When Lady Gaga and Photo Booth collide

Wilder's damn good questions, vol. 1

I'm going to try to make a series out of these ... these questions that Wilder asks us on a regular basis now. They are almost always, in my opinion, thought-provoking.

A few that I remember from the past few days:

"What would the sun taste like?" (And, of course, "What would the moon taste like?")

"What is bigger than a giant?"

"What is smaller than a piece of dust?"

"What is God? Where is God?"

"What would happen if there were no people in this world?"

"What would happen if all the birds died?"

"What would happen if there were no cars in this world?"

"What do ants eat?"

"What would it be like if there was no food?"

"What is sunshine made out of?"

"Who makes the wind blow?"

"Hunter, why do you sit in the middle of the stairs when people are trying to walk through here???"

That's all I can remember for now. More to come, no doubt — he's a very curious kid.

Fall hike shots

Funny boy

Just now as Wilder was going to bed, I was lying in bed with him, ostensibly to sing him a song, but really, we usually just lie there and cuddle and chat and try to make each other laugh. Tonight, he somehow managed to connect his elbow to my eye socket. As I held my eye, moaning a little, he leaned over and kissed it very gently.

Very sweet.

Then he told me: "Sometimes, when you get hurt, you need a kiss. But I hope it's not your feet that are hurt."

Long pause filled with the sound of me giggling.

"Actually," he continued, "I hope it's not ANYONE'S feet that get hurt."

More pause, more giggling. Then, when I'd composed myself, I said: "Yeah, but if I did hurt my foot, you'd kiss it, right?"

"No mama. You'd just have to go to the hospital."

Then we both laughed, me much harder than him, until Wilder had to ask, "Mama? Can you talk?"

Man oh man oh man I love this kid and his wonderful growing totally awesome sense of humor.

Long time no post

I think for the first time since I started this blog, I let a whole month pass without posting. My apologies to readers, if there are any left. It has been quite the first quarter of the year. Jerry worked some crazy hours and often wasn't home until late at night and gone also on the weekends. With it pretty much behind us now, I think I can safely say it sucked mightily but we all weathered it pretty well, boys included. That said, when I told them that I was taking a trip and Wilder asked, "But who will take care of us?," and I responded that his papa would be taking off work to stay home with them, he all but pushed me out the door. "You can leave tomorrow, Mama." I mean, I'm surprised he didn't offer to pack my bags, pick up my Traveler's Checks and find me a ride to the airport.

Speaking of Wilder ... my is that little boy growing up quick. This past week he has started calling me "mom" (instead of "mama") more often than not. I just NOW caught him getting his own bowl of cereal (a first) and he's joined his first tee-ball team. Lest we get too carried way, let it be known that Wilder really should be on one of those teams named the Rockhounds or the Buttscrathers or the Starers of Things In the Great Beyond. He is not, shall we say, picking up on the big picture. I practice with him in the front yard, and he does pretty great. But put him in a large group of other likeminded little monkeys and he loses all that he's learned. Hit the ball? Run randomly toward some point in the ball field only Wilder is aware of. Oh, and did I say run? I don't know what I'm talking about. Wilder kind of lopes. He lopes kind of like a mentally challenged pony. I mean, I love my boy, but he only gets his hustle on if he thinks that either A) it's a race, or B) a fire-breathing dragon is running behind him.

He'll come around, I'm sure. This kind of stuff used to really bother me. The bemused and slightly exasperated looks on the coaches faces would be getting under my skin like no one's business, and I'd probably be that mom on the sidelines hollering my face off to "stand up!" or "move!" or "catch ITTTTTTTT!" And, while I cannot help myself -- I do occasionally offer encouragement in the background -- I do know that it really doesn't matter how well he does; it matters that he tries and has fun and that when we do find something he's both good at and loves, we recognize it and encourage it. A sure sign I've matured and become a more patient mom? He will practice in the yard with me almost daily, he tells me he wishes I were his coach, and -- probably most importantly -- when he tells me he wants a break, we take one. No questions asked.

Finally, thanks to these boys, at the ripe old age of 38, I'm learning some patience.

So, yes, Wilder is growing up. He is so fun. He laughs with wild abandon and declares his love of the "whole world!" and tries to torture his brother sometimes and sometimes sleeps in bed with us now and adores all things dragon-related (especially reinforced by last weekend's outing to "How to Train Your Dragon" ... highly recommend that flick) and rides a scooter now and will be cruising along on a new bike here soon.

Hunter, as you probably realized, turned 2 in March. I didn't realize it, but apparently he's lost most of his baby fat. Birthday party guests remarked on his slimness ("WHERE did that belly go?"). Hunter talks a TON -- way more than Wilder did at this age, but no doubt due to Wilder's constant steam of consciousness now. He is constantly surprised by the world around him (Mama, BUS! Mama, tractor! Mama, kitty!), and one of his most favorite, and my most loathed, phrases uttered goes like this: "Mama, I JUMP!" which is typically followed by the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen plastered on a face and a huge THUMP on the floor. Ninety-eight percent of the time, that's followed by more jumping and thumping. Occasionally, he miscalculates and it's followed by copious amounts of tears. But the boy is tough. Very, very tough. For now, anyway.

Well, I could probably go on for quite some time. It's been a while since I talked about the boys on here, and they've done lots of growing, but my dryer buzzer just let me know that there is haus frauing to do.

Will try to post some pictures later today.

Twinkle Twinkle duet (sort of)

Wilderisms

So I'm constantly trying to think up new ways to get Wilder to focus, listen, do what I tell him ... OK, threaten. Today I told him if he didn't listen to whatever it was I was trying to get him to do, I was going to rename him "Wilder Trouble Scott." He didn't like that and quickly complied.

Then, a few minutes later, on our drive home from school, he was trying to get my attention. "Uhh, Miss Cherry?" he said, quickly realizing that he was calling by his teacher's name. "Um, I mean Mama? Wait, I mean Trouble Mama?" He's quick, that one. He pretty quickly incorporates anything new into his lingo.

For example, another phrase he apparently learned at school today I've been hearing all afternoon: "Mama, you are full of baloneys!"

Kid cracks me up.

Monday Monday (with Hunter)

Wish I could write more lately, but with Jerry working all kinds of hours, me starting a new part-time position at my old workplace, and the millions of other ways that life pulls and pushes at you, I just don't have a lot of extra time. I did get a chance today, though, to take the camera outside and follow Hunter around with it. (The REAL camera, not my camera phone ... which makes a huge difference but which I don't do often enough these days ... seems things like smart-phones and Facebook are shunting my creativity ... hmmm).

Anyway, here are some pics of my baby boy this morning. Is he not getting cuter every day? (The one of him smelling the chalk pretty much proves the genes from my side of the family have taken over ...)

Bye bye crib

I don't know what came over me yesterday. Well, no, that's not true. I do, or at least I think I do. Jerry goes back to work the day after tomorrow. That return will officially start tax season, and because of his transition into a different position, this will likely be the worst tax season we've ever endured. Translation: Jerry will almost NEVER be home until some time in April. I've taken some measures to ensure we don't lose our minds around here. The boys will both be in school 10 hours per week, I'm trying to hire a neighborhood teenager to come play with the boys two or three nights a week and on one weekend day so I can cook dinner/work/hide in my room and cry/mutter/rock back and forth. That kind of stuff, and more.

My point is that I'm trying to plan, to get those things done that will need to be taken care of before Jer's extended absence. So yesterday, without much thought, I decided to tackle Hunter's room. To move the big bed in there, re-organize his clothes so that what doesn't fit is out and what fits is in. To organize what was once a changing table to a toy organizer (he barely fits on there anymore). Etcetera etcetera. Wilder, by the way, is increasingly my and Jer's little assistant and he was quite helpful in the whole endeavor. He was also VERY excited for his brother to be out of his crib.

Hunter was also pretty excited about the new bed and set up a chair to leap from onto the bed. Kept running across the room and launching himself onto it. Kept rolling around with his stuffed animals on it. Still, the first nap and the first bedtime ended, after much crying, hollering and fussing, with him going back into his crib, which we've kept in the room for now. He wanted to be in the big bed, but it was all so new as to cause much consternation.

But now, as I type, he lays in there peacefully zonked out. The third time was the charm. So, what I'm almost positive is my last baby is no longer a baby. The crib is out. The only thing that really remains are diapers, and I'm sure I won't have quite the misty-eyed reaction to seeing those go that I've had to the crib. More like dancing around the room, waving my arms above my head and singing "Hallelujah!"

And to Hunter, one of the sweetest baby boys who ever roamed this earth ... I feel like this marks the end of an era, in a sense. So let me have a few words: Hunter, you are AMAZING. You are this wonderful combination of sweet, loving, affectionate, rambunctious, crazy, joyous, cranky, calm, confident and creative that lights up our lives and fills our home with much laughter and love. I cannot have imagined a more perfect addition to our family. I love you so much, sweet boy, and can't wait to see your barrel through more of life's challenges and adventures.

Here are some photos from the last couple days.

Video time

The video above is of Wilder singing some song he's learned at school. It might be hard to make out, but he's singing about the artists they've studied so far: Monet, Mondrian, Cezanne and Michelangelo. I particularly love the flourish he gives to the "Michelangeloooooo!" part, which comes near the end.

One of two videos I got of yesterday's Christmas program at W's school.

And the second video. The blurry blog of color at about the 1 minute mark is Hunter dancing on Jerry's lap. And yes, that's my child pointing repeatedly at the audience at the end, as if to say: "No, you guys! You guys, my fans, are GREAT!" Wilder is so awesome.

Snow Day! On Jer's Birthday!!!

OK, so the use of explanation points in the title of this post might be a little overkill. But suffice to say we were all pretty excited that it was snowing on Jer's birthday yesterday shortly after we woke up, with Wilder and I both taking credit for it (at least in our own mind's, if not out loud) and with Wilder declaring that it now "must be Christmas!" for it clearly can snow on no other day. ;-)
At any rate, it was a great day for all involved, I think. I've been remiss the last few years in making Jerry feel as special as the birthday guy should feel. I think it has something to do with the fact that it's damn near impossible for me to get anything done without surgically removing a boy from the top of my head. But this year, we pulled it off.

Below are some photos, of the snow and the festivities. Enjoy. And love to all.

Didn't turn out as good as I'd hoped, but I still love the hugs.

First taste of snow.

Hmmm, it's kinda cold out here.

Wilder kept commanding me to "taste the snow, Mama. TASTE IT!"

Bundled up and ready to ... stand stiffly and wonder what the hell is going on out here?

Wilder ... so pleased.

A post-cake game of hiding under/over the coffee table.

Zee chocolate-mustacioed one!

Poking the cake. Good game.

First, a taste test.

They were supposed to look like a "4" and a "3"

Wilder, VERY excited about lit candles. And who can blame him.

The tiptoe button

Just now we were driving home from our friend Ginger's. She'd watched Hunter for me this morning while I joined Wilder at his school for the Thanksgiving party, which was fun and I'm glad I got to enjoy it without having to chase my littlest one around ... thanks G!).

Anyway, we were driving home well after Hunter's usual nap time, so he passed out in his car seat not five minutes into our drive. At some point, Wilder noticed, right as I was saying something to him.

"SHHHHH!" he commanded me, waving his hand in the air to indicate that I should shut it right then and there. Pointed at Hunter and gave me a very stern look.

"It's OK," I said. "We can talk quietly."

"No, Mama. No talking. Just drive," he whispered. And then: "And make the car tiptoe. Where's the tiptoe button???"

I love the things he says. Clever boy.

Hunter: not quite a mama's boy, but not quite not

Hunter is at that point in his developing toddlerhood where he has set preferences and clear opinions. For instance, he likes Jerry to pull him out of his crib first thing in the morning. If I go in, he gets mad, hollers, "no no no no no! PAPA!" At which point I shrug my shoulders, head back to bed and tap Jerry on the shoulder as I begin a glorious fall back into the soft contours of my mattress and pillow. This sometimes even happens when Hunter is napping during the day, when Jerry is at work, and after the bit where he hollers at me that I should not deign to live his hefty little butt from his slumber, sometimes literally telling me to "GO AWAY," I let him know he's in for a long wait and walk back out the door. He comes around eventually.

OK, so I'm kind of flippant about this, and I try to remember that sometimes the boys prefer me for other things, and also look on the bright side -- I can get an extra few winks in the morning or just lay in bed taking a little more time to wake up, which is great for an a.m. crankpot like me. But truth is, it does cause my heart to ache just a twinge when he sends me packing, demanding his papa.

Cut to this morning. Hunter woke up. Played in bed awhile. Then started calling out "Papaaa!" Jerry got up and took him out to the couch. Every morning, Hunter insists on taking his blankie, his doggy and his froggy out of his bed with him and cuddling on the couch with all three. Apparently, after he'd been up a few minutes this morning, he started gathering all of his lovies up and launched off the couch and started heading toward the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

"Where you going?" Jerry asked.

"Where's Mama?" Hunter answered, as he continued on his march.

A few seconds later, he wandered into our bedroom, calling my name. "Maaaaaaamaaaaa?" Walked over to the bed, looked up, saw me in it and demanded: "Up???" Then he crawled into bed with me, arranged all his prized possessions around me, laid his head on my chest and grinned at me.

Of course he then proceeded to roll around like a sumo wrestler, at some point butt-slamming my nose with his ample behind (we don't call him Captain Longcrack for nothing). But still, it was a sweet moment that I'll cherish.

Wilder: Helping a brother out

It never ceases to amaze me how sweet Wilder can be. We received a toy catalog in the mail a few days ago, and he's been going through page by page circling things he'd like for Santa to bring him — so much so that it's now pretty dog-eared.

But now, having searched through it exhaustively for selections for himself, he's now spent a good portion of his day finding things that Santa can bring his little brother.

We also look at the Christmas Countdown online every day, and his response is: "Oh maaaan, that's gonna take forever!"

Affirmation is sweet

There have been a number of (particularly trying) days since I started staying home with the boys back in February of this year when I wondered if I'd made the right decision by quitting my job. Today those concerns were put to rest.

Wilder just woke up from his nap. It took him quite awhile to fall to sleep, so he'd been in his room for a little over three hours. He woke up in a great mood, and was all stretches and sleepy smiles. He pointed to a toy in his bed and told me he was sorry for bringing it into bed to play.

"It's OK," I assured him. "You napped and that was the important part."

"But I missed you," I added

"I missed you too," he replied. And then he paused, and followed that up with this:

"And when I was a baby, I'd miss you all day when you went to work. I missed you so much."

"So you're glad I'm home with you now?"

"Yes, Mama. I'm glad." Big hug.

Leaves! Fall! Fun!

Me = destroyer of life

So, being a mother of boys, and specifically of two boys aged 4 and 1, I really never thought I'd hear the phrase: "You're ruining my LIFE!!" uttered. And, if I did ever hear it, I figured it would be many, many years.

Leave it to Wilder, our resident expert in drama. On the way home from school today, perhaps due to the very warm weather we're having, he asked if we had any popscicles. No, I replied. "Well," he demanded, "you need to go get some. You need to take this car to the food store RIGHT NOW AND GET SOME. Do you hear me, Mama? I WANT POPSCICLES." (Note: This very clear desire was uttered after about five minutes of him talking and me wondering what in the hell the string of words coming out of his mouth could possibly mean ...)

To which I replied: "Well, your Lordship, while it is clearly my job to grant each of your many daily wishes, we're NOT going to the store, but we ARE going home to have lunch."

Wilder: "So we're not going to the store?"

Me: "Umm. No. Correct."

Wilder: "Mama! You're ruining my life! I need popscicles and you won't get them and NOW YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE!!"

Which was followed by about two minutes of: "Mama! It's NOT funny! Stop LAUGHING!!"

Halloween!

A quick post of photos from yesterday's pumpkin carving party and neighborhood Halloween party. I wish I'd got some of them trick-or-treating, but I was pretty worn out by the end of the day. It was a pretty successful holiday. Wilder approached the candy-harvesting with even more enthusiasm than last year, sprinting from each house to my side, holding out the sweet treats that had just been gifted him and hollering "Look, Mama, look! Look what they GAVE MEEEEEE!" after each house, right up to the last one. I think he just couldn't believe each and every total stranger was giving him something he clutched so dearly to his heart.

And it was so fun to see wee little Hunter toddling up to the doors, well behind Wilder and our friends' son, Micah. He was carrying his big old plastic pumpkin bucket with aplomb. He didn't make it quite as late as the bigger boys, but he held his own.

Anyway, the photos. Hope everyone had a very, very happy Halloween 2009.

Hunter inspect some Halloween-themed lawn art.

I think this might have been the only pic I got of him with his hat on.

Skelly Boy!

Wilder gets a turn on the rope swing. Weeeee!

More animatronic lawn art. Such a cool decorated house.

Vampire Jer and Skelly Boy.

The family headed down for the neighborhood party.

Earlier in the day, at the pumpkin carving/brunch party, Wilder and Lea go head to head.

Kris and her starry-eyed Jack.

Hunter takes a contemplative break.

Hunter pointing out something high in the sky to Papa.

Lea plays ball!

Wilder paints a wee pumpkin.