B is for Boys

And today's letter is brought to you by the letter B. Boys and their busy, busy ways. Here is a random list of B words that come to mind when I think of life with my boys.

Bugs. Beligerent. Bellows. Bellybutton. Bevel. Binoculars. Birds. Bittersweet. Black eye. Blind. Blocks. Blow torch. Bolts. Bondservant. Boots. Both. Bossy. Bow. Boisterous. Builder. Burn.
Broken. Bones. Books. Blood. Bite. Band aids.

Brothers.

A is For Astronaut, but Not Anonymity.

I sat down a few days ago to just rattle off a post, as it had been some time since last I wrote something here. But then I realized this was going to be my 100th post. And I felt somehow that I should put a bit more effort into it.

You know, some actual thinking ahead, getting my thoughts in order, and presenting a well organized essay. Maybe even without typos for once! My husband would probably reel from the shock.


End result is going to be the same last minute, off the cuff, random bits of babble that I usually fling out here. Don't say I didn't warn you.


However, while thinking over how I wanted to approach my 100th post I thought I would do something a little different at least. And thus was born this 26 part series of "My Stay at Home Mom, Homeschooling Life With Boys, From A to Z"

Today, as you may have already guessed, is brought to you by the Letter A. As a quick side note did you know that Sesame Street just celebrated it's 40th Anniversary? I LOVE that show! And I love it all the more for being just as old as I am.



The letter A.
For Astronaut. Jonas' latest obsession. Here he is in his Halloween Costume on October 31st. Four days later he was still wearing it. Even as we ventured into Montpelier the following Monday for his 4 year check up. Which makes it hard to be anonymous. Nay, impossible. Even when entering the Co-op. Where normally anything goes. I think the Fireman boots with "flames" shooting up the sides that he insisted on wearing with the Astronaut suit
drew almost as much attention.

From the moment that a pregnant mother starts to show off a rather obvious "baby bump", she loses any chance of blending into the crowd. In short, Anonymity is right out the window. Right along with dignity, privacy, and sleep. But those don't start with the letter A.

There will be days when I would prefer to just disappear into my surroundings. Indeed there have been several days of late where I found myself fervently praying for some giant hole to suddenly appear and swallow me whole. There will also be many other days full of

Awe-at the sight of my newborn child, safe and sound in the cradle of my arms for the very first time.
Amazement-that my 9 year old can change a tire entirely by himself.
Absent-mindedness-as I carry through my daily activities on less and less sleep and I continue to get older.
Abstraction-the type of questions I am bombarded with as we hurtle our way down the interstate while I'm in the throes of absent-mindedness.
Acceptance-of one's family and the love that resides within those boundaries. Warts and all.
Anarchy-despite my best and unflagging attempts to teach my children some manners.
Action-constantly.
Amplifier-this one especially applies to Toby.
Apprehensive-because in my life with boys, you just never know. What that next sniffle will lead to, or when and where the next broken bone will happen. Hurt feelings that need to be mended, and tears that need to be wiped away with a gentle hand.
Arrogance-I might be confusing this with testosterone overload. Hard to tell sometimes.
Assumption-that there will always be food to be had, clean underwear at the ready, and loving hugs when in need. Some days I resent this assumption, being taken for granted as it were. But then on some deeper level I realize that maybe it means I'm doing my job right.
Ate-and he ate and ate and ate. And he was STILL hungry. Again, this is life with growing boys. I am afraid for the teen-age years yet to come.
Audio- there is hardly ever a quiet moment in our house. On the rare occasion this happens, the silence is deafening.
Awake- which is what my children always seem to be. Also the state I am in more often than I would like.

An Element of One's Own

Toby helping to ring the bell 350 times at his Grammy's church on 10/24/09

It started out as your typical Thursday. Or rather, I should say, our typical Thursday. Which typically starts early, starts out fast and doesn't stop until bedtime. Except that this Thursday we also had a sick 4 year old and I had a dental checkup which I had already re-scheduled twice before.

Doug and I take turns doing the Thursday drive to Williston for Toby's Stern Center day. It was my turn to drive which really should have worked out. Toby came with me to the Dentist so then that way if we were running late we could just head straight from there and right to the Stern Center.

I've mostly gotten over my dental phobia due to the constant and gentle persuasion and endless patience of both my dentist and my hygienist. I love my hygienist I really do.. She's sweet, friendly, very professional. Plus it's like getting a pep talk on my life after a visit with her. She's got two boys of her own you see, except that hers are grown, married and with children of their own now. Point being that she lived through it, and can even look back and laugh about it. In a normal, and totally sane person kind of way I mean.

I mentioned to her that Toby having to wait for me in the lobby was going to be a wonderful exercise in patience for him, and this just led right into a lengthy conversation about life with two boys, and then my Dentist came in and added to the conversation. We were all literally laughing so hard we had tears rolling down our cheeks by the time I walked back to the lobby waiting area. I'm sure Toby was suspicious that there may have been laughing gas involved with my cleaning.

Tina the receptionist assured me that Toby had done a wonderful job waiting for me, and had been very patient. Between you and me I'm sure she was just being polite. Though she was still smiling, so who knows.

So, we head back to the car. We're doing great, we have time, my teeth are clean and I have my new toothbrush. Pink so as to leave no doubt as to which one is mine.

And we have a flat tire. F-L-A-T. No denying that one. A roofing nail is clearly the culprit here. Now where did I pick that bugger up???

I'm starting to panic, internally, still trying to maintain the outward appearance of calm parental unit in control.

This is the point where Toby steps in and takes control. In a very calm, rational, and professional manner. I would have been stunned had I not been so relieved.

Toby, in his element, is very focused, intense, and calm. A completely different version of the Toby that I feel is always twitching with the need to move, think, and do. Constantly. It's almost as if he vibrates with this internal force of thought. The need to know how something works, how it comes apart, goes back together, and most importantly, how can it be improved upon?

This is not how I think, nor how I operate. As a result of this it has taken me an incredibly long time to come to peace with Toby, who he is, and living side by side with him and his quirky differences that refuse to fit any mold. Specifically mine. And I'm still trying to grasp this peaceful co-existent factor. Which may or may not ever be achieved. I find that the more I understand Toby the more at peace I am in my mind at least, even if not in the course of the daily chaos.

I found myself looking at Toby in a slightly different light once the tire situation was settled (ie changed by Toby) and we were on our way to the Stern Center, once again safely ensconced in our normal routine of things. This child, who cannot remember to put the bread away, or his plate in the sink when he's done? This child who never seems to remember where his bike helmet has disappeared to, despite the fact that he is the only person who wears it? This child who swears that he has no appropriate and clean clothes whatsoever, only to find out that he could not be bothered to search to the bottom of the laundry pile? This child is entirely capable. At least in his element of the mechanical and electrical. Just not so much in my element of all things clean, such as laundry, dishes, and floors.

Apathy or Exhaustion? You Decide.

Sometimes at the end of the day I am decidedly frazzled, ready for the life of.......well anything other than child rearing and the endless and completely thankless job of stay at home Mom-dom. I would brave pirates on the high seas, or do battle with the most evil of villains bare handed (can you tell I have not had much in the way of adult interaction today??), anything but this.

Some day, I hope, my children will thank me. Thank me for making them toe the line, endless attempts at civility and compromises, and maybe see the light. Finally admit that who gets to flatten the blue play dough first is not worth cracking your brother up side the head with the rolling pin (it's a little one but I bet it still smarts). That's it's not worth kicking and clawing your way to the door to be first to receive that mysterious package from the UPS guy. Honestly, I feel as if I am bringing up a couple of children recently raised by wolves as I write all of this. And perhaps this will clarify some of my confusion and disbelief when people tell me how polite and well behaved my children are. I have actually heard this comment often enough that I now am able to (mostly) stifle the snort of derision that still bubbles within me at such moments.

Upon confronting Toby with the question of "So, you seem to be able to be polite and well mannered at other people's homes. How about bringing a little of that home with you to share with the family?"

Toby responded with wide eyed amazement. "Sheesh! Do you expect me to be polite all of the time???"

Well.......er........yes??? Oh, never mind! Because it is then that I realize that I am not always on my best behavior either. Do as I wish I could do, but not as I actually accomplish as I fumble along and struggle through my days.

I also realize with each passing year that the things that lift my spirits the most, are also more apt to be the things that cause me the most stress and heart ache. It's all part of the pain of growing up. I have long ago given up the foolish concept that I have grown up already. My children set me straight on that concept long ago.

My Promising Future Career as a Phone Bouncer

Yes, it is true that I am working hard in my Nutrition class. Studying , keeping up with the homework, etc. with the undying hope of some day gaining that Masters of Science degree. However, I have also decided to keep my options open to other lucrative possibilities as it were.

Take for instance the often underrated and yet all important job of phone bouncer. What stay at home mother has not wanted to pull her hair out by the roots just about every time she attempts to either make or receive a phone call? I myself have completely lost count of the number of times that I have heard the person on the other end of the line pause before asking rather hesitantly "Um, is this a bad time?" due to the obvious sounds of scuffle and yelling of the boys going on in the back ground.

Sorry? Could you define a good time? Because I'm telling you right here and now that the most peaceful moments for phone call activity in any house with small children is roughly between the hours of midnight and 4:00a.m. And that's in the rare situation when one of the wee little darlings isn't having a bad dream, fighting off a bad cold, projectile vomiting, or behaving as if they have had an IV drip of coffee attached to their arm for the entire day.

My husband has accused me of having developed a phone phobia over the years. Yes I have. And no small wonder I might add.

A couple of weeks ago on Doug's day off he was attempting to make a quick phone call without sequestering himself into the "office". AKA The bathroom, and only room in the house with a lock. I was standing at the sink washing dishes, when all of a sudden I sensed a sudden change and direction of the energy level in the room. The boys mere seconds ago had been behaving and playing quietly. When suddenly they turned on one another. Jonas with a boom whacker which he began to brandish at his older brother for no apparent reason, and Toby launched into his annoying older brother I'm going to tease you voice. It was like a vortex, and so thick as if to raise the hair on my arms. I immediately wiped my hands on the dish towel, grasped the boom whacker before it made contact with Toby's skull and hissed through my teeth at Toby "Upstairs until your father is OFF the phone," and distracted Jonas with the lure of Snoopy Halloween stickers in the other room.

And just like that, catastrophe diverted. I don't know about you, but I would be willing to pay good money for just such a service. Think how many phone calls you could fit into one hour of complete peace and quiet?? Knowing with calm assurance that this time at least you would not be interrupted. That perhaps this time you would sound like a shrieking banshee just to get the boys to stop whaling on one another the second your attention is diverted by the phone. I'm telling you, I think I'm on to something here.

And for now, please excuse me, I think I need to polish up my resume, as soon as I get done studying for my quiz.

Land of the Really Cool Guys and Now You Must Thank Me

The boys with the nesting boxes they helped Doug to build.

Here I am procrastinating. Doo Dah, Doo Dah. I should be doing my homework, well the rest of my homework that is. I should be getting ready for my first quiz. And I should really be getting all that darn laundry folded up and put away. Am I the only one who feels as if surely the neighbors are sneaking their dirty laundry in with ours? How is it possible that we generate this much in the way of dirty clothing in any given week? And that goes double for those darn dirty dishes! Arrgh.

In the meantime Toby has taken it upon himself to put Jonas' new bed together. In and of itself this would have been super helpful and greatly appreciated. If not for the fact that he refused to wait a gosh darn second as he was asked. Long story short, I did not curse (much) and the bed is now put together and Jonas is happy. This is an instance where I was actually able to channel this limitless energy for good rather than evil. So why am I so exhausted? It takes so much out of me just to channel this endless-and apparently DEAF- flow of energy. Why is it he is ready to go another round (or two or three) with less than a moments notice? I am sensing a lack of fairness in the universe right now.

And once the bed was put together, even though Toby was never asked specifically to "Please could you put this together for me?" he then turned around to his brother and said "Do you wish to thank me for putting your bed together?" Jonas of course said "Yes Toby, thank you." Being the easy going soul that he usually is. Thank goodness. It is at moments like these that I can almost picture Toby as an adult. Wherein he has turned into this ruthless dictator and completely taken over some small and easy going country. And then demands to be thanked for it. This is why I continue to slog my way forward and fight the battle in channeling this strong will and intense energy in a positive direction.

And while on the subject of good vs. evil........................

Jonas in his potty training frame of mind (we are finally making some serious progress here) has discovered the Incredible Hulk and Spiderman. In that order. And what, you may very well be asking yourselves, do these two characters have to do with using the toilet?

Well, they are blatantly displayed on Jonas' new big boy underpants of course. Though I have to say that the Hulk looks more like the Jolly Green Giant. And then Jonas of course needs to know just who this Incredible Hulk person is. Keeping in mind Jonas' tendency to be a little too believing in all things make believe I gave him a rather mild version. I think it was the part where I mentioned that the Hulk is apt to bust his way through brick walls that really got his attention, and dare I say admiration.

This was all well and good, except for the fact that Jonas then refused to wear the Spiderman ones. He seemed unnaturally wary of this Spiderman dude. I think it was the word "spider". Well, out of desperation we did some research (aka youtube) so that Jonas could get a look at what exactly it is that this Spiderman does. Because apparently my description of web slinging and catching bad guys wasn't doing it for him. Well, after one 56 second peek at a Spiderman clip, Jonas turned to me with big brown eyes opened wide.

"I just knew he was one of the cool guys!" he exclaims.

And so even though I feel as if somewhere along the way I was demoted to side kick rather than super cool super hero dude, the fight goes on. One dirty dish, one full laundry basket, and desperate dash to the potty visit at a time. May the force be with you.

Back to School Preparedness and Other Secrets of the Chicken Whisperer

Having just finished our first whirlwind "back to school" week with regards to Toby's schedule, I am now awaiting my first official week back to school with excitement and a touch of nervousness as well. I have finally realized that there will never be that magical chunk of free time in our lives, and so have taken the plunge and started the process of going back to school

to get my Masters Degree. I will be picking away at it one class at a time. Starting with this semester. Phew! Time to take a deep breath!

After his first week at the Stern Center Toby is very excited. On the way home Thursday he said with enthusiasm and a touch of amazement "That was fun! And I'm actually better at math than I thought I was!" Which I knew, because there is no way anyone can build the things he does without a firm grasp of mathematics. But for the kid who has experienced stalling points, frustration, and brick walls with regards to getting these ideas from his head and out on paper, it has been exhilarating to discover that there is life beyond pen and paper.

Jonas has been a bit birthday obsessed. His 4th birthday is a little over a month away, and in the meantime we have celebrated my birthday, his dad's birthday, his brother's best friend's birthday, as well as his own little best friend's birthday. So when is it going to be my turn already? He can't help but wonder about this I know. In the meantime he spends hours creating these elaborate play doh creations of birthday cakes complete with play doh candles that need to be "blown out".

And on the chicken front, we have changed gears and fenced the chickens in again. I have mixed emotions about this. They were very content in their free range life style. However, we do live in the village on a 4 acre plot of land. We have a shared driveway with an elderly couple. They happen to have a very well kept yard, complete with a beautiful vegetable garden and two rather elaborate flower beds. Do you see where I am going here with this line of thought? Turns out the chickens had discovered the handiness of having a tree sheltered driveway that they could just saunter right up and then voila! Paradise. So, I thought before some scathing letter to the editor turns up in the local paper about how there really ought to be some sort of a fencing regulation for barnyard animals within the village limits, we decided to limit the chicken boundaries. Which is how I found myself attempting to catch 14 free range chickens at dusk last night. There is a technique to this I assure you, that I seem to possess in spades. I have even been dubbed the chicken whisperer in our humble little house hold. Now if only I could learn to channel this power into other avenues of my life!