Burn Rubber Baby!

So my son my husband decided that the training wheels were coming off.  Even though I was excited for him, I'm his mom and all I could think of were broken bones, fast cars, stationary cars that he might pedal into, scraped knees, cracked skulls, dumbass drivers, etc. etc.  If it were to cause him a potential hurt, I thought about it.

Here is my son, getting the 411 on two wheelin'.

 Here is my son walking back to the 411 on two wheelin' after a small scare (which sent me into hysterics!). Be proud of me...I just kept taking pictures and kept my mouth shut. Almost shut. Ok...I yelled at my husband. Out of fear for my child I tell you.

Here he is taking off. Right after the 411 lesson. Isn't he so cool? and awesome? Did I mention he's 4? Oh, and he took right off. Did I tell you that already?

 I just feel the need to clarify: That is not a look of fear on his face. Ok? Ok. Glad we cleared that up.

 Here's my baby boy! I'm so proud of you!

 Now if I could only wrap him in bubble wrap.

They're Heeere!

The teeth are here.

See that glare? There on the upper right? Nope. Not a glare. It's the matching tooth. 4 of those suckers came in at the same time. Lovely.

Please pray for me.

Ahh, I mean him, totally him. 

And maybe just a little bit for me.

Please.

Then he just goes and makes me forget the sleepless nights, chin bites and did I mention I still nurse? melt with this:

Ignore the snot.  It's been a crazy, illness filled week. Or two. Definitely two. And please don't forget to factor in the teething.

Years from now, I'm sure I'll fondly re-read this post and wish for the days where you were still my little baby boy. 

But for now. Just pray people. Just pray.

Diego and Dora The Explorer

My firstborn son, Manuel, told me his first semi-dirty joke. He's eight and in second grade. That should explain it all. I've been expecting it since most of his comments, questions, and statements usually start with some sort of snort and snicker, followed by uncontrollable laughter, some inappropriate word, then some more snorting and snickering. Have to admit though, I wasn't expecting to laugh. A lot. Almost peed my pants. 5! kids really messes with your bladder. Just sayin'.


I will never see Dora and Diego the same way. Ever. Again.


And yes, I told him not to repeat it. Ever. Again. Gave him the talk and all that too ('cause you know I'm 'sponsible like that! You know that, right? Right?)

But if you want to know the joke, call me. It's funny as heck. ;)

EVOO

Started out as a regular, slightly chilly, but sunny day in April.  You know the kind. Where Spring plays peek-a-freaking-boo on frazzled mommies whose kids have had to stay one too many days indoors you.  Alyssa came home from school and I spent a few minutes in her room with her being hella nosy asking subtle, veiled questions about her day, who she hung out with, what she had for lunch, oh, you spoke with "that" guy? What's his name? you know, acting dumb to pump her for all the information I could possibly get my hands on. Our conversation started out with simple, everyday things, and then turned into WTH? And yeah, she pretty much tells me everything (or so I delude myself into thinking).

Alyssa: "Mom, my friends' sister told her she lost her viginity 5 times."

Me (picture my eyes bugging out, eyebrows raised to my hairline, yeah, not pretty, I know): "5 times, huh? Honey, baby, do you know what virginity is?"

Alyssa: "No."

No? No! No? 

How could my straight A beeeautiful daughter not know?  As I'm racking my brain trying to remember the specifics of what I've told her and come up blank on the whole virginity situation. Oh, I know. 'Cause the entire time I was explaining STD's and showing her medically explicit pictures of what could happen to her (hoping against all hope that the images would burn onto the back of her eyelids), explaining the whole 'your body is a temple' thing, and pretty much making sure she is super duper well informed, I somehow forgot to tell her that it all starts somewhere. Duh. Slap forehead.

Me: "Babe, once you have sexual intercourse you are no longer a virgin. You know, like extra virgin olive oil (what?).  It's made from the oil of the olives. So it's pure. No one or anything has touched or messed with it (grasping at straws here and failing). So, you can't lose your virginity 5 times. You can only lose it once."

Alyssa: "I get it mom. It makes sense."

Ok. This is where WTH comes in. Clearly it was not my best 'mom' moment and I know I got caught like a deer in the headlights. EVOO and virginity?  Who knew that analogy existed? I sure didn't. But it worked people. I blame this mental fart lack of coherent thought on peek-a-freaking-boo Spring.

Now, should it bother me that she made the nonexistent fleeting connection between EVOO and virginity? I can't afford to be picky my friends. I take what I can get.

Oh, and that friends' sister was 18. I asked. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't? Yeah, don't answer that.

Aiden Turns 3!

Aiden - According to Google, Aiden means, "Little Fire."

Ha! That is so him.

Aiden, you love to play, jump, roll, get dirty, play with mud, water, or anything that makes a mess, cake, cookies, candy, bugs, not spiders, soda, juice, chocolate milk, chicken with rice, your brothers, your sister, dad, mom, you say please and thank you all the time, Dora the Explorer, Diego, Thomas the Train, trains, cars, the Wiggles, more trains, super hero underwear, more trains, and the park.

You are one busy little boy who makes my world a better place. The wet smooches, "squeeze hugs" you give and the "suuuuckaaaah" you call everyone when you don't get your way are the staples of my life.

You are the most wonderful little boy and an integral part of our family. Sure, you "sometimes" throw your temper tantrums and show us how in a family of 5! kids you need to show who's boss. But in the end you cuddle up to me and tell me "sowee" and all is right with the world.

You're not a fan of Isaiah right now. Oh, you love him. I know that because you are kind to the baaabee. But I see how you struggle with wanting to be the baaabee again. That's my fault.  You see, I wanted you to stay a baby as long as possible so I really spoiled you (and I told everyone not to let you touch the ground or else!). No, really. Like you were attached to my hip spoiled. I would hoist your big ol' 1 year old baby body onto my hip and your leg would automatically go over my shoulder and your chubby hand would wind itself in my hair for a better grip. (My hair is still very thin in that spot son thankyouverymuch!) But would I put you down? Nope. Or how you learned to crawl at 10 months. And walk at 13 months. And start speaking at 20 months. Yeah, yeah, I know. That wasn't the best thing to do. But in retrospect, I wouldn't change a thing.

You love the idea of school. When you come with me to take Little Michael to school you do not want to leave...ever. You love the teachers, the kids, the colors, the toys, the play structures, everything. I hope you show this much enthusiasm about school when you get to high school son :) You know what, you'll be starting pre-school in August. And I'll be right there trying not to cry on my camera.

The zest of your life is the park. You calmly put on your shoes and wait patiently by the door until I'm ready. Ok, who am I kidding? You run to the door and pound on it all the while shouting "park" at the top of your lungs until I open it. And that's on a good day. So I've learned to get you ready first and then tell you where we're going.

Your hair. OMG! Your hair is the bomb! I love the ringlets after your bath. I don't love the matted mess it becomes 5 minutes after.  But it's so you. I love the golden colors in the summer and the thousand variations of brown in the winter.

And your tiny dimple on the right side of your mouth. Love it.

Ok, Ok. I could go on forever listing every attribute, every angle of your face, every emotion that I feel when I see you. But the world wide web isn't big enough room fo' all that!

So my lovely little fire, I love you. Happy birthday. My hope is that you live a life of happiness, that you make good choices, and that you always remember that your mommy loves you. No.Matter.What.

Oh, and thank you for choosing me as your mommy.

I Got Pushed

Yesterday this lady, who kisses me, hugs me, cuddles me, feeds me good stuff, gives me warm baths, blows raspberries on my belly, and lets me sleep with her took my brother Aiden sibling (anonymity is important - don't wanna cause problems here people) and I to play outside. 

I'll call her mom since it's what I've heard my other siblings call her.  It was a nice day, a little chilly, but that lady mom put a hat on my head so it stayed warm. She didn't change my clothes after breakfast so that explains the prune/applesauce stains. It's like Activia but for babies. That stuff works good. Oh, and the unsnapped snap...that's just me.  It takes alot of work to keep up with this figure these looks. Anyway, she put me on the slide and I sat there enjoying my new slide (for me anyway), and the breeze.

However, she then took out her camera.  

Started clicking away giving no notice when my brother Aiden sibling started climbing on this play structure (aka ghetto slide 'cause it has duck tape) and placed himself or herself directly behind me.  This caused me some concern as my developmental skills are right on track: for an 8th month old but therefore not developed enough to withstand the surprise attack on my persona that was to follow.  While "mom" was clicking away, I got pushed. Down the slide. 

When I finally rolled over (at the bottom of the slide) my view was this: 

Needless to say, all I can remember was the following conversation:

Mom: "Aiden, why did you push the baby! We don't push babies!" click, click, click.

Aiden Sibling: "Sorry baaaaby."

Mom: "Tell your brother you're sorry." click, click.

Aiden Sibling: "I did."

Mom: "Don't do that again! You could have hurt the baby!" click, click, click, click, click, click.

Aiden Sibling: "K mom."

I was ok though. Between the light at the end of the tunnel, peripheral flashing lights, and all that clicking, I thought it was actually kind of fun. Shhh, don't tell "mom". 

Don't be too hard on her for her inattentiveness. She did check me just to make sure I was ok. And she gave me lots of kisses and hugs. After that last picture was taken.

Building Character

So today was Alyssa's first softball game. Huh. I feel sorry for her coach. Her momma has a big mouth. And she's loud. And at any given time has at least four other little kids with her.

That being said, she played an awesome game. Where was my camera you ask? Oh, on top of the refrigerator 'cause it's the only place that 5 sets of hands can't reach. Or think of when I hide my crap. She plays 3rd base and like I said she's awesome. So anyhoo, check this out. We were up 11-4 and the coach told her teammate to strike out on purpose. WTF!?! Strike out on purpose? Excuse me, since when does one play to strike out on purpose? Uh, hello coach, you better run...from that little girl's momma! That momma was yelling at her daughter, "What kind of swing was that...". Well, you can imagine what she said. It wasn't nice. The coach cuts in and lets her know that he asked her to strike out 'cause we were literally grinding the other team into the dust. The momma stalked away, muttering under her breath. (Watch out coach, she'll come back, don't worry ;) 

We lost 15-13. When we were up 11-4 the 3rd inning. (We only play 4 innings.) And the clincher? That other team's coach was talking smack the whooole time. She even told her batter's to do everything they had to do to get to 1st base after the umpire rejected her claim that he didn't call some lame little thing on us. Good thing Lyssy had already been to bat 'cause...you know I didn't want to have to call anyone to bail me out auntie.  Well that momma came back with a "question" for the coach. You know what he told her? It builds character. What builds "character"? The fact that you lost the first game for us? Or the fact that you're just, uh, not a good coach? If that was your plan, you hit it. Coach. 

Oh, and you know who my first call is to tomorrow morning? To your boss, coach. 

Oh, and your's too, other's teams coach.  

Teach you a little 'character building'. 

Thank You

Aiden and I had one of those rare one-on-one moments that come across rarely with 5! kids. We were playing with his trains, rolling around in the living room, tickling each other, just having fun. I whispered in his ear, "You know, I made you in my belly." And he whispered back in my ear, "Thank you."

Happy Birthday Grandpa!

We hope your day is wonderful!

Thank you for lending us Grandma Bell!

Thank you for taking such good care of us!

and Alec! and Michael! and Grandma Bell!

We love your presents!

Thank you for all that you do "behind the scenes!"

We love and appreciate you sooo much...

Happy Birthday Grandpa Rafa!

Aiden was in the hallway. He didn't want to take a picture. Sorry :(

Celebration Church

But apparently you have to celebrate quietly. 

This weekend my family attented our second service at Celebration Church. We also attended last week and needless to say it was a little stressfull.  Aiden peed had an accident in his Sunday school class/daycare.  Wouldn't ya know it, of course I forgot his change of clothes. So Big Michael went to Wal-Mart across the street and bought him a change of clothing, took him back to class, and came back just in time for the blessing (at the end of service)! Meanwhile I was in service with Isaiah who for some reason just wanted to nurse. Constantly. During the entire service. Oh, and he doesn't like to be covered while he partakes with his meals. So, yeah, I was trying not to flash the entire congregation. Did I mention he tried to do this for the entire service?  So, anyhoo, thank goodness my in-laws where there to assist with Little Michael (who by the way didn't think that Sunday school was for him). 

This time around, we got up early, had breakfast, got 5! kids ready, and were out the door with time to spare.  This never happens people. So I was in a pretty good mood :) which also never happens people.  Got there and unloaded took Aiden and Manuel to class. Alyssa, Little Michael, Isaiah, Big Michael, and myself sat at the back of the building like instructed by the ushers because we had kids. When I say back of the building I mean like last corner row, closest to the door. Halfway through service Isaiah starts chewing on his toy, babbling to himself. Not loudly, not crying, or even upset. Just babytalk. This usher man, comes over to me and asks me to leave.  Because Isaiah was talking. Because they are recording the service. Whose recording equipment are all the way across this ginormous room. I got up pissed a little miffed and took my baby outside. Where there are 4 flat screen tv's televising the service. Tell me, with all this state of the art equipment, how do you hear a baby babbling when there are multiple people "enthusiastically" interacting with the pastor. And by enthusiastically I mean they are loudly praising God. Which is great. Fine. Wonderful. Love it.

However, when I felt brave enough to go back in and listen to the word of God with my family, here came usher woman.  She insisted that the recording could still pick up my son's babbling (remember, enthusiastic people all around me) and could I please get out leave. I kind of just ignored her politely nodded and stayed seated.  The third time she came around she waited until I got up.  By this time I was more than a little miffed, embarassed, and irritated. Got my kids together and left. 

So what does one do in a situation created from this unusual circumstance?  I mean, it's not like I can just ask for their supervisor. "I need to talk to your supervisor. Please put God on the line."

The irony of it all: I really enjoyed this church. My kids loved it. Aiden looooooved his class/daycare. I truly feel that it can become a source of peace and inspiration to become better parents, wife and husband, friends, and all around nicer people.

I will take the advice of my wise, young, daughter and we will be returning this weekend ;) Alyssa reminded me that third time's the charm. Right?

Can I get an Amen!

Now who in their right mind would

kick this beeeautiful baby out?

"Let the children come to me; do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of god. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not recieve the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." -Mark 10:13

P.S. The baby daycare had 3 babies, in bouncers, crying.  1 young girl woman sitting in a rocking chair with another baby.

P.P.S. I really don't like leaving my kids anywhere when they can't yet talk. So sue me.

P.P.P.S. Usher man and usher woman: how do you know my baby wasn't conversing with God Almighty himself? I certainly hope he was.