Super Mommy

     This morning Joshua cuddled up to me (and by cuddling, I mean crazy head butting) and called me "Super Mommy".  I didn't take it to be like the kind of Super Mom you brag about on a coffee mug.  Afterall, he had just called himself "Super Joshua" and, of course, Liam was "Super Liam".  But it got me thinking... maybe Joshua does actually think I have super powers.
     This makes sense because he insists on me immediately providing him with oatmeal even when he can see me taking steps to prepare it with his own two eyes.  I can even say, "I'm heating the water for your oatmeal." and then Joshua will reply, "Where's my oatmeal?"  When it comes to breakfast, neither of the boys seem to really care about my dining experience.  I may have just sat down with a nice bowl of crunchy frosted mini-wheats, when in no time at all I am told by one of the boys, "I am out of milk" or "I dropped my spoon".  I look around the room trying to figure out who they are telling this to.  Surely, they don't expect me to jeopardize my cereal to help them.  But actually, they do.  I wonder if they think I have super speed that allows me to conjure up their breakfasts without my own suffering with soggy cereal.  Or maybe they think I'm so invincible that soggy cereal is no concern for me.  Perhaps that's the case.
     Speaking of meals, I want to know why it is that no matter what I ask Joshua he wants to eat, he somehow always decides to change his mind once the meal is served to him.  Again, perhaps he thinks I have super powers to reverse time and prepare him his new choice instead of what is in front of him.  The other day we packed our lunch for a day trip.  I have several witnesses who can attest that he did actually agree to peanut butter and jelly... and yet when we opened the lunch bag he wanted ham and cheese and insisted that he had asked for that in the first place.  Since I have no powers of time travel, I was only able to convince him to eat what I had made him (so he could then have his pudding).
     It seems that the boys really do think I am powerful enough to multi-task like a super hero.  They really do think I can get their drink at the same time that I am vacuuming or that I can find the remote when it's buried under couch cushions.  When I get Joshua dressed every morning he yells at me... literally yells at me... to put on his socks- while I am still putting on his pants.  As if I could do both at once... as if.  I'll tell you what's super human; putting on this kids' shoes while he tries to run away and kicks his feet around. 
    In movies super heros are treated with respect... and awe.  No one can believe how powerful they are and they are forever in dept to their service.  Superman never had to tell one of the people he saved to say, "Thank you".  Wonderwoman never had to prompt- "Now what do you say, Dear?" 
     I've got no super powers.  At best, I have super hearing... but that's only because of the baby monitors we have around the house.  Instead I have to figure out how to prepare Josh's oatmeal, put on his socks and pick out the right pants all at the same time that I am buttering Liam's english muffin and putting it on a blue plate (god forbit it's pink) with apple juice in a glass cup.  Plus there's the stuff they don't think about that a mom does need to remember... like returning library books, vacuuming the floors and washing winter coats because they keep rubbing up against the dusty salty car.
     Or maybe I'm just reading into it too much.  Maybe Joshua just called me "Super Mommy" because he wanted me to stop worrying so much about the vacuuming, whose spoon is on the floor and what flavor oatmeal he asked for.  Maybe he wanted me to just stand with him on the sofa and take a flying leap and then a roll onto the floor.  Maybe he just wanted me to play Super Heros with him... after I put on his socks.

What's Your Toy-Q?

     Anyone who has tried to carry on a conversation with me over the past five years can probably attest to the fact that I'm a lot less sharp than I used to be.  See, before kids I would have used the word "articulate".  Granted, I've always had trouble splitting a check with friends (with tip) but now it seems like I'm even more dumb than before.  I'm so dumb that I can't even think of a good example about how dumb I am right now (I may very well think of six once I'm done posting).  Now I think I know why I'm not so smart anymore.  It's my theory that all 110 points of my IQ (this is not confirmed, just a guess) are being wasted at classifying kids' toys.  Now you can give it a try... What's your toy IQ?  Two points for every answer- one for a correct type of toy and a second point if you can name the brand! 

Disclaimer: This quiz might be only slightly gender biased... I don't have any Polly Pocket dresses lying around.  But I did try to choose gender neutral toys for the purpose of fairness.

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Well? How did you do?  Let's find out if you're as smart as me (which means you've likely diverted most of your intelligence to toy classification too).

1.  Lincoln Logs window

2. Candy Land man

3. Mr. Potato Head's ear

4. Elefun butterfly

5. Red cylinder puzzle block (by ?)

6. Red wooden block by Imaginarium (I think)

7. Fisher Price doctor kit blood pressure bulb

8. Let's Go Fishing (blue fishy)

9. Ants In My Pants (green ant that looks more like a grasshopper)  

11. Nerf dart gun

12. Silly Band guitar

13. Rock and Roll Mr. Potato Head's earring

14. Chameleon from the dentist's office grab bag (notice how he is camouflaged to match the stains on my table)

15. Peas

16. Batman's bat thingy from Imaginext

17. Stylus for Nintendo DS

18. Trio block

19. Bristle blocks by Playskool

20. Stinker from Uno Moo

21. I have no idea what this is.  I found it at the bottom of a toy box.  You get an extra 20 points if you know what this is and you post a comment.

Romance

 
     I love cheese... but I hate cheesiness. And that is why I need to apologize to many of you. I'm sorry if some of my posts have caused you to throw up in your mouth a little bit. I know, it's gross... but so are inspirational quote books. That being said, it is Valentine's Day and I do need to be a little bit romantic. I will do my best to write a Valentine that won't make you gag... too much.

     A few years ago when I had time to talk philosophically (clearly before kids), I asked a good friend who is also a male to tell me the most romantic gesture he could think of. He said it was to take a delicate necklace and to wrap it around a single rose. I almost cried... laughing. No, that's not romantic to me at all. And neither is a 4 foot teddy bear that I would just put in my kids' room. I'll tell you that over the years I've gotten a lot of flowers from Bill (that's because we've been together for a long time, not because he gets me a lot of flowers). The most romantic flowers I remember ever getting from him was 4 roses. I'm not 100% sure but I think it was for our 6 month anniversary. We were teenagers and I was at a friends' house waiting for him and he showed up late and I was furious. And then I got 4 roses and I was confused. What was the significance of 4 roses? Apparently the other two had a mis-hap and got... well deflowered. I couldn't get too mad... after all, here he was... with 4 roses and a funny story that I can't fully remember now. But I do remember this- that they were very pretty roses and I didn't stay mad at him because dropping two roses on the ground and bringing me the other 4... well, for some reason that's romantic to me.

     Most recently the most romantic gesture I've received is... a full tank of gas. I got into my car in the school parking lot, ready to head home and there it was... a full tank of gas in a car that was running close to empty. Bill had been "in the neighborhood" and decided to fill up the tank. He also left my seat in the far back position, which kind of gave away who had performed this awesome deed. Of course, that's not his only romantic gesture of late. He's in the process of fixing our furnace- which included weeks of troubleshooting and waking up in the middle of the night to turn it back on so we didn't wake up as icicles. He has cooked us ribs, steak tips, chicken wings, frozen pizza and cheeseburger surprise... all in the last two weeks. He got me new tires and paid extra to get me all 4... because it's safer that way. He doesn't complain when I snore. He's mid-way through reading the Chronicles of Narnia to Liam (we've agreed, I'll read the series to Joshua). He lets me drink coffee out of his mug every morning. He saved us over $1200 in airfare for our first official family vacation in, well, never. Come to think of it, this is a guy I could probably stay married to for, well, forever.

     Sorry if I just made you throw up in your mouth a little bit.

Getting the Wrong Ideas

     Early on I have tried to instill self-monitoring in my children.  This is to say, I'm too lazy to get off the couch and stop their poor behavior.  Often I will say, "It seems like a bad idea"... instead of outright saying "NO" or "I'll go get your father if you don't stop that."  And like most brothers, these guys have had their fair share of Bad Ideas. 
     Hiding a Christmas stocking full of candy under a couch cushion is clearly a bad idea. If you are going to be sneaky, you should hide candy somewhere where it is actually hidden.  I would suggest in your room.  The couch is too public a place and the raised up cushion is just too obvious.  On the off chance that someone will sit down anyway, you are also running the risk of melted chocolate and broken candy canes. Bad Idea.
     Cutting your own hair to make a reverse mohawk is also a bad idea.  If you are in the mood to cut hair, instead of practicing on your own, I would suggest cutting your little brother's hair instead.  It's not such a big deal for a baby to have a bad haircut... but a Kindergartner?  Now that's just uncool.  What's worse, your mom might find your bad haircut hilarious and make you suffer by not getting you a real haircut for 2 weeks after the bad cut. Then you will have to walk around with the middle part of your bangs cut to the scalp while the rest of your bangs cover your eyes.  I do appreciate that you used kiddie scissors but... Bad Idea.
     For some reason the kids really do think our couches are jungle gyms.  They like to run across the cushions and really have no preference for the cushions being on the couch or on the floor.  Either way, they leap to and fro.  They make loops around the living room.  Despite many pleas and shouts from parents, part of this loop involves a drop from the arm of the sofa to the floor.  This is not expensive furniture and there are obvious concerns over the wood frame breaking but I'm more concerned with the possible broken necks as they slide from the arm to the floor.  Inevitably someone ends up on top of someone else and there there is the obligatory crying.  Bad Idea.
     Lollipops are great parenting strategies... or tools... or whatever you want to call them.  Lollipops can persuade a child to sit quietly while Mommy and Daddy go holiday shopping. They can reward someone for calmly sitting to get their hair cut (to correct their mistake with kiddie scissors).  Lollipops are a great treat, it's true, but walking around with a lollipop in your hand and not eating it right away... is not such a great idea.  Give it some time, you will drop the lollipop and it will be covered in hair from the hair salon's waiting room carpet.  That's why, if Mommy gives you a lollipop, you should enjoy it right away instead of walking around with it.  That's a Bad Idea.
     This shouldn't surprise me.  When Bill and his brothers were little I hear they rode down the stairs in a laundry basket.  Bad Idea.  He also washed a car... with charcoal lighter fluid.  Bad Idea. While Bill was learning life lessons, I was too.  I learned that if I thought it was fun to jump in the town sandpit barefoot, there were just as many people who found it fun to drink and throw bottles in that same sandpit and that I was bound to land barefoot onto one of those broken bottles.  Bad Idea.  No, it really shouldn't surprise me. I once cut my bangs too after all... right to the scalp... when I was in middle school. As if I wasn't enough of a dork in middle school, I had to wear a thick elastic headband for several weeks until it was presentable (actually it still wasn't presentable a couple of weeks later, but I was a dork anyway so it wasn't that big a deal... plus this was back in the day when curling and spraying bangs was the norm). Anyway, I agree about cutting hair. It's a Bad Idea.
     Bad Ideas seem about as inevitable as toothpaste on the bathroom counter.  They're just going to happen.  You can warn against them, but some life lessons need to be learned on their own. 
     Sometimes you need to learn lessons the hard way.  I suppose I learn lessons from my own Bad Ideas each and every day.  I don't try to cut my own hair anymore and I've completely stopped having fun in a dare-devilish way.  I don't remember the last time I saw Bill coast down the stairs in a laundry basket.  Here's to hoping that next time Joshua gets a lollipop, he'll just enjoy it right away instead of coveting and then dropping it.  And here's to hoping that Liam will not cut his own hair again... or Joshua's for that matter.  And as for the Christmas stocking... seriously Liam, find a better hiding spot.