Just for Fun

Here are some comments, questions, and interesting situations from the last couple weeks, along with our fantastic parental responses.

Driving on 96 by the Kent County Jail, and Riley yells out “Wow! Look at all those stolen cars!” We explain that those are not stolen cars, it is the employee parking lot. I tell him not everyone in jail has stolen a car, to which he replies “What else do they do to get in jail?” I reply “You know, we've watched Cops” not wanting to have to go into detail. “Oh yeah”, he says, “Coke, beer, a pot, and then there’s the drugs.” To which I reply “Oh, look at that cloud- it looks like a train!” Subject change: success.

I download a new Christmas album, which prompts Riley to ask everyone we meet for two days “Do you have Christmas X?” (just say it out loud, quickly) And I, rather embarrassed, have to repeatedly explain that the name of the album is X Christmas, not Christmas X.

My earring goes in the garbage disposal and is stuck. No one confesses. Since I just took the disposal apart last week to fish out a stuck quarter, I know that the inside of the mechanism is filled with #$%& and I say goodbye to my earring. If you’ve ever fixed a disposal you know what I mean.

There are no Phillips head screwdrivers left in our house. No one knows where they are. When I say “Maybe the screwdriver stealing troll took them all”, Riley nods his head up and down and says very seriously “Yeah, I bet that’s it.” I'm also looking for the scotch tape.

Riley wants to Google Pink’s husband to find out where he went. Really. In the song “So What” by Pink, she sings “I guess I just lost my husband, I don’t know where he went” and Riley thought we could Google it and figure out what happened. His first issue of People Magazine is in the mail. (kidding!)

Recently, after viewing the video “Thriller”, Riley was shocked to discover that Michael Jackson is black. We laughed pretty hard over that one.

Parents of the Year Award

And the winners are...
Mike & Lisa Aldrich!
For their brilliant choice to bring their seven year old son to the "Forest of Fear"!
For exposing their semi-innocent son (who thinks Scooby Doo is scary) to characters like Jason and men with chainsaws!
For dragging him through the forest, saying "It's ok- it's probably almost over"!
For prying his hands off his ears and eyes to show him that the characters are just people dressed up!
For making his brothers go first into scary rooms, so that Riley could see how safe it was!
For laughing uncontrollably while he cried!

Comments from Riley about the Forest of Fear:
"It's not at all like Lord of the Rings... Lord of the Rings was scary but it had drama. The Forest didn't have drama."
"I can't even look at any woods now without feeling like I'm gonna pee my pants."
"I don't want to go there ever again."
"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

No, You Can't Be THAT for Halloween....

We try to encourage our kids to be creative, to be individuals. Every year in September we brainstorm ideas about costumes. Sometimes I sew, glue, paint, etc. to make their costumes. Some years we just buy parts.

This year Tobey is going to be a presidential candidate, with "Vote for Tobey" signs hanging over his shoulders, and stickers to hand out. Brennan is a mad scientist, and Ry is a ninja (we recently watched the movie "Mortal Combat").

Here are some of the great characters the boys have been- their own choices- over the years...
A Hawk (head, wings, & tail)
Mark Martin (a cardboard box turned into a car that hung waist-high)
Frodo (hairy feet and pointy ears made it perfect)
Ring Wraith (all black- very scary)
Alien with 6 eyes (ping pong balls make great eyes)
Robot (watch out for the exhaust valve in the back)
Headless Man (Mike scares kids annually with this one)
Skeleton (we cut out a complete skeleton out of reflective vinyl and stuck it to a black jogging suit)
Stunt team (each with many injuries, and I dressed like an ER doc)

Here are some of the requests that didn't make the list (or a costume)...
Invisible boy
Doc Oc (eight arms? No way!)
a tooth
Lake Michigan
a jellyfish (too much Discovery Channel)
Iron Man (waaaaay to much work)
Xbox controller
Lego guy
Jesus

Happy Halloween!

Proof

"There is no way that was an accident!" I had already repeated myself too many times. The pencil hole in the top of the vinyl toilet lid was deep, and centered perfectly. At first no one would fess up, but after some pressure it was revealed: Brennan did it (actually, the youngest is always eager to rat out his brothers).
"It was an accident! I went to the bathroom, closed the lid, and when I leaned over to flush, a pencil fell out of my pocket and stabbed the lid! I swear!"
I have heard a lot of excuses, but "it fell out of my pocket and made a hole"? Give me a break!
Tears soon ensued, followed by statements like the classic 'why don't you ever trust me', 'I was in a hurry to do my homework', and other 12-year-old attempts at deferring blame.
"I just don't believe the pencil 'fell' and made a hole!" I repeated.
Without hesitation, I told Brennan (rather sarcastically) that we should try to reenact the scenario. I went and got a freshly sharpened pencil, held it a foot over the lid, and dropped it.
Now there are two holes in the lid, a son telling me "I told you so", two other kids laughing hysterically, and I'm still not sure it was an accident.

Stuck

It was a beautiful summer day. The church next door was under construction, which made for a delightfully muddy place for little boys to ride their bikes. Through my kitchen window I watched my middle child (who has an inherent need to keep up with his brother) follow the elder through a large puddle. The muddy slop proved to be too much for the little bike which still had training wheels on it. The pedals were stopped precariously above the water level, which was halfway up the tires. To proceed out of the puddle would mean dipping a shoe in the water as the pedal turned. What happened next amazed me: my normally resourceful, very active, always filthy two-and-a-half year old just sat there. He would not leave the puddle for fear of getting his feet wet.
“Stuck!” was the cry.
“I stuck, Mom!”
“Stuck!”
Brother was inside almost immediately. “Mom! Tobey’s stuck in a puddle!”
“I’ll be right out” I told him, and as he went to report the good news to the stuck one, I went to find my camera. When I finally left the house to walk over to the puddle, I was amused to see that the free brother had hopped back on his bike and was gleefully riding around as if nothing was wrong. All the while his brother continued to yell.
“Hey! I stuck!”
“I stuck he-ah!”
“Hey Brennan! I stuck!”
So I took a few pictures of my child in the puddle, and then said to him “What are you going to do?”
“Help me!” he replied.
“You have to ride out yourself. I’m not going to get in the puddle with you.” I replied.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can—just go!”
“I will get all wet.”
“It’s Ok; it’s just your shoes.”
“No!”
“Well, I’ll have to think about how I can help you without getting into the puddle with you.” I said.
For fifteen minutes I sat there looking like I was thinking of a solution, while he sat patiently in the muck. As he watched his brother ride around, I saw his level of frustration grow, and then, all of a sudden, he just started pedaling and rode right out. Not one word from him and he was back in action, wet feet and all.

I have been Tobey Stuck. I knew there was a way out of my puddle, but I chose to sit there because I didn’t want to get dirty.
I have been Brennan Riding. I have watched others get stuck, but knowing how to avoid the mess, stayed away and pretended not to see their dilemma.
I have been Brennan Helping. I have interceded in order to help someone else, seeking the wisdom of another, unable to provide help myself.
I have been Parent Observing. I have watched others get stuck, knowing there was a way out, and just watched and waited to see what they would do.
I have been Muddy Puddle. I have been a hang-up for someone looking to get somewhere, only to find me as a hurdle.
I have been Little Blue Bike. I have carried others into times of joy and great experiences, but also into tough times where we don’t move forward at all.

As you consider where your role might be in a situation like this, remember:
“We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8.28, NIV)

Overheard....

"Oh, he's a virgin."
"Look at her- she's definitely a virgin!"
"Heh- yeah"
"There's another one."
"Yup, virgin."
"He looks cool- I bet he's not a virgin."

After hearing enough, I alarmingly yelled "What are you talking about?"

Brennan and Tobey explained, after several uncomfortable seconds of silence, that they were watching people go by on the street and determining whether they were virgins or not.

"Do you know what that is?" I asked.

"I think it's a person who doesn't have a boyfriend or a girlfriend..." Tobey stammered.
Brennan just sat there with a smirk on his face. I suspect that he was in the know.

Of course, I had to explain what it meant. I'm sure I saw little whisps of innocence float away as I was talking.

Laid Off

I have laid myself off. As Chief Family Officer of the Aldrich Corporation, I have decided to hire a less experienced, cheaper work force: Brennan, Tobey, Riley, and Mike. After several months of a gradual decline in employee participation, I began to realize that the larger burden of work was being done by me, myself, and I.
It was a Sunday after church when we entered our headquarters, only to find things in complete disarray. The current staff just couldn't keep up. So, after quite a rant and a dramatic resignation, I began to divide up my many duties among the less-than-eager laborers.
So far the new workers are shocked and slightly angered to find that they have almost no free time, and it seems like everytime they sit to watch television there is something more to do. Apparently, laundry requires a human presence in order to transfer it from the washer to the dryer- who knew? It has also become clear that when you leave toys, shoes, and other items on the floor, you can actually trip and injure yourself! My current workforce does require a lot of direction: it seems as if they have to literally trip over something before they pick it up.
I plan on re-instating my position as CFO this upcoming Sunday. My hope is that my workers will realize exactly how much work needs to be done in order to maintain our current system of living. My fear is that by the end of the week, the only sanity left in the house will be with the dog.

The Stolen Bike

“It was sliver and orange BMX bike. A Mongoose. We just took the pegs off, and it has hand brakes.” I described the bike as my son sat on the couch in the other room quietly crying. After the policeman on the phone acknowledged that most stolen bikes are never found, I hung up and told Riley that we were done- there was nothing else we could do. The police said bike would probably never be seen again.
It was a beautiful, sunny Thursday. The boys and a friend had gone to the park to fish—two pulling a wagon loaded with poles and tackle, and two on bicycles. Two-way radio in hand, I had warned them: keep your bikes and the wagon close to you while you fish, or someone could come by and steal your stuff. Two hours later the call crackled over the two-way radio: “Mom! Mom! Riley’s bike is gone! We can’t find it anywhere! It’s not where we left it!”
My heart sank as I pulled into the park. There was my seven year old, sitting on the side of the road, sobbing so hard he was shaking. I got out and hugged him, and he sobbed, “You were right! Some stupid person took it!” After a couple of loops around the park it was clear that the bike was gone. We went home, called the police, and talked a lot about what kind of people there are in the world today and how we can be different.
Friday night we went to the Metro Cruise, a fun event full of hot cars, and a welcome distraction from the bike situation. As we were looking at a motorcycle, we saw a kid on a bike that looked like Riley’s. After much discussion about the bike, we decided it must not have been his, because it had a different back wheel. We decided to leave. Then the most amazing thing happened. When we pulled into our driveway we were met by a neighbor who asked “Did Riley’s bike get stolen?” She went on to tell us that her friend (both are 8th graders) had been at the park and saw the boy take the bike. When the friend described what had happened, the neighbor thought it sounded like Riley’s bike. She described the stolen bike, and it was ours! She not only knew the name of the boy who stole it, but knew where he lived. Then our neighbor informed us that her older brother who is in high school went to get it back. No worries, she said, he’s a black belt in karate. So my husband Mike and our kids went to find the bike with the neighbor kids. He went to the boy’s house, and talked to his mother, who had no idea what was going on and was very upset. “We just want the bike back” we said. His mother told us that her son was at the Metro Cruise with his friends.
Mike went up to Roger’s Plaza where the boys were supposed to be, and decided to ask the police to help him find the kids. It turns out the officer he found just happened to be a school liaison officer. The neighbor kids located the thief, and the police came and talked to him. The conversation was mostly the policeman talking, and the boy saying “Yes Sir.”
“Do you know how old the boy is whose bike you took? Seven! Does that make you feel good about yourself? How would you feel if someone took your things? This little boy cried all afternoon after you took his bike. Do you know that you can go to jail for stealing? This is serious!” and so on. Unfortunately, the thief had given the bike to a friend who took one of the wheels, so he didn’t even have it in his possession. That was Riley’s bike we had seen earlier! Unbelievable. The officer told him to return the bike, wheel and all, to us by 3:00pm Saturday or the police would come to his house to take him to jail. The boy’s mother showed up and the gravity of the situation was really sinking in.
Then another amazing thing happened. The officer was telling the thief how important it was that he stay out of trouble, and how devastating it was to Riley that his bike was gone. If he didn’t get his bike back, he would be so upset. And Riley stepped in front of the officer, faced the boy, stuck out his hand and said with a big smile, “That’s ok man, I forgive you!” What? We didn’t even have the bike back yet! Riley was dishing out forgiveness to this kid without blinking! I couldn’t believe it. Even the officer looked surprised.
We did get the bike back, original wheel and all. It was a situation full of good lessons for all involved, but I think the most valuable lesson for me was about forgiveness. After all that panic, anger, and heartache the fist thing he thought to do was forgive. I’m not sure I would have done the same thing. How many times have I said “forgive us our sins, and we forgive those who sin against us” in reciting the Lord’s Prayer? I guess forgiveness does go both ways. If we walk around angry, never forgiving others, it will be hard for others to forgive us. And what about the unconditional forgiveness we have received from God? That’s ok, man, I forgive you. How can something so simple be so hard?
I’m going to forgive someone this week, even though it will be hard. I challenge you to do the same.
Check out Colossians 3:13: “Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.”

Top 10 Vacation Tips (from Aldrich family experiences)

10. In early summer, towel off well when you are done swimming in a lake, or you may get ‘swimmers itch’. And yes, that does mean tiny parasites under your skin, and no, that's not 'cool'.

9. iPods are great for the kids on long car trips—you won’t hear a peep out of them the whole way, and there’s no arguing over what’s on the radio.

8. If you are 7 and you are fishing along the shore of a lake, wear old shoes, because you WILL fall in. Probably more than once.

7. If you are over 30 and haven’t been waterskiing for years, you may be extremely sore the day after you tried it.

6. Although you can’t get your kids up on time for school, while you are on vacation they will wake you up at 5:45 am with the sun so that they can go fishing.

5. Don’t count on boys between the ages of 7 and 12 to pack their own toothbrushes. They won’t.

4. Don’t put your towels on the back of the boat. When the boat picks up speed, they fall in the lake.

3. Sitting for 4 hours on a sheet while waiting for fireworks to begin can be extremely stressful for the parents of a 7 year old very active boy who has no fear of wandering away and is always hungry or thirsty and always has to go to the bathroom in what happens to be a port-o-john with a long line.

2. Pick up your feet when you walk across a wooden deck. If you slide your feet, you could get a 3” sliver, and someone may have to use a Swiss Army knife to cut it out. (See Riley for details)

1. Pontoon boats are heavier than they look. When a stalled boat drifts precariously close to a dock, please don’t stick your foot out to stop it. Your foot will get crushed. (See Tobey for details)

Riley and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Today I woke up and I was freezing, because my brother Tobey turned on the air conditioner to “high”. It was like winter in our room. Then on the way downstairs I tripped on some dirty laundry and fell down the steps. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
When I got downstairs, mom was leaving for work. I hate it when she goes to work, because then I have to listen to Brennan, and no one likes to listen Brennan. I don’t know why I have to listen to him anyway, because Tobey bosses me around more. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
While mom was at work, I started to feel sad and missed my dad, who is in Arizona. When I tried to call Dad, Brennan took the phone away and I had to throw animal crackers at him to get it back. It didn’t matter that I threw the crackers, because the dog ate them anyway. But Brennan still had to call Mom and tell on me. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
When mom finally got home from work I wanted to go outside and play. “I have been cooped up all day” I said. “You have to finish your chores” Mom said. I don’t know why I even have to do chores. Everything just gets messy the next day anyway. Then I snuck out and rode around the block once on my bike to get some energy. When I came back, Mom was waiting on the front porch and said “Put your bike away and go inside!” I tried to explain to her that I was just trying to get some energy so I could do my chores, but she didn’t believe me. I told her I was going to move to Arizona, and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
For dinner we had chicken quesadillas. I like chicken quesadillas, except when I askidentally spill too much salsa on them. Mom said that if I had used the spoon to get the salsa out I would not have dumped half the jar onto my plate. Mom said I would have to do my best to eat it anyway. I told her the salsa was gross, but she said “just scrape it off”. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
After dinner it was time to go to Vacation Bible School. Brennan was working as a helper there, and Mom said he would take me. When Mom went to the bathroom I decided to go for a bike ride. I guess that while I was gone, Mom & Brennan thought that I already went to church, so Mom sent Brennan over too. A little while later I rode my bike up the driveway, and Mom come running outside, totally freaked out. “Where were you?” she yelled at me. “I just rode around the block a couple times!” I yelled back. Mom explained to me that 7 year olds aren’t allowed to do that by themselves, especially without telling anyone. I wish I was 15, I said. “You’re coming with me and Tobey to baseball practice” Mom said. I hate going to Tobey’s baseball practices. I don’t even get to go to the concession stand. I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.
At the practice, I tried to be on my best behavior, but when Mom stood up to talk to some people, I climbed a tree. Mom said “Get down please”, but I didn’t get down. I guess Mom had to tell me too many times to get down, because after a while she really got angry. When I finally sat down in my chair, Mom smelled something and told me to stand up. Boy, was she mad when she saw that my whole butt was covered in pine sap. How was I to know that I would get sap on me if I sat on a pine branch? I asked her. Then I sat in the dirt by the fence to fix my shoe and the dirt stuck to the sap and Mom got even more angry. When I stood up my shoelace got tangled on the bottom of the chain link fence, and mom had to walk all the way around to get it unstuck. I told you I should move to Arizona, I cried. Mom says even in Arizona people have bad days.
At bedtime I couldn’t find my puppy. Everyone knows I can’t sleep without my puppy. I fell asleep during “America’s Got Talent” and missed the end, and then Brennan and Tobey were talking about it and it made me feel bad. Tomorrow will be a better day, said Mom.

Sandlot Baseball, Part 2

The youngest boy left his bat bag at their Elementary school after the game (containing a batting helmet, glove, and his team hat). We went back to search for it, but came up empty. If you see anyone walking around with a bag or items labeled Aldrich, let me know, will ya?
Sometimes the best lessons in life are learned the hard way.

Sandlot baseball

Once upon a time three boys were invited to play baseball at the park with a group of their friends. It seemed as though they would go, but when the agreed upon time came, they were sitting on the couch, watching TV.
"Go to the park and play!" Their mother told them.

"I am watching TV" said the biggest boy.

"I have no bike" said the middle sized boy.
"I have no socks" said wee little boy.

"Why should those things stop you from playing baseball?" asked their mother.
"My ear hurts" said the biggest boy.
"How will I get there?" asked the middle boy.
"What?" asked the wee little boy.

After a moment of consideration, it was decided that the biggest boy would stay home on the couch, to make his ear feel better. Apparently episodes of Naruto are a cure-all for ear aches.

The middle boy explained that walking to the park would exert too much energy, thus causing him to expire too soon during play, resulting in a premature return home. Riding a bicycle would be an energy conserving method of transportation to and from the park.

The smallest boy had moved on to playing Legos.

After much discussion of bicycles and scooters, a method of transporting the bat bag and other gear was fine tuned and the second child was ready to go.

His younger brother was eating ham in the bathroom. (Don't ask)

Their mother took over. The small one was reminded of the baseball game, in which he quickly said "But I have no socks!", and so the hunt for a pair of socks began. After looking in his sock drawer, the wee one was delighted to find that there were indeed socks in it. After about ten minutes, the medium boy became annoyed by his younger counterpart, and went upstairs to find the distracted child playing with matchbox cars on his bed.

When the trip to the park finally began, their mother watched them pedal away, hoping the younger boy can remember to return home.

New Blog!

Hey! If you're reading this, then you found our new blog. We had to ditch the old one because I have been having problems with it since the beginning of 2008. Anyway, Here are my fav stories form the old blog, and I will begin to faithfully post new stories & pics from this point on.
Enjoy!
~lisa

Ketchup

A couple years ago, right after my brother Scott got married, we had to take one of the boys to the ER for something (shocking, I know). My sister Mandy and my new sister, Ann, were shopping together, and said they would babysit Riley. We had Brennan and Tobey with us, and has stopped at McDonald's on the way home to pick up food. After only being home for a few minutes, we heard a yell from the bathroom. Apparently when Ann sat down to go potty, a burst of ketchup shot out from under the seat onto her pants. She was not pleased, and after some interrogation we learned that Bren & Tobey had taken home a few packets of ketchup from the restaurant and placed them between the toilet and the seat. When some unsuspecting victim sat down it would burst and squirt them. Unfortunately, it squirted Aunt Ann right in the crotch of her jeans. We all tried hard not to laugh, because it was pretty creative, and it was funny (just not to Ann).

New friends

Once we invited over to our house a couple new to our church. They were young and didn't have any kids yet. On the way over they stopped and grabbed Taco Bell. While we were all sitting at the kitchen table, Brennan ran in holding his head and blood dripping down his hands. He was hysterical, crying and bleeding all over the place. I stuck his head in the sink to catch the blood, and while our new friends sat frozen with their Taco Bell hanging out of their mouths, Mike and I proceeded to argue over whose turn it was to go to the med center. Turns out Riley hit Brennan's head with a Star Wars light saber (the handle end of it), which split his head open. I won, and Mike took Bren to get stitched up while I sat on the couch entertaining our less-than-hungry friends. I guess Tess and Jay weren't too traumatized by the whole thing, because they still go to our church, we're still friends, and they even had a kid of their own!

Finders Keepers

Finders Keepers
About 5 years ago I started a finders-keepers laundry rule. I was tired of finding things in pockets after I had washed and dried them. Here's a list of some of the things I have found in my boys' pockets over the years:
money
ink pens
chapstick
crayons
gummy bears
m&m's
a cricket
a tooth (human)
peas
sand (the whole pocket full)
rocks
a roll of tape
a love letter
raisins (at least I hope that's what they were)
a peach pit
wrappers
kleenex
a wet wipe
animal crackers (turn into mush in the wash)
grass
wood chips
pea gravel
nail polish (not sure why they had it)
nails and screws
wax worms (from fishing)
jelly beans (this was in a 'special' pocket- see the story called 'pocket')

Pocket

Once I was at the mall with Riley after Easter and he had to go potty. We went in the bathroom, and when he pulled down his underwear a jelly bean fell out. "Oops" he said. Then he said "I'm stuck". When I looked, his little man part was glued to the side of his leg with a piece of Double Bubble gum. What the heck? I said. He told me he was keeping the candy for later and his pants didn't have a pocket. I guess when we were potty training him and I told him the 'pocket' on his underwear goes on top, he really took that seriously. He was keeping his candy in the underwear pocket. It took us almost ten minutes to gingerly pick the gum off his special area.

Frustration

When school started this year Brennan we assigned a safety post. In order to balance the responsibility, we assigned the duty of walking Ry home to Tobey. Tobey is always trying hard to be 'cool' like Brennan. Riley is always trying hard to annoy Tobey and Brennan. Every day when they walked past Bren's post, Ry tried his best to be a snot. A couple of times I walked up to school to view the mischief myself. One day Tobey and Ry came home crying, both of them. Ry had scratches and dirt on his face. What happened to you? I asked Ry.
"We got in a fight."
Tobey quickly interjected. "Chris was trying to beat up Riley and I had to defend him."
Chris is Brennan's friend, a 5th grader. He has a sister who is in 1st grade, and apparently Ry was picking on her when Chris interjected.
"So Chris hit you in the face?" I asked.
"No, Tobey did."
What? I couldn't figure out how Tobey could defend Ry by hitting him.
Here's what Tobey told me: He wants Chris to be his friend too, so he can be like Brennan. He saw Chris picking on Riley and defended Ry. Then as they were walking home, Ry was talking about what a jerk Chris is. Tobey listened to it as long as he could, but about half way home couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to be Chris's friend. Frustrated at Ry for being 'such a brat', he asked Ry to stop talking about it, and when he didn't, Tobey jumped on him and beat him up, throwing him to the ground and punching him in the face. Tobey said 'he just couldn't take it anymore'. He felt bad he had to hit him, but he had to make him stop.
So, I sat there trying to figure out how to come up with a consequence for either of them- Tobey for defending/beating Ry, or Ry for being annoying but getting beat twice. I'm not exactly sure where there was a lesson to be learned, but hopefully they learned something. Ry certainly wasn't going to stop bugging his brothers. Tobey wasn't going to stop being frustrated with Ry. I decided to let the whole thing go and head to my room to pray for serenity. I think "serenity now!" was the exact phrase I used...

Kids say the darndest things…(August 2007)

If you have kids you can relate to this. (maybe)

At the Independence Day parade Riley sees a person dressed as an Ice Cream Cone and yells out "I'm gonna eat you!!!!"

At the Ringling Brothers Circus the motorcycles are driving the flaming cage of death, and Riley (3 years old at the time) screams “HOLY SHIT!” at the top of his lungs.

At an Aunt's pool party he jumps in the pool with his lifejacket on (which has a strap that goes between his legs) and upon surfacing yells out (to the whole family) "Oh man, my balls!"

At the 4th of July fireworks downtown, amidst the explosions and the 'oohs' and 'ahhhs' you could hear Riley yell "I'm having a seizure!!!!"

When his suit fell down on the slip and slide in the front yard last week- "Everyone look at my whitey butt!!!!!!!!"

McFAS (July 2007)

One of my children, who shall remain nameless, has recently had a flareup of a terrible illness. He has always had this chronic disease, but lately it has been unbearable. McFAS, or Middle Child Fairness Awareness Syndrome, is rearing it's ugly head in our lives. The tragedy of only spending one night at a friend's house has sent [said child] into a deep spiral of mother-hatred and McFAS. Yes, apparently spending 28 hours with your best friend is not enough. After an angry phone call, hanging up on his mother when he was denied the extra night, and refusing to shower when he returned home, our McFAS afflicted child is in the dumps. It couldn't be worse. ALL his other friends spend more than one night at other's houses. ALL his other friends have more fun. ALL his other friends have better toys and video games. ALL his other friends have pools or trampolines.
McFAS also causes unpleasant side-effects such as: uncontrollable pout, bottom lip swelling, eyebrow sink, downcast eyes, short temper, irrational anger towards parents, profuse whining, change in tastebuds (nothing tastes as good as it usually does), inaccurate comparisons, physical violence towards siblings, inability to get up on time in the morning, sometimes mumbling incoherently, and other times speaking at excessive volumes.
If you have two children and are thinking of a third- I beg you, consider the chances of McFAS--1 in 3 children are afflicted.
If you are a McFAS sufferer yourself, get help! Join a Life-isn't-Fair Support Group, or join a 12 Step Get-Over-It Program.
And, although rarely, McFAS can manifest itself in other children in the birth order. An occasional first-born has been known to be afflicted. But, don't confuse it with SRS, or Spoiled Rotten Syndrome, which often targets the youngest child in the family.

Bees (June 2007)

Don't shoo a bee out the window of your car while merging on the expressway. It blows back in.
Last Sunday, Mother's Day, we were leaving one family to visit the other. Riley was sitting behind me in nothing but his underwear. He ran through the sprinkler at Aunt Emily's house (unauthorized, of course) and his pants were soaking wet. As we were driving up the ramp to 131, I noticed a bee on my window, and quickly rolled the window down to shoo it out.
Within seconds Riley started screaming, and Mike swerved (on the on ramp) and yelled very loudly "It's on his leg!", which totally freaked Ry out more than he already was. I turned around to see the bee crawling inches from his underwear at the top his leg. It was like a moment frozen in time- Riley hysterical, Mike swerving, the boys trying to swat it, All I could do is stare at the whole scene. Mike continued to drive onto the highway while we were all yelling and turning around, so I finally yelled above the commotion "PULL OVER!"
Riley unbuckled while Mike swerved off. Ry proceeded to club the bee to death with Tobey's baseball bat, which was conveniently sitting on the floor at his feet. Tears streaming down his face, I asked Riley where it stung him. He wiped his eyes and said "Nowhere- that was a close one! Good thing we brought the bat!"
After that we got back on the road, everyone laughing about the yelling and the bee.
We reminisced about other times we had bee encounters. The last one was last summer while fishing on the deck of Grand River Park in Georgetown. Tobey and Mike were standing together with lines in the water, and Ry was sitting with Bren at the other end, and I was opposite. Everyone but Ry had lines in the water. The must have been a wasps' nest under the deck railing, because Tobey leaned up against it and they swarmed on him. He started screaming and spun around with his pole, snagging Mike's shoulder with his hook and wrapping them together in the line. Mike's pole swung up, hit the rail, and the hook stuck in Tobey's foot while the top of his reel fell off into the lake. Lines and wasps and hooks were everywhere, and Bren & Ry ran off the deck screaming. I was frozen- it was like a wierd dream where you can't move. I actually felt like laughing because it looked quite humorous, but after a few seconds I sprang into action. Using Mike's leatherman tool I cut the lines and we all ran off the deck to pick hooks out of each other. Tobey got stung in his ear and on his nose, but the only thing we really lost was one reel (and maybe some dignity- when it was all over we noticed a family on nearby playground equipment staring at us).
Anyway, when we were all laughing about it in the car after Ry killed the bee, he said "Boy, I wish I had that bat that day were were fishing!"
So I guess the moral of the story is... Always keep a baseball bat with you in case you need to kill a bee.

About that Age (May 2007)

It's a lovely Sunday afternoon. Seventy degrees, sunny, and we're getting ready to go visit Grandma and Grandpa. Church was uplifting, and all is right with the world. The boys run upstairs to change into shorts. Bren and Tobey come down and get in the car. Where is Ry? We call him, but he doesn't answer. I'll go help him, I say to Mike. I head upstairs, where Riley, who is sitting on Brennan's bed, is quickly shoving a piece of paper under the blanket. A very odd look is on his face. Not the "oh no I'm caught" look. Not the "I didn't mean to do it" look either. A sick, flustered, confused look.
What'cha doin? I ask. A quick "Sorry" was all he had to say. I pulled the paper out from under the blanket. A computer print out of a naked, well-endowed women was touching herself and smiling at me. Holy *&%$. As I felt my blood pressure rise and my head nearing explosion, I decided I better count to 10 and have a talk with Brennan. Good Sunday feelings, gone. Throwing up feelings, hello.
I brought the filth downstairs and showed Mike, who promptly started giggling. Not laughing, not a smile, but an outright giggle. "Well, I guess he's about that age". No- not my baby. So we sit Brennan on our bed and I rip into him. Apparently they got the photo from a friend of Brennan's. Apparently a foosball table may not be the best location for storing porn. No one should look at this crap, I tell him. To Mike's amusement I went as far as telling Brennan and Tobey that they will be able to see boobs and crotch only when they are married. Find a wife and then you can do whatever, I say. I made it clear that their 'privacy' does not really exist, and as long as they live in my house I will look wherever I want in their room. There will be no porn in my house. They can hide nothing from me. I even threw the Bible at them, going into detail about the sin of lusting after a woman. When asked about how they felt about the picture, it became clear that they were grossed out by the whole thing (much to my relief). Riley is ok with it, not too traumatized, also in the grossed out way of thinking.
Now that all my babies have poluted their minds, I am struggling. I still kiss and hug Brennan, and he cries when he gets hurt and needs me. Me. His mommy. The visual of him looking at that picture makes me sick. Riley sits on my lap and watches Clifford the Big Red Dog. He still calls me 'mommy'. Innocence lost, that's what it is. I knew it would come someday, but not like this. Oh well.
Brennan is grounded this week, and will be writing me a one-page essay on the importance of responsibility. Tobey is not going to talk about it to anyone, and Riley is not going to talk about it either. Especially not at the top of a slide. Not at school. Not anywhere.
And Mike keeps wondering now that he's married when he'll get to see...

10 Foot Parameter (May 2007)

Have you ever felt the urge to stand on the top the tallest slide on the playground and yell out something? Maybe "I love (insert name)!" or "Whoopeeeee!"?
Well, on Saturday afternoon at the ball park Riley climbed to the top of the slide and yelled out "I'm a @#$%ing idiot! Yeah!"
Why?
I don't know.
Probably the same reason he put chicken grease on his hands (see blog entry called "Yesterday").
What I do know is that a grandmotherly type lady walked up to Mike and told him she heard Ry yelling it over and over from the top of the slide. Unfortunately, Riley does know the "F" word. He used to just know it as "The F Word" (he didn't know the actual word). Alas, now it is clear that he knows the actual word and can use it in context. When Brennan was six he still thought Barney was cool.
We explained to Riley that when he yells things like that in public, people probably think his parents call him those names. We explained to him that verbal abuse is just as bad as physical abuse, and went as far as telling him that maybe someone would call the cops if they heard him talk like that. Of course, he's seen enough episodes of "Cops" to know that it would not be good if that happened. I can only imagine what visions of tazing, tackling, and pepper spraying he had in his head. Score one for "Tazed and Confused: Cops Special Edition".
Mike and I have been semi-faithful disciples of "Parenting With Love and Logic", a must-read for every parent. We have tried to create consequences that match the actions. We say things like "that's a bummer" and "that's too bad" when our children realize they made a bad choice. After some careful thought and a splitting headache, we came up with-- 10 foot parameter. Yes, a parameter. When we are outside of our house, Riley is confined in an imaginary 10 foot cage around Mike or I for the next week or so. We explained to him that we can't trust his choice of words, so he has to stay within earshot of us at all times, and we figure that's about ten feet.
Well, as you can imagine, he's not too happy with that.
I'm starting to wonder how happy I'll be with that... I'll be tethered to a boy who can't sit still and can't stop himself from talking...
"When I get out of this amiter I'm gonna run away!" he told me this evening. Also when he's out of my 'amiter' he's officially changing his name to "RJ", because he met a girl named Riley at the park. I wonder if that's what caused the top-of-the-slide comments... Nah.
Also, my 5th grader has informed me that have misused the word "parameter" and I should have used the word "perimeter". After looking both words up, I convinced him that "parameter" does in fact work, as it is a definition of a guideline. What I didn't tell him is that I think I should have used "perimeter", as it would have made more sense. He doesn't read this blog, so as long as no one talks, I'm still the expert :)

Spring Break (March 2007)

Spring "Break" has a new meaning for me. Now that it is almost over, I can breathe a sigh of relief. There have been a lot of "breaks" at our house.

Monday was Mystery Break Day. No one really knows what happened, but somehow the wires to dad's stereo speakers all got disconnected. I put a CD on in the afternoon, and no sound came out. I examined the CD- fine. Plugged in- yup. Volume up- check. I pulled the entertainment center away from the wall to check the speaker connections- disconnected. Not just disconnected, but crammed into the wrong holes and air vents on the back of the system. One was stuck in the back of the XBox. Broke. Great. As soon as I stuck my head up over the top of the cabinet and saw the boy's eyes immediately burning holes in the carpet, I knew someone was guilty. Alas, in the past few months they have created a weird 'code of silence' in which no one confesses. They just sit there. I didn't say a word and began putting the wires back where they belonged. After a few uncomfortable minutes, they confessed. They were trying to hook up the XBox and they tripped on the cords, they said. Who did it? I asked. All of us, they said. How three boys can fit behind an entertainment center I'll never know. Anyway, I fixed it.

Tuesday was Jewelry Destruction Day. While trying to put one of my necklaces on, Riley discovered that chains are not elastic. Also new to Riley- you have to have a hole in your ear to put an earring on.

Wednesday was Dismembered Inkpen Awareness Day. Apparently the tiny springs in the clicky pens are worth their weight in gold- to a 10 year old. While attempting to jot a note while on the phone, I found that the ink cartridge in my pen popped right inside the tube so I could not use it. The next pen did the same. When questioned, the code of silence was hard to break, but I finally got through to them and Brennan confessed. He wasn't sure where the springs were, but he would look. After about 3 hours I just threw the pens away.

Thursday was Break-a-Door Day. Tobey opened their bedroom door and then Ry crashed into it, ripping it off the hinges. Riley swore he wasn't running, but after examining the state of the door, he admitted he may have been 'going quicker'. Lucy and Wyatt had fun watching me use Gorilla Glue and a power drill to fix the door in the middle of the living room floor. Lucy told me "my house has a door". "Uh huh..." I said with a smile, grinding my teeth. Riley reassured me that 'for a girl' I was pretty good with the drill.

Friday was Break a Brother Fun Day. Brennan, who has newfound anger and a need to be away from Riley, punched him in the head and called him an "immature idiot". When questioned about the incident, Ry said through the tears "He told me I was a idiot in nature!" Later in the evening, Brennan was losing a made up game of
some kind, and whipped a ball at Riley's head. Score one for Bren. He won a one way trip to bed.

Tomorrow is Saturday, and I just can't wait to see what's in store on the next day of "Spring Break"!

Chicken Grease (March 2007)

So here's what got me thinking of making a blog...
Yesterday morning it was raining. Mike said he would take the boys to school (apparently they will play in the rain and in puddles, but cannot walk to school in it). On the way there his car stalled several times, so he made it back home and took the van to work. After work he decided to take the frequently stalling car to the gas staion for a fill up, and--go figure-- it stalled. At the station, at the pump.
Meanwhile.....
At home we had just finished dinner when Mike left, and no sooner had I sat down on the toilet then... Riley starts screaming, Brennan is yelling "Mom! Riley's bleeding all over!" I leap up and run out of the bathroom to find Ry holding his hands up to his face and blood pouring out all over himself and the carpet. "Get over the sink!" I yell, and Ry grabs my hand- his hand is covered in grease! "What happened?" I ask. Brennan proceeds to tell me that Riley thought it would be fun to put the grease left in the frying pan on his hands and slide on the wood floor. Unfortunately, his hands slipped forward too fast and he did a face plant. Right as I'm gathering information and trying to stop the nose bleed, the phone rings. It's Mike- can I come and get him? His car stalled at the pump.
I reply- "It'll be a minute... Riley has chicken grease on his hands and his nose is bleeding!" By now the dog has licked up the grease from the floor (and the blood), so I put Ry on the couch and give him a rag for the blood and some ice for his nose, which is now swollen and red. I go get Mike, who then calls John to come and tow him back to our house. Of course, when they get there the car starts right up and Mike drives it home. John is a little bummed he didn't get to tow anyone, so we invited him in for a beer. The evening ended with nice conversation, a few beers, and a bag of Hershey's Milk Chocolate Truffles.