Found....

hanging around suspiciously near the fireplace chimney.... one letter, that reads as follows:

Dear Stata

wach out thay are traps in my bedroom!  And can you put presents in my room.

Colby

Also found - several contraptions/traps upstairs, a camera rigged to shoot video under the Christmas tree, and two little boys who are "concentrating really hard on finding Santa" right now.  Instead of making their beds, like their mother asked them to. 

Bible Timeline

We were doing our Advent calendar tonight, and Quinn read an old testament prophecy.  Then he explained it to his brother.

Quinn: "See, Colby, that was told wayyyyyyyyyyyyy back in Jeremiah, and Jesus wasn't even born until JOHN, right mom?"

Opposition

It's much to young to be starting this, but my son Quinn says "no" to EVERYTHING. I. SAY.  It's like I'm dealing with a 14 year old in a 7 year old's body. 

Mom: "Quinn, get your shoes on,"
Quinn: "NO!"
Mom: "Quinn, you need to get ready for your pageant tonight."
Quinn: "It's not tonight.  It's tomorrow."
Mom: "It's tonight.  See on the calendar?"
Quinn: "The calendar's wrong."
Mom: "Quinn!  We're going to go home, clean your room, and then make a snowman."
Quinn: "I don't want to make a snowman!  No!"
Mom: "Oh look!  It's snowing outside, just in time for Christmas!"
Quinn: "No it's not."

No it's NOT?????  What's the white stuff falling from the sky??
Quinn: "Well, it's not JUST in time for Christmas."

UGH.  Oppositional child.  Just say "YES MOM" once in awhile!!!

Santa Letter From Quinn

Found THIS is Quinn's backpack today:

Dear Santa,
I love the presents you gave me last year and I hope you give the presents I want this year.  I would like a laptop  so I can email you.  I would also like a DS with the lego star wars game.  I really like that.  I really (want):
1.  DS with the lego star wars
2. laptop
3. Ipad with a charcher (charger)
4.  cars for my sister

I want an iPad with a charcher.  I would really like that.  I'm being so nice about it.  Can you give some cars for my sister? 

Love, Quinn
To Santa

Editor's Note:  This kid has expensive taste!  He's SEVEN.  We're in so much trouble.  I find it funny that he doesn't want Santa to forget the charger for the iPad.   I'm afraid Santa is going to disappoint him.  We've talked alot about what pricey things he has asked for, and he keeps telling me that "It's expensive for YOU, but not expensive for SANTA, because Santa makes his own."  He's at least thought it through. 

Grammar

Mom: "Quinn!  I need you to pick up the clothes on the floor in your bedroom so I can shampoo your carpet.  If you hurry, maybe I'll let YOU shampoo your carpet."

Quinn: "Mom, I don't need to be shamp-ing any poo."

Wha-huh?

The boys came home from church today, and I asked them to change their clothes, so we could go out into the woods and cut down a Christmas tree. Quinn (after no less than SIX reminders to do this one simple chore) finally came down with clothes changed.  In shorts and a T-shirt.

Mom: "Quinn, it's 23 degrees outside.  You can't wear shorts and a T-shirt."
Quinn: "Mom!  I'll wear a coat!  It's not that cold out there!"
Mom: "Go change.  Put on sweats and a sweatshirt."

(a few minutes past)
Quinn: "There, Mom, I did it.  See?  I put these over my shorts and T-shirts."
Mom: "All you did was put on a different pair of church pants.  I want you to wear sweats or jeans.  We're going out into the woods!"
Quinn: "Why can't I wear these pants?"
Mom: "Because they're church pants!!!"
Quinn: "Give me a different reason besides that they're church pants."
Mom: "How about 'I'm your mother and I SAID SO."
Quinn: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.... that's not a good reason either."

Mom: "Go. Upstairs. And. Change.  NOW.  Pretend that I'm picking out what you're wearing.  Wear what you think I'd pick out for you."

After the third full outfit change, Quinn FINALLY came down appropriately dressed for the weather and activity.    Okay.  That only took exactly 23 minutes.

Now to work on the next boy, who hasn't even started yet.

Chicken and Eggs

Colby: "Mom, I know how the egg gets out of the chicken."
Mom: "You do?"
Colby: "Yeah.  The chicken POOPS them out!"
Mom: "Are you sure?"
Colby: "Yes."
Quinn: "Of course, Mom.  That's why they call eggs DUMPlings."

Good grief.

Thankfulness

Found this note in Colby's backpack after school (spellings left intact):

THINGS I AM THANKFUL FOR:
I love my grampa and grandma because my grampa and grandma give me stuff I like, my dogs because I like playing with them.  My dad is speciall to me because he let's me watch tv and he gives me good stuff to eat.  And the most of all I love my life and all these things. 

I showed it to Rob, telling him it would "make him feel awesome", which of course it did.  Rob beamed and said "I really DO try to make a nice meal for them on Mondays when I'm in charge of dinner."

We Suck.

We suck.  Really.  We do.  Because Quinn came home from school, having lost his front tooth, all excited.  Then, he promptly put it in a cup for safe keeping, then put the cup on his dresser so his mother couldn't throw it out when doing the dishes, and so he wouldn't lose it and have to write an apology note to the tooth fairy.   He exhibited full tooth-loss etiquette.  Followed every last rule.  And STILL, the next morning, the tooth fairy forgot to take his tooth and leave a dollar.  He came downstairs with his tooth in his hand, near tears. 

Quinn: "The tooth fairy didn't want it."
Mom: "Uhhhhhhhhhhh."
Quinn: "It was in the cup, and I put the cup in my bed by the pillow, and she didn't TAKE IT!"

((Forehead slap)).  We suck.  I madly whispered to Rob to sneak upstairs and "check" to see if he could "find" the tooth fairy's deposit.  In the mean time, I tried to backpedal with Quinn.

Mom: "Quinn, maybe the tooth fairy doesn't need any more teeth, because she has enough for her job.  You said that Tucker lost a tooth yesterday, too.  Maybe she filled her quota for our area.  And there's  a recession going on - money is tight, you know...."  LAME. LAME.  LAME. 

Rob (coming in and stopping the train wreck that I was creating): "Quinn, did you actually LOOK for a dollar, or did you just see the tooth and not go any farther than that?"

Quinn: "Well, if she didn't take the tooth, I'm sure she didn't leave anything."

Mom: "Well, let's go look together.  Maybe she did leave something, and just didn't need the tooth."

So, we went upstairs and rummaged under the pillows and found, under the covers, surprise surprise, a single greenback.  I thought we'd saved the day. But Quinn still looked crestfallen. 

Quinn: "It's supposed to be gold."

Mom: "What?  What are you talking about?  You got a dollar last time..."

Quinn: "Yeah, but that was because I lost my tooth.  You told me the tooth fairy doesn't give golden dollars if there's no tooth.  There WAS a tooth this time, and I still didn't get a gold dollar."

This tooth fairy is MUCH too legalistic.  Honestly.  How much longer can I cover her incompetent tracks????

So here's where I was debating very seriously with myself.  Do I come clean, admit what an idiot I am, and take all that disappointment aimed at the tooth fairy onto myself?  Or do I continue to weave fanciful,  elaborate rules in order to keep the "magic" alive?  Good parenting would probably say I should do the former, but... I just didn't want to kill his innocent childhood just yet.  He's going to be losing alot of the "magic" of childhood in a very few years.  It's death will not be at my hands.  So, I told a whopper.

Mom: "Quinn, I have a feeling the tooth fairy didn't take your tooth, because she didn't see it in the cup, and she thought you lost it.  So she gave you the regular dollar.  Let's put it with the dollar, and a note explaining everything, under your pillow tonight, and we'll see what happens."

This perked him up considerably.  It was all a silly misunderstanding.  The Tooth Fairy will redeem herself.

She just had BETTER not mess up again!!!

Perspective and Genetics

Mom: "Colbyman, why don't you let me hold on to your Harry Potter glasses for the Halloween party."
Colby: "Why, Mom?"
Mom: "Because I don't want you to lose them."
Colby: "I won't lose them!"
Mom: "Where are they right now?"
Colby: "They were just in my ha-- I don't know.  WAIT!  Here they are on the coffee table."
Mom: "See?  You're the world's Greatest Thing Loser. I'll put your glasses in my purse, and then they won't get lost."
Colby: "Mom.... I'm not the world's Greatest Thing Loser.  I'm the world's Greatest Thing FINDER, because I'm always having to FIND the things that aren't there anymore."

OOOOOOHHHH.  HMMMM.  It's all how you look at it, isn't it Little Man?

Editor's Note:  "World's Greatest Thing Loser" is a dominant genetic trait that he inherited from the maternal side.  As proof -- after putting the glasses in my purse for safe keeping, I proceeded to LOSE MY PURSE for 20 minutes as we were getting in the car for the Halloween party.  As I was running around like a madwoman, family loaded in the truck and ready to go, I was screaming at my husband to HELP ME AND NOT JUST STAND THERE AND PLAY WITH YOUR PHONE!!!  He looked at me calmly and said "I'm calling your cell phone to find your purse."  Oh.  Sorry.  And... there it was, in the car, where I had put it to get ready to go to the Halloween party.  Poor Colbyman.  I'm sorry you got "thing loser-ness" from me.  By the time we got to the party, Colby had lost his Harry Potter tie, that had been STRAPPED TO HIS NECK.  Sheesh.  No one put the two of us in charge of National Secrets or anything, PLEASE.

Understatements

Colby (coming in from outdoors where the boys had been playing):  "Mom, can I have a washcloth?"
Mom: "Why do you need a washcloth?"
Colby: "Quinn's a mess."
Mom: "You guys had better not be playing in the mud!  What did Quinn do to make himself a mess?"
Colby: "It's gushing."  That got my attention.
Mom:  "WHAT is gushing?"
Colby: "His head.  It's gushing blood."

OK.  Could you maybe ramp up the excitement level just a BIT, there Colby????  I went outside to find a scene from "Carrie".  You know.   This:

It was gruesome - the kid was covered from the top of his head to his torso with blood.  I could barely see his eyes.

Mom (in a total panic): "QUINN!!!!  What happened!!  ARE YOU OKAY?????!!!!"
Quinn, nonchalantly: "Colby thought I was dead, Mom.  I'm getting blood up my nose."

Well, LOOK at you, kid.  You LOOK dead.    If Quinn was actually dying, though,  I would hope Colby would come in shouting "EMERGENCY EMERGENCY EMERGENCY" instead of lackadaisacally sauntering in to ask for a washcloth.

For the record, Quinn is fine.  Head wounds bleed profusely.  It's superficial.  But STILL.  SHEESH.  That much blood should cause a LITTLE BIT MORE OF A STIR.  Good grief children. You scream bloody murder when I trim your fingernails, and THIS is no big deal?????

ADDENDUM:  Washed the child up, put pressure on the wound until it stopped bleeding, then began carving pumpkins at the kitchen island.  Quinn fell off his stool and hit his head on the corner of the granite.  I found him whimpering on the floor, otherwise I wouldn't have known that he fell.  When I asked him if he was okay, he just said "That's going to turn into a goose bump, Mom."  And continued carving.  These hard-headed children.  Give their Mom a heart attack!!!!

The Yucky Kind of Chicken

Colby: "Mom, what's for dinner???"
Mom: "Chicken and rice."
Colby: "What kind of chicken?"
Mom: "Broiled chicken.  You know.  Chicken."
Colby: "You mean the kind of chicken that's been SHOT?"
Mom: "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......."
Colby: "Or do you mean good chicken, like chicken nuggets?"
Mom: "I guess the kind that's been shot."
Colby: "NOOOOOOOOOOO!  I don't LIKE that kind!!!!"

Unfortunately, I completely understood what Colby was talking about.  Let me take you on a little tour of his brain, to understand where the description of "shot" chicken came from....... free associate with me here...... boneless, skinless chicken breast is  unprocessed and you can actually tell that it's real meat, which obviously came from a real chicken, that had to DIE in order for it to end up on our plates (thus, it has been 'shot')....whereas chicken nuggets are processed to the point  where it seems apparently that those chickens just "lay" little nuggets, without it causing their death.   Not only are chicken nuggets more humane, but they taste better, too.  In Colby's world.

Am I That Transparent????

After church today, while I was waiting for the boys to get out of Sunday school, a five year old boy (who had sat in front of us during the service) came up to me and said THIS:

Little boy: "Your boys annoy you during church, don't they."
Me: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Well, sometimes they have a hard time sitting still and paying attention."
Little boy: "That's because of the baby.  She's always bugging them."

So, my perceived subtle cues to keep the boys focused are seen right through by A FIVE YEAR OLD.  OK.  In my defense, little boy..... do you have any idea how hard it is to control three energetic kids by myself for an entire hour during a quiet, meditative MASS??????  YOU are surrounded by both parents, grandparents, and two sets of aunts and uncles - none of which have other children.  Maybe I could borrow some of your adult supervision for MY horde in the back pew!

The Gluten Free Diet

Quinn: "Mom, this bread feels like copper!"
Mom: "Uh, what?"
Quinn: "It's totally heavy, like copper!"

Gluten-free bread is not going over especially well in the house just yet.

Warnings:

Colby was up at 5:30 this morning.  I made him crawl into bed with me until 6:30.  He did not go back to sleep, but squiggled for a full hour.  When Quinn got up at 7 am, he came to me and said "Mom, Colby's acting weird."

Mom; "Weird?  Why?"
Quinn: "I don't know.  Weird.  He's upstairs watching Yoga."
Mom: "That's not too weird."
Quinn: "Yes it is.  I don't know.  He's just being weird."

So then Colby comes downstairs, climbs into a rocking chair, and says "Mom, I can't walk".
Mom: "You just walked right over there.  I watched you."
Colby: "But I'm heavy.  I walk weird."

He ate a full breakfast, he doesn't have a fever.  What am I supposed to do with "weird" and "heavy"????  That both boys are catching on to Colby's "weird" vibe worries me, but I'm at a loss until something a little more definite presents itself.

I have a feeling a little boy may be getting sick.  Great.

Diagnosis at this point: general malaise.  That's a "you're still going to school" diagnosis, thank you very much.

Physics

I really have no idea how these topics of conversation come up, but tonight at dinner, the boys were asking about Einstein's theory of relativity.  Actually, it started off with some comment about a sonic boom happening when something moves faster than the speed of light, and I corrected whichever boy it was that said it. 

Mom: "The sonic boom happens when something breaks the sound barrier."

Quinn: "So, what happens when something moves faster than the speed of light?"

Mom: "Well, Einstein theorized that if something moved faster than light, then TIME changed.  Like you here on earth would still age and be like 15 years old, while Colby up in space moving really fast would still be seven."

Colby: "Uh-uh.  No way.  That's not true."

Mom: "Well, that's what Einstein said, and he was one of the smartest people on the planet."

Colby: "I think Einstein was the first person to get the theory of relativity WRONG!!!"

Mom: "Well, it is just a theory."

Quinn: "I wonder what would happen if my mouth moved faster than the speed of light?"

Mom: "I think that sometimes it already does, Quinn.  It already does."

Just what goes through their little brains, interspersed between poop jokes and  tourette's-like fart sounds, blows me away.

What My Kids Teach Me

Why is it, even though I am the parent, it seems like I learn far more from my kids than they do from me???  Tonight, I was upstairs watching Nova with the kids for a family movie night.  Reagan started getting antsy, so I took her downstairs and put her to bed.  Then I stopped to pick up a few clothes, check my email, and look up a bank statement on the computer.  Then I went back upstairs to kiss the boys goodnight, as Rob had put them into bed.

Quinn: "Mom, where'd you go?"
Me: "I went to put Reagan to bed."
Quinn: "But you didn't come back up afterwards."
Me: "I'm sorry.  I had to check on a few things."
Colby: "Mom, you should check email after we're in bed."
Me: "You're right.  I'm sorry."
Quinn: "Mom, why do you work so much?  That's all you do.  Work work work.  Sometimes you just need to RELAX."
Me: "Well, there's alot to get done around this house.  Someone needs to cook dinner, and clean, and do the laundry.  It's stuff that needs to get done."
Colby: "That's what LABOR DAY is for.  To labor.  Otherwise, you should just have fun."  OOOOH, how I WISH that were true, Colbyman!!!
Quinn: "Mom, spend time with us first.  Have fun.  THEN do your work afterwards."

It almost made me tear up, hearing my boys talk like this.  They're right.  I so rarely just stop and PLAY with them.  It's always do this, go there, get that done, nag nag nag.  They're growing up so fast, and I get so overwhelmed with the day to day junk.  I need to prioritize the most important things FIRST, and let everything else fall into place.  And right now, spending time with the kids - REALLY spending time with them, not just "around" them - should be my top priority.  Because their little boyhood is ending faster than the speed of lightning, and it will soon be replaced by teenagers who want absolutely nothing to do with their mama.

Why is that song "Cat's in the cradle" playing in my head right now?????

Tooth Fairy Fraud

Quinn lost his top right tooth the other day on the bus-ride home from school.  Very exciting, as we have not experienced tooth loss for quite some time around here.  He at first put the itty-bitty thing in a glass of water, then under his pillow, then decided to play with it, then... well.... take a guess.  Lost forever in the abyss that is a 7 year old boy's room.  So he wrote a letter to the tooth fairy, explaining the mishap.  As his brother had also lost (literally) a tooth, he knew that the tooth-fairy had an "apology note accepted" policy. 

Quinn: "Mom, I wrote the letter to the tooth fairy.  He'll still give me money, right?"
Mom: "I'm assuming so.  He did with Colby."
Quinn: "Well, I'll put the note under the pillow tonight, and get my dollar.  But if I find my tooth, I'll put it under there AGAIN and get another dollar!"
Mom: "Quinn, that's cheating!  Only one dollar per tooth.  The tooth fairy isn't dumb, you know."
Quinn: "Yes he is!  He's got a really, really small head, so he must have a really, really small brain!"

I truly am raising con men, I think.  Why can't they use their brilliance for the forces of good?????

Barefoot

Found Colby's shoes by the door today.  Inside.  Where he took them off before going OUTSIDE.  UHHH. Wait.  Shouldn't that be the other way around????  Do you need to protect your feet from carpet or dirt, little man???

Cheating

Mom: "Hey, Quinn!  How was your field trip to the Rosza Center yesterday?"
Quinn: "Good.  They had African music."
Mom: "Cool!"
Quinn: "But there was a lady in the back cheating."
Mom: "Cheating?"
Quinn: "You know. She was at the board with all the dials, making the music sound better than it really was.  If the music was GOOD, she wouldn't have to do that!"
Mom: "Oh.  The sound board?"
Quinn: "Yeah."

MISSION: Possible

I awoke to this conversation, coming from my bathroom.

"Tie the tooth with the floss, and tie it to the door."
"Is this enough floss?"
"Yeah.  That's how much I have"
"If you write the tooth fairy a note, that's good enough, even if you don't have the tooth."
"Maybe she'll leave us FIVE DOLLARS because we're losing so many teeth at once."
"Make sure the string is tight, not loose.  It won't work if it's loose."
"On your marks.... get set.... go!"  (SLAM!)
"Wow!  The door pulled me forward, it was so strong!  Let's do that trick again!" (SLAM)
"It broke that floss"
"I'll slam harder".

Schemers.  Little boys both have the front top right tooth loose at the same time, and the past 24 hours has been a full-out campaign to get those teeth out of their heads.  At church last night, I had to remind the boys that having floss hanging out of their mouths while bringing up the gifts for communion and handing out the programs probably wasn't going to look the best.  They agreed, luckily, but only for the length of the service, and then they were right back at it.  Tooth fairy better be getting ready!!  Them teethes days be numbered!  The Dynamic Duo will make sure of it!

Trees

Mom: "Boys, what are you doing?"
Colby & Quinn: "Sleeping."
Mom: "Aren't you up in a tree?"
Quinn: "Yeah.  We're gonna spend the night up here."
Mom: "What's Reagan doing?"
Colby: "She wants to sleep up here, too, but we can't get her up."


UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Hmmmm.  They're quiet, I'll give them that.  Still don't get high scores for safety awareness, though.

Of Gas and Spatulas

Quinn was making himself and Reagan breakfast this morning, using my griddle.  I told him to be careful and not burn himself.

Quinn: "Don't worry Mom.  I won't burn myself.  I have this flatula".

Hee hee hee.  If he only knew what "flatula" really meant ;).

FUSION and FISSION

Thanks to grandma and grandpa, the boys have had two nights apart from each other.... one with grandma and grandpa, and one with Mom and Dad.  It has been.... amazing.  We have long known that our boys, when separated, exhibit levels of maturity, good behavior, focus, and general delightfulness that we do not get to see otherwise.  We just don't get to experience the phenomenon all that often.  Take yesterday for example.  Quinn had spent the night at his grandparents, where he completed several puzzles and ate pancakes.  Later, we made the switch with his brother, and he came home to help me clean the house (polished the furniture without me asking), and then helped me bake dinner.  FOR AN HOUR.  We had an "iron chef" bake off, with Quinn preparing the carrots from our garden and making stuffed mushrooms, Dad smoking a turkey, and Mom making dessert.  It was so fun.     Colby rejoined us for dinner, and both boys immediately began skateboarding down the front hill, whining about dinner being "rotten", wrestling non-stop, and generally losing about 5 years of maturity in a single instant.  After dinner, when Colby left to spend the night at grandma and grandpas -- Quinn snuggled in for an enjoyable movie night with Mom and Dad.  It's like "little angel.... fusionwithtwinbrothertransformingchildrenintohyperactivewrestle-maniatasmaniandevils...... back to little angel".  Everyone notices it.  It's an evidence-based, scientific fact in this house.  My lobbying to put this data to good use and put the boys into separate classes at school failed.  They'll be in the same class again.  I have hopes that it will go well, and that their behavior improves over the past two years.  If it doesn't, I'm bringing up the lobbying efforts again, because I do NOT want them labeled as "bad kids" in a small school, when I know what GREAT kids they can be, as long as their brother is not in the vicinity. 

Do all twins have this problem, or is it just an "Aho" thing?????

Death-defying Beauty

Last night at grandma and grandpa's house, Quinn and Colby decided to do a little tree climbing.  I didn't notice until someone told Rob, who yelled "Quinn! Colby!...... MOM!"  As in.... Mom, go keep your sons from killing themselves. 

I glanced over, and didn't see them at first.  I thought they were in the neighbor's yard.   Until my nephew told me to look up.  "They're at the top of that tree.  The VERY top."  As in 35 feet up.  Oh good grief.

Mom: "Boys!  You come down from there RIGHT NOW. "
Quinn and Colby: "WHY???"
Mom: "Because you can fall.  That's way too high."
Quinn: "Mom, we're okay!  We're not going to fall!"
Colby: "The view is BEAUTIFUL up here!  I can see all the way to Copper Harbor!"
Mom: "The view is beautiful from six feet.  Get down here."

UGH.  It takes constant vigilance to keep the boys from attempting to kill themselves.  When does self-preservation kick in?  Because as much as I don't want them to grow up fast, I can't WAIT for that part of their development to start.

Get Ready to RRRRRRRRRUMBLE!

The boys have been wrestling.  Nonstop.  Can't keep their hands off of each other... at home, at church, during a soccer game.  It's like living with two wolf cubs, constantly tussling, and it drives me crazy.  PLEASE stop putting your brother in a headlock.  PLEASE!

Last night, while we were eating dinner, Quinn pops off with this....

Quinn: "Mom, my muscles are telling me I need to wrestle.  RIGHT NOW."
Mom: "NO, Quinn!  No wrestling  at the dinner table!"
Quinn: "But my muscles need it!  I can feel it!  They just want to go BBBBBBBOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHHHHH". 

As a pediatric physical therapist, I find this very interesting, and actually very helpful (although I'm not about to tell Quinn that).  Because, although "BOOOOSH" might not be a medical term, he's very astute in saying that his muscles are "telling him" that they "need" wrestling.  The boys are growing fast, which affects the proprioceptors (sensory organs that relay information on body position) located in muscles and joints.  The boys are going through a stage where their brains are literally CRAVING more information from these proprioceptors - proprioceptors that are stimulated by the mechanical deformation caused by pushing and pulling.  This translates in a 7 year old boy's world as "wrestling".  Constant wrestling.  And who better to wrestle with than the overly willing twin brother whose body is going through the exact same thing at the exact same time?

I'm thinking that gymnastics may need to be in our future as well.  Really - these boys need something INTENSE, or they're going to end up hurting each other!

Boys In the Window.......

 Mom: "Boys, what are you DOING in there?"

My answer?

Uh, that's what I thought.  Playing the iPod I was charging up!

Snippets From Colby

Colby: "Mom, when I grow up, now I want to be an international spy.  International spies are real, you know.  Except that they never tell their children what their real jobs are.  I hope I remember not to tell my kids that I'm an international spy when I'm a grown up."

Mom: "Might want to write it down so you don't forget."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Colby: "Mom, guess what?  I just saw Aunt Diane and Uncle Tom!"
Mom: "What?  Just now?"
Colby: "Yeah!  I was outside walking down the road, and Aunt Diane and Uncle Tom drove by and waved to me!"
Mom: "Uhhhh, except that they're in Minnesota right now, so it's probably not them."
Colby: "Yes, it WAS!  The lady had blond hair, the man had a moustache and they waved to me.  No one ever waves to me unless they're my family!"

That's pretty good figurin'.  Maybe Uncle Tom and Aunt Diane snuck into town without telling anyone!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Colby: "When I grow up to be the government, I'm going to make everything free, and no one has to work."

What political system would that be?  Communism?  Anarchism?   Socialism?  I think maybe it's just straight Colby-ism.  Whatever country he's the government of - I want to live there (at least for the first year before it collapses in on itself). 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mom (Reading Pippi Longstocking to her sons): " 'and Pippi lived all alone with no mother or father' ".
Colby: "YEAH!"
Mom: "What???  You're cheering her being an orphan?"
Colby: "She had no parents to tell her what to do!  She could do whatever she wanted!"
Mom: "Who would tuck Pippi in at night?"
Colby: "She'd never have to go to bed!"
Mom (reading the next sentence): "and Anika and Tommy lived next door with their Mother and Father, who made sure that they went to bed on time and kept their clothes clean."
Colby: "BOOO! That's like you, Mom!  That's what you want!"

I really think I'm raising an anarchist over here.  Motherhood is such a thankless job.

No way. Nu-Unh. NEVER.

Colby: "Mom, can I have a dollar?"
Mom: "Why do you want a dollar?"
Colby: "I want to buy some 5-Hour Energy."
Mom:  "WHY do you want 5-Hour Energy?"
Colby: "Because, I'm really slow and lazy, and I need a boost."
Mom: "I believe the lazy part."

It scares me to death, even the NOTION of my boys on a drink designed specifically to increase their energy.  Holy cow.  Can you imagine??  I mean, really.  CAN YOU IMAGINE??????
{{SHUDDER}}

7 Year Stats

Well-Child visits yesterday.  Colby weighs 50 pounds, and is 49.5 inches tall.  Quinn weighs 54 pounds and is 50 inches tall.  For the record books.  That puts Colby in the 42nd percentile for weight and 63rd for height.  Quinn is in the 62nd percentile for weight and 79th for height.  Those boys are GROWING.  Fast.

Political Dreams

Colby: "Mom, when I grow up, I want to be the government."
Mom: "You want to work for the government?"
Colby: "No.  I want to BE the government, and make all the rules."
Mom: "So, you want to collect the people's money, and then allocate it to roads, schools, parks and stuff?"
Colby: "NO.  I want to make all the rules. And take all the money.  I don't want to give it back to the people."
Mom: "So, you want to be a tyrant."
Colby: "Yes.  I want to be a tyrant." 


Colby: "Mom, if I made all the rules, I would make everything free."
Mom: "So, you'll be a communist?"
Colby: "Well, I would just make nothing cost.  There would be no money. Everything in the stores would be free."
Mom: "So, how would you make sure that everyone got what they need?"
Colby: "They would just trade for it."
Mom: "Ahhhh.  A trade and barter system.  What if you had something that someone wanted, but they didn't have something you wanted?"
Colby: "Well, they could give me a little piece of gold then."
Mom: "THAT'S money."

In the course of one car ride, we went through the entire history of commerce, from hunter/gatherer to barter/trade, to gold standard, to paper money worth... well, essentially nothing.  MAN, I've got to be up to speed on any subject at a moments notice with these kids.

And it's nice to know that Colby's an aspiring tyrant.  Makes a mother proud.

Conversations on a Lake

We're getting spoiled by all these fabulous summer days.  This evening, we went out to dinner by boat with Rob's parents, and it was gorgeous.  The boys wanted to stop to swim on the way home, but Colby was sans swimsuit.  Didn't matter, really.  He stripped down to his Cars underwear, and jumped in anways.

Colby: "Mom, why don't you swim, too?"
Mom: "I would love to, buddy, but I don't have a swim suit."
Colby: "Just go in your underwear, like me!"
Mom: "That would be ugly. No one would want to see that."
Colby: "It's okay if your underwear is ugly, Mom."

Bless his little heart for thinking that I was talking about my UNDERWEAR.  No, son.  The underwear is pretty.  What's underneath??? Well..... not so good ;).

Questions and Realizations

The topic of conversation broached at bedtime tonight: rib cages.

Colby: "Mom, do all animals only have one rib cage?"
Mom: "Uh, yeah.  I think so."
Quinn: "And people, too?"
Mom: "Yes.  Unless, I guess, you're a Siamese twin."
Quinn and Colby: "WHAT'S a Siamese twin????"
Mom: "When two people are hooked together.  There might be two heads, two rib cages, but only two legs that they share.  Something like that."
Quinn: "That wouldn't be very fun."
Mom: "Well, sometimes doctors can do surgery to separate them."
Colby: "They cut their LEGS OFF?!?!  That would hurt!!!"
Quinn: "I was just thinking the same thing! "
Colby: "They use a knife?!??!?!"
Quinn: "How do people get stuck together?"
Mom: "Well, this is the crazy part.  They started out really really small in their mommy's belly as ONE PERSON, and they just didn't split all the way apart."

And that's when it hit me.  Quinn and Colby used to be ONE PERSON.  They are so different now, such distinct souls, that I never really stopped to think about that before.   I mean - I know the biology of identical twins, but when I stopped to think of my two wholly separate boys being ONE --- that kind of blew my mind.  I remember reading that when identical twins are dichorionic and monoamniotic, as mine were (sharing a placenta), it means that the original blastocyst split somewhat later than those with two placentas.  So, for anywhere between 4 to 8 days after conception, I had one baby.  I had a "Quinby".  And then there were two.  It's still blowing my mind, a full 2 hours later.  Eight days of being ONE.  Craziness.

No WONDER those boys are stuck like glue to each other.  Holy cow!

It's also making me wonder about Reagan, who was also an identical twin for the first 9 weeks of her existence.  She's one person, but for a few days, she was MORE of one person.  Not that she's half of one person now, but... just... okay.  I'm thinking too much about this.

How'd this subject evolve from a discussion on rib cages?

Called On the Carpet

My kids called me out on the "living love" thing today, which is funny, because I was just talking to my sister about this very topic.  See, the single purpose of today was to clean the boys' bedroom.  There was not another  task on the agenda for the entire day for two short men.  The boys were in their room from 10 am til 5:30 pm, leaving only for lunch, and the room STILL did not get clean.  GRRRRRRR.  As I tucked them in tonight, I have to admit that I was more than a little gruff.  I told them that I didn't want to see their faces tomorrow until that room was spotless.   There would be no breakfast until it was finally CLEAN.

Colby looked at me and said "Mom, do you even love us?"

Mom:  "Of course, I do, Colby."

Quinn: "Well, you're sure not acting like it right now."

Mom (speechless)

UGH. SHEESH. Mom the SCHMUCK. 

I sometimes forget to see myself through little eyes.  The view is not always pretty.  I really needed that call on the carpet. 

I immediately softened my tone, and switched tactics.  After prayers, tuck-ins and kisses,  I promised ice cream for breakfast if I see a clean room before noon.  The yelling and threatening obviously failed miserably for the length of an entire business day.  We'll see what a little soft tone and positive reinforcement does.  At the very least it will make me feel less Mommy-Dearest.

Keeping Score

Pouring Colby a glass of juice at lunch time, I got distracted, and the juice spilled over.

Mom: "Watch it, buddy.  I filled it really full.  See, it spilled on the table."
Colby: "WOW.  That's the 10th time Mom's ever made a mistake."

:)

Ever???  I'm doing pretty dang good, aren't I?

The Worst Day of His Life

If you've read yesterday's entry on our family blog, you heard that by making the boys come inside last night, I instigated the WORST day of Quinn's life.  I kind of chuckled about it at the time, but he persisted today in saying how terrible yesterday was, and not just because I wouldn't let them sleep outside on the swing.  There were, apparently, two other horrific occurences that made yesterday worthy of being deemed the WORST.   That bothered me.  WHAT happened?!?!?!  What was so awful???  Quinn wasn't saying.  He just hinted, and sulked, and moped. 

Mom: "Buddy, you can tell me anything, you know that right?  What was so bad yesterday?"
Quinn: "Nothing.  I don't want to say."
Mom: "Did somebody yell at you?"
Quinn: "No.  Well, you did, when you told us to come inside.  But that wasn't the only reason."
Mom: "What else?  Did something happen at church?  Did you feel bad for hurting your sister?  Did you get in a fight with Colby?"
Quinn: "NO.  I don't want to tell you."
Dad: "Take it from me, Quinn.  She will NOT let up until you tell her what's wrong."
Quinn: "Fine.  It was when Grandma and Grandpa were here for dinner."
Mom: "What?  I don't remember anything bad happening."
Quinn: "I wanted an orange popscicle, and you made me take the grape one.  I didn't WANT the grape one."
Mom and Dad: "HA HA HA HA.  REALLY?!?"
Quinn: "I knew that's how you'd act.  That's why I didn't want to tell you."
Mom (trying to keep a straight face): "OK.  I'm sorry I FORCED a grape popsicle on you.  That is what made it the worst day of your entire LIFE?"
Quinn: "Well, there was one more thing, too.  I just can't remember it right now."
Good Grief. 
Quinn: "I guess it wasn't the absolute worst day.  I've had worse.  But it was pretty bad."

And again, I say.... it will get worse, my son.  I guarantee it.

Stealth Photos

I have to sneak up on the boys to take pictures these days. And I can't seem to keep clothes on them.  None of them.  It drives me crazy, but I can either spend every waking moment hounding them, or let it go and choose my battles.  At least it means less laundry for me, right??? 

Mommy Colby Time

It's those small, everyday moments that I know are going to fade into vague inklings as the kids get older.  But they are precious, and while they're happening, I always want to burn them in to my memory, because I know how quickly they're forgotten, since it wasn't an event,  or an exciting location, or wasn't some big deal.  That's why this blog is a blessing to me.  It allows me to capture and hold these cherished gems securely to my chest, to take out and smile at in days to come.  I don't want them to disappear and be forgotten.  I want them to STAY with me, even though the children  who created them will grow and change and someday be gone.

Colby woke up early.  Mommy woke up early.  The sun was shining, it was a gorgeous morning.  So we got dressed and went for a walk, just the two of us.  That's it.  Just Colby and Mom, walking down the road, talking about how much the sunrise looks like the sunset, and admiring the gorgeous flowers, and picking a bouquet for the table.  And Colby laughing about how Dad and Quinn were going to be so surprised to wake up and find us not there in the house like we usually were.  Colby picking a daisy for my hair, and a buttercup to put behind his own ear.  Colby holding my hand as we walked - I don't know how much longer he'll want to hold my hand, the big seven year old boy.  But for now, in the quiet of the morning, while no one else is around... it's okay.  And me marvelling around at all the different types of wildflowers, and Colby being impressed at God's creativity. 

Nothing big.  Nothing eventful.  Just a sweet, fluttery moment that will wisp away like a butterfly in the wind, unless I write it down to anchor it here. 

Some moments are like a prayer, I think.  Living a prayer.

Things That Make the Boys Go EWWWWWW

Last night at dinner -
Quinn, Colby and Reagan: "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!  SCREECH!  HEE HEE!  BURP! WAAAAHHHHHHHH"  You get the picture.  General chaos, with tantrums and fighting mixed in for good measure.

Mom: "I think Daddy and I need a DATE.  Just the two of us.  With NO KIDS."
Dad: "Maybe even a long date.  Like a TRIP!"
Colby: "EWWWW!  GROSS!"
Mom: "Gross?  Why is a date gross?"
Colby: "Because all you do is kiss around and stuff, and fall in love!"
Dad: "Believe it or not, Mom and I used to kiss all the time.  And go on dates."
Quinn: "NUH-UNH!"
Dad: "Yes we did."
Mom: "Like this, see!" (Stands up and gives Dad a big ol' smooch)
Quinn and Colby: "EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW."
Mom: "Dad, let's take a BIG date and go to Europe!!"
Colby and Quinn: "YEAH!  I want to go to Europe!"
Dad: "No - just Mom and I.  That's what a date is. No kids."


Later, long after the boys were supposed to be asleep in bed, as Rob and I were in the basement working out, Quinn slinked down the stairs, a book about castles in hand.

Mom: "Why are you not in bed?"
Quinn: "I have to tell you something.  There are over 3000 castles in Europe.  I'm going with you."

I WISH we were really going to Europe.  I really really do.  I have a sneaking suspicion that Mom and Dad's big date just might be  watching TV together after the kids are in bed.

Things I Don't Want to Explain

The whole conversation started on our way to Vacation Bible School, when we saw a Mama and baby deer.  Quinn asked why some people hunt deer.

Mom: "Some people eat them."
Quinn: "They DO? Why?"
Mom: "They think deer meat tastes good."
Colby: "Like pigs."
Quinn: "And cows.  And turkeys. And chickens."
Mom: "Yup."
Colby: "But first they have to cut the chicken open to get the eggs out, before we eat them."
Mom: "No.  There are laying hens that lay eggs.  And then there are eating hens"
Colby: "Well, then, how does the egg get out of the chicken, if it isn't cut out?"

In my head I said "they kinda poop them out", but I didn't want to go there with my boys.  They'd never eat an egg again.  I didn't answer the question, and luckily, they had a different question right afterwards, and forgot the first.

Quinn: "If a chicken sits on an egg long enough, a baby chick will hatch out of it."
Colby: "So, we're eating baby chickens when we eat eggs?"
Mom: "No.  There's only a baby chicken in it if there's a rooster around.  Otherwise, it's just a plain ol' egg."
Quinn: "What does the rooster have to do with it?"
Mom: "Well, if there's a mommy and a daddy, then the baby chick will be born."
Quinn: "I don't get it.  How does the egg know if there's a dad around?"
Mom: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Well..........  uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh........  the baby chick is a little bit of the mommy and a little bit of the daddy.  So the daddy has to leave a little bit of himself in the egg, and then the chick is born."  I was kind of proud of this vague but accurate answer.  But the stinker would NOT let it go.
Quinn: "So, what part of the daddy does he leave behind????"
Mom: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"
Quinn (relieving me of a very uncomfortable moment): "I KNOW!!  He takes one of his feathers and tickles the egg with it, and it turns into a chick!!!"
Colby: "HEEE HEEE HEEE"

I let it lie.  I'm not mentally prepared to refute that at this point.

Reagan: "Mommy. Daddy.  Egg.  Chicken."  Oh great.  Even the two year old is learning the birds and the bees.

Quinn: "How'd we get on all this chicken talk anyway???"
Mom: "I DON'T KNOW!"
Quinn: "I think Colby started it!"
Mom: "Yup.  Colby, I think you did."

Listening Skills

I've started reading the kids "The Last Unicorn" by Peter Beagle.  They like chapter books, but prefer a few illustrations now and then, and this book doesn't have any.  Instead of sitting quietly on the bed during story time, they were  jumping from bed to bed, throwing stuffed animals, climbing on their desk, teasing their sister.

Mom: "That's it, boys.   I'm done.  If you're not going to listen, I'm not going to read."
Quinn: "We WERE listening!!"
Mom: "No you weren't.  You were jumping around, goofing off!"
Colby: "We were listening, Mom.  Ask us anything."
Mom: "Allright.  What's the name of the carnival?"
Colby: "Mommy Fortuna's!  Creatures of the night brought to light!"
Mom: "OK.  Lucky guess.  What's the name of the magician?"
Quinn: "Schmen....Schnen... something."
Mom: "Schmendrick. Fine.  Well, what's the last thing I read?"
Colby: "A dragon has the insides of a furnace, but the outside is ice cold!"

HUH.  Those turkeys.  How could they possibly be listening so closely, when they're shrieking and bouncing off the walls??  It gives me hope that they're retaining something when they're at school, despite the frequent reports of squiggliness!!!

The Neverending Room Clean Up

The boys have been up in their room for the past three and a half hours, ostensibly "cleaning it".  I went up there to check just a few minutes ago, and it was still a pig sty. 

Mom: "BOYS!  It's still filthy in here!"
Q&C: "No it's not!  It's clean!"
Mom: "There's books, toys and dirty clothes all over the floor, and your beds aren't made!"
Q&C: "It looks clean to us!  We're not babies, you know."
Mom: "I assure you, it is NOT clean.  Clean means that I can see the floor.  If you would like to go to the Strawberry Festival Parade on Saturday, you had better get this room clean TODAY.  Otherwise, you will spend your birthday cleaning your room."
Colby: "Who cares, Mom.  There's hardly any candy at the Strawberry Festival Parade anyways!"
Quinn: "And if we don't have a birthday party, we'll not turn seven, and stay six another year!"
Mom: "That can be arranged.  And you need to stop being sassy, and get to cleaning your room.  I am sick and tired of the sassiness."
Colby: "We're only sassy on Thursdays.  It's our new thing.  Sassy Thursdays."
Quinn: "If I roll my eyes at you, will that make you sick, too?"

It took every ounce of my being not to laugh at their sassiness.  I have to admit, those are some pretty good comebacks.  But if I give an inch, they will NEVER clean their rooms.  And backtalk cannot be tolerated.  I am in so much trouble.  If it's this bad at seven, what will it be like at seventeen????  I shudder at the thought.

Questions in the Car

OK.  I've updated this blog alot today, but all of my boys were on a roll, so I've got to document, document document.

On the way to last night's movie, the boys asked this question:
Quinn: "Mom, what happens when you burp and sneeze at the same time?"
Mom: "Your eyes pop out."
Colby: "NO THEY DON'T"
Mom: "Well, if you already know the answer, why'd you ask the question?"
Quinn: "Do they really?"
Mom: "Well, if you burp and sneeze with your eyes OPEN they will."
Colby: "Nu-UNH".
Mom: "Have you ever sneezed with your eyes open?"
Quinn: "No".
Colby: "Dallace and Dallan at school can sneeze with their eyes open."   Sure they can.  They can do anything.
Mom: "I seriously doubt that they can do that.  If they did, their eyes would pop out of their heads."
Quinn: "Then what happens when you cough and burp at the same time?"
Mom: "UH, probably one first and then the other would happen.  Not at the same time."
Quinn: "What happens if you talk and burp at the same time?"
Mom: "OOOOH.  Daddy can do that.  Ask him to show you." (or not.  Maybe I don't want them learning that trick.)
Colby: "I bet I can burp and fart at the same time."

I have absolutely not the slightest doubt in the world that you totally could, my boy.  Not the slightest doubt.

Movies with Boys

Last night, I took Quinn and Colby to a movie theater for a free showing of "Raiders of the Lost Ark".   Great movie.... which took LOTS of explaining to little boys.  It was a constant barrage of questions thorughout the whole.thing.  I was a shushing maniac, for two straight hours, because my boys are incapable of whispering.  Therefore... loud questions every 30 seconds or so  (even spaced that long apart?  No, I guess not). 

"Mom, why's he named Indiana Jones?  Which one is Indiana Jones?  Is that a cobra or an asp?  Why are they shooting poison darts at him? Why's there a big rock coming after him?  What's that golden thing?  Will God really tear you apart if you open the ark?  Where are the 10 commandments?  Why's there a spider looking thing on that red flag?  Why do the Nazi's want the ark?"...... on and on and on.  A virtual play by play, asking questions about every last thing on screen.  And I was in the middle.  So a boy on one side would ask a loud question, I would whisper the answer in his ear, then the boy on the other side would ask the same question.  The guy in front of us acctually turned around and said "Why bother shushing them at this point? "  I suppose that was just as annoying as the questions themselves. 

I was worried the movie would be a little too scary, and I was right.   Colby didn't even pretend to go to bed before he ended up with me in my bed.  I tucked him in, came downstairs, and within 30 seconds he was sitting crosslegged outside my bedroom door. 

"Crawl on in, buddy.  It's okay. "
"It wasn't all THAT scary, Mom, except the last part where everybody melted."
"You know it's make believe, right?  It's not true?"
"Yeah."  And then he fell immediately asleep, my arm firmly wrapped around him, his head on my shoulder. 

Another Big Boy Story

I realize that my hubby is no "offspring", but there are times when I just have to toss him in with the whole "funny things the boys in my life say and do" category.  Yesterday, for example.  He came home from work, and I immediately noticed that his pants were FULL of holes.  Not just on the knees.  The entire front.  Riddled with holes - maybe 30 of them.  His underwear could plainly be seen. 

Me: "WHAT happened to your pants????"

Rob: "Yeah.  Tell me about that.  I had a meeting with my BOSS today, and I'm looking like this."

Me: "What HAPPENED?!?!"

Rob: "Your daughter must've taken a pair of scissors to them, and I didn't notice until I got to work.  I told my boss that I wasn't REALLY trying to be a rock star".

Me: "Really?  You think it was Reagan?  Because I think I would have noticed if she had scissors around the laundry.  And that's alot of holes!"  Inside I was thinking 'you got dressed before you had your coffee, obviously.  How could you not notice that?'

I must admit that I chuckled to myself all night about the pants.  How I WISH I had a camera on me.  Later that night, I brought it up again. 

Me: "You know, it almost looks like a chemical spill.  Were you around chemicals at all during work today?"

Rob: "OOOOOOOOOOOOH.  You know what?  I was wearing these pants yesterday when I was carrying around a tractor battery."

THAT makes more sense.  And the true culprit is.....battery acid.  Splashed unknowingly all over him, eating holes in his pants.  Thank goodness it was just the pants and not HIS SKIN!  Sheesh!!  That could've been ugly!

The Most Annoying Sound In The World

Children up at 6:30 this morning.  All three promptly decide to hold a screaming contest.  On purpose.  To see who can scream the loudest.  Fun times. Fun times. 

I'm the guy in the middle, in this video.

Emotion

At dinner last night:

Colby: "What kind of critter do secret agents like best?"
Mom: "I know.  A spy-der."
Colby: "YES!"
Quinn (sounding JUST like Beavis and Butthead): "heh heh heh"

I laughed out loud at Quinn's laugh, because it was just so PHONY, and he didn't even realize it was.

Colby: "Mom, that's the first time I've ever heard you laugh for real!"
Mom: "Really?  I laugh all the time."
Colby: "But not for REAL."
And then both boys started laughing uncontrollably, like they do, over nothing.  And I realized it was true.... I don't laugh like that.  At least, not alot.  And not around them.  When did I stop laughing for real????  When did I become a grown up??  I'm always the straight-man in the "Quinn and Colby" show.  The one to tell them to quiet down, and use good manners, and get their hands out of their pants,and stop picking their nose.  They never get to see me having fun.  And that bothers me.

Colby: "It's okay, Mom.  I've never seen you cry for real, either."
Mom: "Really?"
Colby: "Nope."

So interesting to me, their perceptions. I never thought about that.  I save my emotion for after they're in bed, when I'm unloading to their father (lucky guy).  Like there's some unspoken rule that a parent needs to be STRONG and CONTROLLED around their kids (well, they've seen me angry lots and lots of times, I guess).  I need to let them know how much JOY they bring me.  And to share in the silliness that seems to be their world on a daily basis.  I'm always so busy trying to UN-silly them, maybe it's okay to join in.  Just every once in a while.

Because they really should know that their mom can laugh.

Gross Breakfast Conversations

Bodily functions and little boys.  WHAT is with that???  Seriously.  Annoying. 

Quinn: "Colby, who's the world's best burper?"
Colby: "I know!  Grandpa!"
Quinn: "No.  He's the Famous Farter."
Mom: "Boys, that's not nice.  You need to stop this."
Colby: "No, it's true, Mom.  Grandpa farts and then always says it's one of us!"
Quinn: (with obvious awe in his voice - as if this was the greatest talent known to man) "Grandpa's the best farter ever."
Colby: "Dad's the best burper ever."
Quinn: "Burp.  Excuse me.  Burp.  Excuse me.  Burp.  Excuse me."
Colby: "You only have to say 'excuse me' once."
Quinn: "No.  I'm just trying to be annoying."
Mom: "Well, you're doing a really good job."

((((SIGH))))).

And I apologize to grandpa for sharing this story online.  I'm going to hear about this, I have no doubt!!!

First Piano Lessons

I had tried to teach the boys piano this past school year.  It was fun, but they struggled GREATLY to listen to their mother.  So, today, we brought in the professionals.  My boys are officially piano students.  I told them that if they both stuck with piano for 4 years, they would be able to continue on with whatever musical instrument they chose.  Quinn has already chosen the mandolin.  Very practical choice, Quinn.  Mandolins are in high demand, and march very well in parades and at football games.  Colby hasn't yet decided, but then... he has four years to ponder.  He was leaning towards the banjo earlier today, because, as he put it, it's a "drum AND a guitar".  Okay then.

I overheard Quinn during his lesson say over and over again "I already KNOW how to play the piano."  His teacher was extremely patient, and would just say "Okay, but then let's just review.  What are the numbers of the fingers of the right hand?"  Which of course he couldn't answer, because he never listened to his mother back when she was trying to teach him the piano.  UGH.  Great.  At one point, the teacher stuck her head out of the room, and asked me how much trouble she would be in if she gave the boys different things to practice.  Because Colby had apparently remembered a little more than Quinn had, despite Quinn's overconfidence ;).  Fine by me. 

I'm excited that the boys will get some one on one time with an adult.  I'm excited that they're beginning their musical careers.  I'm excited that they'll be working on those little hand muscles for fine motor skills and hand/eye coordination.  It's all good.  It's all good!

Bless you, My Son.

I put a band-aid on Quinn's torn up toe this morning, and he said "Oh, look! Now my toe looks like a girl!"  I had put the band-aid over the top of his toe, so it did kind of look like a veil.

Quinn: "It's like my toe's an olden day girl.  They used to call them 'women' back then in the olden days."
Mom: "No.  A girl's a child, and a woman is an adult."
Quinn: "So, you're a WOMAN?"
Mom: "Yup".
Quinn: "No you're not.  You're a girl."
Mom: "Well, I'm an adult."
Quinn: "No you're not.  You're just a big kid.  At school, everyone says that people in their 30's are old, but I said NO!  My mom is in her 30's and she's not old!"
Mom:  "You keep saying that, Quinn, and I just might believe it."

Darling, adorable child.

This Morning's Conversation

Quinn: "Mom, why do we thank God for our food, when you're the one who made it?"
Mom: "Well, who gave us the hands to make this food?"
Colby: "You did!  We came from your belly, so you made us!"
Mom: "Well, who put you in my belly?"
Quinn (simultaneously with his brother): "God"    Colby: "A little penis".
Mom: "WHAT??? Colby, where'd you hear that?"
Colby: "From you, Mom!"

I am 1000% certain that I have not given "the talk" to my 6 year old boys.  POSITIVE.

Colby: "Remember, Mom?  You said that when we were in your belly, we were just little peanuts."
Mom: "OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.  Peanuts.  Yes.  Yes.  You were a little peanuT."

I can breathe again now.

AND..... again with a big boy story

Rob makes me laugh just as much as his sons do.  Lastnight we were lyiing in bed watching a show about the military.  This was the conversation.

Rob: "I think I would've been good in the military".
Me: "I think not so much.  You don't like to be told what to do, and you like being by yourself."
Rob: "I can be told what to do, if I believe in the cause!"
Me: "In the military, you have to do what you're told, whether you believe in the cause or not.  Or whether you think an order makes sense or not."
Rob: "And you don't have to be a 'team player' to be in the military.  Look at Rambo!"
Me: "Well, Rambo was EX-military.  And....uhhhhh...... fictious."
Rob (letting that sink in for a moment): "Well, I'd have been a good fighter pilot."
Me: "Yes.  Yes you would."

Everyone secretly wants to be Tom Cruise in Top Gun, I think.

Birthday Prep

The boys' birthday is coming up.  Well, in a month.  Which means it's high time to start the preparations, you know.  Quinn and Colby spent hours (and I mean HOURS) looking at cakecentral.com's gallery trying to pick out cakes and a theme.  After Colby picked  Transformers and Quinn picked out a lizard, I applied a little pressure to see if we could get a theme that blended a little bit better.  Quinn switched to dolphins, which wasn't much better.  Colby suggested putting Transformers swimming in the water of a dolphin cake.  UHHHHHHHHHHHH, I appreciated the effort, but didn't think so.  It would be REALLY nice if I could make one cake rather than two, so we aren't eating cake for three years after the big day.  No matter how much I tried to convince them, though, they were adamant about wanting their own cakes.  OKAY.  Fine.  Two cakes, but one THEME.  Quinn was pretty stuck on dolphins, so Colby caved and went pirates.  THAT I can do.  So, the plan at this point is to take a sheet cake and cut it in half.  Quinn's half will be decorated as water, with jumping dolphins, and Colby's will be the island with a treasure chest.  The boys want a pirate ship on Quinn's cake with a gangplank that bridges over to Colby's cake.  Hmmmm.  That may be tough, but we'll see what I can do.  Good thing we're starting early with all of this!

Money for the Poor

I heard the boys cackling outside my room, saying "money money money!!  I'm rich!  I'm rich!"  Oh no.   That didn't sound good. Then, to my surprise, they came jumping on to my bed and said the following:

Quinn (showing me his burgeoning wallet): "Mom, I want to give this money to the poor."
Mom: "What?"
Quinn: "To the poor.  Because they don't have any money.  Where can I find the poor?"
Mom: "Where'd you get that money?"
Quinn: "From the money bag, after our Easter egg hunt."
Mom: "OHHHH.  And you want to give it away?"
Quinn: "Mom, the poor don't HAVE any money."
Mom: "You're right."
Colby: "I want to go to Walmart and spend my money on Beyblades and candy.  Can we go to Walmart?"
Mom: "So, Quinn's going to give his money to the poor, and you're going to buy candy?"
Colby: "Well, if I have any left over, I'll give the rest of it to the poor."
Mom: "Let's do this.  The food bank gives food to people who can't afford to buy any.  Let's go there this morning, and you can give your money to them.  And we'll clean out some food from the pantry and give them that as well."
Colby: "Well, maybe I'll give $3 to the poor.  Or maybe I'll give them $8. "
Quinn: "I'm giving all of mine to the poor."

I didn't say a word, but Colby was slowly convincing himself to give more to the food bank, and spend less on candy at Walmart.  We'll see what he finally ends up doing when we get there.

That was NOT the conversation I anticipated on having when I heard them gloating over their riches a few minutes before.
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ADDENDUM:  Giving money to the poor is apparently easier said than done.  I think Quinn envisioned going up to a ragged person on a street corner somewhere and handing them his bag of pennies.  When that wasn't an option here (our winters pretty much keep the streets free from beggars), we opted for the above-mentioned Food Bank.  It was closed.  Not only closed, but all three entry ways to it's parking lot were physically blocked off.   So we couldn't even get CLOSE TO THE BUILDING.  Craziness.  Plan B was Goodwill, where I dropped off a bag of clothes, and the food that we had gathered for the food pantry.  Quinn debated back and forth as to whether he wanted to give Goodwill his money or not, after I explained that they SOLD THINGS.  I was quick to assure him that they also gave people jobs, and provided low-priced used goods for people without a lot of money, so he would still be helping the poor.  But he instead elected to put his money in the "poor box" at church.  OK.  So we headed over to the church, plunked his money in one penny at a time, and it was such a long process, that he decided he'd had enough. He ended up putting in maybe half of his money. We lit a candle, and said a quick prayer of thanksgiving for our blessings.  Colby donated not one red cent, saying that he was saving his money for a Ninentendo DS.

See, this is where being a parent is tricky, because then the boys talked me into going to the Dollar store, where Colby had LOTS of money to spend, and Quinn had only a dollar left, because he had given the rest to the poor.  Colby bought two fun toys and some candy, and Quinn bought a crossword puzzle book for a buck - and then started crying because Colby had more than him.  I certainly didn't want to reward Colby for his LACK of unselfishness, and punish Quinn for his good deed.  But I also wanted Quinn to realize that when he gives something away, it means he doesn't get something himself, and that's the POINT.  Not that there is an endless supply of everything, and that he can give away and still have plenty for himself.  I wanted him to know that the POINT was denying himself the extra toy, so that someone else could have something.  UGH.  How do I handle this situation???

In the end, the best I could come up with was to make it clear that "Colby's" toys were actually "communal family" toys that he would share with his brother.  They both seemed fine with that solution, so that's what we stuck with.  The whole Dollar Store thing pretty much ruined the good vibe from the donation, and I wish I wouldn't have caved on that point.  We should have made the donation, and then been done.  Let the good deed stand for what it was - an act of kindness from a sincere little boys' heart. 

Trash Talk

Taught the boys two new games yesterday - tetherball and checkers.  My boys are competitive young things, and it was SO FUNNY to hear them "trash talking" each other.

Quinn: "Oh no you don't!"
Colby: "Take that!"
Quinn: "I see what you're doing"
Colby: "I gotcha.  I gotcha."
Quinn: "My bad.  My bad."
Colby: "You think you can do that to ME?"\
Quinn: "UGH!  I'm so dumb!  Why'd I do that?"
Colby: "Watch out!  Here I come!"

I can't remember most of them.   But it made me laugh.

The Enemy

Colby: "Watch out Quinn.  Mom's in a BAD MOOD."
Mom: "No I'm not!"
Quinn: "Well, you're being really bossy."
Mom: "That's my job."
Colby: "hee hee he.  No it's not, Mom."
Mom: "Yes it is.  God gave you to me, and told me to boss you around, so that you'd grow up to be good, responsible men."
Quinn: "No He didn't".
Mom: "Yuh-huh."
Colby:  "No, Mom.  You're just acting German."
Quinn: "Yeah.  You're being German."
Mom: "German?  Are you calling me a Nazi?"
Q&C: "YEAH!"

I think that documentary Rob had the boys watch last night to commemorate the landing at Normandy sunk in.  A little too well.

Blood suckers

Quinn: "Mom, I know why tacitos...squaitos.... moquit..."
Mom: "mosquitos?"
Quinn: "YEAH.  That's hard to say.  I know why those like to bite me best."
Mom:  "Why?"
Quinn: "Because my head's the biggest, and it's full of lots of blood."
Mom: "AHHH.  I see."

Swear Words

Quinn: "Mom, I know ALL of the swear words now, but I'm not going to say them."

Great.

Colby: "But 'swear' isn't a bad word.  It means promise, and promise is a good word."

Mom: "Yup".

Quinn: "Mom, these are all the good words.  Nice, kind, true, promise."

Mom: "And honor, integrity, and courage."

Colby: "What do THOSE mean?"

Mom:  "It means that you do what it is right, what is good, and are brave about doing it."

Quinn: "Oh.  Like God.  He's very brave."

Mom: "Yup."

So, a conversation that started out making my stomach churn  turned out okay in the end.  And for the record, I know that they really don't know all the swear words, even if they think they do.  I've heard them.  The "F" word is "fart", and the "S" word is "stupid".  That's fine by mean.  I'll take that for now. 

Summer Perspectives

Colby:  "Mom, how long until school starts again?"
Mom:  "June, July, and August.  Three months."
Colby:  "THREE MONTHS?  That's not long at all!"
Mom:  "I know it's going to go really fast."
Quinn: "Then why do you keep saying it's going to be a looooooonnnngg summer?"

It's all in your perspective, my boy.  All in your perspective.

Quinn and Colby Stories

Lately at bed time, mostly because we've been too busy to sit down and read an actual BOOK, I've been telling the boys "Quinn and Colby" stories.  These are stories that star the Dynamic Duo, and we've been telling them off and on since they were about 2 or so.  Anyways, this latest round has serial installments, and the boys are always quick to remind me where I left off the night before,  and what they expect to happen next.  Quinn and Colby had just returned to earth from planet Mom (where all the aliens nagged them to brush their teeth and clean their room), and were on a treasure hunt in the woods.  After finding the treasure (which involved Quinn's super powers as "The Human Suction Cup" and Colby's power of "The Human Bulldozer"), they, alas, found the chest locked.  But there were inscriptions on the side of the box, and that's when Storybook Quinn asked "I wonder how we open the treasure chest???"

The REAL Quinn was not pleased that his alter ego would ask such a question.

Quinn: "Mom, that's not what I would say.  I'M THE SMART ONE, because my head is bigger than Colby's."
Mom: "That's all it takes to be smart? A big head?"
Quinn: "YUP".
Colby: "Quinn, that's ridiculous.  I'M the smart one."

Hee Hee Hee.  Well, luckily, the inscriptions on the side of the chest were math facts and spelling words, so both boys got to prove exactly how smart they were, in order to find the secret code to open the treasure.  And I would have to say, that Colby was the smart one sometimes, and Quinn was the smart one other times.  Funny how that works.  Despite Quinn's big head ;).

Love Defined

On our recent trip out west, the boys were constantly teasing Grandma Betty "Miss me, Miss me, now you have to kiss me!"  And Grandma Betty would chase them, and happily oblige.  I asked the boys where they heard this from.  Were girls chasing them at school?

Quinn:  "No.  But Cameron and Sydney chase Dallan."
Me: "Why would they do that?"
Quinn: "Because they have a crush on him."
Me: "What does 'having a crush' mean?"
Colby: "It means they're in love."
Me: "What does being in love mean?"
Quinn: "Well, it means that when someone is chasing you, you really want them to catch you."

AHA.  Well-said young man.

Terms of Endearment

The Scenario:  Tucking the boys in last night.

Mom (kissing Colby):  "Good night Stinker Pot.  I love you."
Colby: "MOM!  That's not nice!"
Mom:  "Stinker Pot is a term of endearment!"
Mom (kissing Quinn): "Good night, Fluffer Doodle!"
Quinn: "Hee hee hee"
Colby: "OOOOOOOH!  I get it!!!  Calling a name means 'I love you!"
Mom: "Yeah!  That's right!"
Colby: "OK.  Good night Stupid Loser."

UHHH... Maybe not.

Dinner Conversation Down the Tubes

Quinn:  "Mom, I met a boy on the bus today who's dad went to jail, and he did nothing wrong."
Monica: "Are you sure about that?  They don't usually put people in jail for doing nothing."
Quinn: "He said that a girl said his dad shot her, but she just hates him."
Mom: "Uhhhhhh"
Dad (who was falsely accused at work today of dumping garbage in the MTU dumpster, by virtue of garbage bags in the back of his truck on Chassell garbage day, which he didn't really do, and there's a building Nazi who is after him and he DIDN'T DO IT, and he's going to bring in the receipts to prove it, he'll show HER!!!): "Remember, we are all innocent until proven guilty."
Mom: "OR, maybe we don't want you hanging around this kid."
Quinn: "It wasn't even HIS gun.  The boy has 8 guns, and only one gun is his dad's."
Mom: "Again, maybe we don't want you hanging around this kid."
Quinn: "This is the second time his dad's been in jail.  The first time he really did it, but this time he didn't."
Mom: "What was his dad in jail for the first time?"
Quinn: "Strangling up a girl".
Mom: "UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH". 
Dad: "Strangling up a girl?  What does that mean?"
Colby: "It means he strangled up a girl!"
Mom: "Maybe we don't want you hanging around this kid."
Dad:  "BURP".
Quinn and Colby:  "hee hee hee hee"
Dad: "That was an exclamation point burp".
Quinn: "BURP"
Colby: "BURP"
Reagan: "Screech!  Burp!"

Quinn, Colby, Reagan, and Daddy: "Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee"

Mom leaves the room, shaking her head at the complete loss of sanity.

The Loophole

The boys have been "wandering" during meals lately.  As in carrying their food and walking around the kitchen while eating.  Besides the lack of manners this shows, it increases the mess on the floor, which is the ULTIMATE SIN in my world.  I am only very questionably keeping up with housework as it is ((understatement -- I hear my husband smirking at that statement right now)).  Anyways.  I told both boys that they needed to eat their food at the kitchen table, and if they even stepped foot on the kitchen floor, snack time was OVER.  Then I turned my back and commenced doing dishes. 

Not two minutes later, I turn around to find Quinn standing on the dining room table, a full room away, munching on a hard-boiled egg.

Mom: "QUINN!  WHAT did I tell you about eating your food at the table??"
Quinn: "You said don't touch the kitchen floor, and I didn't!  I went from one stool to the next, and made it up here without touching the floor!"
Mom:  "That's not what I said."
Colby: "Yes it is.  I heard you."
Quinn: "You degreed it."
Mom: "What?"
Quinn:  "You degreed, I could eat as long as I didn't touch the kitchen floor."

I'm thinking he meant that I agreed that he could eat as long as his feet didn't touch the floor.  Either way, that's not what I MEANT.  C'mon.  Really?!?!?!

Merry Chrisma....er.... Easter?

Colby woke up bright and early this Holy Saturday morning, looked out the window, and said

"MAN!  It's SNOWING AGAIN!"

Tell me about it, son.  Ridiculous.

Just Like Grandma's

Went all out and made the boys peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner after I got home from work.  Quinn loved his, and asked for a second.

Quinn: "Mom, is that Grandma Fran's jelly on my sandwich?"
Mom: "No, it's the blueberry jam I made last summer."
Quinn: "Well, it's so good, you must've used her recipe.  It tastes just like hers."

He doesn't know that this is the highest compliment he could possibly give me.  It literally brought tears to my eyes.

Homework Frustration

There's alot of "catch up" homework to do after getting home from our big trip.  It's been a struggle for all of us.  Today after school, I sat the boys down to do their math homework.  When I went back to check to see how it was going, there were still several blank answers, and the following sentence on the bottom of the page....
"I GIVE UP TECHR".

UGH.

Of Walmart and Wishbones

Took the boys to Walmart to grocery shop with me tonight.  I LOATHE grocery shopping with my boys.  It's one of my least-favorite times as a parent.  They were running around like the wild-men of Borneo, lying on the floor, hiding in the clothes racks, shouting to each other from different aisles.  Miserable.  I pretended not to be with them, donning a "who are these kids and why are they following me????" expression.  At one point, Quinn asked if we could buy a whole chicken.

Me: "No, I don't think we need a chicken."
Q: "Yes we do!  They have a wish bone!"
Me: "Yeah.  So."
Q: "You could make a wish!"
Me: "Uhhhhhhhh."
Q: "I know what you'd wish for."
Me: "You do?  What?"
Q: "For us to be good boys."
Me: "WOW.  You just read my mind.  That's amazing."
Q: "Mom, we're good boys sometimes."
Me: "Those times are very few and far between."
Q: "We're just having some fun!"  And then he runs away to play hide and seek in the the toilet paper and cleaning supplies.

SIGH.  It frustrates me that they KNOW they're being hooligans, and they really just don't care.  And nothing I say or do seems to make a hill of beans difference.  SIGH.

End Of My Rope

There was alot of driving yesterday, going up to the Volcano.  Alot of "cooped up in the car while it's pouring down rain" time.  Alot of screaming, fidgeting, not keeping hands to self time from the back seat.  I had had enough.

Mom: "BOYS!  Stop it right now!  I'm at the end of my rope!"
Colby: "End of your rope?  What does that mean?"
Mom: "It means I can't take anymore!"
Quinn: "What part of the rope do you normally hold on to?"

((sigh))  I guess I have to admit that I live my life at the end of my rope.

M'mmmmmmm Coffee

Robbie woke up this morning with one thing on his mind.... Kona Coffee.
Rob: "I have a new palatial favorite."
Me: "Huh?"
Rob: "A new palatial favorite.  Kona coffee.  It's a feast for the palatte."
Me: "Palatial?"
Rob: "I have to make up words to describe it."
Me: "Except that word is already made up and means something entirely different."
Rob: "Oh".

hee hee hee

Da Da Da's

When the boys were one year old , they would strip down to their diapers and run around screaming "Da Da Da".  I would register dread whenever I heard "Da Da Da" because it never meant anything good.  This was twin-speak for "running around like mad-men while naked or nearly naked".  Of all the twinspeak that the boys had (which persisted well into their 4th year), this one word persisted the longest.  It usually ended in some kind of carnage or destruction.  This morning, at six years old, Quinn showed up in underwear, and Colby said "Hey, Mom, Quinn is playing Da Da Da!"    I hadn't heard the 'word' for several years.  Sometimes I'm amazed at the things they remember.  The ONE thing I wish they'd forget!!!

The Mail

Colby just wrote a letter, put it outside in the mailbox, and raised the flag.  When he came back in, I asked him what that was all about.

Colby: "Oh, I'm just mailing a letter."
Mom: "To who?"
Colby: "Dallan from school."
Mom: "What did you write?"
Colby: "Since I won't see him, I told him to ask his mom to drive him to Chicago, and meet us on the plane going to Hawaii.  She might say yes, or she might say no.  I don't know."
Mom: "You invited him to Hawaii with us?"
Colby:  "Well, he wanted to go."

Yeah - his mom might say yes.  Sure.

The Man Upstairs

Rob was explaining to the boys this morning that our upcoming vacation does not involve an amusement park or water slide in any form.  That was blowing their minds a bit.... WHAT?!?! A vacation without an amusement park?  Doesn't that go against the very DEFINITION of vacation?!?!?!?!

Rob:  "This will be Nature's roller coaster.  We'll get to see and enjoy all kinds of natural stuff".
Quinn: "Oh, good.  So there's a roller coaster."
Rob: "No.  I meant that on this vacation, we'll be enjoying the exciting things that 'The Big Guy' made."
Quinn: "Who's the 'Big Guy'?"
Colby: "I know.  DAD!"
Rob: "No.  I mean 'The Man Upstairs'".
Colby:  "That's STILL you, Dad!  You live upstairs!"

Overhearing this conversation from the bathroom, I couldn't help but think two things....
#1 -  Idioms are lost on 6 year old boys
#2 - Rob's head was about to swell to the size of the "Big Island" we're planning to visit.

The Meaning of Names

Quinn:  "Mom, I know why they call that store Goodwill."
Mom: "Why's that?"
Quinn: "Because the stuff they sell is GOOD, and it WILL not fail you!"

AHHHHHH. ;)

Overheard

Colby:  "Reagan, you are my evil nemesis."

Wha-huh?  How does he know these words?

Growth Spurt

Took Colby to the doctor's this week, where he was weighed and measured.  46 pounds, and 48 inches.  The LAST time we measured him was February 19th, where he was 47.5" tall.  So he's gained 1/2 an inch in.... what.... 3 weeks?  YES.  It explains why he's been sleeping alot.  Why he's been eating alot.  And why his pants that I JUST BOUGHT are already high-waters.  I keep telling him to slow down, he's growing too fast (literally), but, as mentioned earlier, he gave up his mother for lent and doesn't listen to me anymore!!!  And Quinn....well..... he's copying his brother.  Bilateral growth spurt from my boys.  Colby's was just documented in the medical charts.

Star of The Week, Take 2!!

COLBY is this week's "Star of the Week" at school.  Good JOB, Colbyman!!  He came home so proud.  Made me smile.   He's a wiggler, our Colby, and struggles with sitting still -  so school is at times hard for him behavior wise.  Last week, though (silver lining) he was sick!!  Took those wiggles right out of him! Which led to good behavior, earning the above-mentioned "Star of the Week".  He told me today with awe in his voice... "I'm a GOOD BOY!"  Yes you are, buddy.  Yes you are. 

When filling out the questionnaire about himself, Colby was very thoughtful with each answer.  When it came to the question "Who do you most admire?"  Colby hesitated a moment, and then said "Well, Quinn said Jesus when he was Star of the Week.  So I'm going to give Dad a chance, because no one EVER says their Dad".  Hmmm.  Reportedly, most "Stars of the week" admire their mothers.  Not so with my boys.  Dad's going to be be pretty pumped with that answer. 

We're awfully proud of you, little man!  Keep up the good work!!

Big Boy

I got home from work at about 9 pm last night, to be greeted by a smirking husband.  That made me nervous.

Me: "Why are you smiling like that?"
Rob:  {{{smirk}}}
Me: "No, really.  Why?  It's freaking me out."
Rob: {{{ smirk }}}
Me: "WHAT???"
Rob: "Oh, if you only weren't so old."
Me: "Huh?"
Rob: "Our kids are perfect.  Even when we want to strangle them.  They're perfect, just as they are. Couldn't imagine them being any better.  And if you weren't so old, I just might want another one."
Me: "Ooooooh.  So you're smiling like that because you love your kids."
Rob:  "I didn't say the 'L' word".  (Editor's note... my husband is a Finn, and as such, morally opposed to overt displays of affection.  We LOVE him anyways).
Me: "It's okay to say it.  You love them, because they are loveable, and you're loving it."
Rob: "HRRRUMPH".

Curmudgeon.

Mackyarowd

Quinn got in trouble at school, and had to write an apology note to his teacher - a punishment of which I wholly approve.  This was the note that I found last night in his backpack:

"I am srrey for misspraving and trning on the coepaudr mackyarowd".  Rob and I can translate 6 year old boy fairly well, but were stumped on this one.  Luckily, his teacher sent an email to interpret for us....

"I am sorry for misbehaving and turning on the computer and monkeying around." 

Hee hee.  I mean... BAD BOY!

Heavy Sleep

At 6:49 am this morning...
Colby:  "Mom, I slept so long and now I feel heavy."
Mom:"That's how most of us feel in the morning, Colby.  You just normally DON'T!"

Normally, both boys shoot out of their bedrooms in the morning at a full run, instantly awake.  The half-asleep, heavy stupor thing is usually reserved for Rob and I :).

Addendum:  "Heavy" apparently means "sick".  OK.  So now I know.  HEAVY.

Lent

Ash Wednesday is quickly approaching, and the boys and I were discussing what they might give up for Lent.  Here are their suggestions:

Little boys think that they should give up:

• washing their hands
• time (then it's never bed time)
• 6:14 pm (inspired by the above suggestion of giving up ALL time)
• peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
• music
• our house (it's too old)
• the toys they don't play with
• Mom

I was really offended by that last one.  You really want to give ME up for Lent????  "Well, maybe not."  Gee, thanks.

I've decided that I will pick for them.

Chess

Heard a rumor at dinner last night that Colby ALSO almost won his father at chess.  He captured his Dad's Queen - a very important piece.  I think we need to watch out.  Mom and Dad are going to be consistently on the losing end of games in the very near future, if the boys are six and getting this close!

Parts

The boys have been very.... intrigued... by certain parts of my anatomy.  Curious.  During our nightly reading, one boy or the other will put a hand not-so-subtly on my chest.  When I move it, they are stunned.

Mom: "Quinn, you can't put your hand there.  It's private."
Quinn: "No it's not!  It's right there on your chest!  You can see it!"
Mom: "No.  You just don't put your hand on women's chests."
Quinn: "Why not?"
Colby: "I know!  It's because they make milk for babies!" (Colby and I had already had this discussion, when he had done the exact same thing to me a little while ago.
Quinn: "Do you even have ribs in there?"
Mom: "Uhhhhhh.... yeah."
Quinn: "WHERE?"
Mom:  "Underneath".
Quinn: "OOOOOOH.  I know.  Because God made Eve from one of Adam's ribs."
Mom: "Right.  So we women must have ribs, too."

((SIGH)).  When I talked to Rob about how best to handle this situation, he just said "I don't know, but you're on your own when it comes time to give 'the talk'."  WHAT???  Isn't that a Dad's job??? Coward!

Future Engineer

Quinn is exhibiting some really strong visual-spatial and strategic planning skills.  I know this, because I lose to him in games that I'm really TRYING not to.  My best adult efforts are no match for him in Blokus and CHESS.  Truly.  He is exceptionally good at both.   Not "good for a six year old boy" good.  He's just plain GOOD.  In my defense, I DID win at chess last night, but not before I lost a good chunk of my side of the board.  It was  a very close game.  He hasn't won Dad yet in chess, but he's come close.  Enough to make his Dad grumble under his breath.  Which is pretty dang impressive for a six year old.

Overheard

The boys celebrated their father's birthday by joining him at a waterpark last night.  That left Reagan and I to hold down the fort here.  I spent the time cleaning their bedroom and the guest room upstairs.  It took FOREVER.  Ridiculously long.  I got this response, though, when the men folk returned....

Colby: "OH WOW!  Quinn, come up here!  It's IMMACULATE!  It's all clean and shiny up here!" 

I didn't even know that he KNEW the word immaculate.  It's nice that my efforts were appreciated.  Let's hope they were appreciated enough that things stay clean for more than 30 minutes or so.  I have my serious doubts about that. 

Little Girls Love Their Brothers

IMG_4560
Originally uploaded by mamaaho

Reagan ADORES her big brothers.

One Of the Most Beautiful Things to come Out of My Son's Mouth

I was standing just a few feet away, when I heard Quinn ask his father this...

Quinn: "Dad, what's for breakfast?"

OHHHH, blessed boy!!!   I asked him to say it again.  And again.  And again.  No "Mom Mom Mom Mom I'm HUUUUNNNNGGGGRRRRYYY." 

It's a good day.