A Pee!

We have a pee to announce! A pee to blare from the rooftops! A pee to give thanks for! A pee from a little boy who has never had a successful pee in the potty, on the floor, or anywhere except the comfortable confines of a diaper. I would have given this kid a piece of candy for peeing in the middle of the floor at Walmart, at church, on my lap, anywhere! I am envious of people who have to deal with "accidents" because that means that they are at least at the level where accidents can eventually be stopped. See, I've been in a pre-accident stage with no hope that I will ever clean up anything except a diaper. We have had a major holder-situation on our hands, of the UTI variety.
But today! Today of all days! He was running around at my parent's house all afternoon, with my 7-year-old brother, playing with squirt-guns (I don't think that there's a toy on the market that could inspire a little boy to pee more then a squirt-gun, come to think of it) and when David went to pick him up he pulled his diaper down a little and peed in a bush! Just willy-nilly! As if this has never even been an issue. As if, "I pee. I've got no problem with peeing. What? Did you think that I was never going to pee?" David tried to hit the right chord of exuberant praise but casual acceptance (we're saving the champagne for after bedtime) so as not to scare the you-know-what out of him (pun intended - crass as it may be).
Granted, it wasn't in a potty, it was in a bush. But you know, if I need to station a couple of bushes around the house, no problem, it will be worth it. And granted, he wouldn't pee in the potty tonight at home. He used his usual phrase, "ummmm...not tonight, maybe in one day." BUT the fear of the diaper-less pee has suffered its first serious blow. In fact, he ended the night by saying, "You didn't know that I was peeing with David. It was fun to pee with David." I think that David may be making the move to Maryland with us, well David and that bush.
P.S. On second thought, as per the second sentence of this post, I don't want to blare the ACTUAL pee from the rooftops...that could just be messy.

Anecdotal Evidence

I had the opportunity over vacation to witness several episodes involving my son, Moses, who is three and half and my brother, Vid, who is seven that have given me a great deal of anecdotal evidence that the age of reason is indeed a reasonable idea.

Proof One: The Quadet (Chocolate)
Shortly after noticing that the 4 or 5 bars of chocolate left over from S'more making are missing Moses jauntily walks out of the bedroom that he and Vid are sharing, his mouth smeared with a brown substance, and a BIG grin - clearly unable to repress his great joy. He announces in a loud voice to all in the listening area, "We ate AAAALLLLLLLL the quadet! It was VEEEERRRY naughty!"
Vid looks at him as if to say, "Have you no sense?! You are not required to incriminate yourself, or ourselves!"

Proof Two: The Pond
The next door neighbor of the vacation house that we use on vacation has a backyard pond, the kind with a little waterfall and it's about 4 ft. deep. I did not know this. I did not know this when Vid and Moses were quiet for 10 minutes. I found this out when we called them and Moses responded, very matter-of-factly, that they were throwing rocks in the pond. I imagined them throwing the little pebbles that make up the driveway and told them to stay away from the neighbors pond.
Another thing that I did not know, a thing that we learned from the neighbor the next day, and from the police who accompanied him, was that the boys had actually been throwing in large pieces of the slate WALL that surrounded the pond. Vid also dumped a gallon bottle of algae killer and killed all the fish. We do not know yet if they tore the lining to the pond.
I believe that Vid was duly chastised by the presence of law-enforcement and a stern talking-to by my parents. When all this came to light David and I were out. When we came back Moses was very upfront in his confession that, "We did DAMAGE. Lots of damage. It was a very naughty thing to do." I wouldn't say that his response was un-remorseful, just unaware.

Proof Three: The Fight
The boys are playing with some blankets and some dogs. A lot of rolling around and laughing and such. Suddenly there's a kuffuffle and my mom steps in to intervene.
Grandma: What happened?
Moses: He pushed me!
Grandma: Vid, why did you push him?
Vid: Because he hit me!
Grandma: Who hit first?
Moses: He did!
Vid: He did!
Grandma: Well, who is telling me the truth?
Moses: He is!

He clearly has not reached the Age of Reason yet. Vid is so much wiser in the ways of the world - he knows it is just not a "reasonable" thing to be so upfront with ones misdeeds while Moses is just happy to have had some quadet!

My-Cation

We are headed out for a little over a week on vacation with my family, or as Moses calls it, "my-cation". It is his-cation because since having children I have become very aware of how it isn't really my-cation anymore. It's a change of pace that's very welcome but it is still a LOT of work. In some ways it is more work then being at home with them but it is still wonderful and it is still time with my family that I love.
Speaking of my-cation though, David just finished his last week of high-school teaching this week so his-cation has started and with it my-cation is well under way. I can't even tell you what a relief it is. The end of this school-year was like the sprint at the end of a race where you're already worn out. BUT it's over and everybody is walking on air. Moses has been so unreasonably cooperative the last 3 days. I feel like I have a different child suddenly. Sometimes all we need is a little daddy...
OK, I'll check back in when we get back - I hope this next week treats you all well and that your life will feel like a your-cation even if you're still at home.
P.S. Turns out my 100th post was actually my 101st post...limited brain-power to go around my friend. I can't be expected to keep track of my children and my number of posts.

100th Post - On Peter Rabbit

Not the hundredth post on Peter Rabbit, that would really be something to crow about though, wouldn't it? That would probably be an indication that you might blog too much.
Recorded here are a couple of conversations, artificially combined into one conversation, that we've had with Moses about "the new baby."
Mommy: So, Moses - do you want to have a baby boy or a baby girl?
Moese: Ummmmm, maybe a girl or a boy or a baby or sumpin..."
Mommy: What would you like to name the baby if it's a girl?
Moses: How about Posie?
Mommy: Oh, so we'd have Lily and Posie, huh? Good idea. What about if we have a boy - what would you like to name a boy?
Moses: How about Missus TinkeeWinkle (Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, ala Beatrix Potter).
Mommy: I think that's a girls name - how about a different name.
Moses: OK, Peter Rabbit.
Daddy: Well buddy, you know that it's not going to be rabbit.
Moses: (with enough exasperation to convince you that he's actually 15 or 16) I KNOW daddy. It's a baby, not a rabbit (inaudible "duh!" followed by a long ponderous pause). But maybe there could be a rabbit in there too!

Oh, that's what those two long, pointy ear-like things were in the ultrasound...well, now the only question is, what should we name the rabbit?

Hot enough for the POOL!!!

'Nough said.

Congratulations to the bearded boys

If I have a sport, it's hockey. If I have a team, and I DO, it's the Red Wings. I say, IF I have a sport because in recent years sports have moved lower and lower on my list of interests and time-consuming events. I do love to have college football on in the background during the fall but that's really more of an ambiance thing then anything else, if I'm going to be honest here.
But hockey, I really do enjoy watching. I understand it better then other sports, due to early adolescent influences. The Wings were good back when my mind was a sponge, and the other Detroit sporting establishments were not so much good as much as they were really bad. By the time I moved to a college town and football became socially important my mind was already losing its sponge-like quality and it was also filled with really important things like boys and theology, most likely in that order. Consequently, I have to have the same rules explained to me every time U of Michigan plays Ohio State. But luckily I have four brothers and a husband who I can rotate between and hopefully they don't realize that I'm asking them all the same questions over and over.
So, back to my first sport-love, hockey. Last night the Wings won the Stanley Cup again! There was much relief in our home. Relief for me that we won and relief for David that I didn't ACTUALLY bite his hand off during that last 30 seconds, although I did leave a mark.
Winning reminded me of the year where we lost in the final rounds and I cried. CRIED, like a baby. Then the first year that we won the cup (in my memory) and I cried. Then the year that we watched the winning final game with my friend Betsy as she nursed a dying baby goat and she cried. Last night there was no crying but I was happy. Congratulations to the Wings!
P.S. I'm NOT a fan of the weird bearded woodsmen thing going on with all of these guys. I'm going to join the Facebook group "1 million strong against Crosby growing a beard".

This Mother's Guilty Pleasures

There are two things which I am experiencing an inordinate amount of pleasure in, especially when I should probably be ashamed of them instead. Since I'm blogging about them I guess that makes me shameless.
Guilty Pleasure #1. The fact that Lily is now old enough to be at least mildly distracted by Baby Einstein. The joy of putting Moses down for a nap and then pulling out the mini-rocking chair and letting Lily climb up and down and sort of watch the dancing toys while I lay on the couch and shut my eyes...THAT is guilty pleasure #1.
Guilty Pleasure #2: The fact that Lily is now old enough to eat McDonald's chicken nuggets. The freedom, the freedom! A person can just get into the car and go, if needs be, knowing that somewhere there will be a pair of golden arches which will satisfy the ENTIRE families need for sustenance (i.e. salt, fat and sugar). No more being trapped to the apartment by the need for separate food preparation for one family member.

My mother should be, and probably is, appalled. She "did not raise you like that!".

Quickie

*1-year old threw-up all over daddy in his work-clothes. It's going to be a long day.
*Bought a $400 dollar book for $4 on Saturday at a garage sale! Did NOT tell them what suckers they were, tempting as it was.
*Missed out on buying a $3000 book for $4 at same garage sale (3rd edition Darwin's Origin of Species).
*Hung out with good friend yesterday and am now worrying about her throwing up on her work-clothes.
*Can't stop thinking about where my furniture will go in new house. Can't stop talking about it either. Must be becoming annoying to be around.
*Almost died while singing for mass yesterday. OK, didn't almost die but really did almost fall over onto the keyboard player from the Kyrie to the first communion song. Bad blood-pressure day.
*Had a great book-club on Saturday night about "The Consequences of Ideas" by RC Sproul. My husband is so smart.
*Am so excited that my little baby-countdown thing is under 100 days! 6.5 months already people - who'da thunk? This goes by a lot faster the third time round.
*Am beginning to be plagued by all the things that we are leaving behind by moving. Am trying to avoid thinking about them and just trying to enjoy them while we are still here. There's plenty of time to think about them and mourn them once we are actually gone. Oi, it's going to be hard!