Brotherly Love

The best part of my 4th of July was this:

Could they be any cuter?!  I love that these two love each other.  They melt my heart!

A Prime Example of Why Men Can Be Hard to Live With

Tonight, while sitting next to Evan on the couch, I noticed that his toenails had grown to an amazing length. The following conversation ensued:

Me: Evan, you really need to cut your toenails tonight.

Evan: Can't do that Mom. I need them. They're good tools.

Me: (Very puzzled but trying to keep up) Tools? Give me an example.

Evan: Every night when I'm sweeping the kitchen floor, I use my toenails to scrape stuck pieces of food off the floor so I can sweep the stuck pieces up.

Jeff: (Completely serious) Makes sense to me. Let the kid keep his toenails.

Me: (Speechless) ....

Ouch!

Monday was not a fun day around these parts.

At about 10:00 that morning, while I was teaching Reading, Charlie's preschool teacher walked into my room with my little guy. Charlie had a big gash on his forehead, which was bleeding profusely. His class had been playing on the playground, where Charlie somehow either walked into or fell into the bottom side of a metal stair tread. (No one actually saw it happen, and all Charlie will say is that he hit his head on the stairs).

I could tell right away he needed stitches (round 2 of stitches for Charlie-he is SUCH a boy!) so we zipped off to the pediatrician's office. While we were sitting in the waiting room, Charlie started to get very drowsy, and his pupils became dilated. As we were walking into the exam room, the nurse noticed that he was very wobbly, and walking like a drunk man. Dr. B looked him over, declared he needed three stitches, and that Charlie also had a mild concussion.

It was a tough session in the pediatrician's office for both Charlie and I, which included more than a few tears from both of us.

By dinner time that night, he was feeling a little more himself, and was loving showing off his cool flag band aid to Daddy.

Not to be outdone by his big brother, Sammy decided to get his own head injury tonight while we were playing outside. He had climbed up onto a lawn chair we had sitting on our front porch, and somehow made the chair tip backwards. It was one of those awful moments that move in slow motion. I saw it happen from across the lawn, but as fast as I ran, it happened before I got to him. Sam fell backwards from the front porch all the way onto the driveway, hitting the back of his head on the concrete. He has a huge purple goose egg on the back of his poor little noggin. After our brush with concussions on Monday, he is now under a lot of Mommy surveillance. I am now wanting to add a railing to the porch, and am ready to require my children to wear bubble wrap, safety goggles, and helmets at all times.

Young Man

Evan came out of his room on Friday morning after his shower with agitation rolling off of him in waves. "Look at me Mom!" he said. "I LOOK RIDICULOUS." And after examining him carefully, I had to agree.

It's been getting warmer around here, so Evan had dug through his drawers trying to find some warm weather clothes. His toes were curling over the edges of his sandals, which had grown way too small for him over the winter months. His shirt looked like a belly shirt a girl might wear it was so short. And his shorts were WAAAAAAY too small. My baby is shooting up like a string bean.

So Saturday morning we went shopping, as we had discovered after going through all of his clothes that he needed an entire new wardrobe. Growing boys are impossible to keep up with.

Once at the store, I discovered-much to my horror-that we needed to shop in the men's department. For my baby! It seems in so many ways I had him yesterday, and yet there we were in the middle of the men's clothing, trying to figure out sizes that make no sense to me.

We picked up some size 8 men's tennis shoes and sandals, lots of shorts and shirts, and some clothes for church. And since we were throwing out so much money anyway, we got new tennis shoes for Charlie and Sam, who had destroyed their old ones in their insistence in using them as brakes for their scooters.

Some days I am so tired, I can't wait for everyone to be in bed so I can sit down. But days like these remind me that I need to cherish every blessed second of time with my kids, because before you know it they are turning into young men.

The Joy of Raising Boys

I woke this morning to the sound of raucous peals of laughter coming from the toddlers' room. Even with my brain fogged with sleep I knew this couldn't be a good sign.

When I went in, I found both boys buck naked, diapers off. Both of the them were joyously using their boy parts to spray the room with pee. The walls, the floor, the toys. I was torn between laughing and crying. Not a mess you want to clean up when you're sick, but it was just so....boyish! They looked at me with faces flushed with laughter and chuckles and fun, and it was hard to be stern.

I can name quite a few grown men who would have just as much fun doing the same thing.

So, tongue in cheek and trying to suppress a laugh, we had a talk about not getting undressed until I got there, and how our parts were for going potty in the toilet, NOT around our room.

Is life this much fun with girls?