Waylon's Day

Even with a day off mid-week this week has been crazy.  I had a big long pity party type of post I was going to post about how much I'm dealing with right now and how it's got my brain all out of whack, etc.  But, really?  I've asked for all of this.  I prayed about and I've daydreamed about days I'm living right now.  Who doesn't have bad days, bad weeks, months, even years?  Yes, I'm having a rough week where everything seems to be hitting the fan, but you know what?  These are the days that fuel my drive even further.  These are the days where I reach down and see how much I am really made of and how much stronger I can be because of them.  I'm, again, thankful for these days.  They make me realize what really matters and WHO has my back and Who is with me always.

Dale and I don't usually get special days together with just 1-1 time with each of the boys.  We know how special they are though and I'm really thankful for school field trips that allow us those opportunities. 

Wednesday Dale and I took Waylon to the Aquarium with his preschool.  I was so excited for this trip.  If my life would have gone in another direction and Dale and I never would have met, I fully believe I would be doing something around the ocean this very moment. I am fascinated by the sea. Love every mysterious bit of it.  I think that is often why I dream about my emotions being symbolized by the seas.

Anyway, we had a great time...

He wouldn't touch them.  I just realized I never did and I so wanted to.

This might be my favorite picture ever.  Wonder and awe are great things.  Keep dreaming, Nayners and find a way to live them.

Reunited with sting rays.  I swam with them my senior year in college and I'll never forget it.  So stinkin cool!

The sharks were Waylon's absolute favorite.

He spontaneously plugged his nose.  Hilarious guy! 

After the aquarium we grabbed a bite to eat (yes, I was good) then it was off to the park, which was too windy for me.  Plus, I'll have enough obstacle coursing tomorrow at the Warrior Dash.  

I almost peed myself laughing so hard.  Dale flew down the slide and at the bottom all I could hear was a rush of water.  So funny!  He was a good sport about it. 

Muscles!

I treasure getting 1-1 time with them like this.  It is nice to see more of their personalities when they aren't distracted with someone stealing something from them or too busy wanting what someone else has.  There wasn't one whiny tone until we stepped into the door at home.  A great day!

Onto a great weekend with family time tonight, track for Dale in the morning, Grandparents for the boys, and the Warrior Dash for me until we all meet up again for movies and popcorn (not for me) to call it a night.  And catching up Sunday with a long (my longest ever) run, "Maggot" time, church and dinner with Grandma, finishing the day with nothing but sunshine, warm weather and slowing down!!!

Make it a great one!

Waylon's Day and Keepin It Real

Tuesday was a Waylon day.  When the boys have field trips and I haven't had a million snow days I like to take the day off of work and make it their day.  I enjoyed several of these days with Wyatt last year and now comes Waylon's turn. 

The lowdown:
We slept in. 
He came and cuddled with me in my bed and acted super sweet.
His little bro joined us (he now knows how to climb out of his crib)
We got dressed and waited for NaeNae (my mom).
A round of sausage biscuits and we were off to Wonderscope.
He loved it.
He laughed.
He played hard.
We were done.
We met up with my sister and my dad for lunch.
He loved it.
We laughed.
We had FUN.
Papa says, "you wanna come to work with me?"
He lit up.
He went to work.
He had fun.
Me and my mom had a girl's day.  I really can't remember the last time we did that spur of the moment kind of thing together.  Kinda special.  Shopping for all.
We all met at home.
We laughed.
We had fun.
We waited for Dale and the Sharp's had McDonald's for dinner.  A sure treat for the boys as we don't frequent the place.  Only stepped through those doors for a fundraiser for school. 
They laughed.
They played.
They had fun. 
It was chaos for me and Dale.  I left hungry!!
A pretty top of the books day for a 4 year old.

Keepin it real:
I think I've shared that we are having a few issues with Wyatt and his behavior.  Things have gotten a lot better.  He's not a bad kid.  He's a good, sweet kid, with a big heart. He's a kid, bottom line.  However, he is growing and there are obvious areas that we need to work harder on over others. 

I got an email from his teacher yesterday that made my heart sink because I thought we were on such a good path as of late. 

I was mad.  Not mad at the teacher.  I was mad at him.  We had been working hard on this and he messed up again.  I immediately went into thinking how I was going to punish him.  I wanted to spank him.  I wanted him to get the message another way that getting in trouble at school was unacceptable.  And again, I was wanting to make drastic changes to our routine to address the behavior. 

Thankfully I had an hour drive home.  In the middle of me trying to decide how many swats he was going to get as soon as we walked in the door I stopped.  Why would he say what he said?  What was going on around him?  What was the situation?  Why did he feel it was necessary for him to lose control? 
I had more questions than I had number of swats counted.  So, I told myself, maybe this wasn't the way to go.  I was going to ask him what happened.  Understand the situation and why he felt it was necessary to lash out. 

He wasn't going to get off the hook.  I was going to address the situation regardless, but I wanted to do it in a way where he would learn something more long term from it and not just, "mom's going to beat my ass if I screw up again".

Then something urged me to dig deeper.  Why is he acting like this?  What's the root of the problem.  We've changed his room.  He goes to bed on time.  He is awake by the time it is time to get up.  He has acted well rested, etc.

Self control

He is still learning this and we as parents are responsible for helping him along this journey while he tries to figure it all out.  Do I model good self control when I am stressed around them.  Truth be told - the majority of the time I do not.  Out of all the love and support I got last time around all of this I never felt the release that it isn't my fault.  Or that it can't be changed.  He is scarred for life.  This is how he will handle stress and it is my fault because that is what I model for him.

THAT'S NOT TRUE!
It can change. 
I can change.
He can change. 
IT'S NOT ALL MY FAULT. 

He is a kid and that is his job.  To learn this stuff and mess up and then learn some more.  How is he any different than anyother kid OR adult on this planet.  That is how it is for ALL of us. 
I finally felt that release and I have finally made it a priority to change how I handle stress at home. 
Turns out he lost his temper at school, but he stands firm on his story of not saying what he was accused of saying.  At this point I choose to believe him.  We will actively practice self control and I will do whatever it takes to make sure we don't look like psychos if someone decides to come peek through our windows!!! 

Last night was good practice.  He had 3 homework sheets to do because of his decision not to work on them earlier in the week.  I wouldn't let him off of the hook until he did an exercise staying calm the entire time.  It took him 6 tries, but he got the message.  Later that night he had one more sheet to finish up.  He sat right down.  We set goals:
1. To stay focused
2. To stay calm
3. To get the sheet done neatly and quickly

He met all 3 goals without needing to be reminded.  A big thing that seems to help with him is me telling him I will work on myself with him.  Last night I reminded him that I was staying calm and if I can stay calm so could he.  It also helps if I can explain, "Wyatt, I'm getting frustrated that you aren't staying focused." and list consequences of him not staying focused, such as play time is getting cut short, dinner is late, etc.  He doesn't just get the whole picture at his age.  He's not an expert at cause and effect just yet.  He has called me out on not keeping my patience as well and it has helped both of us. 

So, I chose NOT to yell.  I chose NOT to spank.  I chose NOT to judge him.  I chose NOT to just assume that he screwed up at school as bad as he was being accused.  I CHOSE TO listen to him.  I CHOSE to work on life skills through teaching instead of pain and fear.... and it worked.  (I'm not interested in going into a spanking vs not spanking debate.  Sometimes it works.)  I CHOSE NOT to rip everything out of his life that isn't the best influence.  This is usually the first thing I want to do, blame others or blame things for his actions.  He NEEDS life skills to be able to handle the things that he comes into contact with whether they are people or things.  He NEEDS to learn how to handle himself in ALL situations and his dad and I are responsible for modeling that for him. 

I CAN'T and I WON'T expect PERFECTION out of the little people that float in my footsteps just as I WON'T expect perfection out of myself.  We do our best and when we fail/fall/mess up/slip we try harder tomorrow. 

Now, with Weston getting out of his crib 3,474,984 times, I just might turn psycho anyway!

Me and the Multi-Superhero - Memories Captured

Your sleepy eyes rounded the corner to the bright kitchen.
Your voice not quite ready to talk.
Your blanket snuggled up close to your shirtless belly.

"Can we lay down in your bed together?"

I'd never lay myself back down in my bed with sweaty running clothes.
How could I resist your invitation?

You know what today is.

I had a shower to take and another little boy to get ready.

You handed me the covers as I laid my head next to yours.
We shared my pillow and talked while Wyatt and daddy got ready.
"I'm cold, mommy"
Your voice was so sweet.

We drifted off to sleep.  I don't think I've ever enjoyed a 6:30am nap.

"I had such a good dream.  I'm excited for today."
Our first official one on one day.

You joined your class up on the wall and didn't care that I was not right by your side.  You sat and smiled and were so polite.

Your words never as frequent as they are at home.

But your smile is always the same; full of life and then some.

You're shy but you're not.

You're comfortably quiet around girls and boys and teachers and bees.

You didn't complain when mommy needed her stuff done too. 

I had SUCH an awesome day with YOU!

I'm joining Galit and others in this awesome link-up.  Check her out.  She will leave you yearning to be a better mom.  Then check out the others and their greatness.

My Middle One

There are times when the firsts get taken by the first. All the excitement and joy and celebration seem to be heightened the first time around. The praise not as thick as it was for round one.

But you are here too. Full of firsts. Full of things that need to be praised.

Being a middle child myself I wanted to make sure you didn’t feel the middle child.

I worried when I was pregnant with you how I would love you as much as I love your brother. Then you came into my life and they laid you on my chest; sticky, red, and perfect. I took in your face and all that you were made of and sighed a huge sigh of relief that you were here and 100% healthy. You were an answer to our prayers and restored more joy into my heart than you will ever know.

Right then I knew there was no question. I don’t love you as much. I don’t love you the same. I love you for every single bit of human you are. Just you, for you. I love you different. I love you with a love that is full and can only be for you. I love you Waylon.

Your laugh is loud and unmistakable.

You make awesome faces.

And have a personality that I could never fully describe enough to do it justice.

The gun sounds you make with your mouth are perfect and adorable.

You are funny and shy and you talk a lot when you are comfortable.

You are so much like your dad it isn’t funny.

You are an amazing person, but you only show certain people all of what you are made of.

When I picture you in my mind I picture you running from me. Watching you run from the back is something that makes every single bit of me smile. Your run encompasses your personality to me. Silly, strong, arms swinging, fists tightened, shoulders to your ears, and knees barely lifting. You lower your head and run with force and always with a fierce expression.

I love your smile and the way you find things funny.

You always seem older to me than what you are.

You love your brothers just like brothers love. You are there to protect them but at the same time knock them out on your own account.

You are sensitive but strong.

You love babies and sometimes like to act like one.

You like sweets and and stealing my gum.

Old time country music as much as you like rock. 

You want to cuddle but you get hot easy.

You always have to have a kiss AND a hug when saying goodbye or goodnight.

You started school this week. Just two days a week and only half days, but you are all about it. You actually want more of it. You always keep me on my toes. I never know when your shy is going to kick in versus when your strength is going to shine.

You surprise me time and time again.

Begging to go to a Chiefs game just barely three years old and loving every minute of it.

Begging to go on your first camp out away from home and with people you don’t spend a lot of time with, but you rocked it.

Getting up during our new routine and actually getting yourself dressed perfectly and without help.

Walking up that sidewalk, turning for a picture, and making your way through the door wanting nothing but a hug from me and to scoot me out the door on your first day of preschool.


You’re awesome, Waylon. My rock star!

 Who cusses way too much, hits, fights, whines, laughs, tickles, snuggles, likes to be left alone, eats veggies over meat, and tomatoes like apples, you like the smell of stinky feet way too much, you have too many bruises, and like to talk about poop, and call us mean, you will wear your rain boots, Hulk crocs, flip flops, and cowboy boots over your "fast shoes" any day, and you want to know the reason behind everything especially why old women smoke because you really don't like old women that smoke, except Grandma.

You’re hard headed, and beautiful, and strong. I could kiss your face a million times and it still wouldn’t be enough for me. You frustrate the hell out of me, but I couldn't love your spirit and personality anymore.  I wouldn't change a thing about you.  You're the best fire hat, swim goggle, and sun glass wearin kid around.  You make me love your childhood and wish it would go slower so I could learn deeper each day just how to squeeze the joy out like you do.  I love you so much, Nayners! 

And in your big brother's words, "That Waylon is one powerful man!"

In a house of boys

Who's missing the funny me?  I totally am. 

So, to go along with my up and down posts I'm going to throw in a funny one because you all are probably bored to tears with all the running, workout, and emotional talk. 

I live my life with 4 boys.  Life has GOT to be funny, right?  No matter what is going on I find myself laughing at one point or another.  Yes, I called Dale a boy because sometimes he acts like one.  Thank goodness!

If you are eating lunch or dinner consider this a warning of words to come.

In a house of men there isn't a lot of pressure to look my best 24/7, BUT every once in a while I like to throw on a dress and look smokin hot mainly to feel better about myself and keep Dale's interest, of course.  Getting to that point requires a shower and some time in front of the mirror during hot summer days.  Sometimes I don't get all of my clothes on before one of the mamma's boys comes struttin through the door. 

Comments like "I'll hit your boobies" are mixed in with awkward stares and comments about me not having a pee pee.  I try to be as dressed as possible if I know they will be coming in the door, but it is hot so I basically stay in my underwear while I'm drying my hair.   For the youngest terror it doesn't matter if I have clothes on or not, he still tries to figure out where my pee pee has gone squatting down to look up, hands on his knees and all.  I know he will do this so lately I will head to my closet as soon as he comes in to throw some shorts on.  Recently I have discovered that doesn't even stop him. 

Just the other day I headed in there because I heard his pitter patters coming down the hall.  I threw my shorts on and was standing in the closet getting a shirt.  Before I knew it a cold hand was goosing me several times as I about jumped out of my skin.  He grabs for the nonexistent wienis as if it will magically appear in his hand by doing so.  Perverts at such a young age! 

The same day I recently got all hussied up to head to a baby shower, twisting my ankles on the country ass driveway, trying to avoid the grease covered Semi, and dodging the huge mirrors on Dale's work truck just to head to my car, things reached a new level.  I went to the baby shower, had fabulous girl time, and rushed home to my boys to take the oldest school supply shopping.  As I pulled back into the driveway there was a stick stuck in the chat pile of our country ass driveway with something white hanging from it.  My initial thoughts, the boys must have made some kind of flag.  The realization hit me as soon as I opened the door and the smell of toddler poo found my nose quickly. 

That's the turd laying there.  The boys ended up burying it before we left to go shopping.

"Who's underwear are these?" I barked at my grease covered husband. 

"Waylon's!"  He said with a "get this story I'm about to tell you" grin on his face. 

Waylon has an issue telling anyone else but me he's had an accident.  He will wait until I get home to tell me he's had an accident at the babysitter's.  I'm thinking, oh, that's ok, honey.  Try harder tomorrow, ok?  Until he leads me into the bathroom to get his 8 hour crusted poo off his back side.  He doesn't have many accidents, but they have all been notable!  This time his daddy insisted that he continued to smell shit and checked his pants after an hour of repeated denials. 

When I asked Waylon about it later I was expecting a little embarrassment NOT the huge grin he got on his face and the giggle that followed.   "Did you see my underwear?"  His older brother went on to tell me that daddy cleaned him up by taking him outside to the water hose and spraying him clean.  Apparently he laughed hysterically through the whole thing.  Aaaand daddy hit his "...penis, and it hurt so bad."  Bad enough to continue laughing about it.  Dale didn't want to touch the turd covered undies so he got a stick from the garage and picked them up taking them to the chat pile to fly them high so I would see them AS SOON as I got home.  Lovely of him, right.  Such a thoughtful husband.  I wonder what he ended up doing with those.  I guess I better ask him about it when I get home. 

I'm surprised Waylon didn't explain his accident in terms he learned just the week previous over dinner.  We don't talk about the normal "how was your day" kind of stuff everyday.  Sometimes Dale likes to throw in some good ole life lessons.  Things like what a turtle head is, an undie stamp, and a skid mark.  And as if just using descriptive words isn't enough hand gestures had to be used to really drive the lesson in good.  They know about constipation, hemorrhoids, and the sign language for fart.  Even Weston can tell you that one.  I have to admit that was kind of cute. 

As I showed disgust on my face Dale says to me, "You don't want them learning this from anyone else." And followed that by looking back at the boys letting them know they could go to school and teach the other kids all about it. 

So, we're having a dinner party soon.  Who wants to come over?!

The Good Stuff

"I'm proud to be an American"

Yes, I love my country.  I love my freedom. 

I love the people that sacrifice to allow me to have it.  Honestly, I do, but I take it for granted.

364 days out of the year I usually take it for granted. But on 4th of July when the flags are lining the streets and there are hot dogs and hamburgers, and potato salad, and chips and pop lining every table from here to the next gazillion houses 

When the warm air cools the beads of sweat that form on my forehead 

When we grab our lawn chairs and play around outside from sun up to sun down and later still hearing pop and bang from miles around dressed in our best red, white, and blue
 

When we grab the best seat with the most amazing view of our starry sky and see amazing fireworks explode in the air....

That's when I feel the most pride. That's when I remember and savor every ounce of the blessings this country has afforded me.

And yes, I still get a little emotional. It seems to get worse every year as the boys get older and grow to love this holiday as much as I do, their dad does and as much as their grandpa did.

We spent the day around the house.   The boys playing and with the help of their dad shooting off little firecrackers. 

Waylon practiced taking pictures when I would let him have my camera.

He didn't do too bad.

Wyatt had to have a turn too.

We headed to a historic part of downtown in one of our neighboring towns on the 4th to watch professional fireworks.  The same fireworks we watched the year before. 

Weston got antsy and was throwing tiny lawn chairs around until he heard that first boom.

His eyes found me as fast as they could and his feet were soon to follow.  He couldn't reach me fast enough.  His legs, one on each side of mine.  His arms wrapped tightly over mine as I swallowed up his little body with my arms.  His eyes following every stream and soon his fears relaxed and he was in awe of what he was seeing.  Only to be reminded again as I let go to wipe the hair out of my eyes.  He would grab my arm and force it back as snug around his body as he could get it.  It was the longest he has sat still and quiet that I can remember.

Their eyes.  I love their eyes glowing with taking in memorable sights.  Things to remember for always.  Wyatt recalled how much this night was like Sandlot, one of his favorite movies from the time he was 2.  He kept running to me and saying what he loved the most.  The way they sprayed, the way they sounded, the way they sparkled.  "I love those.  I made up a new name for the big ones I like.  The Good Stuff, Mommy.  I call those the Good Stuff!"

Waylon sat in the stroller because it leaned back and he could have a better, more comfy view.  He was drumming along with the beat of the music and every once in a while he would catch my eye as his arms flung up in the air in celebration of "the Good Stuff". 

It was one of those nights when everything was just about as perfect as you could get it.  No one was fighting.  No one was yelling.  No one was mad.  No one was pouting.  Just smiles and sparkling eyes reflecting the amazing images in the sky in celebration of the country we love.  Everyone was taking in moment after moment and I found myself breathing in as much as I possibly could and loving absolutely every second of it.  That's what I call "The Good Stuff"!