Monday, December 13, 2010

Lincoln City Follies!

What kind of mom packs ONE pair of shoes for a trip to the beach for a four year old boy? DUH!
Yet another nomination for lousy mother-of-the-year!

We are blessed with a family beach house in Lincoln City that we grossly under-use!

We packed up the troops and their endless gear (by the way, it's just as much crap for one night as it is for three) and met Jer's dad and his wife for a quick and fun weekend.


 Are we having fun yet? Can Daddy actually see out the back? Should Mommy be wondering if there is actually a bug in the bug watch on Carson's wrist??



And then Carson made Mommy super proud by writing his name in the sand .... thank God it was with a stick and not with pee. The boy has lots of random talent!



































Grandpa Rader and his precious grandsons!

Mini-me!

 Freeeeeezzzing and beautiful view!

 Grandma & Grandpa Rader

 This is a man-bag? So does it clash with my gloves?
 I make this look WORK!

 Chalking up for a game of pool!


 Almost ready to play!

 Not to be left out, we broke the house rules so everyone could feel involved!

 Why don't I get a giant stick like Carson did??

Friday, December 03, 2010

When Parenting Works

Awkward but Teachable Moments:

All said within earshot of victim.

1. Man with prosthetic leg in Target: "Look Mommy! That man has a robot leg!"

2. Obese man in Safeway: "Hahaha! Mommy that man has a FAT tummy!"

3. Very pregnant lady at the park: "Mommy, that lady has a baby in her tummy. And it's a SUPER BIG ONE!"

Each one of these totally embarrassing situations was followed by the lecture of: "Carson, we don't say those things out loud in front of the person. If you need to let me know, wait until we get home. We don't to hurt those people's feelings."

Let's hit rewind and jump back to Daylight Savings. A concept that is divine to teenagers who gain an extra hour of curfew for the Homecoming Dance.

BUT pure torture for parents of children under the age of five. Who is the world thinks that a 15 month old toddler understands he "gets" to sleep in the next day?

My children didn't get the extra hour of sleep memo. They were up bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5:40 am on Sunday morning. Surprise. Surprise.

I couldn't possibly imagine an extra hour stuck in the house on a cold rainy day (oh by the way, I'm not a creative parent who has brilliant ideas with play-doh, glitter glue, and cardboard boxes) so I Googled Winco.

Oh yes, Winco. The world of child leashes, butt cleavage, and an overabundance of Hispanic foods.

Glorious Winco is open, wait for it, 24 HOURS!

Yup. I printed up my grocery list, categorized by section, then alphabetized, and we loaded up.

I debated. Fit in with the early morning, 7 am, crowds and wear my jammies, or crank it up a notch and go with slippers and jeans.

But I digress. Shopping at Winco at 7 am is AMAZING! No crowds, no lines, no merging into aisles.

Carson talked me into a random bag of sesame breadsticks. $1.50? Whatever, he was being exceptionally good so I threw them in the cart.

And then it happened.

Classic Winco.

There was a tap on my shoulder. A voice that was mostly feminine. A faint swelling of breasts around the belly button area. A plaid flannel shirt. And a full mustache.

He/she launched into an elaborate description of how the $1.50 breadsticks I just mindlessly tossed into my cart make the most SUPREME Bacon Wrapped Treats.

Huh?

Carson, Keaton, and I were entranced by the gravelly and extensive, step-by-step instructions of how to transform a simple breadstick into a Martha Stewart specialty by wrapping it in bacon.

All the while, I'm thinking OMG is this a man or a woman. By the end of the long tutorial, I was 99% SHE was not a HE.

I scraped Carson's jaw off the crusty concrete floor, pretended to add a package of bacon, and hightailed it for the freezer section.

Bless my son's heart, he didn't say a word. But honestly I was so focused during the whole conversation at keeping my eyes above the hairy lip area that I nearly forgot about the boys.

Later that night, finishing up dinner, Carson says, "Mommy that lady looked funny today"

Play it cool Mommy, "Oh really honey? Why do you say that?"

C: Mommy, she looked like a man.

M: A man? How come?

C: Mommy, she had a mustache like Poppa"

M: Carson, I am SO proud of you for not saying anything about it today at the grocery store!!"

C: Well Mommy, we should only talk about that kind of thing at home. We wouldn't want her to feel bad."

HOLY CRAP!!! Our parenting is actually working!!

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

A Month Late but without Further Delay- Halloween Pics!

Super duper gooper guts!
Not a fan yet!
Yay! Guts!
Hard at work!



Does this look work for me? I'm just not growing hair fast enough!

Cold but clear and dry for our annual trip to Plumper Pumpkin Patch!

I wish, I wish, I wish for a princess! Isn't that what happens when you kiss a pumpkin?





 



Goofin' around with the sole astronaut helmet!

Watch me brother! This is how it goes!

Is this right?

Heading out to the annual Hook Halloween Party!

On a Mission!!


Halloween Parties are a lot of work!

Pajama Party at School! They make lounging look cool!

Like big brother, like little brother

Trick or Treating at Nana's office!

Cutest little Astronaut Ever!

Saturday, November 13, 2010

The Scoop

So my mom throws out there with much sadness in her voice, "So you've quit the blog, huh?"

She's very skilled in the Catholic guilt tripping. Why I fall victim, I have no idea. Never been to a Catholic church in my life, not counting weddings.

So yes, occasionally I post a few pics on Facebook of the boys and miss the blog. I will confess to spending too much time on FB. Wanna be my friend :)

My boys are the best. I just looked back at my last post and feel badly I haven't posted since my "OMG I can't handle it all!!" post.

I am taking an amazing class right now through my new company and I am in LOVE with it! Half real estate gems and half Oprah type gems! You heard all the buzz about "The Secret" a few years back?

Well this is the Keller Williams version of Oprah's epiphany!

Think positive and positive things will happen.

Set goals and you will make amazing things happen.

Change your views and you will change.

Oh yes, all that and more! If I pass along one more affirmation, quote, or idea to Jeremy, I think his eyes might roll out of his head. But it's just too good not to share!!

But anyway, I'm feeling much more empowered these days. More patience. More keeping the big picture in mind. More ability to let go of the little things, plan ahead, and make things happen! No one will do them for me or feel sorry for me when I whine I can't get them done. I own my own destiny!

Is that why Carson is having fewer and shorter tantrums/emotional outbursts? I don't know but I'd like to think so.

Carson is just the sweetest most caring boy in the world. He loves his little brother and shows it in so many ways. I've never seen a 4 year old share his candy bar with bro without being asked. Or kiss him on the head when he falls down. Or help unbuckle him when we're getting out of the car. I feel so grateful that they get along.

Keaton, my dear sweet baby boy, is no longer my baby but always will be. I have found myself staring at him wishing he would stop growing, stop aging, and be a baby forever. He's so innocent. So untarnished. So pure.

Keaton. The opposite of his brother. Naughty.

Never had to buckle Carson into his highchair. Didn't even know it had a buckle. Keaton, constantly trying to climb out.

Never had to worry about things ending up in the toilet with C. K has smashed his fingers in the lid multiple times and has attempted to drown several toys.

Shopping cart. Never an issue with C.  K has to be strapped in or we risk an escape and certain injury falling from the cart.

C was a garbage disposal. Would eat anything you put on his tray. Keaton, pickier than picky. Drives me insane trying to figure out what he'll turn down each meal.

Feisty little turd. And we love him.

He sleeps like a champ! I am BLESSED! I'll say it again (and risk jinxing myself), I am BLESSED with two amazing sleepers. Keaton routinely sleeps 12+ hours without so much as a sneeze. And he'd rather put himself to sleep rather than spend any time rocking in my arms.

Books? He don't need no stinkin' books! C loved books at K's age. K would rather throw them on the floor.

Not talking yet but just starting to sign. Milk, please, and all done. He likes to generalize and use "milk" for I want that!

He has ZERO patience for anything and takes it very personally if you dare take a toy away from him or shake your head. As in "YOU POKED MY EYES OUT" blood-curdling screams. Even Carson is scared take a toy away from him.

Things I've said or heard recently that only a mother would hear:

- Carson: Mommy, your coffee smells yummy. But only through one hole. The other hole has boogers in it and isn't working.

- Mommy (in context of a joint bath) to Keaton: Please don't touch his penis. Don't ever touch anyone's penis but your own. Oh, well I didn't really mean touch yours at this very minute. Please don't touch your penis.

- Carson's physical look of horror as he realized he just put a booger in my hair thinking he was putting it on his pillow during story time. My own disgust as I realized what the look of horror meant.

- Carson coming home from school and announcing on Monday: Mommy! I got married today! Isabella is my wife and I am her husband!

       Unfortunately when asked about his wife on Tuesday, Carson shook his head sadly and responded,      
       "She told me she didn't want to be my friend anymore."

Saturday, October 09, 2010

Pieces of the Pie

I have been struggling lately with finding a balance and hate the feeling that comes with not being able to do it all, and do it all well.

As a dear friend once explained to me, I am simply a pie. And a pie can only be cut into so many pieces. My pie used to just be a couple of huge, yummy slices, work & Jeremy.

Each year, I've squeezed more and more out of my pie.

Working full-time, mothering two boys, cooking, laundry, shopping, working out; each becomes a slightly smaller piece.

And in the end, there just isn't always enough to go around.

My pie pieces feel itty-bitty and are definitely not cut into perfect triangles.

My kids go to school with wild hair, breakfast on their chins, and occasionally, without jackets.

My meal last night was Kraft Mac N Cheese out of the famous blue box. For all of us, not just those 4 and under.

My carpet needs to be vacuumed.

My dog is shaggier than ever and gives me his sad eyes begging for more attention.

My poor husband receives the short end of the stick. My short fuse, my short patience, my inability to keep all three kinds of milk, whole, 2%, and skim stocked at all times.

I really don't mean to whine to the world but sometimes I get so overwhelmed by everyone needing me and read these un-real blogs of women who apparently were born to mother because life is always peachy-keen and they LOVE being a mom. I was clearly not born with that gene. Which is so weird because I thought I was.

That being said, I do love my boys, of course it's easier when they're being cute and silly. I am typing this after a monsterous 4 year old meltdown of epic proportions so I'm a bit jaded. Have you ever held a 40 pound kicking and screaming child on a toilet? Wouldn't recommend it. It's messy.

Without any more whining, here are so pictures of my precious blondies. I'm so lucky to have a very talented photographer friend who kept me on her short list after she gave up her job to spend more time with her boys. I would refer you to her blog for more amazing photography and inspirations.

www.shutterbugandthesweetlife.blogspot.com

Thank you so much Jennifer Cordero. And please, these photos are copyrighted, so you execs over at BabyGap, keep your hands off them... unless you want to contribute to the Carson & Keaton College Fund.














Those who know me, know I am an "all or nothing" kinda gal. So while some might say Keaton is walking, I am holding out saying it until he's "switched over" completely.

Keaton learned to walk SO differently than Carson. Carson (if my memory serves me correctly -which is questionable these days), took 1 step, then 3, and then ran right out of the room. Never looked back. Crawling was for babies.

Keaton took 1 step, then 2, then 3, then 2, then 4, then 4, then 2, then 6. He has no fear but clearly cannot figure out how to balance his giant noggin' without toppling over! This milestone has been a long time in the works with several weeks now of a few steps here and there.

He is now to the point where he can balance and take as many steps as he wants. But if his little legs receive an internal command to GET THERE NOW, his body tips forward at such an angle that the tree topples. Then crawling takes back over because it is much faster.

Selfishly, I really really want him 100% by Halloween because his costume will be SO much cuter!

Keaton is a doll. A LOUD doll. A feisty doll. And a doll that has just two little teeth.

Poor guy is harboring a lot of pearly whites up in those swollen gums and I fully expect him to wake up one morning with a mouthful of chompers that all popped out at once.

Carson. What can I say. Funny drama king.

He insisted on wearing his silver Power Ranger costume in the airport in Reno on the way home. With his red and gold Ironman shoes. You would have thought the President was walking through the airport for as much attention as he garnered.

The security guards made a pretense out of patting down his GIANT foam muscles. It was precious.

Each morning he tries on 20 different outfits to find the perfect one. I do feel badly because he is in an awkward phase of being in-between sizes.

4's are too small and "pull on my parts Mom". And I can't stand the highwater effect.

Yet he swims in 5's. I even bought a super cool www.myselfbelt.com to help keep his pants up. So he refuses to wear anything. Also turns out he doesn't like long shirts because he has to remember to pull them up or they get peed on. 

I've learned that if you just force him (earplugs and body armor help) to try something out, it can stick! He's worn size 5's two days in a row now! I won't count that battle as won just yet but we're well on the way.

And if you're wondering how I actually got time to update my stale blog, both boys are napping. This also means my dishes are still needing help unloading themselves and my vacuum just won't push itself around the room. And the dog, oh crud, I left him on the front porch again.

How Old is Carson?

How Old is Keaton?