As you all know, Will lives life at full speed. Right now, I am kind of afraid to take him out in public for fear that DSS might show up at our house. He has a bruise on his left cheek. He was kneeling on a throw pillow from the couch while Ian was swinging him around by his arms. He flew off the pillow and landed cheek down on the hardwood floor. He has a bruise on his right jaw. I am not completely sure how he got that one but I think it he got kicked while on the trampoline. Yesterday, he and Ian were horsing around and Will took off to run. He tripped over his own feet and ran face first into the dining room table. Yep, black right eye. He looks so pitiful. However, it hasn't slowed him down a bit.
We did go shoe shopping today and people asked him several times about his bruises. He showed each off with pride. He probably will be in UFC or something when he grows up!
When we got home from shopping, Will, Maggie and I took a nap. Yay! When we got up, Josh and Ian were across the street at the neighbor's. I asked Will if he wanted to go over. He said not without Mags. We all headed across the street---Will taking the time to hold her hand and instruct her not to cross the street until they looked both ways. He didn't rush ahead of her when the coast was clear either. He helped her across the street and all the way down the driveway.
On our return home, I started walking with the boys while Josh was coming behind with Maggie. Halfway down the driveway, Will suddenly realized I wasn't carrying Maggie. Stopping dead in his tracks, he said, "Where is my Mags?" I told him that she was spending the night with our neighbor's. "Momma, you march right back there and get my baby sister. She is too little to stay by herself. She will miss me." Laughing, I let him know that she was really coming with their Dad. At home, as I am rocking her, he comes in to give me a kiss goodnight. He then leans in to Maggie, whispers "Love you Sissy" to her and kisses her on the cheek. He turns to walk out the room but instead turns back to Maggie, kisses her on the leg, looks her in the eyes and says, 'I love you, Mags. You own my heart." Maggie rubs his head and answers back with "Love." It was the first time she said that word. Such a special moment shared by two of the three loves that own my heart.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
Rockstars, Politicians & Drug Addicts
It's been a long week for the Burgess Bunch. In case you didn't know, it is hot outside. Like sweat as soon as you walk outside and can't breathe hot. On top of that misery, we have been dealing with a close friend and a family member dealing with major health issues. As a result, I haven't slept well and have been pretty grumpy. The kids have been champs about it and spent a lot of time praying with me this week. For that, I am extremely proud and grateful. We have done our best to still have fun this week. Here are some of our stories!
Will has been doing a pretty good job lately cleaning up. Since this is a huge improvement from allowing Ian to do all the cleaning, I am trying to praise him as much as I can. Me: Will, great job cleaning up those Lego's. Will: I know. I am a ROCKSTAR! He then stands up, air guitars across the room and gives me a peace sign. Awesome.
I am a total politics junkie and have been as long as I can remember. Because of that, my kids are pretty well versed in the major political players and the issues up for debate. This week is all about the debt ceiling. Ian has proclaimed his desire to fire Congress if he were able to vote. He doesn't really understand the economics of the debt ceiling, but he was happy to volunteer his Dad to loan Congress some equipment to "raise the ceiling already." Like most other Americans, he has also been very frustrated by Congress's inability to compromise. He said tonight: It's called "Let's Make a Deal" people. These jokers need to get their act together. Why does everything have to come down to a crisis with them?" Me: Because, honey, they are too busy trying to win for their side and lack the political courage to do what is best for the country. Ian: Well then maybe they need to visit the Wizard of Oz to get some darn courage. Kansas anyone?
Maggie is still working on potty training. Yesterday, she had an accident. Will: Grow up, Sister. Grow up and be good." She looks at him, pretty hurt. He then gives her a kiss and says, "I am not mad a you, Priss. You just have to do better next time." Love it.
I was driving to the grocery store this week with my kids and Cole. As we are approaching a stop light, I clue in to the fact that Ian and Cole are whispering in the back seat. The only part of the conversation I hear is "you light it up and breathe in." Fabulous. So I turn down the radio and ask them what they are talking about. Silence. I ask again. Nothing. I finally say, "It's not a big deal what you were talking about. Let's just talk about it." So Ian pipes up and says, "We were talking about the 'S' word." I think about it very quickly and realize I think he means smoking but I don't want to guess so I say, "Which word?" He responds like I should know "cigarettes." He is only going to 2nd grade. Easy mistake. I am intrigued of course as to why they are discussing smoking cigarettes. So I ask. Ian tells me they are talking about how you smoke and that cigarettes are drugs. I then explain all about how cigarettes are made and why they are dangerous to smoke. Ian then brings up the fact that one of our friends smokes. "You know, he is going to DIE." I explain that yes, smoking cigarettes is dangerous and that they can cause diseases that you can die from. Somehow the issue of drugs leads to a discussion by Ian that beer is also a drug.That is what they taught him in school this year. Therefore, drinking beer makes you a drug addict. Ian: Does that make you and Daddy drug addicts?
Great. Josh and I are drug addicts. Way to go public school system. So then I have to explain about how alcohol can be dangerous but that moderation as an adult is the key. I am exhausted from the conversation and want to circle it back around to be sure we are clear about the dangers of smoking. I bring up how much smoking costs. Ian thinks that "wasting money on something that will kill you is a REALLY bad idea." I completely agree. Satisfied that he understands smoking is bad and that his Dad and I aren't drug addicts, I wrap up the conversation.
Now you see why I feel the need to pray so much!
Will has been doing a pretty good job lately cleaning up. Since this is a huge improvement from allowing Ian to do all the cleaning, I am trying to praise him as much as I can. Me: Will, great job cleaning up those Lego's. Will: I know. I am a ROCKSTAR! He then stands up, air guitars across the room and gives me a peace sign. Awesome.
I am a total politics junkie and have been as long as I can remember. Because of that, my kids are pretty well versed in the major political players and the issues up for debate. This week is all about the debt ceiling. Ian has proclaimed his desire to fire Congress if he were able to vote. He doesn't really understand the economics of the debt ceiling, but he was happy to volunteer his Dad to loan Congress some equipment to "raise the ceiling already." Like most other Americans, he has also been very frustrated by Congress's inability to compromise. He said tonight: It's called "Let's Make a Deal" people. These jokers need to get their act together. Why does everything have to come down to a crisis with them?" Me: Because, honey, they are too busy trying to win for their side and lack the political courage to do what is best for the country. Ian: Well then maybe they need to visit the Wizard of Oz to get some darn courage. Kansas anyone?
Maggie is still working on potty training. Yesterday, she had an accident. Will: Grow up, Sister. Grow up and be good." She looks at him, pretty hurt. He then gives her a kiss and says, "I am not mad a you, Priss. You just have to do better next time." Love it.
I was driving to the grocery store this week with my kids and Cole. As we are approaching a stop light, I clue in to the fact that Ian and Cole are whispering in the back seat. The only part of the conversation I hear is "you light it up and breathe in." Fabulous. So I turn down the radio and ask them what they are talking about. Silence. I ask again. Nothing. I finally say, "It's not a big deal what you were talking about. Let's just talk about it." So Ian pipes up and says, "We were talking about the 'S' word." I think about it very quickly and realize I think he means smoking but I don't want to guess so I say, "Which word?" He responds like I should know "cigarettes." He is only going to 2nd grade. Easy mistake. I am intrigued of course as to why they are discussing smoking cigarettes. So I ask. Ian tells me they are talking about how you smoke and that cigarettes are drugs. I then explain all about how cigarettes are made and why they are dangerous to smoke. Ian then brings up the fact that one of our friends smokes. "You know, he is going to DIE." I explain that yes, smoking cigarettes is dangerous and that they can cause diseases that you can die from. Somehow the issue of drugs leads to a discussion by Ian that beer is also a drug.That is what they taught him in school this year. Therefore, drinking beer makes you a drug addict. Ian: Does that make you and Daddy drug addicts?
Great. Josh and I are drug addicts. Way to go public school system. So then I have to explain about how alcohol can be dangerous but that moderation as an adult is the key. I am exhausted from the conversation and want to circle it back around to be sure we are clear about the dangers of smoking. I bring up how much smoking costs. Ian thinks that "wasting money on something that will kill you is a REALLY bad idea." I completely agree. Satisfied that he understands smoking is bad and that his Dad and I aren't drug addicts, I wrap up the conversation.
Now you see why I feel the need to pray so much!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Brush yo teef...
Have you ever been to the dentist as a patient with kids in tow? If you haven't, you should not start now. I put it in the same category as taking a road trip by yourself (Life is a Highway...)
Today, the boys and I had appointments for the dentist. Overall, we got good reports. No cavities! 29 years and counting for me! Ian has been referred to an orthodontist. We knew that was coming. His bottom teeth resemble those of a shark with multiple rows of permanent and baby teeth. I was referred to an oral surgeon for issues with my jaw (Josh says it's because I talk too much. Probably). That however, is not the story. It was the experience while at the dentist that warrants a story.
Luckily, I was able to leave Maggie at my neighbor's house for my appointment. On the way, I picked up Cole. I really didn't think taking all three boys with me was a big deal because usually when we go, they work on us at the same time so that we can all be finished together. That was not the case today. They didn't start my appointment until both boys were finished. Guess what that meant? I had all three boys in the room with me while Hillary was trying to clean my teeth. Joy.
I prefaced the moment with each of them before I even sat in the chair. No horsing around. There are thousands of dollars worth of equipment in there that could break. No touching me or trying to sit in my lap while I am in the chair. No talking loud. No fighting. No moving from their spot. Not even for the bathroom. Hillary turned on Phineas and Ferb. She gave them crayons and paper. We tried to be prepared. Basically, I expected them to sit like veggies until she was done with my teeth. Wishful thinking.
While I have always had super healthy teeth I don't really care to go the dentist. I haven't had any major dental work other than wisdom teeth extraction. No crowns. No root canals. Not even a filling. But I dread going. It is hard to sit there and have a "Conversation" with her while I can't actually do more than shake my head yes or no. I can't stand the way the gloves smell like raw venison. The tools look weird. And honestly, I think just the idea of people messing in my mouth grosses me out. But usually I am in and out. No biggie. Not today.
My gums have been giving me trouble ever since I was pregnant with Maggie. Apparently, she screwed up my hormones and as a result, I got eczema and weird gums. Awesome. So, the gums were going to get a little extra love today. Hillary takes out what seemed like a Drimmel tool (used to remove grout from tile) and went to work on my gums. My mouth is full of tools and water. I can't talk. I can't yell. I can't even really do anything but wince in pain. Will keeps coming over and looking in my mouth. He inspects Hillary's work and asks her a ton of questions. Maybe he wants to be a dentist when he grows up. He was THAT interested. A couple of times, he came up and shook my arm or belly when she had the shepard's hook in my mouth. I was certain that she was going to hook me in the mouth like a fish. My mouth was full of equipment and I can't say anything. So what do I do? I resort to snapping my fingers. Yep. Snapping them down. Real scary.
After the Drimmel was finally over and she finally felt compelled to put down the hook, she started pressure washing my teeth. Seriously that is what it feels like. She hands me safety glasses (Will got some too since he was all up in my mouth business) and she starts to polish my teeth with what felt like 80,000 PSI's of baking soda and water. Added bonus? My face gets all wet and the specks of baking soda are like an exfoliating facial. Complete with a handi-wipe.While all of this is going on, Ian and Cole are throwing a paper airplane around the room. Seriously. I start to snap. Maybe they can't hear me over the noise of the pressure washer so I start to kick my foot at them. Nothing. Hillary doesn't feel the need to draw their attention to me. I feel certain I will be writing a check for at least a computer when we leave. Fortunately, Cole needs a bathroom break from airplane tossing. Who cares if I told him not to go in the beginning. It stopped the air show.
Finally, she does my xrays so that we can see what the deal is with my jaw. The boys have to leave the room so they aren't showered with radiation. Will wandered into another patient's room and helped the Dr. inspect his teeth. They come in together to check out my xrays and examine my teeth. Will gets to put on gloves and count my teeth for me. He gives me an A-OK checkup and reminds me to "brush yo' teef." My dentist concurred....except for my jaw, of course. Will helped Hillary paint on the fluoride treatment for my teeth. He loved it! The kids got their little goody bags of treats and stickers. We made an appointment with the orthodontist for next week and managed to leave the building without breaking anything. And honestly, it didn't turn out all that bad. But, I promise, in 6 months, we won't be sharing appointments at the dentist. Not ever again.
Today, the boys and I had appointments for the dentist. Overall, we got good reports. No cavities! 29 years and counting for me! Ian has been referred to an orthodontist. We knew that was coming. His bottom teeth resemble those of a shark with multiple rows of permanent and baby teeth. I was referred to an oral surgeon for issues with my jaw (Josh says it's because I talk too much. Probably). That however, is not the story. It was the experience while at the dentist that warrants a story.
Luckily, I was able to leave Maggie at my neighbor's house for my appointment. On the way, I picked up Cole. I really didn't think taking all three boys with me was a big deal because usually when we go, they work on us at the same time so that we can all be finished together. That was not the case today. They didn't start my appointment until both boys were finished. Guess what that meant? I had all three boys in the room with me while Hillary was trying to clean my teeth. Joy.
I prefaced the moment with each of them before I even sat in the chair. No horsing around. There are thousands of dollars worth of equipment in there that could break. No touching me or trying to sit in my lap while I am in the chair. No talking loud. No fighting. No moving from their spot. Not even for the bathroom. Hillary turned on Phineas and Ferb. She gave them crayons and paper. We tried to be prepared. Basically, I expected them to sit like veggies until she was done with my teeth. Wishful thinking.
While I have always had super healthy teeth I don't really care to go the dentist. I haven't had any major dental work other than wisdom teeth extraction. No crowns. No root canals. Not even a filling. But I dread going. It is hard to sit there and have a "Conversation" with her while I can't actually do more than shake my head yes or no. I can't stand the way the gloves smell like raw venison. The tools look weird. And honestly, I think just the idea of people messing in my mouth grosses me out. But usually I am in and out. No biggie. Not today.
My gums have been giving me trouble ever since I was pregnant with Maggie. Apparently, she screwed up my hormones and as a result, I got eczema and weird gums. Awesome. So, the gums were going to get a little extra love today. Hillary takes out what seemed like a Drimmel tool (used to remove grout from tile) and went to work on my gums. My mouth is full of tools and water. I can't talk. I can't yell. I can't even really do anything but wince in pain. Will keeps coming over and looking in my mouth. He inspects Hillary's work and asks her a ton of questions. Maybe he wants to be a dentist when he grows up. He was THAT interested. A couple of times, he came up and shook my arm or belly when she had the shepard's hook in my mouth. I was certain that she was going to hook me in the mouth like a fish. My mouth was full of equipment and I can't say anything. So what do I do? I resort to snapping my fingers. Yep. Snapping them down. Real scary.
After the Drimmel was finally over and she finally felt compelled to put down the hook, she started pressure washing my teeth. Seriously that is what it feels like. She hands me safety glasses (Will got some too since he was all up in my mouth business) and she starts to polish my teeth with what felt like 80,000 PSI's of baking soda and water. Added bonus? My face gets all wet and the specks of baking soda are like an exfoliating facial. Complete with a handi-wipe.While all of this is going on, Ian and Cole are throwing a paper airplane around the room. Seriously. I start to snap. Maybe they can't hear me over the noise of the pressure washer so I start to kick my foot at them. Nothing. Hillary doesn't feel the need to draw their attention to me. I feel certain I will be writing a check for at least a computer when we leave. Fortunately, Cole needs a bathroom break from airplane tossing. Who cares if I told him not to go in the beginning. It stopped the air show.
Finally, she does my xrays so that we can see what the deal is with my jaw. The boys have to leave the room so they aren't showered with radiation. Will wandered into another patient's room and helped the Dr. inspect his teeth. They come in together to check out my xrays and examine my teeth. Will gets to put on gloves and count my teeth for me. He gives me an A-OK checkup and reminds me to "brush yo' teef." My dentist concurred....except for my jaw, of course. Will helped Hillary paint on the fluoride treatment for my teeth. He loved it! The kids got their little goody bags of treats and stickers. We made an appointment with the orthodontist for next week and managed to leave the building without breaking anything. And honestly, it didn't turn out all that bad. But, I promise, in 6 months, we won't be sharing appointments at the dentist. Not ever again.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Princess Maggie Moo
From the moment I found out I was pregnant with Maggie, I knew she was a girl. I can't explain it, but I did. I know a big part of it was just being hopeful. I had wanted Will to be a girl too. And he wasn't. And I cried.
Now, of course, I wouldn't have it be any other way.
But with Mags, I knew it from the instant that the test was positive. And immediately, her name was Margaret and she was going to love bows and dresses and baby dolls and high heel shoes and be every bit of the girly princess that I wanted her to be. She was not going to be Chrissy---my camouflage wearing, shotgun slinging, thunderchicken murdering sister. NEVER. In fact, I never really entertained the thought that she would be anything other than the image I created. My only true worry beyond her health was whether Will would like her.
He has always been a Momma's boy and he is only 26 months older than her. I knew for sure that he was going to believe that this little, tiny, wrinkly princess had wrecked his entire world. But then she was born and from the moment that he first held her in the hospital, he loved her dearly. His love for her is visceral. You can see it in the way he looks at her. When we got home from the hospital, I worried not that he would leave her outside on the front door step but instead squeeze her to death from love. He nicknamed her immediately as his "precious Lil' Maggie Moo" and "Mags." They stuck. He never wanted her to cry, he always wanted her to have whatever she wanted. "Momma, give Mags some boobie. She is starving!" He rocked her, sang to her, and devoted every spare moment to her happiness.
Today, if you ask him her full name, he will say, Margaret Princess Burgess. He believes with all of his heart that she is a princess and that she gets whatever she wants. Spoiled doesn't even begin to cover it. She lays in the floor kicking her feet until Will gives in to her. She barely has to screech before he asks her what it is that she desires. If she cries, he will come running and he is almost always the first to comfort her. If he cries in pain or sadness, she cries too in sympathy.
Don't get me wrong, I think it is sweet and I am so grateful that he loves her so deeply. I hope he always feels this love for her. However, his deep bond has created an interesting shift in the "perfect little princess" image I created in pregnancy. She will wear dresses and loves shoes. She totally has the diva princess attitude. But her girlishness stops there. She won't play with dolls. She doesn't want anything that resembles a girl toy. Give her a monster truck, matchbox car, or dump truck and she is happy. Mud? Sand? Loves them! I am pretty sure if I dressed her in camo and gave her a shotgun, she'd be sitting in a turkey blind by morning. Because she and Will have the unbreakable bond, she wants to be just as tough and tumble as he is. She wants to play ball, jump on the trampoline, and climb on tall things just. like. him. My girly princess is quickly becoming quite the little tomboy.
And while I do at least wish she liked baby dolls, all I really want is for her to grow up to be a strong, self-reliant, independent woman---whether she fancies tiaras or camo is really up to her. And I know that no matter what, she is going to have a big brother who always watches her back. This morning, I woke up with he and Maggie laying in between Josh and me. Will was singing a little tune he made up. It goes like this:
Maggie Moo, Maggie Moo
My baby sister, My baby sister
You mess with her, You mess with her
And I will punch you in the nose, yep, punch you in the nose.
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| She looked up to him from the beginning! |
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| Maggie is just a few days old here. And I found him just hanging out in the crib with her! |
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| And he was more than happy to show her monster trucks, even when sleeping! |
Friday, July 22, 2011
Blowing off Marcus Lattimore and Other Funnies...
It was an interesting week of trying to reprogram the little people after their time at Hana/Poppa and Aunt Munkey's houses last week. Either there were no rules while I was out of town or because I was gone for a week, I gave up my position of authority. There were a lot of time-outs and quiet time in the bedroom because the boys (and even Maggie) didn't want to listen. I imagine I was more strict than usual this week in an attempt to reassert myself as Top Dog.
On one occasion, I fussed at Ian and he responded by saying, "What is your problem?" Obviously, that didn't go over very well. At another point in the week, when I had enough of his smart mouth (I have no idea where he gets it), I sent him to his room for the night. He came back, on his knees, begging me for just "one more chance." He reminded me of George Bailey on the bridge asking the same of God in It's a Wonderful Life. I laughed. Out loud. I didn't mean to. I couldn't help myself. He was shocked that I laughed. After regaining my composure, I sent him back to his room.
Here are some other funny stories from the week:
Me: Will, why aren't you outside playing? Will: Because it is eleventy billion degress out there. Me: It's only 8:30 in the morning. It can't be that hot outside. Will: I don't care what Christy Henderson (our local meterologist) says. It is HOT out there.
Because it is too hot to play outside, Will and I are playing restraunt. Will is the waiter and I am the guest. Will: What do you want for dinner? Me: I would like a steak. Will: I don't have steak. Me: What do you mean? The sign says that this is a steakhouse. Will: Well we don't serve steak. Me: Well what do you serve? Will: Ummm...we serve wine. Lots and lots of wine. Do you want some? You look like you could use one or 47 glasses. Me: Why yes, I probably need 47 but I will take just one. He hurries back and brings me chocolate milk. Me: I thought you were bringing me wine? Will: I think its a fallibility (liability) for me to serve you 47 glasses so I thought chocolate milk was a much better idea. Later: Will: I brought you some milk-wine. Me: What is milk wine? Will: It's when you mix wine with your milk. It goes great with pancakes. Me: That is interesting. How does it taste? Will: How am I supposed to know? I'm not 21. Me: Oh you have to be 21 to drink milk wine? Will: Yep. You have to be 21 to drink milk wine, bud Wight Wimes, and the hard stuff. Me: What is the hard stuff? Will: You know. Mike's Hard Wemonade. (We don't drink Bud Light Lime or Mike's Hard Lemonade so obviously, the TV advertisements are working on him).
Ian: Mom, you are awesome! Me: Why do you say that? Ian: Just because. It is true. You are the coolest Mom I know. Me: Oh really? Ian: Yes, you are so awesome that I know you won't say No when I ask you to take me to Chick Fil A for lunch. Me: I am not as awesome as you think I am.
Will: Momma, you and Mags are so pretty. Me: Awe, thanks Willie. Will: Well you are. I love you, even though Mags is prettier than you. Me: Oh yeah? What makes her prettier? Will: Geez Mom, she is just a baby. That's why. AND, she doesn't have wrinkles on her eyes like you do.
We went bowling tonight. A few lanes over, Marcus Lattimore (stand-out runningback for the USC Gamecocks) is bowling with some friends. Friends that were with us got his autograph and their son, Cole, had his picture made with him. Once the ice was broken, nearly the entire bowling alley started going up to him doing the same. At one point, he decided to go around to the kids to offer his picture and autograph. It was the really stand-up thing to do. He was very gracious and humble (especially considering that he will eventually be in the NFL making millions). As Marcus made his way toward us, I asked Ian if he wanted to have his picture made with him and get an autograph. Ian: Doesn't he play for the Gamecocks? Me: Yes, he does. Ian: No way. I can't stand the Gamecocks. I don't care if he's famous. I am not having my picture made with him.
My children were the only ones in the entire place that didn't get a picture or autograph. And yes, they do bleed Clemson Orange.
On one occasion, I fussed at Ian and he responded by saying, "What is your problem?" Obviously, that didn't go over very well. At another point in the week, when I had enough of his smart mouth (I have no idea where he gets it), I sent him to his room for the night. He came back, on his knees, begging me for just "one more chance." He reminded me of George Bailey on the bridge asking the same of God in It's a Wonderful Life. I laughed. Out loud. I didn't mean to. I couldn't help myself. He was shocked that I laughed. After regaining my composure, I sent him back to his room.
Here are some other funny stories from the week:
Me: Will, why aren't you outside playing? Will: Because it is eleventy billion degress out there. Me: It's only 8:30 in the morning. It can't be that hot outside. Will: I don't care what Christy Henderson (our local meterologist) says. It is HOT out there.
Because it is too hot to play outside, Will and I are playing restraunt. Will is the waiter and I am the guest. Will: What do you want for dinner? Me: I would like a steak. Will: I don't have steak. Me: What do you mean? The sign says that this is a steakhouse. Will: Well we don't serve steak. Me: Well what do you serve? Will: Ummm...we serve wine. Lots and lots of wine. Do you want some? You look like you could use one or 47 glasses. Me: Why yes, I probably need 47 but I will take just one. He hurries back and brings me chocolate milk. Me: I thought you were bringing me wine? Will: I think its a fallibility (liability) for me to serve you 47 glasses so I thought chocolate milk was a much better idea. Later: Will: I brought you some milk-wine. Me: What is milk wine? Will: It's when you mix wine with your milk. It goes great with pancakes. Me: That is interesting. How does it taste? Will: How am I supposed to know? I'm not 21. Me: Oh you have to be 21 to drink milk wine? Will: Yep. You have to be 21 to drink milk wine, bud Wight Wimes, and the hard stuff. Me: What is the hard stuff? Will: You know. Mike's Hard Wemonade. (We don't drink Bud Light Lime or Mike's Hard Lemonade so obviously, the TV advertisements are working on him).
Ian: Mom, you are awesome! Me: Why do you say that? Ian: Just because. It is true. You are the coolest Mom I know. Me: Oh really? Ian: Yes, you are so awesome that I know you won't say No when I ask you to take me to Chick Fil A for lunch. Me: I am not as awesome as you think I am.
Will: Momma, you and Mags are so pretty. Me: Awe, thanks Willie. Will: Well you are. I love you, even though Mags is prettier than you. Me: Oh yeah? What makes her prettier? Will: Geez Mom, she is just a baby. That's why. AND, she doesn't have wrinkles on her eyes like you do.
We went bowling tonight. A few lanes over, Marcus Lattimore (stand-out runningback for the USC Gamecocks) is bowling with some friends. Friends that were with us got his autograph and their son, Cole, had his picture made with him. Once the ice was broken, nearly the entire bowling alley started going up to him doing the same. At one point, he decided to go around to the kids to offer his picture and autograph. It was the really stand-up thing to do. He was very gracious and humble (especially considering that he will eventually be in the NFL making millions). As Marcus made his way toward us, I asked Ian if he wanted to have his picture made with him and get an autograph. Ian: Doesn't he play for the Gamecocks? Me: Yes, he does. Ian: No way. I can't stand the Gamecocks. I don't care if he's famous. I am not having my picture made with him.
My children were the only ones in the entire place that didn't get a picture or autograph. And yes, they do bleed Clemson Orange.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Drinking the ZTA Kool-Aid...
I apologize deeply for the delay in returning to the blog. I had NO IDEA, how much work was going to be involved in getting the Burgess Bunch back on schedule after my time in Indiana. Whew! I have been exhausted! My wonderful husband cleaned the house while I was away--which was a nice treat--but it would have been even better had he folded the 31 loads of laundry. Washing is great---folding is better. But I am grateful. He is far better at housework than I am. And no, saying that doesn't cause him to lose points on his Man Card. It is a relief that one of us possesses those skills. If not, think Hoarders.
The little people apparently missed me. That is what Will has told me every day, at least 30 times a day, since I got back. Maggie has been sleeping on top of me at night, I imagine for fear I might escape again. Ian doesn't seem to care that I was gone. He hugged me when I got off the plane and promptly said, "Glad you're home. Now let's go eat some Mexicans." (The food, not the people). Attitude noted, I was more than happy to oblige. I was in need of some calories. ZTA said they had me on a 1,200 calorie a day diet. I was counting. I think only the chocolate cake that one day made me get to 1,200. This time, I only lost 5 pounds.
nh
After treats were handed over (the REAL reason they were all so excited to see me), Will asked the question. "Mom, why did you have to go to that ZTA thing?" He isn't the first one to ask me that question. I get it a lot. Mostly from non-greeks but even from ZTA's too. He can't read but if he could, I would show him the line that reads, "Zeta is Forever." He would totally get it then. But since he can't read, I am left to explain. I thought about telling him that it was because I got to stay in a hotel all week (it ain't the Ritz but the bed is comfy) and sleep by myself. And, I get to shower without little people peeking around the curtain to ask me to get them something.
But I knew that answer wouldn't do. I thought about telling him how I got to learn about new technology that makes me feel young and hip. Tweet Walls, Mingle Sticks, Live Voting Polls that appear right on the screen during a presentation. I could tell him how I am now on Twitter and have people 'following' me. I certainly wouldn't know about any of that without ZTA. Or I could tell him all about the Risk Reduction information I learned from Dr. Lori Hart. She always has great stories...none of which are age appropriate for a 3 year old. I could tell him about Yoplait (he loves yogurt), or Race for the Cure, or a multitude of other Think Pink activities. Hard to explain so I better show him those this year through action.
I thought about telling him how they asked the question "Are you in ZTA for something to do or in ZTA to DO something?" I wanted to tell him how I fall in the latter part. That the reason I am always going to ZTA meetings is because I do believe in the mission to enrich the lives of young women, to help them grow in their potential, to help them be better leaders and be of service to those around them. I share in the purpose to create a more noble womanhood in the world. I wanted to tell him about all of the wonderful women that I have had the opportunity to mentor and advise in ZTA. The ones that have grown to be remarkably strong women who happen to be doctors, lawyers, artists, humanitarians, and mothers. Of course, I am not responsible for their success but I am happy that I had a window to watch them grow. I wanted to say that some of the values that I teach him are ones I learned in ZTA. The Creed is something I live, not just something I learned.
But that would be too much for him. So instead, I said the thing that I knew that even in his young years, he could understand. "Will, I went to see my friends." My sisters. Because, in the end, the reason I stay involved in Zeta Tau Alpha all of these years later are the friendships I have made. From college and long after, the women that I have had the privilege to know because of ZTA have truly enriched my life. Had it not been for my involvement in ZTA in college and especially afterward, I wouldn't have had an opportunity to meet them. They mean the world to me. Have been such a strong inspiration and support to me. When life was grand and when it wasn't all that great. Whether they are 18 or 80, I know I can count on them. Always. Forever.
On the plane from Indianapolis, I sat behind former ZTA National President, Alice Matthews. Mrs. Matthews was President when I was initiated into ZTA. Cool, right? She told me me that she was involved in ZTA as a Province President with 3 small children, just like me. She understood that spending time doing things with ZTA made her a better mother. She understood. She gave me a great deal of encouragement, whether it was her intention or not. On that plane in that moment, she wasn't just a former national president. She was my sister.
So for my children, I want them to know that ZTA is important to me because She helped shape who I am. She instilled values about service, leadership, and love that I am not sure I would live the way I do without Her enriching influence. I don't know that I would always Seek the Noblest without Her guiding principles. But most of all, I know I wouldn't have the endearing friendships that I do without Her sisterhood. So I will continue to drink the ZTA kool-aid for years to come, not because I have to, but because when I do, I am a better mother, wife, sister, and friend. In short, I am a better Kimberly.
The little people apparently missed me. That is what Will has told me every day, at least 30 times a day, since I got back. Maggie has been sleeping on top of me at night, I imagine for fear I might escape again. Ian doesn't seem to care that I was gone. He hugged me when I got off the plane and promptly said, "Glad you're home. Now let's go eat some Mexicans." (The food, not the people). Attitude noted, I was more than happy to oblige. I was in need of some calories. ZTA said they had me on a 1,200 calorie a day diet. I was counting. I think only the chocolate cake that one day made me get to 1,200. This time, I only lost 5 pounds.
nh
After treats were handed over (the REAL reason they were all so excited to see me), Will asked the question. "Mom, why did you have to go to that ZTA thing?" He isn't the first one to ask me that question. I get it a lot. Mostly from non-greeks but even from ZTA's too. He can't read but if he could, I would show him the line that reads, "Zeta is Forever." He would totally get it then. But since he can't read, I am left to explain. I thought about telling him that it was because I got to stay in a hotel all week (it ain't the Ritz but the bed is comfy) and sleep by myself. And, I get to shower without little people peeking around the curtain to ask me to get them something.
But I knew that answer wouldn't do. I thought about telling him how I got to learn about new technology that makes me feel young and hip. Tweet Walls, Mingle Sticks, Live Voting Polls that appear right on the screen during a presentation. I could tell him how I am now on Twitter and have people 'following' me. I certainly wouldn't know about any of that without ZTA. Or I could tell him all about the Risk Reduction information I learned from Dr. Lori Hart. She always has great stories...none of which are age appropriate for a 3 year old. I could tell him about Yoplait (he loves yogurt), or Race for the Cure, or a multitude of other Think Pink activities. Hard to explain so I better show him those this year through action.
I thought about telling him how they asked the question "Are you in ZTA for something to do or in ZTA to DO something?" I wanted to tell him how I fall in the latter part. That the reason I am always going to ZTA meetings is because I do believe in the mission to enrich the lives of young women, to help them grow in their potential, to help them be better leaders and be of service to those around them. I share in the purpose to create a more noble womanhood in the world. I wanted to tell him about all of the wonderful women that I have had the opportunity to mentor and advise in ZTA. The ones that have grown to be remarkably strong women who happen to be doctors, lawyers, artists, humanitarians, and mothers. Of course, I am not responsible for their success but I am happy that I had a window to watch them grow. I wanted to say that some of the values that I teach him are ones I learned in ZTA. The Creed is something I live, not just something I learned.
But that would be too much for him. So instead, I said the thing that I knew that even in his young years, he could understand. "Will, I went to see my friends." My sisters. Because, in the end, the reason I stay involved in Zeta Tau Alpha all of these years later are the friendships I have made. From college and long after, the women that I have had the privilege to know because of ZTA have truly enriched my life. Had it not been for my involvement in ZTA in college and especially afterward, I wouldn't have had an opportunity to meet them. They mean the world to me. Have been such a strong inspiration and support to me. When life was grand and when it wasn't all that great. Whether they are 18 or 80, I know I can count on them. Always. Forever.
On the plane from Indianapolis, I sat behind former ZTA National President, Alice Matthews. Mrs. Matthews was President when I was initiated into ZTA. Cool, right? She told me me that she was involved in ZTA as a Province President with 3 small children, just like me. She understood that spending time doing things with ZTA made her a better mother. She understood. She gave me a great deal of encouragement, whether it was her intention or not. On that plane in that moment, she wasn't just a former national president. She was my sister.
So for my children, I want them to know that ZTA is important to me because She helped shape who I am. She instilled values about service, leadership, and love that I am not sure I would live the way I do without Her enriching influence. I don't know that I would always Seek the Noblest without Her guiding principles. But most of all, I know I wouldn't have the endearing friendships that I do without Her sisterhood. So I will continue to drink the ZTA kool-aid for years to come, not because I have to, but because when I do, I am a better mother, wife, sister, and friend. In short, I am a better Kimberly.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Leaving on a Jetplane...
The blog will be on hiatus next week. I am traveling to Indianapolis for Zeta Tau Alpha's National Leadership Conference. I am leaving the kids in the capable hands of my parents and sister. You should pray for them.
I deeply appreciate their willingness to take on all three kids while I am out of town. Chrissy originally volunteered to keep Maggie and April was going to keep the boys. But then, April was summoned for jury duty (of course!). Hope offered to keep the boys but I was worried Will might get homesick. Then Chrissy thought she could handle all three kids by herself. Ha. Ha. Ha. She is brave. To go from no kids to 3 kids is like deciding to jump out of a plane without a parachute. I knew she would need backup so Mom and Dad volunteered. Bless them. At least they have done this before.
Of course, I am going to miss them terribly but I know they will have a wonderful time while they are in the Lowcountry. Even though I won't get back from Indy until Sunday evening, their Dad is going to get the kids on Friday night. I don't want to push my luck with my family and honestly, too much of a good thing can be dangerous, right? Mom, Dad and Chrissy will at least need the weekend to recover.
So Chrissy, good luck. This will be the best birth control you will ever need. I promise. And just remember, this is a snapshot of what your life would be like if Josh and I meet an untimely demise. Let me know when I get back if I need to look for another guardian. (Hee Hee!)
Have a great week everyone!
I deeply appreciate their willingness to take on all three kids while I am out of town. Chrissy originally volunteered to keep Maggie and April was going to keep the boys. But then, April was summoned for jury duty (of course!). Hope offered to keep the boys but I was worried Will might get homesick. Then Chrissy thought she could handle all three kids by herself. Ha. Ha. Ha. She is brave. To go from no kids to 3 kids is like deciding to jump out of a plane without a parachute. I knew she would need backup so Mom and Dad volunteered. Bless them. At least they have done this before.
Of course, I am going to miss them terribly but I know they will have a wonderful time while they are in the Lowcountry. Even though I won't get back from Indy until Sunday evening, their Dad is going to get the kids on Friday night. I don't want to push my luck with my family and honestly, too much of a good thing can be dangerous, right? Mom, Dad and Chrissy will at least need the weekend to recover.
So Chrissy, good luck. This will be the best birth control you will ever need. I promise. And just remember, this is a snapshot of what your life would be like if Josh and I meet an untimely demise. Let me know when I get back if I need to look for another guardian. (Hee Hee!)
Have a great week everyone!
Friday, July 8, 2011
Booty licking and other funnies...
I haven't had a Friday night alone in a long time. I enjoyed a pedicure and a little shopping while Josh took the kids to his parents for a visit. Once I got home and the house was empty, I really didn't like being alone anymore. Those little people who never give me a minute's privacy, provide my life with a whole lot of excitement--so much so that when they aren't around, an empty house seems boring. Here are some funny and embarrassing stories from the week:
Will: I want to drive a motorcycle. Me: No way. They are too dangerous. Will: I know. That's what makes them awesome!
Will thinks he is Howie Mandel. He watches him on America's Got Talent and has started to mimic his fist bumps and the way he votes on the show. Every time I ask him a question he will respond with, "I think I'll say yes." Or "It's a Yes for me." Or "I'm gonna say No." Just what I need around here, a germaphobic comedian..
Will: Mom, I want some Cheetos. Me: Ask Daddy. I am grading papers. Will: Daddy said "no." That's why you have to change the answer to "yes."
Our neighbor Russ is poking fun at Ian while he rides his scooter. Ian: You are really starting to piss me off. Me: WHAT did you say? Ian: The "P" word. Me: Why did you say that? Ian: Mom, it's just an expression. Me: I am aware that it is an expression but you know better. Why did you say it? Ian: Because I couldn't think of a better word to use.
I always want my kids to be compassionate and empathetic towards others. Even though we talk a lot about it, sometimes, it takes an actual moment to better teach a lesson. Usually, those teaching moments are very embarrassing for me. Like when Ian was 5 and we were in Target. He saw a little person and asked them if he was like the Oompa Loompas from the Chocolate Factory. My face was more red than the shade they use at Target. Anyway, this week, I took Will to Kohl's. When we went to check out, we saw a woman with down syndrome. As the great niece and cousin of two wonderful men with down syndrome, I try to emphasize their similarities to us rather than their differences. Will, of course, was more interested in the latter. He said while pointing, "Mom, why does that lady look like that." I get right on his level and say, "Will, Honey, she has down syndrome. God made her that way. Even though she looks different, she is a special person just like me and you. Please don't point at people. We treat every one the way that we want to be treated, even if they look different than us." He thinks about that for a few seconds and says, "Why does she have a fat booty?" I could feel the color hit my face. "Will, that is just part of the way that God made her." He thinks a little more, "I get that she has syndrome but why did God make her with a fat booty?" God bless her, she turned around and said, "I wonder that all the time myself!"
Will put himself in Time Out after he accidentally knocked Maggie over. He was upset that he might have hurt her. For all of his deviousness, he loves his Princess. When I went to let him know she was OK, he said, "Why do you always gotta be bothering me? I am in my quiet spot." Maybe I should keep him there all day.
Maggie is in the early stages of potty training. She has pretty much stopped wearing diapers around the house and opts for training panties. She is also very interested in running from you as soon as you take her clothes off and instead likes to streak through the house naked, laughing at the top of her lungs. If you chase behind her, the game is even more fantastic. So this morning, she is streaking through the house and I hear Ian yell, "Ewwww, Will. Don't lick Maggie on the butt cheek." Will, who is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, says, "I thought about biting her but licking her was waaaaay more funny." Poor Mags.
Will: I want to drive a motorcycle. Me: No way. They are too dangerous. Will: I know. That's what makes them awesome!
Will thinks he is Howie Mandel. He watches him on America's Got Talent and has started to mimic his fist bumps and the way he votes on the show. Every time I ask him a question he will respond with, "I think I'll say yes." Or "It's a Yes for me." Or "I'm gonna say No." Just what I need around here, a germaphobic comedian..
Will: Mom, I want some Cheetos. Me: Ask Daddy. I am grading papers. Will: Daddy said "no." That's why you have to change the answer to "yes."
Our neighbor Russ is poking fun at Ian while he rides his scooter. Ian: You are really starting to piss me off. Me: WHAT did you say? Ian: The "P" word. Me: Why did you say that? Ian: Mom, it's just an expression. Me: I am aware that it is an expression but you know better. Why did you say it? Ian: Because I couldn't think of a better word to use.
I always want my kids to be compassionate and empathetic towards others. Even though we talk a lot about it, sometimes, it takes an actual moment to better teach a lesson. Usually, those teaching moments are very embarrassing for me. Like when Ian was 5 and we were in Target. He saw a little person and asked them if he was like the Oompa Loompas from the Chocolate Factory. My face was more red than the shade they use at Target. Anyway, this week, I took Will to Kohl's. When we went to check out, we saw a woman with down syndrome. As the great niece and cousin of two wonderful men with down syndrome, I try to emphasize their similarities to us rather than their differences. Will, of course, was more interested in the latter. He said while pointing, "Mom, why does that lady look like that." I get right on his level and say, "Will, Honey, she has down syndrome. God made her that way. Even though she looks different, she is a special person just like me and you. Please don't point at people. We treat every one the way that we want to be treated, even if they look different than us." He thinks about that for a few seconds and says, "Why does she have a fat booty?" I could feel the color hit my face. "Will, that is just part of the way that God made her." He thinks a little more, "I get that she has syndrome but why did God make her with a fat booty?" God bless her, she turned around and said, "I wonder that all the time myself!"
Will put himself in Time Out after he accidentally knocked Maggie over. He was upset that he might have hurt her. For all of his deviousness, he loves his Princess. When I went to let him know she was OK, he said, "Why do you always gotta be bothering me? I am in my quiet spot." Maybe I should keep him there all day.
Maggie is in the early stages of potty training. She has pretty much stopped wearing diapers around the house and opts for training panties. She is also very interested in running from you as soon as you take her clothes off and instead likes to streak through the house naked, laughing at the top of her lungs. If you chase behind her, the game is even more fantastic. So this morning, she is streaking through the house and I hear Ian yell, "Ewwww, Will. Don't lick Maggie on the butt cheek." Will, who is laughing so hard he can barely breathe, says, "I thought about biting her but licking her was waaaaay more funny." Poor Mags.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Explaining the Why's
If you have older kids, you under stand the Why stage. If you haven't hit it yet, get ready. It is honestly my least favorite stage (I know adolescence will make the Why stage seem like fairyland). Ian hit the Whys at around 4.5 or 5. Will is there, in full throttle.
He asks me about everything. Why does Daddy have 2 trucks? Why does Maggie not have a wee-wee? Why is Molly called a chocolate lab instead of a brown lab? Why is your belly fat? Why do crayons smell funny? Why do you wash the dishes like that? Why are your eyes green and mine are blue? Why do you shave your legs? Why do you like Diet Coke so much? Why is God in heaven? Why does Daddy have to go to work? The list can go on and on and on.
The hard part about the Why stage is that an answer, truthful or not, really doesn't satisfy the question. You guessed it, it leads to another question. It boils down to curiosity and I am so grateful that he is so curious about everything. Really. I am.
Sometimes, it is hard to find honest answers to questions without saying too much, too soon (Remember TAMPAX?) or even having an answer at all. This week, Will has had a lot of questions about subjects I really don't want to talk about--Casey Anthony--mostly because Ian has asked me a lot about it. How do you explain to a child why a mother would hurt her own child? That is unexplainable even to me. And then today, we were driving home when we witnessed a train collide with a truck that tried to outrun the crossing rails. (The driver was able to escape unharmed). Will was pretty traumatized from seeing it happen. I was too. For me personally, it brought back memories of an awful tragedy of my sister's friend Casey Heisenbuttle, who died after her truck collided with a train. She was just 15. Will kept asking me why the accident happened? I didn't have an answer to satisfy him.
After the train incident today, I read a blog entry from one of my favorite bloggers Angie Smith (if you have never read Angie's blog, Bring the Rain, you should. Reading the story about the diagnosis in vitro and loss of her daughter Audrey will change your life. I really mean that). The recent post was about always wanting to know the why without remembering the Who. She suggests that we always want to know why things happen the way they do without really remembering Who is in control of those events. God of course. And in the end, the Who is all that matters. Today, her post brought me a lot of comfort. Not just from the emotional memories of Casey, but comfort in knowing that I don't really have to know all of the answers to the Why questions. A lot of answers to the why questions are "Because God made them that way." In other moments, when I don't know the answer, I just pray for guidance.
In parenting, I think it is important to admit that we don't know all the answers. Giving "I don't know " as the response to "Why little boys can't fly" or "Why fireworks smell so bad" will help condition them (and you) for the future. It will be the go to response you need when they ask "Why are you so mean?" and Why do you want to ruin my life?" or "Why can't I stay out until 4 in the morning?" Maybe this Why stage isn't so bad afterall.
He asks me about everything. Why does Daddy have 2 trucks? Why does Maggie not have a wee-wee? Why is Molly called a chocolate lab instead of a brown lab? Why is your belly fat? Why do crayons smell funny? Why do you wash the dishes like that? Why are your eyes green and mine are blue? Why do you shave your legs? Why do you like Diet Coke so much? Why is God in heaven? Why does Daddy have to go to work? The list can go on and on and on.
The hard part about the Why stage is that an answer, truthful or not, really doesn't satisfy the question. You guessed it, it leads to another question. It boils down to curiosity and I am so grateful that he is so curious about everything. Really. I am.
Sometimes, it is hard to find honest answers to questions without saying too much, too soon (Remember TAMPAX?) or even having an answer at all. This week, Will has had a lot of questions about subjects I really don't want to talk about--Casey Anthony--mostly because Ian has asked me a lot about it. How do you explain to a child why a mother would hurt her own child? That is unexplainable even to me. And then today, we were driving home when we witnessed a train collide with a truck that tried to outrun the crossing rails. (The driver was able to escape unharmed). Will was pretty traumatized from seeing it happen. I was too. For me personally, it brought back memories of an awful tragedy of my sister's friend Casey Heisenbuttle, who died after her truck collided with a train. She was just 15. Will kept asking me why the accident happened? I didn't have an answer to satisfy him.
After the train incident today, I read a blog entry from one of my favorite bloggers Angie Smith (if you have never read Angie's blog, Bring the Rain, you should. Reading the story about the diagnosis in vitro and loss of her daughter Audrey will change your life. I really mean that). The recent post was about always wanting to know the why without remembering the Who. She suggests that we always want to know why things happen the way they do without really remembering Who is in control of those events. God of course. And in the end, the Who is all that matters. Today, her post brought me a lot of comfort. Not just from the emotional memories of Casey, but comfort in knowing that I don't really have to know all of the answers to the Why questions. A lot of answers to the why questions are "Because God made them that way." In other moments, when I don't know the answer, I just pray for guidance.
In parenting, I think it is important to admit that we don't know all the answers. Giving "I don't know " as the response to "Why little boys can't fly" or "Why fireworks smell so bad" will help condition them (and you) for the future. It will be the go to response you need when they ask "Why are you so mean?" and Why do you want to ruin my life?" or "Why can't I stay out until 4 in the morning?" Maybe this Why stage isn't so bad afterall.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
The Waffle House
My kids think they live at Waffle House, where they can order anything they want off of the menu at any time of the day they please. And to make matters worse, all three of my kids LOVE to eat. "EAT, EAAATTT, EAAATTT MOOOORE" is Maggie's favorite saying, in fact. Just trying to keep up with the dishes that come with their orders is a full time job. And honestly, I know I am blessed to have 3 children that love food. I have plenty of friends that aren't so lucky. As the daughter of a farmer, we always have plenty of food around but I often wonder that if they eat this much now, how am I ever going to be able to afford to feed them?
On most days, I cook three different breakfasts at three different times, according to when they wake up. Ian is (and has always been) an early riser. Sometimes, he is up at 5:30am. Ugh. And he wants to eat as soon as his feet hit the floor. This morning, he wanted cereal. That is not hard to manage. Then Maggie woke up and she wanted a banana, oatmeal, and some jelly toast. Done. Will woke up shortly after but he is more of a brunch kid. So when I started his breakfast at 9:30, Ian and Maggie were hungry again since they had been up a while. I made blueberry pancakes for all of them. It seemed like as soon as I got the kitchen cleaned up, they were ready for lunch. Cole was here so that meant another order to take. In all, I made 3 ham sandwiches, 4 hotdogs, supplied 3 kids with sun chips, one with cheetos, Maggie ate some watermelon, Cole ate grape tomatoes, and I made myself a salad. PHEW!
Not even an hour later, Will comes to me begging for a snack. Over time, I have learned this is often a ploy for junk and not really because he is hungry. I offered fruit or veggies as an option and suddenly, he wasn't ready for a snack afterall. But an hour later, he really was. They ate some fruit, some tomatoes, and some wheat thins. And hour after that, I discovered that Will busted the child lock off of the "junk" cabinet and provided nutty bars and oatmeal creme pies to himself, Ian and Cole while I was rocking Maggie. The empty wrappers and busted lock were the only evidence.
By 5:30, all three boys were claiming they were "starving" and needed supper. I served spaghetti at 6:00. Will ate a salad with his meal. Ian ate three helpings of supper while Cole and Will each had 2 plates. Where do they put it? I mean, they are all active kids. Other than a few cartoons in the morning over breakfast and reading time during the day, they are outside playing. I realize that burns a lot of calories but really, that much? And I admit, I am completely jealous of their metabolism. I can't even dream of eating like they do. But their healthy appetites do worry me. They are all skinny now but bad habits start early and I worry that they will always think they can eat like this. They won't. Every time I bring it up with the pediatrician (every 3 months when I go to Maggie's well-check), she assures me to be grateful that they eat well. "Kimberly, no one EVER complains to me that their kids eat too much." And that might be true. However, she isn't playing waitress of a 24 hour diner with three little people that NEVER leave a tip!
On most days, I cook three different breakfasts at three different times, according to when they wake up. Ian is (and has always been) an early riser. Sometimes, he is up at 5:30am. Ugh. And he wants to eat as soon as his feet hit the floor. This morning, he wanted cereal. That is not hard to manage. Then Maggie woke up and she wanted a banana, oatmeal, and some jelly toast. Done. Will woke up shortly after but he is more of a brunch kid. So when I started his breakfast at 9:30, Ian and Maggie were hungry again since they had been up a while. I made blueberry pancakes for all of them. It seemed like as soon as I got the kitchen cleaned up, they were ready for lunch. Cole was here so that meant another order to take. In all, I made 3 ham sandwiches, 4 hotdogs, supplied 3 kids with sun chips, one with cheetos, Maggie ate some watermelon, Cole ate grape tomatoes, and I made myself a salad. PHEW!
Not even an hour later, Will comes to me begging for a snack. Over time, I have learned this is often a ploy for junk and not really because he is hungry. I offered fruit or veggies as an option and suddenly, he wasn't ready for a snack afterall. But an hour later, he really was. They ate some fruit, some tomatoes, and some wheat thins. And hour after that, I discovered that Will busted the child lock off of the "junk" cabinet and provided nutty bars and oatmeal creme pies to himself, Ian and Cole while I was rocking Maggie. The empty wrappers and busted lock were the only evidence.
By 5:30, all three boys were claiming they were "starving" and needed supper. I served spaghetti at 6:00. Will ate a salad with his meal. Ian ate three helpings of supper while Cole and Will each had 2 plates. Where do they put it? I mean, they are all active kids. Other than a few cartoons in the morning over breakfast and reading time during the day, they are outside playing. I realize that burns a lot of calories but really, that much? And I admit, I am completely jealous of their metabolism. I can't even dream of eating like they do. But their healthy appetites do worry me. They are all skinny now but bad habits start early and I worry that they will always think they can eat like this. They won't. Every time I bring it up with the pediatrician (every 3 months when I go to Maggie's well-check), she assures me to be grateful that they eat well. "Kimberly, no one EVER complains to me that their kids eat too much." And that might be true. However, she isn't playing waitress of a 24 hour diner with three little people that NEVER leave a tip!
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| Watermelon! |
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| I told you I could eat this whole slushy! |
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| Yummy Pizza! |
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
The Importance of Being Honest...
Have you ever been lied to? It hurts, right? When your 3 year old is the one doing the lying, I think it hurts a little more. How could I raise a child capable of such twisted tales? How could he figure out to be deceptive at such a young age? He is, afterall, only 3. But then I remember, this is Will we are talking about.
Will and Ian came inside from playing in the backyard. After 5 minutes, they were "dying." Ian asked me to read with him. Will retreated to the playroom. Maggie was closely behind. As Ian and I were reading, I noticed that Will and Maggie were quiet---too quiet. I called to him and asked what he was doing. "Playing with trucks" came the response. I then heard a couple of trucks knock together. I went back to reading with Ian. A few minutes later, Will came to the kitchen and grabbed the baby wipes off the counter. I inquired as to why he needed wipes. He responded, "Maggie needs me to wipe her shirt." I asked him to put the wipes back on the counter, fearing that he would pull them all out of the container. I assumed he was actually cleaning his monster trucks. If only that were the case.
When Will returned the wipes to the counter, I noticed he was doing it quickly and trying to stay out of my sight. Obviously, knowing him like I do, I knew something was up. I went to him and noticed that he had something on his hands--it looked like marker but he had done a pretty good job wiping it off with the baby wipes. On closer inspection, I realized he smelled like paint. Maggie walked in from the playroom and I realized she had played his canvas. My reaction was to ask "Will, why on Earth did you paint your sister?" He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Maggie told me to." Now, Maggie is very bright and she knows a lot of words. "Bubba, please paint me" is not among them.
I took Maggie to the bathroom and got her cleaned off (before thinking to take a picture). I then went to the playroom to discover that Will used my ironing board to climb up on the counter, and get into the cabinet where I keep all of the paints. In his defense, he did use a piece of paper as a palette for all of his paint selections and a brush to complete his artistic creation on his sister. The mess was actually minimal. I was not shocked or suprised at his level of mischief. Afterall, this is Will. I was however, very taken aback by his lies and his willingness to deceive me. That is not Will's style. He is not ashamed to tell me that he is bad. Normally, he would present his Masterpiece Maggie to me, proud of his genuis. Not today. He didn't even try to use John Payton as a scapegoat.
After everyone was clean, I sat Will down on the couch to ask him why he felt the need to lie to me about what he had done. "I can't spell the words" was his response. When I told him he could tell me, he simply remained silent. I then went on to tell him that being honest was the most important thing he could ever be, it was the most important virtue he could ever have. I gave him the lecture on The Boy Who Cried Wolf and added our house rule that if you lie, you get in twice as much trouble as if you are honest about your indiscretion. No reaction. So then, I pulled out the big guns. "Will, I am extremely disappointed in you for lying to me and for painting your sister." And there came the waterworks. I told him I loved him but I was disappointed and he was going to room. Miserable wails came from his room. "I waaaant myyyyy Maggie Moo...I want my Maggie" came in between sobs. After 10 minutes, I went in there to reinterate the lesson and he immediately cleared his tears, as if on cue. We talked about the dangers of lying and then I told him he had to stay in his room for 20 more minutes. He ended up staying for 2 hours because all of that art made him tired and he needed a nap.
When I returned from Will's room after the lecture, Ian said, "Watching you punish Will was painful. It made me want to cry. I mean, he deserved it, but it sure was tough to see that." I said, "Ian, it was a lot harder for me to punish him. I don't like having to be mean but my job is to teach you right from wrong." Ian said, "I know and lying is bad. Someone should have taught Casey Anthony about being honest." And he is right. We probably don't honor honesty as much as we should anymore. Lying has become commonplace in a lot of areas in our society. However, it won't be tolerated as a norm in the Burgess house. I think if we strive to do anything, the least that we can do is be honest--Whether it is testifying before a jury or telling our Mom that we just painted our baby sister. There is a lot of importance in being honest.
Will and Ian came inside from playing in the backyard. After 5 minutes, they were "dying." Ian asked me to read with him. Will retreated to the playroom. Maggie was closely behind. As Ian and I were reading, I noticed that Will and Maggie were quiet---too quiet. I called to him and asked what he was doing. "Playing with trucks" came the response. I then heard a couple of trucks knock together. I went back to reading with Ian. A few minutes later, Will came to the kitchen and grabbed the baby wipes off the counter. I inquired as to why he needed wipes. He responded, "Maggie needs me to wipe her shirt." I asked him to put the wipes back on the counter, fearing that he would pull them all out of the container. I assumed he was actually cleaning his monster trucks. If only that were the case.
When Will returned the wipes to the counter, I noticed he was doing it quickly and trying to stay out of my sight. Obviously, knowing him like I do, I knew something was up. I went to him and noticed that he had something on his hands--it looked like marker but he had done a pretty good job wiping it off with the baby wipes. On closer inspection, I realized he smelled like paint. Maggie walked in from the playroom and I realized she had played his canvas. My reaction was to ask "Will, why on Earth did you paint your sister?" He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Maggie told me to." Now, Maggie is very bright and she knows a lot of words. "Bubba, please paint me" is not among them.
I took Maggie to the bathroom and got her cleaned off (before thinking to take a picture). I then went to the playroom to discover that Will used my ironing board to climb up on the counter, and get into the cabinet where I keep all of the paints. In his defense, he did use a piece of paper as a palette for all of his paint selections and a brush to complete his artistic creation on his sister. The mess was actually minimal. I was not shocked or suprised at his level of mischief. Afterall, this is Will. I was however, very taken aback by his lies and his willingness to deceive me. That is not Will's style. He is not ashamed to tell me that he is bad. Normally, he would present his Masterpiece Maggie to me, proud of his genuis. Not today. He didn't even try to use John Payton as a scapegoat.
After everyone was clean, I sat Will down on the couch to ask him why he felt the need to lie to me about what he had done. "I can't spell the words" was his response. When I told him he could tell me, he simply remained silent. I then went on to tell him that being honest was the most important thing he could ever be, it was the most important virtue he could ever have. I gave him the lecture on The Boy Who Cried Wolf and added our house rule that if you lie, you get in twice as much trouble as if you are honest about your indiscretion. No reaction. So then, I pulled out the big guns. "Will, I am extremely disappointed in you for lying to me and for painting your sister." And there came the waterworks. I told him I loved him but I was disappointed and he was going to room. Miserable wails came from his room. "I waaaant myyyyy Maggie Moo...I want my Maggie" came in between sobs. After 10 minutes, I went in there to reinterate the lesson and he immediately cleared his tears, as if on cue. We talked about the dangers of lying and then I told him he had to stay in his room for 20 more minutes. He ended up staying for 2 hours because all of that art made him tired and he needed a nap.
When I returned from Will's room after the lecture, Ian said, "Watching you punish Will was painful. It made me want to cry. I mean, he deserved it, but it sure was tough to see that." I said, "Ian, it was a lot harder for me to punish him. I don't like having to be mean but my job is to teach you right from wrong." Ian said, "I know and lying is bad. Someone should have taught Casey Anthony about being honest." And he is right. We probably don't honor honesty as much as we should anymore. Lying has become commonplace in a lot of areas in our society. However, it won't be tolerated as a norm in the Burgess house. I think if we strive to do anything, the least that we can do is be honest--Whether it is testifying before a jury or telling our Mom that we just painted our baby sister. There is a lot of importance in being honest.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Celebrating America's Birthday
We have had a wonderful weekend full of lots of food, friends and family celebrating America's birthday! The kids have played in the water and witnessed plenty of fireworks---and the best part is that we still have another round of fun and fireworks tomorrow! That is why I love summer. Tonight, we grilled steaks with our neighbors across the street (who were kind enough to let us tag along to their celebration yesterday in Williamston). After supper, the kids played out on the slip-n-slide. (See video http://www.facebook.com/#!/video/video.php?v=518771417781&comments) When it was getting dark, Will and I went down the street to get his "sweet girlfriend" Madi to watch the fireworks show presented to us by Josh and Russ.
We put a blanket out for all the kids and they were chatting, laughing and chasing fireflies until the show started. Russ or Josh would come over and whisper the name of the firework to one of the kids, "Butterflies and flowers" or "Southern Dreams" or "Jade Showers," and that child would stand up and announce the name of the display to the entire crowd. Everyone would cheer with delight when the fuse was lit. Josh and Russ would get either a standing ovation or a loud clammer of "Boo's" depending on the vitality and color that the fireworks would emit. In the end, the crowd was satisfied with the presentation.
Maggie loves fireworks. She would squeal, clap and shake with excitement each time they would light up. It was so fun to watch her. And honestly, she has been so fun to watch all weekend---The way she devoured watermelon, slid down the slide at the pool, and watched the big fireworks display in Williamston last night was just pure fun. My favorite part of parenting is to live through the eyes of my children. To get small glimpses into how they see the world. Their perspectives always check my own. And from my perch tonight, I couldn't help but notice the American flag in my yard. There is no way I could explain to my kids how very blessed we are to live in America. For all the things that are wrong with our government, there is something so spectaculary wonderful that we live in a country that provides us with so many freedoms. Like the freedom to share such an incredible weekend like this with my family.
Check out all of our pictures from this weekend on my Facebook page in the album labeled "Sweet Summa."
And above all else, remember during all of the fun of this weekend to pray for all of our troops who sacrifice so much for our freedom. Happy 235th Birthday, America! May you stand forever as a beacon of freedom and liberty---and may we always know that what unites us is far more remarkable than what divides us. God Bless America!
We put a blanket out for all the kids and they were chatting, laughing and chasing fireflies until the show started. Russ or Josh would come over and whisper the name of the firework to one of the kids, "Butterflies and flowers" or "Southern Dreams" or "Jade Showers," and that child would stand up and announce the name of the display to the entire crowd. Everyone would cheer with delight when the fuse was lit. Josh and Russ would get either a standing ovation or a loud clammer of "Boo's" depending on the vitality and color that the fireworks would emit. In the end, the crowd was satisfied with the presentation.
Maggie loves fireworks. She would squeal, clap and shake with excitement each time they would light up. It was so fun to watch her. And honestly, she has been so fun to watch all weekend---The way she devoured watermelon, slid down the slide at the pool, and watched the big fireworks display in Williamston last night was just pure fun. My favorite part of parenting is to live through the eyes of my children. To get small glimpses into how they see the world. Their perspectives always check my own. And from my perch tonight, I couldn't help but notice the American flag in my yard. There is no way I could explain to my kids how very blessed we are to live in America. For all the things that are wrong with our government, there is something so spectaculary wonderful that we live in a country that provides us with so many freedoms. Like the freedom to share such an incredible weekend like this with my family.
Check out all of our pictures from this weekend on my Facebook page in the album labeled "Sweet Summa."
And above all else, remember during all of the fun of this weekend to pray for all of our troops who sacrifice so much for our freedom. Happy 235th Birthday, America! May you stand forever as a beacon of freedom and liberty---and may we always know that what unites us is far more remarkable than what divides us. God Bless America!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Getting Punked and Other Funnies...
The kids say and do funny things all day long so it is sometimes hard for me to capture their entire humor on the blog. Below is a compilation of some of the funny conversations we have had and funny things they did this week...
--I have been trying to teach Will another blessing besides his constant, "God made me, Amen." So I have been singing "Oh the Lord is good to me and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, like the sun and the rain and the apple seeds, Oh the Lord is good to me, Amen!" However, after "like" I have a bad habit of changing the words, to things like "lysol, clorox, and Mr. Clean" or "Ian, William, and Maggie" or "corn, potatoes and broccoli", etc. This morning, Will was singing along with me and when I got to "like" he said, "Mom, how do you ever expect me to learn this blessing if you keep changing the words? And you wonder why I only say one prayer. God Made Me, AMEN!"
--Driving down the road, I tell Ian about a friend who had her baby. Will asks if I was having another baby. Me: Would you like me to have another baby? Will: Yes. I want you to have a bunch, a bunch, a bunch of babies. Ian: Um...NO. N-O spells NO. No more babies. 3 is enough! Will: No I want more babies. I love babies! Me: Would you want a boy or girl baby? Will: A boy baby. I already have a girl baby. Me: What would you name the baby? Will: City Gorilla. Ian: Exactly why WE aren't having any more babies! (And just FYI, we aren't planning to add any more babies!)
--At the store, a man stops us and says, "Where on Earth did you get that pretty baby?" Will (looking at the man like he was silly for having to ask the question): From God. She is our princess. Ain't she a cute priss? The man replies, "Yes. And you are pretty cute yourself." Will says, "Yep. I'm a handful."
--I go out to the storage shed to look for something. I am not gone even 3 minutes. When I come in, Will is standing on the kitchen table, wearing his underwear and a Santa Hat and carrying a play chainsaw. He is screaming, "Ho, Ho, Ho...Bad Santa, coming for you..." Maggie is squealing with delight and saying, "Ho, Ho, Ho!" When I left the house, Will was fully clothed and looking at a book.
-- I open the cabinet in the kitchen and all of the tupperware topples over onto my head. Ian jumps out from behind the chair and says, "You just got PUNKED!" Who gave him access to MTV? When he sees I am not laughing, he says, "Mom do you even know what it means to get punked?" "Why yes Ian, I do. I am just wondering how you know?" With a large smile he responds, "'Cause I am a genius!"
--Will: Mom, did you know that Maggie doesn't have a wee-wee? Me: Yes, Will. Girls don't have wee-wees. Will: Why not? Me: Because God made them that way. Will: Well, I am not sure why God thought a tootie (his word, not mine) was a good idea for a girl. Me: What do you mean? Will: Well, Mom, how is Maggie ever gonna learn to pee-pee in the yard if she has a tootie? She doesn't have anything to stick out. Me: I don't think Maggie will want to pee pee in the yard. Girls don't do that. Will: Well she is going to be missing out because when you have a wee wee, you can pee in a bottle...in a jar...in the yard..out the window...through the deck.. Ian: Yep, the possibilities are endless. Me: I think she will be OK. Will: I don't think she will. So, so sad.
--I have been trying to teach Will another blessing besides his constant, "God made me, Amen." So I have been singing "Oh the Lord is good to me and so I thank the Lord, for giving me the things I need, like the sun and the rain and the apple seeds, Oh the Lord is good to me, Amen!" However, after "like" I have a bad habit of changing the words, to things like "lysol, clorox, and Mr. Clean" or "Ian, William, and Maggie" or "corn, potatoes and broccoli", etc. This morning, Will was singing along with me and when I got to "like" he said, "Mom, how do you ever expect me to learn this blessing if you keep changing the words? And you wonder why I only say one prayer. God Made Me, AMEN!"
--Driving down the road, I tell Ian about a friend who had her baby. Will asks if I was having another baby. Me: Would you like me to have another baby? Will: Yes. I want you to have a bunch, a bunch, a bunch of babies. Ian: Um...NO. N-O spells NO. No more babies. 3 is enough! Will: No I want more babies. I love babies! Me: Would you want a boy or girl baby? Will: A boy baby. I already have a girl baby. Me: What would you name the baby? Will: City Gorilla. Ian: Exactly why WE aren't having any more babies! (And just FYI, we aren't planning to add any more babies!)
--At the store, a man stops us and says, "Where on Earth did you get that pretty baby?" Will (looking at the man like he was silly for having to ask the question): From God. She is our princess. Ain't she a cute priss? The man replies, "Yes. And you are pretty cute yourself." Will says, "Yep. I'm a handful."
--I go out to the storage shed to look for something. I am not gone even 3 minutes. When I come in, Will is standing on the kitchen table, wearing his underwear and a Santa Hat and carrying a play chainsaw. He is screaming, "Ho, Ho, Ho...Bad Santa, coming for you..." Maggie is squealing with delight and saying, "Ho, Ho, Ho!" When I left the house, Will was fully clothed and looking at a book.
-- I open the cabinet in the kitchen and all of the tupperware topples over onto my head. Ian jumps out from behind the chair and says, "You just got PUNKED!" Who gave him access to MTV? When he sees I am not laughing, he says, "Mom do you even know what it means to get punked?" "Why yes Ian, I do. I am just wondering how you know?" With a large smile he responds, "'Cause I am a genius!"
--Will: Mom, did you know that Maggie doesn't have a wee-wee? Me: Yes, Will. Girls don't have wee-wees. Will: Why not? Me: Because God made them that way. Will: Well, I am not sure why God thought a tootie (his word, not mine) was a good idea for a girl. Me: What do you mean? Will: Well, Mom, how is Maggie ever gonna learn to pee-pee in the yard if she has a tootie? She doesn't have anything to stick out. Me: I don't think Maggie will want to pee pee in the yard. Girls don't do that. Will: Well she is going to be missing out because when you have a wee wee, you can pee in a bottle...in a jar...in the yard..out the window...through the deck.. Ian: Yep, the possibilities are endless. Me: I think she will be OK. Will: I don't think she will. So, so sad.
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