Well, I meant to post a special entry, because yesterday (the 7th) was my one year anniversary here in j-land.
Especially when I can't decide what to write, and Audrey has decided that I exist only to do her bidding.
Yeah, why write when I can be giving a three year old a pedicure? (She's so cute with her little blue toenails.)
Thankfully, my children all come with an "off" switch...bedtime. Thank god for bedtime. Yay, bedtime!
These past few days, I've been surprised and amused by my brood as well as my husband. My thoughts are all over the place, so bear with me.
First of all, my oldest decided he would like to journal, too. I was a little apprehensive about him doing it, because I compete with the kids for the computer enough as it is. And I was being protective, of his little sixth grade heart. But I let him do it, anyway. And if you can't pimp your own, who can you pimp? Visit him--and remember, he's only eleven. (He asked for help, setting things up and with the first entry. I told him he's on his own, from then on out. "But will you still check my spelling and punctuation?" How cute is that?)
Secondly, I rediscovered one should never underestimate the persuasive power that comes with being a grandchild. We were at my Mom's on Saturday. My Dad, Mr W and I were watching a football game, when Ryan waltzes into the room. He climbs up into my Dad's lap, and gives him a hug. Then he hits him with his request: "Tata, would you buy us the game, Star Wars Battlefront II? The boys and I would really like to have it." "What's that?" my Dad asked. I filled him in, that it was a new game whose release was timed to coincide with the release of the movie on DVD. (marketing, it's all about marketing...) "Where can we get it?" "Target." "Let's go." He's putting on his shoes, and I notice all of a sudden, Ben and Nolan appear out of nowhere; "what'd he say?" written all over their faces. Oh, I know this trick. My Dad went down the hall (for his wallet, probably) so I piped up "Okay, whose idea was it to send Ryan in for the kill?"
Laughter and finger pointing ensues.. "He did!" "No, he did!" "It was your idea!!" Nolan confesses: "Okay, Mom, this is what happened: Ben was too chicken, I was too chicken to ask, so we told Ryan to do it, and Ryan agreed, because he said, "Tata cannot resist me," so we sent him in." Pause. "Does this mean you're going to tell him not to get it for us?"
(Like I have a choice. I've given up long ago on trying to talk my Dad out of spoiling them, it's a grandparent's right, and I stay out of it. Unless, of course, he's buying them cigars and liquor, or talking about taking them on a special trip to Nevada for their 16th birthdays.)
Off we all go to Target. They are all happy happy. Until we get back, and the Xbox gets temperamental. I hate the Xbox for this reason. I believe ours came with a hormonal chip in it somewhere, that decides it hasn't been treated right and makes it not run for the rest of the day. I figure on some level, they are getting training for their dealings with women.
And speaking of women... My oldest is experiencing his first round of serious like, as in "I like her that way. Like her-like her." She's adorable. I'm wondering if this explains his behavior as of late, because I haven't found a pod in his room yet. I was convinced there was one, because he's normally quite even tempered--and lately, he's been Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. I know he's growing up, this is fine. Getting a little mouthy to prove it is not. His secret being out in the open has made his mood brighter. The clouds are open, and the sun is shining...for now.
In light of this, I asked his Dad to have a little chat with him, about well, you know. And he did, too. I wasn't forced into an awkward conversation that involved diagrams, which I can only be thankful for--although, I did mention that he shouldn't worry about what the other kids say, and listen to his own heart. Dad kept it simple, short, and sweet. I don't think it took longer than 10 minutes, and I was not present. Whew.
Thanks to the chat, and what my husband did for Ben yesterday, I have to say, my husband, well, he rocks. Ben lost a molar. He put it in a plastic baggie, and later when my husband was on a cleanup rampage, he threw it out. And didn't realize it until after I'd taken the trash out. I suggested Ben draw a picture for the tooth fairy, or write her a note, which would be fine. No, my husband went out to the trash can, found the right bag, went through it, and brought the tooth back in so Ben could put it under his pillow. I can only hope he cleaned the baggie off, but really, why get picky at this point? Tooth crisis averted, and Ben got 2 bucks for it. <shakes head> I can't believe him sometimes. He's amazing.
And I shouldn't be surprised about that.