My Boy's Menorrah

We're not Jewish, but...

We sure love to celebrate the holidays.

Especially the littlest joy!

He also loves to help me decorate for Christmas.

A couple of years ago we were at our local Cracker Barrel in December. And when at Cracker Barrel, you MUST shop a little. As I perused the ornaments, candles, and stockings, I found myself being tugged by little hands to see a decoration that we needed, or so he proclaimed.

And this is the decoration that he spied with his little eyes.

How could I tell this little face no?

Obviously, I didn't!

♫ He Fought the Pool and the Pool Won ♫

This is what happens when a super-strong little man bangs his mouth into the side of the pool (while wrestling with his brother.)And this is the same super-strong little fella, as we're headed for an emergency dental appointment.But thankfully, his sweet smile was made beautiful again!And after nearly 16 hours with NO food, as to allow for anesthesia if needed, he batted his blue eyes, flashed those pearly whites, and requested lunch at Red Robin. It seemed that a meal with endless french fries could solve all his problems! THE END

(until the next round of boy trauma that causes mama drama!)

Out-smarted by a Seven-Year-Old

After another of our infamous trips to Cracker Barrel, we sat in the living room eating my favorite candy of all times... Sour Patch Kids! I had picked them up at the register while paying for our meal. The green ones are my favorite flavor, and I tend to be a bit greedy when it comes to sharing those.

And when the littlest joy asked for one, I said, "What color?"

And he said, "a lell-low one."

We've been working on articulating the word 'yellow' this week, so I said, "What color?"

And he said, "Lell-low."

And I said, "What color?"

And he said, "Lell-low."

And I said, What color?"

And he said, "RED!"

And with that Superman and I burst out laughing.

I don't think I managed to teach the lesson I had intended!

Baby Overload

Just popping in to share a bit of wisdom from MY baby.

In my family- the one I had before I married( my mom, dad, sister, and brother) my little brother, Daniel, is known as "THE baby". He is the baby boy, the baby brother, the baby grandchild, THE baby!

In my married family, there are lots of babies. Sometimes I call Superman "baby". C gets the occassional nickname of "long-legged baby", and W is just "the baby", because he's MY baby. W is my last and final baby to bring into this world, therefore I justify calling him MY baby.

The other night I checked on him in the tub, when I remarked something along the lines of him being "the baby". He acted as if he didn't hear me. I said, "W, are you alright?" Of course he pipped in with his ever so clever self and said, "Oh, I thought you were talking about Uncle Daniel!"

Yeah right, little one!

Let's get this straight, Uncle Daniel may be "THE" baby in some circles, but you are "MY" baby, which means you are "the baby" in this family!

I know it is confusing because you must share the name "BABY" and the name "DANIEL" with him. So let me help you out.

Here's a little pictorial to help you get it straight...

MY baby

THE baby

MY baby

THE baby

MY baby

THE LONG-LEGGED baby

MY baby

THE baby with new baby

MY baby

THE baby with KK

THE baby with KK's baby

MY baby

MY LONG-LEGGED baby

THE baby

THE Heisman baby

MY Gamecock baby

MY Tiger baby

THE baby with sleeping baby

MY Santa baby

THE baby with me

FRESH baby

FRESH baby's daddy

THE baby with our daddy

And last, but not least......................................
MY baby

Do you think you have it now?

If not, I can explain it all again!

Losing Canines (Teeth)

What a difference a week makes! One week ago, I couldn't come up with any stories to share. Today, I have so many things going on that I want to share, it's going to take me two or three posts to get it all said and done! Let me begin with this fella.
My oldest joy came running into the bathroom tonight to let me know that he had a loose tooth.

2.47 minutes later, he had pulled his lower right canine- by himself.

Now, before you get all hot and bothered, and start beating yourself up about your own parenting skills, because you have no clue which tooth actually is the lower right canine, let me go ahead and confess that I had no clue either. However, about the time I realized he had already yanked a tooth out of his head, I also realized I didn't know if it was a baby tooth or a permanent tooth.

Fearing an emergency trip to the dentist, panic set in and I was just about to call KK and pick her dental hygienist brain... for help with our dental emergency... again. But then I realized it was already after 9:00, and her little one was most likely sleeping.

It's amazing what a panic attack and a Google session can teach you!
Tonight, it taught me that I had no need to fear. The tooth he pulled was his lower right canine, and most children loose their canines between the ages of 9 and 12. He's 9, so we're right on time.

And it's so nice to be on time for something!

Did I mention that this brave little man pulled his tooth by himself?

2.47 minutes after realizing it was loose?

Or that patience is a virtue he hasn't quite developed yet?

Yep, he's mine!

Air Mail

I was minding my own business.
Soaking in a bubble bath.
And in flew a piece of air mail.
Just for me!

And ever so carefully, I opened it.
I recognized the handwriting as that of a little joy...my littlest joy...the one that looks like his daddy, but acts like his mama!
And in typical "acting like his mama" fashion, he peeped his head around the corner and proceeded to translate it for me.

"I love- loVE- LOVE mom!", he said with increasing emphasis.

And I chuckled to myself.

He's a sweet little monkey!

And he's getting smarter every day!

Not only has he figured out how to use his eyes...smile...dimples...charm to his advantage. He's even figured out how to sneak in a few extra hearts into his love letters! Did you notice the heart replacing the "o's" in love and mom? He's a tricky little monkey!

Now my littlest joy, here's a trick for you. Please stop growing up so fast! Time is passing much too quickly!

But no matter how big and strong you grow, you'll always be my baby baby!

I love, loVE, LOVE you, too!

Just Another Manic Monday

What a whirlwind several days we've had. It's been so busy I haven't had a chance to post. Things haven't slowed down yet, but I had to take a minute or two and share some of what has been happening!

My sweet boys left Thursday night to go visit their Grammy (my mom)! With them out of town, Superman and I were able to get away on a couples' trip to the beach. We had a wonderful time! We went with the boys' godparents and another couple they knew. It was so nice to be back at the beach. It was chilly and windy, but there's just something about being at the beach!

There's also just something about being away from your children. The first 12 hours were sheer bliss! But it was all downhill after that! Can anyone tell me why it is that we, as parents, sometimes long for a little time away without our children. Yet, as soon as we get away, we're homesick for them? Poor Superman has had to endure a lot of whining from one mama that is homesick for her babies. In fact, as we lay in bed last night, and I was on the verge of my THIRD tear and snot induced mama meltdown, he said, "Honey, why don't you just go ahead and call them." And when I looked at the clock and saw that it was already 10:30 and well past their bedtime and all sense of reality clicked in my brain, I did what any sane mama would do. I made a mad dash for the phone and hit the speed dial to Grammy's house.

After all, I know my children, and I know my mother. Just as my children get to watch satellite channels at Grammy's house that are blocked at our house, they also get to have the bedtime of their choosing at Grammy's house. This normally means, that whenever they fall asleep during a banned Cartoon Network or Nickelodeon program, that particular time counts as their bedtime.

The boys were, of course, still awake when I called. My biggest joy told me of his adventures at Wal-Mart, and how hard it is to be nice to his brother. He also let me know that he had cried because he missed me. And with that, I began my THIRD homesick-for-babies-cry. Next, my littlest joy got on the phone. Due to his gift of gab and his unusually gifted Sweet Skills, he normally brings me to tears at will. Not last night, though! Oh no, I was a strong mama.

Before my littlest joy left on his journey of spoiling, he came and loved on me as I folded clothes in the laundry room. He wanted to know if I'd come get him if he got homesick. And I said, "Of course!" He wanted to know if I'd miss him. And I said, "Of course!" Then he gave me a big hug and said, "I'm going to miss you Mommy!" And I patted myself on my back and thought about what a wonderful mama I surely must be.

The littlest joy must not have realized I was following along behind him as he walked out of the laundry room. You see, he had brainwashed me. He had mesmerized me with his charm. Instead of having him put away his own laundry, I thought I'd follow behind him and put them away for him. After all, he was already traumatized with the mere thought of being away from me for a few days. How could I torture him further with the chore of putting his clean clothes away?

As I followed behind him, he stopped at the table where Superman was sitting. He wrapped his little arms around Superman's neck, and I heard the following words roll out on that sly little tongue, "Daddy, I'm going to miss you...THE MOST!"

What?!?!

WHAT?!?!

That's right! The little stinker is a Daddy's Boy! And that's why I didn't cry last night! I was a strong mama! I'm immune to his brainwashing techniques now!

Well, I have lights to put on a Christmas tree, and food to cook for Superman. And without my little joys here, I have no excuses for procrastinating! I'll leave you with a tranquil photo from a friend's house at the beach, and a promise to post again soon!

Adventures in Comedian-sitting

I've decided that if ever again I'm at a loss for blogging material, I need only to go on a date with my youngest joy, and I will return with a week's worth of entries. For the past two days W has been my shadow. Superman has been home due to the rain, and C has seized the opportunity to have some "quality Daddy time" aka non-weekend video game time. (I could veer off on a rant about how I despise video gaming or how the constant repetition of cheesy-arcade-like music blaring in full Dolby surround-sound grates on my nerves worse than fingernails on chalkboards, but I won't. I'll save save that post for later...)

Now, where was I? Oh yes, my littlest joy and the wealth of his comedic adventures. W is the one that looks like his daddy, but acts like his mama. To put it in layman's terms, the boy never shuts up, bless his heart! And I only lay claim to the verbal side of him that is brilliant, adorable, or precious. Every once in awhile he has a disrespectful or sarcastic moment, and I blame those genetics on his daddy (or on some great, great grand-someone on Superman's side of the family--of course!)

So yesterday W and I had time for a date and a little shopping after I took him to PT. We stopped by a local store that carries college team paraphernalia for our state's two rival teams. Did you guess that I shop on the orange side and W shops on the garnet side? Again, I blame that on Superman's genetics!!! However, I must take the blame for the fact that W can go into any given store and fall in love with the most expensive item they sell- all within 2 minutes of walking in the door. Needless to say, we left with only removable face tattoos for each team. Then we were off to Cracker Barrel.

Oh my, how I love biscuits with blackberry jelly from Cracker Barrel! My mouth is watering as I type! With C being on a GFCF diet, we rarely get the opportunity to indulge. Lucky for us, C was busy with Superman and "quality Daddy time". W and I browsed the Christmas items for a few minutes and then were seated. My littlest joy even pulled out my chair for me to sit down. And just as the waitress came to our table to take our drink orders and I was thinking to myself, "Oh, what a budding little gentleman W is becoming", my ears heard, "Two teas please, and could you also bring us biscuits with blackberry jelly."

I don't know who was more in shock, me or the waitress. After all, he's only 7! Our kind waitress smiled and asked him if he was hungry. And with a sigh he answered, "Yes ma'am, she's had me out shopping all day and I'm starving!"

Yep! Superman's genetics!

Sweet Skills

You know how every once in awhile your child will blurt out something absolutely brilliant? Something so brilliant that you pat yourself on the back for birthing such a genius!?!?! Well, I just had one of those moments. And obviously had to share...

My little W (the one that looks like his daddy, but acts like his mama- bless his heart) was curled up on the couch and I just couldn't resist snuggling up to him and stealing a few sleepy-headed kisses. As I loved on him, he turned towards me and said, "Mama, you're so sweet I just can't think of a word to say how sweet you are!" Upon hearing this, Superman's head spun around and looked at me in disbelief. He knew he'd just been one-upped by his 7-year-old.

Now, we're a household full of comedians, and I couldn't help but put a little fuel on the fire. I said, "W, you're going to be such a good husband one day. Now you've got to teach Daddy how to say such sweet things." And my brilliant little boy just looked at me and smiled. He knew better than to add anything else... just yet!

We laid on the couch a few minutes longer watching Superman playing his video game. But just as I was getting up to walk out of the room, my sweet little joy looked up with a twinkle in his eyes and said, "Mama, you want me to teach Daddy some of my sweet skills now?"

Yep, he's mine!

DOG FIGHTS---military-style, not Michael Vick-style

So, I've been debating as to whether or not to even post this...I'm afraid of what STRANGErs might google dog fights and end up viewing my blog. But, I'm the type of gal that pulls for the underdog (no pun intended), hates injustice, and has her own unique opinions about the way the world should revolve. Yet I also believe the best way to lose a friend is to debate religion or politics. With all of that said, this is not a debate! It's my opinion, and my own little rant of the moment...

What does it say about the world we live in when I must clarify that my sweet C's latest obsession with military planes, tactical maneuvers, and all things related to the History Channel's Dog Fights show are in no way related to the heartless, selfish, greedy world of the recently publicized dog fights involving animals?!?! He's just a nine-year-old little boy who inherited his Paw Paw's love of the military!

For example, when we were at the museum and he spied the aircraft carrier and war planes on exhibit and loudly declared, "Look Mama, dog fights! I LOVE dogfights!" heads spun around faster than the propellers on a plane in flight! Seriously! So I did what any other self-respecting mother would do. I used one hand to point in the direction of the plane display, and I used my other hand to cover my face as I shook my head in disbelief!

I then stood there and listened patiently as he gave me the step-by-step, part-by-part, maneuver-by-maneuver explanation of what surely would have made any airplane historian or military tactical analyst proud! And to be honest, for once in my life, I was thankful that my little C was broadcasting all of his knowledge to the top of his excited little lungs!

Today's Dramedy

Having a much better day today! We got our school work done and headed out on a few errands. Our last stop was the oil changing place. I should have known I was in for a little drama when the owner looked at me and laughed as I pulled in, questioning me as to how many THOUSAND miles I was overdue this time.

3,000 miles overdue, thank you very much! But I love me some John Force, and I love me some Castrol Syntec, so it was OK! But that's a whole different post that my gorgeous superman will have to write... on to the adventure with my little joys as we waited in the office area.

And here's how the conversation progressed...
W-"Hey Mama, I see a snake!" as he peered through the door separating us from the garage area.
Dana D- "What?!?!" with a shriek loud enough to cause chuckles in the waiting area.
C- "Yeah Mama, I see it too... but it's not real."
C- "Really! Really!" (trying to calm me)
W- "Really!" (trying to hide his frustration with me)

With this, the sweet fella working in the office area walked into the garage area, picks up, AND WIGGLES this black piece of tire cut out to look like a heart-attack inducing cotton mouth.

So... anyone who knows me will attest to the fact that I'm just a teensy-bit dramatic... thus causing me to involuntarily cover my eyes and shiver and shake and shriek and... well surely you can visualize the rest!

So I looked at my little men with my best damsel-in-distress, helpless look and said, "Mommy doesn't like snakes, not even fake ones." (sigh)

And my youngest little joy, the one that might look like his daddy--but acts like his mama, piped in with an eye-rolling, ever-so-dramatic, "Yeah, we know!" (sigh)

This caused me to utter my typical W response as of late.
"Son, you are your daddy's boy!"

...but the drama-turned-comedy doesn't end just yet- oh no!

My oldest little joy, the one that looks like his mama--but acts like his daddy, piped in with an ever-so sincere, "And I'm mama's boy-- I'm scared of snakes, too!"