
Yesterday Evan and Ethan were jumping peacefully on the trampoline when I hear Ethan start screaming, "Mama, mama Evan's taking his underwear off, mama he's taking his underwear off!!!!!" Ethan is alllll about ratting his brother out- hopefully it stays that way well into their teens. I glance up thinking Ethan is just playing (he has that sense of humor), and then Ethan increases his pitch just a notch and starts frantically screaming, "Mama there are doo doo balls, doo doo balls are on the trampoline!!!" At this point do you think my children quit jumping- NOPE. They keep on jumping, along with the four Evan turds bouncing around with them. I panic and sternly tell them, "Everybody stop where you are! Don't move, don't jump." Because now it is my duty to fish the turds off the trampoline. Do the kids stop? Of course not. Instead they decide to try to pulverize the turds with the gigantic life size ball on the trampoline. So now I am attempting to scrape up flattened turds compliments of their bowling session. This is just a day in my life, a small little sliver of my life with boys. And for some reason, I think it is the best life EVER and I love those two boys with every ounce of my being. So much so I'd scrape their flattened pancake crap off the trampoline so they could continue to jump in a doo doo ball free zone.
Hopefully Evan will eventually conquer his fear of the toilet and I won't live in fear of where Evan will drop his loaf next. Until then, I will be watching him like a hawk in public. My sanity can not handle him ripping his poo filled underwear off in front of the rest of society. I have until August (when Evan starts school) to control this potty phobia and I have full faith he will turn into quite the little potty pooing human and not that wild doo doo ball flinging monkey of the past.
Friday, April 1, 2016
And just like that…Spring Break is over
Even though it is Spring Break (a time for rest and relaxation- ha!!!) I feel like we have shifted into overdrive. We have gone non-stop for over a week. Between Easter parties, birthday parties, and egg hunts, oh yeah and the ever so fun and entertaining t-ball, our cup has runneth over. Over the weekend I learned the boys LOVE to hunt eggs- pretty sure I heard "hide them again, hide them again," about fifty times. We held at least four egg hunts. And I must say, I am over those stupid plastic eggs. They have secretly made their way back to the top of Ethan's closet, not to be seen again until next year.
Easter (outside of those plastic eggs) is by far one of my favorite holidays, right behind Christmas. There are just so many fun things for the kids to do- from dying eggs to seeing the ever so creepy Easter Bunny. This year both boys were definitely into it. Here is a little recap of our busy Easter holiday…..
Ethan goes to seriously one of the best preschools ever. The school is literally two hallways, but there is so much love packed in between those two hallways. They make learning fun and exciting for the kids. The school is actually part of a church, so the kids go to chapel each morning and learn about Jesus and his greatness- which I love! One of the bigger celebrations at the school is the flowering of the Cross and Easter hat parade, which was held Wednesday. Each kid brings a flower and gets to place it on the cross during chapel. After that there is a parade in the courtyard and the kids get to walk around in their Easter hats they (huh hmmm or maybe their parents) made. The most chaotic part is saved for last- the EGG HUNT.
Friday we stepped it up a notch. I decided my children HAD to see the Easter bunny, or their Easter just wouldn't be fulfilled. They wouldn't receive the full Easter package- hunt, dye, and picture. So after I got off work on Friday (at 3:00) we decided it would be a good ideal to high tail it up to the Bass Pro Shop where the Easter Bunny would be making a special appearance from 2:00-8:00. Me being the cheapo that I am, was going to get the free BPS picture, not the $30 mall package which includes a measly four wallets. And if that included standing in line for a good hour and a half- by God we were going to stand in line for an hour and a half. Luckily we ended up seeing some of our friends with kids the same age, so our kids were well entertained. After getting in trouble by the grouchy door greeter lady, the kids and husbands took off to the fish tank and boats. We had been in line about 45 minutes and I see Chris carrying Evan with a very grim look on his face. I already knew what he was about to tell me….. for some reason I thought it a good ideal to potty train Evan. And when I do something, I usually do it big. I went cold turkey potty training style. No more diapers…period…And there we were- 45 minutes deep in the Easter Bunny line with pee stains on the front and a load of crap in the back. Apparently Evan got a little too comfortable in the bass boat. Good times. I remember having a pair of pants in my purse, but I also remember taking those pants out of my purse. So Evan and I go tromping across that BP parking lot to the Margaritaville parking lot. That should've been my first que to turn that Pilot around. There were zero parking spots at BPS. But as usual, I didn't listen to my inner self. We get to the car, only to find I have no pants. I had taken them out inside my house that morning and put them on the counter, not in my car. I call Chris, "ABORT THE MISSION!" Luckily, he still had his sense and was going to buy an overpriced pair at the BPS and meet me out front. I put a diaper on Evan (placed a temporary hold on the whole potty training gig) and put his pants back on and started the ten mile march back to the Easter bunny. Once I finally got to Chris Evan's pants had dried so I said screw it, if we're going to wait this long my kids are going to match- the Easter bunny is just going to have to endure the dried up piss pants (don't worry, no doody was on them, I'm not that ruthless).
Worth the long wait and the "accident," which Evan still looks pissed (no pun intended) about.
And no- my child didn't cause that stain on Mr. Bunny's arm.
We got our free picture and headed back to B-town to Paw and DeDe's where the kids had an egg hunt extravaganza. To add to the excitement of the egg hunt, DeDe added in a few confetti eggs, which the kids had a blast with! Highly recommend the confetti eggs.
The Mo Easter Bunny came on Saturday since Daddy wouldn't be there Sunday. Oh the joys of being a civil servant. The Easter Bunny hooked two little boys up. Their baskets primarily consisted of art stuff, stuff that wouldn't make them bounce the walls- that tends to come natural for these two, we need no assistance. The bunny also snuck in some ninja turtle tooth brushes (which were their favorite part) and some ninja turtle band aids. Sometimes it's just the simple things.
Little Evie with his pretty much permanent dirty face
We also dyed eggs the same day the bunny came, which Evan proceeded to stomp into the concrete. Hey- whatever! Some things aren't worth it. If he wants to be Evan Reid the Egg Crusher, who am I to rain on his egg stomping party? After it was all said and done we all had dyed hands and the dog ate about five boiled, crushed eggs, which I would pay for later.
On the for real Easter day, I got the boys dressed all cute and wanted to take a family photo- which never happened. My attempt at pictures Easter day are as follows…..
It is what it is……
Hope everyone had a blessed Easter!
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