When boys become boys

Well, I’ve discovered it.  The age when boys become true boys.  I had seen the signs earlier, like when Ryder held up two fistsfull of dirt and told me “pretty dirt” and the way that they are able to make motor noises long before they form words, but apparently the boy genes really kick in at age 3 1/2.  3 years, 8 months to be exact.  I mentioned yesterday how Ryder told me to smell his poop, well today he leaned on my legs facing me and I heard a toot.  I asked if that was him and he laughed and said yes, then he started asking if I smelled it.  “Uh, no.  And I better not,” was my response.  This lit some kind of fire in him and he climbed on my lap telling me that he wanted me to, then he made his very “boy” move.  He turned around and put his tiny hiney in my face and demanded that I smell!  At this point, I am dying laughing but trying desperately to remove his butt from my face.  All the laughter does is make him think I am enjoying this little show and he begins to wiggle and bounce and beg me to “just smell my poot.”  I am happy to say that I finally gained control of the situation by informing him that I would puke all over him if he tooted in my face.  He did not like the thought of that, so he sat down and the episode concluded, but it was at that moment that I decided we have crossed a road into true boy humor and there is no going back I’m afraid.  His daddy will be so proud.  Nothing like a good booty shake and poot threat in someones, especially Mommy’s, face to get the guys totally tickled.

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Maybe a little much…

Ok, fair warning.  This might get a little gross and too personal for some, but again, this is the life at Chez Robertson. 

Ryder’s screams pulled me away from the compelling pile of towels I was trying to fold to tell me that he was pooping and wanted my company in the bathroom.  I know.  Being a mommy is great, right?  Of course, Rylan is already in there where he found a juice cup hidden in the tub this morning and decided the juice was still good enough to drink to warrant him spitting out chewed up Whales on the bathroom rug.  By the time I got back from cleaning that up, Ryder was finished and he instructed to smell his poop.  I boldly declined, but I did have the task of “clean up” at hand.  I threw the flushable wipe in the toilet and hit the flusher just as I leaned down to get his pants, and it was at this time that the toilet decided to splash me with poop water!  OMG!!!!  I almost puked on the spot.  I ushered the boys out and scrubbed my hands and offended arm at the sink thoroughly, but I still think a shower is in order, so I’m off to try and get super clean.  Just enjoy that thought for the rest of the day!

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Rylan

Some days I just have to laugh at my boys.  The things they do may make me crazy, but most of the time it’s just too comical not to chuckle.  Like yesterday, I was sitting on the back porch with the door open and the boys were meandering in and out.  Rylan had come out and shown me his “money” (a penny) he had found, God knows where.  Next thing I know, Ryder comes to the door and yells “Mom!  He’s got it in his mouth!”  I jumped up and yelled his name, which only made him giggle with delight as he took off running from me.  I chased the little stinker into his room and found him trying to hide behind the rocking chair and finding the entire situation hysterical.  I pinched his cheeks with one hand and instructed him to let me have it and out pops a penny!  He simply thought mommy was playing a really cool game with him, which as it turned out, made me laugh right along with him. 

So today, he starts telling me he wants a “peepop.”  It took me a while to figure it out, but what he wanted was a popcicle.  I dug one out and helped him eat it until it was a melty mess and then told him “gone gone” and put it in the trash.  It was at this time that he screamed at the top of his lungs and ran to the trash can.  I watched him flip the lid open as I washed my hands and just as I was drying them, I saw him reach into the can because he finally saw the popcicle package.  He was going to get it out and finish because his mean ole mommy must have lied when she told him “gone gone.”  I’m not totally crazy (yet) so I pulled him back and swatted his diapered butt while telling him no-no, and apparently broke his little soul because he let out a devastating cry.   Needless to say, Mommy won the popcicle battle, but it wasn’t the first, and I suspect that it won’t be the last, time I pull him out of the trash.

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It’s been a while…

Hello all!  Sorry it has been so long since my last post.  Things get a little crazy and busy around here.  We were out of pocket for several days while Zach’s sister got married, then we had company for a few days, and Ryder had oral surgery.  It never slows down! 

So we had gotten in the very lazy, bad habit of letting our children sleep with us since we moved.  Ya know, at 2 o’clock in the morning it’s a lot easier to give in than to fight, and then it became a big, ugly monster.  We decided that once we got home from the wedding we would try to remedy this situation, so last night was it.  Ryder became instantly hysterical when I told him he had to sleep in his bed all night by himself.  He immediately told me that he wasn’t in love anymore and that this was breaking his heart.  He also told me that he was “just so sad.”  He definitely has a flair for the dramatic, but nonetheless, he broke MY heart and I cried right along with him for a few minutes.  However, I stood my ground and after about an hour he realized I wasn’t giving in, so he settled down and told me he knew I loved him and he wasn’t going to cry anymore.  He then wanted to know if Daddy could still watch TV with him.  “Yes.  No problem.”  Then he asked if I would still tuck him in and scratch his back and sing his night night song.  “Of  course.”  Next he asked if we could read a book.  “Hmm.  I see where this is going, but fine.  Ok.”  So once I turned off the TV, he reminded me of the book deal.  Two books later, I turned off the lamp and scratched his back and sang his song and he rolled over and said, “Now scratch my arms and legs and hair.”  At this juncture, I simply said no and I kissed him and we went to SEPARATE beds.  Around 12:30ish, Rylan started crying so Zach went to check on him and, of course, Ryder was at my side.  I took him back to bed 2 times and on the third the trip back to his bedroom I heard the batteries going down in the smoke alarm.  You all know this sound all too well.  It never fails that these things will only beeb in the middle of the night.  I went back and told Zach, who just sighed and said “bring him in here.”  I’m sorry, but our queen size bed isn’t big enough for the 3 of us.  Ryder sleeps sideways.  Absolutely not.  Zach, not wanting to deal with the smoke alarm, says he’ll sleep in Ryder’s bed and we could sleep in our room.  That was the last I knew until I got up this morning to check on everybody and found a small ottoman pulled over to Ryder’s door and looked up to see exposed wires where the smoke alarm used to be.  Apparently, the beeping was too much for Zach, too. 

Naturally, the night that we finally decide to be tough and make the boys sleep alone is the night that the smoke alarm, in Ryder’s room, wants to act up.  We’ll try it again tonight, but who knows what will keep us awake this time.

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You’ve officially been drummed

My children, who can be so similar at times it scares me, can also be as different as night and day.  Ryder, who got tubes put in his ears shortly after turning 1, hates loud noises.  Rylan thinks the louder the better.  Therefore, Rylan loves to play drums.  He actually has a little drum set that is just the right size for him and if he’s not drumming on it then he is drumming on the walls, the furniture, anything.  Yesterday was no exception.  One problem, however, was that he could only find one drum stick.  Never fear.  He located the wooden spoon that I threaten to beat them with when they get out of line and it worked quite well for a drum stick substitution.  That is until he found Ryder hiding in a corner and beat the crap out of him with his sticks.  I pulled Ryder out of the corner and asked what happened and all he could get out was “Rylan drummed me!”  People, it took all I had to not laugh in that poor baby’s face, but that was the funniest thing I had heard all day.  I decided I better be the responsible parent and I took away the drum sticks and distracted them both with a quick walk around the block.  So far today, no one has been drummed, but stay tuned.  You never know what is waiting around the corner…

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A day without incident

I’m sure this will actually be my curse, considering it is only 5:00 pm and the boys don’t go down until 9:00, but today has been fairly uneventful.  No serious injuries, no soaped bedding.  The washer is still leaking and I have no idea what we’ll do about that.  The best advice Zach was willing to offer me last night was “don’t turn it on and head to town.”  Gee, babe!  Thanks!  We will have to deal with this issue soon, as I cannot foresee towels on floor to catch the water as a permanent solution. 

Since today is so boring, I’ll leave you with a funny story.  After Ryder was hurt so badly on Sunday and had screamed through his stitches, I decided I would pick him up a surprise while at WalMart that afternoon.  He loves to look at the cakes and cupcakes, but I couldn’t see paying $20 for the Thomas the Train cake he was in love with, so I settled on the Shrek cupcakes.  I seemed to recall he thought they were cool, too.  Once I got home he asked if I had gotten him anything and when I said yes he became so excited and ran to the kitchen to see what fabulous new item Mommy had brought that brave boy.  He was grinning ear to ear with excitement when I unveiled the cupcakes and without missing a beat or losing the smile he looked from the cupcakes to my face and said, “You shouldn’t have gotten those.  What else did you get for me?”  Well bust my bubble!  Of course, I had to explain that the cupcakes were the only surprise he had.  Way to make a mommy, who already feels guilty for having to hold her son down while a big, bad doctor stitches his little face, feel so much worse.  Never fear, he immediately go over it and dove face first into his cupcakes.

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It’s Monday all day…

As in true Robertson household fashion, my washing machine is leaking everywhere.  I’m guessing there is a hole in the drum.  I’ve been wanting a new washing machine for a long time, but who has that kind of money just lying around?  Especially when what I had still worked.  Apparently, not an issue anymore.  On the bright side, Zach sounded like he might actually come home early from work today.  Maybe I should break more appliances on a daily basis…

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