Career Plans

Last night at dinner, we were talking to Zac about colleges and future career plans. We asked him where he would like to go to college, and Kansas, Harding and ACU topped his list (hmmm...wonder why he's been thinking about Kansas?). Then Scott asked him what he would like to be when he grows up.

"I'm going to be a sports player," he replied, as sincerely as you can imagine.

"Well, what will you be if that doesn't work out?"

"Probably a doctor," he answered. Seth chirped up, "I'm going to be a doctor too. We can be doctors together! I'm going to find a cure for gluten-free!"

"So, Zac," I said, "are you going to be a gastroenterologist too?"

He thought for a minute. "I haven't decided yet."

Maybe he can pay for medical school with the money he makes from his NBA stint.

The Best Laid Plans

It's kind of a slow news day today, so I thought I would recount a story from about a year ago--one worth recording. It also gets us all in the mood for summer...




In July of last year, Zac and Seth took swimming lessons down at our pool every day (except Fridays). I had seen an advertisement for jeans on sale at K-Mart, and, seeing as how school was coming up pretty fast, I decided we needed to go stock up. My plan was to get everyone going early, with swimsuits on, buy the jeans, then drop the kids off at the pool. K-Mart is probably a little over a mile from the house, so my idea was a seamlessly beautiful work of planning. By 9, everyone was dressed, buckled up in the car, and we were off.



We had K-Mart to ourselves. It was fantastic. I loaded up a cart with jeans of every size and we went to the dressing room. I put one boy in each room (Blane didn't need to try anything on because I knew his size), and I stayed outside the dressing room so I could hand the kids their jeans. By that time, the clock was starting it's upwards swing towards 10, so I was stressing a bit.



"Come on, guys...let's hurry! Let's hurry!" Then I heard Seth's little voice from over the door.



"Mom, I don't have any unduh-wehr on."



This had been a recurring problem with Seth, and I was exasperated that he had chosen this day to forget his whitey-tighties.



"Seth! I keep telling you you have to wear your underwear EVERY DAY!!"



"But Mom," he said plaintively, "You told us to put on our swimsuit, so we couldn't wehr our unduh-weahr."



So I did. This was completely my fault. "Okay, Seth, you're right." I told them to stay right there and I went to the underwear rack. Of course, everything was more than I wanted to pay for dumb old underwear. I picked out some Superman undies for the guys, opened the package and everyone could try on their jeans. We bought our jeans (and underwear), left the store and got the kids to their lessons just on time.



Two months later, Zac grew out of those jeans.

Horton Hears a Who

I took the boys to see "Horton Hears a Who" on Sunday afternoon. The theater experience is always exciting for them--it's dark! It's loud! Look at all those trailers! Since I am heading up the KC celiac support kids' group for the spring, I had planned a movie matinee for the kids (yeah, I know "Horton" is old, but it's hard to find universally appropriate movies for the younger set). Only one other family beside us came. They had a little girl who was about Seth's age, who latched right on to him. They sat next to each other in the movie and shared a GF cookie with him. She was hugging all over him and asking for a playdate when the movie was over.

As we walked away, Seth said in his Seth voice, "That guhrl was TOTALLY in love with me."

Ear Infection

Seth woke up crying early Sunday morning (as in, right after midnight). He said his ear was really hurting. This is usually what happens with the guys' ear infections...intense pressure for about 8 hours or so and then the dam breaks and the yuck drains out through the tube. It looks horrible, but they actually feel much better when it happens. I had to give him a dose of Tylenol and some Benedryl to sleep. Like clockwork, he woke up crying 4 hours later...and I gave him another dose of Tylenol. Even though he was half-asleep, he was worried that he wouldn't get to see the movie on Sunday afternoon, poor baby! I told him he would most likely be able to go.

Sure enough, by morning he was better and his ear was draining. We started his antibiotic ear drops and everything will be fine.

Seth's Robots

Seth is building three robots out of Blockhead blocks. He really wanted me to post this on the blog. So there you are.

Little messes

Well, all is OFTEN not sunshine and flowers here. For example, Tuesday I was hosting Bunko at my house. I wanted everything just right, so I spent all day cooking and cleaning. Right there...that's where the trouble started with those two statements. Things actually rocked along pretty well, but I was behind in what I wanted to accomplish the entire day. The frustrating thing was, I had to feed these little critters, or find something, or solve a problem, or break up a fight, etc EVERY few minutes. At least, that is what I felt like. I felt guilty for feeling like they were in the way. And, of course, Seth spilled an entire cup of purple grape juice on the floor (it was a risk, I know, but 9 times out of 10 it doesn't get spilled--who knew this was the one time? But I should have known...). Scott, bless his soul, was home early and mowing the lawn. He then took Seth to Sears with him, but Blane was still sleeping when he left, so I couldn't send him. Zac had to discuss different measures with me for a school project, so we rounded up quarts, pints, liters, cups and tablespoons--that took time. Then the kids needed dinner, so I sent them outside for a "picnic" on the benches. Blane tumped over his milk and was inconsolable until I cleaned it up. There were several complaints about the menu from someone who shall remain nameless but who was born between Zac and Blane. Zac needed extra cheese. They ALL needed me NOW. All within the hour before my guests were to arrive. Scott was going to take them to visit Grandma and eat Baskin Robbins during Bunko, and I was just wanting everyone to go NOW.

I was thinking the other day about a story I heard. A man was complaining about the money he was spending on his son. Another man replied, "I know what you mean. I spent lots of money on my son. But he died in a car wreck last year, and now, I don't spend one penny on him. Right now, I would give anything to be spending money on my son."

I know it is normal and natural to get frustrated with the little inconveniences and messes my sons create, especially when I am under a deadline (and pressure, I must admit, that is largly my own creation). I just want to remember that I want to be "spending" for my sons--that means they are here with me now. No matter what the little messes are, I must not forget that truth.

Questions while Strolling

This morning was really lovely--perfect temperature, everything. I told Blane we'd go on a walk. He's big enough to walk with me for quite a ways, but I wanted it to be real exercise for me, so I put him in the stroller. We (of course) had to go see the pool with the "yucky water" and I had to assure him many times that they would put "the clear" in soon. Throughout the walk, he was asking me constant questions, about when the pool would have the blue water again, and what we were seeing next, and other random questions about houses or birds or trees...anything he saw. It was pretty much non-stop. The difficult part was that he talked in that soft little voice of his, and as I usually have to hear exactly what he is saying to understand what he is talking about (he has these unusual idioms for describing things--someday I'll make a list). I could not hear him perfectly with him facing forward and over the noise of the stroller. So I had to stop and walk around to face him and listen. I was able to get the general context of most of his questions (many times he just wants confirmation of the obvious), so I said, "Yes." most of the time. Tonight I told Scott about it all. He said that he often tells Blane that he's asked enough questions. But it's a little hard for the mommy to do that--that's part of a mommy of a three-year-old's job.