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

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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.

To Be Four Feet Tall

Rob is taking the boys to a water park next week.  The "big slide" has a height requirement of 48", and after measuring the boys today, it was determined that they are half an inch short.  Colby decided that this wasn't a problem - he would find a way to grow half an inch in 7 days.  Here's his solution.

Colby:  "Dad, I'm going to cover my mouth and blow really hard, and it will puff my head up".

Ah.  Like a balloon.  Good plan, Colby Man.  Good plan. 

Secret Letters

Found Quinn typing this message to his friend at school...

"You have a missdree to figr hoo am I . FINE THE NEXT CLUE . IT WILL BE SUMWAIR BY THE SLIDE. YOU WILL NEVR NO HOO AM I. AND FOLOE THE LINE ON THE GROWN.


THE NEXT CLUE WILL TACK ONE STEP. TO FIGRING HOO AM I. "


:)

Nighttime Prayers

Both boys, for some reason, are truly afraid of their bedroom.  They both have claimed adamantly that a "dark man" comes into the room sometimes at night to read their books on the bookshelf.  When I suggested that this might be Daddy coming in to give them a kiss goodnight, they said "Does Daddy walk through WALLS, Mom?!?!?!"  Ok.  Maybe not.  But this fear has been going on since they were able to talk.  Literally since they were about two or so.  It used to be that their stuffed kangaroo and Raggedy Ann and Andy came to life in the playroom.  Now it's a "dark man" reading their books.   No matter how hard I assure them that those sounds they hear at night are most likely the creaks and squeaks associated with a hundred year old house swaying in the wind, or squirrels and mice in the walls, they are not convinced.

The GOOD part of all this paranoia, though, is that both boys are ADAMANT about saying their night-time prayers.  If I forget, they are quick to remind me.  Quinn asks me... every night.... to say the Guardian Angel prayer and make the sign of the cross on his forehead, to protect him through the night.  Tonight, he told me a little secret.

"Mom, when you're at work and not here to put me to bed, I say the prayer myself, and make that Jesus thing on my head all by myself."

I don't know why this touched me so much, but it really did.  It may border on the superstitious, but it warms my heart to know that my boys rely on prayer to comfort them when they are scared.  That they "get it" at so young an age.  God bless you, little men.

Thoughts that Make Me Go "YIKES!"

Quinn has been very intrigued of late about ages, dying, and getting old.  He's been wondering how long he will live.  Don't know WHY this particular thing is rattling around his six year old brain, but... it is what it is.  I told him to assume 100 years, if he took care of himself, ate healthy, exercised regularly, and didn't smoke. Oh, that's right.  This all started because he was worried that the steak we were eating for dinner would cause heart disease.  I think he's safe, and told him so.  Anyways... he wanted to know how old the oldest person was, so I looked it up.  Jeanne Calment of France (1875–1997), who died at age 122 years, 164 days.  Just so y'all know.  Then he wanted to know the YEAR he would turn 100.  Cogwheels turning, and we came up with the number.  2104.  HOLY COW.  REALLY??!?!  Then he wanted to know if I was alive way back in 1997, when Jeanne Calment died.  YUP.  I was 25.  He was astounded that I wasn't even a KID way way back then.  So then he asked what year I was born, and I told him.  And what year would I turn 100?  Answer, 2072.  Wow.  (As a side note, I am listening to Pandora as I type this, and you would never guess what song just came on.  Five for Fighting's "100 years".  No way.  That's weird.  Anways, I digress. )  So then he wanted to know how old HE would be in 2072, and we calculated again... 68.  That's younger that Grandma and Grandpa Aho, but older than Grandma and Grandpa Patterson.  Then he wanted to know HOW a person dies... like what physically stops working.  And if the heart stops beating, how long it takes before you die.  And if the heart beats really really fast, can that make you die, too?  And how does a pacemaker get in a person's heart?  And does Grandma LaVerne 's pacemaker go right into her heart?  How does it attach INSIDE her heart without hurting her heart?  And what happens when the batteries die?  This again morphed into a conversation about the location of heaven, which I have yet to give a good answer on.  I deferred to Dad, who threw the question right back at me.  Thanks. 

At the end of this whole dialogue, he said simply "I wish Aunt Dorothy would've lived to 100.  I miss her".

HMMM.

I do, too, Quinn.... I do, too.