Birthday Wishes

The boys woke me up this morning with an outraged cry: "I looked out at the table and there are no decorations for my birthday!"

They know it's their "real" birthday today but it took some serious cajoling to get them to stop freaking out that today was not the day of their party. I guess that means they are truly growing up - they now understand the flow of the space-time continuum.

Four years ago today, I was in a hospital, desperately worried about the health and safety of my two unborn babies. It was seven weeks too early for them to come out, but my body had had enough. High blood pressure, crazy scary swelling, pre-eclampysia, and fifty pounds enough. My water broke after a week in the hospital of trying to hang on just a little longer, just one more day. I was scared but not alone. Hubby was there to hold my hand. He watched the whole surgery - apparently quite an amazing ordeal to see two human beings emerge from my body. Even when he told me he was able to see all my organs and all my "fat". Gee, thanks.

I am forever grateful for the care I and my babies received from the nurses and doctors. They did amazing work and never once made me feel like an idiot or a wimp. Not even when I was sobbing and trying to hold my body still as they put in the spinal block. The nurse told me I was doing a great job, which I knew was a blatant lie to make me feel better and I told her so. Then I was numb and being tugged around - and then my babies were there, crying, being cleaned and weighed and wrapped up like snug bugs. The sight of those two boys, right there, finally able to see their perfect features and smell their little perfect heads - I'll never forget it.

And it's nice to always have a trump card in any fight with your spouse: "Oh yeah? Well, just remember, I had your two children wrenched from my body!"

A Dark, Dark Lesson

This summer, the boys are doing the summer reading program from our local library. They have been devouring books at a rapid pace, mostly due to the fact that the grown-ups in their lives are ones who are doing the actual reading.

I am continually amazed at how fast they "memorize" their favorites. One such favorite, In a Dark, Dark Wood, has become part of the family lexicon where we make up stories to fit the pattern based on where we are at the time. The story goes like this: "In a dark, dark wood, there was a dark, dark house. And in that dark, dark house, there was a dark, dark room." Etc., etc. You get the idea. As do the boys.

This morning, I was treated to a lovely original version by N:

"In a dark, dark house, there was a dark, dark pumpkin.

And that dark, dark pumpkin was in a dark, dark room.

And that dark, dark pumpkin was going POOPA!"

One thing I've learned as the only girl in the house: potty-humor is king.

Random Quotes

Me: How in the world did you get a bug bite on your butt?

N: Because the bug found a spot there and thought, this would be a good place to eat!

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Me: Should we go in and find my husband?

J: He's not your husband! He's your darling!

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Daddy: Did you get to see the lions at the zoo?

Me: No, we didn't get all the way back there today.

N: Yes we did! We saw lions! .... (a questioning silence ensues) .... We saw sea lions!

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Me: (Reading a freaking long Curious George book out loud before bed) ....

N: Pause!

Me: (Stunned silence)

N: Pause Mommy! I have to go potty!

Me: Pause?! I'm not the DVR!

Lying to Your Children

I'm not sure when it started, but I am now officially lying to my children. What makes me feel better is that apparently EVERYONE does this but NO ONE talks about it.

A few examples:

"No, we can't play video games tonight because Daddy isn't here. Only Daddy knows how to work the video games."

"Oh, no, Mommy is so sorry that she can't give you any candy for dessert. Daddy ate all the candy last night."

"Um, yeah, you can't pee in the basement when Mommy is home. You can only pee in the basement when Daddy is here. It makes Mommy uncomfortable." (And just to clarify, they're not actually peeing on the cement floor - we have a sump pump.)

Hmmm...I'm noticing a trend. All of my lies relate to my dear husband. Also, it's really annoying to refer to yourself in the third person. I'll have to work on that.

Ready to Crack

The boys are cracking each other up these days.

The other night they pulled a complete meltdown in the kitchen after I brought them inside for their bath. Really, if you've never heard two nearly four-year old boys screaming at the top of their lungs while they kick and pound the floor, you should try it. It puts things into perspective. Like that enormous glass of wine on the counter. That enormous glass of wine can look pretty small in comparison. But I digress.

They're kicking and screaming and (fake) crying about not wanting to take a bath and I'm doing my best I'm-ignoring-your-antics-just-like-they-say-to-do-in-the-parenting-books impersonation. And then they just look at each and start laughing HYSTERICALLY. As if to say, you seriously look like a moron, carrying on the way you are. And then they go back to screaming and kicking and flailing again, as if remembering what their original mission was. And then back to laughing. And then to screaming. And I have to somehow keep a straight face.

I had to leave the room finally.