Delectable Thought

Being the mother of a boy or M.O.B. means NO PERSONAL SPACE. Being the mother of anyone really means that. I didn't expect my boys to be so entranced with me all the time. I thought at some point they would attach themselves (rightly so) to their dad and I would be left waiting for a snippet of their attention as they stomped through their house in their muddy shoes newly home from some grand adventure with dad. This is a false thought. My boys seem to find everything I do fascinating. It's like I'm some incredibly entertaining toy that they must always be around. It's as if they think they're going to miss out on something I say or do or some expression I make if they aren't with me and not just with me, but touching my body at all times. (O.k., I'm exaggerating about the "touching my body" thing.) I've often wondered why my children don't have black eyes or beat up faces from the many times I've taken a step sideways and elbowed th...

Time is not my friend. Before my very eyes my little boy, John Owen is becoming a little man. It's like the dawn of every day brings some new growth or change in him. He has always been highly verbal--quite the talker. Usually he's used up all his word allotment by mid-morning. This does not deter him though. Never fear, he does not run out of things to say or ask. For months, he's been asking for a belt like Dad's and mine's. He hasn't really needed a belt until recently when he's in that awkward stage of not really being a size that you can buy in the stores. This perplexes me because I know he's not the only child to be like this--in between sizes. I just don't understand why retailers don't make some in between sizes. Not just 3t, but "No longer 3t, but not quite 4t" size. That's what size he is. So we go up a size and the 4t pants are too big. I bought him a belt yesterday and brought it home to him. He promptly tried it on an...

Is this parenting gig hard or what? And I only have two kids. I can only imagine what a day is like for those who have way more kids than I. A lot has been going on around here which has compounded the toughness of parenting. We are replacing the shower in our master bathroom. Really, I mean Zack is doing it and I'm checking in every now and then to see how things are going. I've been busy with some things from church, so our normal daily routine basically hasn't existed this week. Add these monsoons that we've been having that have been exchanged for blazing hot days and we've got some rowdy boys 'round here, y'all. Not just rowdy, but grumpy, too. Or maybe I'm the grumpy one! I've had some parenting fails--someone should follow us with a camera and then upload the videos to youtube. We'd be an instant hit with the "What Not To Do When..." just fill in the blank. Most of the time when I'm tired or distracted and one of my kids st...

This August will mark four years that I have been a mother to a boy. One boy for three years was interesting. Now that we've added a second boy, well, life is really interesting. There are some things about boys that have surprised me somewhat.  For example, they really like their mamas. Before becoming a M.O.B., I thought they'd be all about Dad. They do love their dad, but my boys seem to find everything I do riveting. Like showering. It's the one thing I like to do alone. I shut the door, turn the water on and enjoy the five or ten minutes of solitude. I keep the bathroom door locked during this "mommy time". And then I hear it. An bone-chilling scream coming from the living room. What can it mean? Did some intruder enter the house? Have they gotten into the steak knives and cut off a toe? I stop the shower, grab a towel and race into the living room. They are where I left them. Sitting in front of the t.v. watching an episode of Clifford the Big Red Dog . I l...

My boys like to wrestle.  A Lot! I used to wrestle with my brother, which really meant I tried to keep from dying when he jumped on me. My brother is only thirteen months older than me. Yes, you read that right. Thirteen months. I was the perfect wrestling partner for him because we were always about the same size, so it didn't seem like he was a big kid whoopin' up on his little sister.  Here at our house, John Owen is bigger than James, but the whoopin' up happens all the same. So far there have been no broken bones or any blood. I call that "playin'". I heard them "playin'" today and found John Owen holding James from the back, running and falling on a mattress we have on the floor.  (Why do you have a mattress on your floor, you ask? Good question friends, but it's come in handy for days like today. ) I did what any caring mom would do and I videoed it.  While these sweet boys can be so rough and tumble, they have their sweet moments wher...