Wednesday, December 30, 2009

My Fussbudget

I'm having to make myself blog. If I don't do it now, I feel as though I might not do it ever again. So, I'll blog about my trip to Braum's for milk and a handful of other items. I have an extremely sensitive child. I thought that he was just difficult, as it turns out it's a little more than that. Hopefully, I can post that situation later. Just know he's sensitive and a bit of a perfectionist, the world should turn in the idea of how he thinks it should turn. He's a fuss budget. And I love him.

Sooo, Braum's right. The boys picked up a couple of snack items while I was on my dairy run. All was well with the world. And then I checked out. Still well. I started to pay when Professor X began lamenting about not getting to put his item on the counter. I tried explaining this miscommunication about Momma not realizing he needed to place his item on the counter. The bellowing commenced. I said my usual, "Prof, you have this. You can control your tears." And while our emotional breakdown was occurring the lady behind the counter was looking at us like we were insane. I gave her encouragement, "It's okay, I forgot to let him place his item and pay for it. He's melting down but will be better shortly." She laughs. I noticed the Prof had ceased his hysteria only to realize that he had gone around the aisle, taken his item out of the bag, came back around and placed it back on the counter.

I looked at the lady, "Could you just pick that item up and place it in the bag as though he was the first to put it there?" Again, a glare of insanity, "You want me to put it in the bag?" Me, "Yes, he took it out of our bag and would like it very much if you took it from him and put in in the bag." Her, "Just pick it up and put it in the bag?" Me, "Yes, he's just particular. Could you just do it?"(in my kind voice.) Her, "O--kaaaay." Me, "You see he has oddities, sensitivities and the goal is to raise him by not giving in too much so that he thinks he can wail his life away just to get what he wants, yet not ignoring him and telling him to suck it up which will lead to a scarred childhood and resentment toward me. Yes, placing that in the bag really helped combat the whole scarring childhood thing. Thank you for helping me." She laughs and gives me one look of you are crazy, but have a great day.

*I have to note that this is the first clerk that has not immediately taken the item and made peace with the Professor. Yes, we have had a couple of these incidences before. And yes, it was funny because of the lady's reaction and the fact that the Professor's rearing has come down to a balance of 'suck it up' and coddling.

All in a days work.
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Thursday, December 17, 2009

A Self-Righteous Indignation Sort of a Birthday

Our Little Hoot turned 3 a couple of weekends ago. I was so excited for his day to come. I'm unsure why I had such anticipation. There is something magical about my Little Hoot. He's either really loud or really quiet. No in between with him. I feel like in the quiet moments when his eyes twinkle, he's telling me secrets. Secrets that he tells only his momma, the apple of his eye. But truly, his Daddy is the apple of his eye, so I often pretend that I'm his girl. The one he shares his twinkles with.


Not knowing what our birth future holds, he could be our last baby. He seems so indifferent to so many things. Perhaps that is why I was so excited for him. I wanted his eyes to twinkle and say Momma, this is amazing, balloons, horseshoes, lassos. All this for me. And if I am your last baby, please know that I so enjoy this, your last boy turning 3 for the last time.

No, that is not what he communicated to me. He had an air of self-righteous indignation when awakened and I bid him happy birthday. With an offensive tone, No, it's not my birthday! Me: Hoot, it is your birthday and your are 3. Hoot: NO! I'm not 3. I'm Hoot! Me: Yes, you are Hoot, and you are 3. Hoot: cries... I gave up. I would try throughout the day leading up to his party to carryout birthday wishes only to get the same responses.

Quirky picture. {let's be realistic, this is as good as as it gets}
This is where things started to click for him. Actually it was the balloons. We had to drag him away to make him sit for presents. The two older brothers decorated his package. T-Bird even drew on cowboy hats. Very thoughtful.


And this is the magic moment. He exclaimed, My cowboy, my cowboy, it's my cowboy! Because he just received a lasso. And then he didn't want to open anymore presents.




Telling us about his cowboy.




I love Brett's expression in the background. He was cracking up because Hoot was whirling his lasso and making crazy whirling lasso noises.

We got this for him to lounge on, but he insisted on riding it. So funny, and I felt slightly awful because it doesn't stand up. He has named him Spirit. Which is better that his other horses' names that are all named Horse.

And this was the twinkle moment that Momma had been waiting for. He was singing Happy Birthday to himself! And very pleased to do so!!

The indifference was gone and he had accepted the special day that it was!


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Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Kids and Christmas Decor

I had plans, oh I had plans. Grand they were. My Christmas decor was to be as show stopper. And highly untouchable. Hoot has used our Christmas tree as a playground for his horses and cowboys. I have never seen a tree so worked over!! After loosing an ornament a day for 5 days straight, we decided {the boys and I} to make this Christmas a ****"Kids in Charge of Decor Year."****

****It doesn't help that 4 big dogs {whom I love} ate my dining room Christmas tree {you would have loved it, my favorite shade of blue and homemade ornaments.} And that Hoot destroyed my Names of Jesus Garland. Maybe these played a role in the kids in charge of decor decision. Who am I to assume such nonsense?****

T-Bird has had a blast! This is right up his alley. So, let us share some holly jolly cheer with you.

T's Lego tree on his school desk. We should just refer to this area as Lego corner period.







Here is our storybook chair. The chair holds our Christmas books and jingle bells. The quilt gets spread out, the boys sprawl out and Momma sits in the chair reading to her little boys blue. {sigh of delight for this Momma}
Cowboy Christmas. Since all of the little boys think they will one day leave this homestead for a ranch in Texas {they have an idea that Texas looks like it did in the late 1800's--they are going to be disappointed}, it's only appropriate that they have a full on cowboy Christmas.





Ornaments of wagons, boots, Indian headdresses, horses, bells....
And on to the packaging. We are using good old fashioned brown paper. The kids decorated an entire roll. They've stamped, colored, painted and glued. This has been a fun craft session. We would work in 30 minute intervals each day. They really looked forward to their paper craft time each day.









T's table-scape. Candy canes, board games, nutcracker and the wintering Pixies. {I think the boy has some home decorator in him} The Pixies in their poinsettia home.
This one is a little spunky, you have to watch him!
And these two, don't even get me started on them....{!!}

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Saturday, December 12, 2009

Down the Mountain...


...through the river valley, across the crop fields to Nanny and Papa's house. A couple of weekends ago, we were able to go visit my Nanny. My kids always have a great time when they see Nanny and Papa. The great time could be attributed to the fact that my grandparents are insane, nutty, just too much...I blame a lot of my little 'quirks' on my Nanny's genes. Dang, those Barker genes! That's where the crazy is, I'm telling you!

Right of passage. Riding the tractor with Papa. How many grand kids have taken countless turns on that thing? I used to ride over the tires. I would NEVER let my kids do that EVER! What's good for the goose is not always good for the gander!!

The coveted sight of seeing the can shoot off the stack.




A lap full of blondies. Talkie blondies and that.








I love the priceless looks on my Papa's face.


See crazy. No hands! {Papa let's my kids do whatever, whenever. Which is why they don't go down there by themselves. Oh, they keep asking for a week with them. No way, it already takes me months to undo the 24 hours we have with them upon occasion. Crazies}



Great, Hoot is in charge of that wagon! Fearless leader again.
















Prof X retrieved Nanny, informing her that she had been outside too long and it was time for her to read to him. Bless her heart, I don't know how long she had to read to that kid.



And there's Uncle Chris. He's crazy too. But my kids love him. And that's Christy swinging my baby. She loves my baby. She's a good girl.






Football time.


My baby is going for it! Cover my baby!!










Fun, fun.



I have to tell a quick Hoot story. The evening that we arrived, the kids had been outside for a while. Lots of people going in and out. I noticed that Hoot was missing. I stepped outside into the pitch black dark and say "Hoot are you out here?" He answers back, "I'm up here!" Yes, up the tree house...in the dark...by himself...And this is where I say, "THAT KID!!!!"



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Friday, December 11, 2009

Paved Paradise

I came of age during the '90s, so part of me will always love '90s music. Oh, yes, '90s music, you were great. Counting Crows is still one of my favorite bands (even though we may not always agree politically). Remember the song Paved Paradise? I often sing that song. Brett and I drive around at least one weekend a month looking for our dream land, the place that we're gonna set up shop on. I cannot tell you how many times we have found 'the perfect spot' only to realize the it is/was part of a housing development that has yet to be developed. Oh, but they have paved the roads and cul-de-sacs. No houses, but baby, we have pavement! Ah, ack, ugh. Then I start singing Paved Paradise.

They paved paradise and put up a parking lot...They took all the trees, and put em in a tree museum And they charged the people a dollar and a half to see them Don't it always seem to go That you don't know what you got till it's gone They paved paradise, and put up a parking lot {Brett does the back up bopping}

Argh! Anyway, we have a paved paradise near our home. It's a grassland. The weather was recently nice {not this week...bbbrrrrrrr} so I loaded up the boys and their scooters to at least make use of the smooth pavement. They had a blast, but we were soon lured into the wonderful grassland...


When in doubt, carry your scooter.




I love this kid's beautiful, milky goodness. My little dutch boy.



Intense.



Tah-dah...Naturally nature....


Who let the little one lead?!? This happens all too often and is a bit disconcerting. Oh, fearless leader!






I'm a bit of a nut about acorns. A freckled fancy. Tiny acorns.





T-Bird pretending to be a Native American hunting buffalo.

We spent beautiful hours weaving in and out of the grass. The kids loved playing hide and seek in it. This area has been paved for over 5 years now with only a handful of houses down the road. Some have sat completely empty. I'm all for capitalism and growth, but I wish developers had been slightly more responsible.
{Random tangent:When I think about nature and how sometimes it's irresponsibly gutted out, I think of Fahrenheit 451. When I read it, I remember being so thankful for Clarisse McClellan and the fact that she was fun and noticed trees. I never want to live in a Fahrenheit 451 world. Even though the title of the book is hot, it was definitely a chilling read.}
Back to happy thoughts, we love this little area and will continue to make use of it until the houses are built.
It was a lovely day.
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