Critical Moments in Parenthood

I had one of these this morning...I think.
Before I go on, I should probably apply a sub-heading here: Raising Jonathan.

This child is so unbelievably hard to predict--which, most of the time, just adds to his charm. Other times it makes my hair prematurely grey, and often even makes me wonder what in the world I've done wrong...you know, to bring out the crazy.

But what I find happens the most is that his randomness just makes me LAUGH. Problem is, it's usually at a moment when I know full well I shouldn't be laughing. That "critical moment" as a parent when you know that falling apart in giggles will only bring about more of the behavior at hand.

Yesterday it was at the park, when Jonathan was playing with his brother and a few pals in the giant sandbox. I was chatting away with his friend Henry's mom, while the boys enacted all sorts of super-hero scenarios in and out of the sandbox...seemed innocent and normal enough. Until that moment...the one where you're listening to your friend tell a story, and yet you see something unfolding that is going to completely derail everything she's saying.
And that "something" would be my son Jonathan, butt-ass-naked, doing a jig in the woodchips and laughing hysterically.
It's like all of the decorum of a normal adult conversation is lost...it simply can't survive moments like these. And I feel badly, because I feel like I am constantly the unattentive friend, neighbor, etc. in conversations. Well, when Jonathan's around, anyway. It's like the worst case of ADD...and it happens everywhere: the playground, the neighborhood playtime scene, on the phone (don't even GET me started on the impossibility of that), the preschool pickup, really just about anywhere we are. I am unable to maintain focus on anything, because Jonny is always---I mean always--a few beats away from entering Crazyland.

I'd like to mention here (kinda off-topic) how grateful I have always been for the friends/family members who get it...maybe they have boys themselves (and this is the best padding of all, really) or they simply just appreciate the goofiness. I'm always super relieved to have a friend laugh right outloud with me when Jonny strips naked--it takes the pressure off in a way. Unlike those awful moments when I find myself around moms (who either have only girls or are just plain uptight or grumpy--I find it's most often the latter) whose children are just happily playing, quietly and without much fanfare, by themselves on the playground. Jonathan pretty much ruins those idyllic moments for the parents of those children in a matter of minutes. And my attempts to bring him back to Earth only seem to make things worse--or rather, me more embarrassed by the amazing contrast in behavior.

Fortunately I find myself mostly delighted at my child's craziness. Yes, it's awkward in public when he chooses to "sing" his order to the Jersey Junction employee (Hey now, you're a rock star, getch-yer game on, go PLAY! Spiderman popsicle!!)...or when he decides to pat his "pee pee" and laugh uproariously in the cereal aisle at the grocery--you know, instead of just saying "I have to pee, Mommy". These moments try me on a daily basis...and often embarrass me.
But deep down I'm pretty much enjoying the ride.
He is one difficult kid to predict--and holy cow, it can be fun. And almost always funny.

This morning I was in his room while he got dressed when he turned to me, shirt on and no pants...underpants on, but with a special surprise sticking out of the "hole" in front. And his face said it all: this had just been way too hard to resist for him.
"Mah-hah-hah-meee..." (he could hardly talk for the ensuing giggles to come) "Look at my pee pee...it's sticking out..hahahahha...it wants to be out!"

I'm not sure if it was the sheer sight of his lil' snausage poking out of the underwear "hole" that made me laugh the most...or if it was the rationale that he applied to the situation. Apparently the pee pee has feelings, too, and just needed to get some air.

Anyway, I think I managed to look disapproving for all of .2 seconds...and then I just lost it. And the look on his face when I began to laugh was just so Jonny. It's a look I see often--and while it's harmless, it often makes me worry about the longer-term impact. It's an expression that says "Haha, yeah, I'm a little bit crazy and a whole lotta naughty, but damn if people don't seem to find me funny..."

Sigh...what's to be done?
I guess the most important thing is that the child's got spirit...and total personality. And at the end of the day, it's this fact alone that makes me feel ok. I just pray he's not the one launching spitwads at highschool graduation.

The Gender Files

Not finding out "what" we're having this pregnancy has caused a lot of conversation...with friends, family, etc...but mostly with our boys. And every bit of it's been hilarious. So add yet another reason to my ever-growing list of reasons NOT to find out what you're having: witnessing the reasoning in your little ones' heads as they ponder which would be more fun. Or even better--what the name of said child should be.

Today's conversation with Benjamin was so hysterical it made me feel like blogging again. Moments like these...they're the reason I ever did this in the first place, so it's fitting.

Sitting next to me on the front porch and playing "I spy", each of us with a popsicle:

Benjamin: "I think I know what your baby's name should be, Mommy, if it's a girl."
(also hilarious that it's just randomly going to be "my baby"...not his sister or brother, etc.)

Me: "Oh yeah? What do you think?"

Benjamin: (with no trace of humor in his voice) "Peaches."

Me: (forearm over mouth to suppress laughter, so as to get to the next obvious question and have the answer delivered with equal seriousness) "And what if it's a boy? What would we name him?"

Benjamin: (pausing to look at sky while working on popsicle--and then suddenly looking proud of his certainty on the matter) "Grilled Cheese."


Well, OBVIOUSLY that settles that ongoing debate in my head.

Thanks, Steph.

Had a great dinner out with a friend tonight...great food, good drinks (they are possible without booze, who knew?)...but of course, even better conversation. It was during this very lily-pad-style (a Meg-ism to be explained another time) chat that the following phrase was used: "10, 20 years from now...what will be most important to me? what choice will I be happiest with?"
And it was in that moment that I finally turned the corner this week from being frustrated, grumpy, sad, lonely...and just overall pissed off (God I love how much more honest I can be on my blog that on fucking facebook) at the state of my single-mommy-hood.
I'm not even going to get into that topic right now...it's too personal and far too nuanced and complicated to put out there right now--but suffice it to say, I needed a good night out with a friend. Also didn't suck that I heard one of my favorite songs in the car tonight while driving to meet my friend for dinner--Forever Young by Rod Stewart. Cheeseball? Oh yeah...totally. But if you haven't heard it for a while, I suggest listening to it super freakin loud in your car. And if you have kids, well, good luck not getting something out of it.

Anyway.
So fast-forward to my sitting down at the computer tonight, exhausted and ready to just quick check email and facebook and go to bed...yet finding myself writing the most ridiculously long list of things I'm grateful for and happy about in my status update. Now, for one, no one needs to be that damn smug and happy on their FB page...but also? I had too much to say, so here I am.
And if I didn't think it was so damn important to write down (for my own posterity), I wouldn't even bother. After all, my lack of blogging the past several months has had nothing to do with life being boring or without moments of interest---it has, rather, had everything to do with my lack of committment to anything that takes more than 5 minutes of my time.
Pathetic.

So, here's my list (because I do love a list). Moments of meaning, bullet-pointed tales of adorableness, random shit...you get the idea--basically just the many things (and only in the last week) that help me to better answer those afore-mentioned questions discussed with my friend. The stuff of my convinctions. Here are a few:

*Benjamin taking Jonny's hand to walk him to the front of church last Sunday morning...a routine moment in the church service, when the kids are excused to church school...but also a moment, until this past Sunday, that has REQUIRED my accompanying Jonathan to the front steps. And yet this time, he just went with his brother. I will never, ever, ever forget the image of the two of them walking down the aisle away from me...Jonathan squeezing "Benny's" hand...or the way they looked standing next to one another, still holding hands (with super serious expressions) while they recited their response to the congregation.

*the always ubrupt noise of their voices in the morning--but how precious and adorable it is at the same time, as they chatter from their bunk beds and discuss their plans for the day--or, in their case, the next ten minutes. I cannot put into words how extra adorable they have become with these bunk beds--better sleepers, better friends...better brothers.

*Benjamin, upon realizing this morning that we had to "take Mr. Hoppy back to preschool", crumbling into a million, sad little pieces. Not grumpy, stubborn, I'm-not-getting-my-way-crying....no, that would be easier to take. But real, heart-wrenching sadness over having to "say goodbye to Hoppy". Mr. Hoppy had, afterall, in Benjamin's own words---"been such a great buddy and so fun to take care of".
I will never forget the way he pulled himself together in the car and announced to me, just as we were pulling up to preschool: "I just don't want my friends to see that I'm sad...but I really am inside. I just love Hoppy so much and hate seeing him leave our home."
I'll also never forget the subsequent trip Benjamin made with me to Pooh's Corner this afternoon...a rare moment for the two of us to be alone together, when he had the chance to pick out a "new friend who needed a home". Not sure what was more touching--the way he took such time in selecting the perfect stuffed dog (because P.S. there are a LOT of freakin choices at Pooh's Corner), or the way he announced to the cashier that he'd found the one animal that "most looked like he wanted to get out of this store"...that line actually made me laugh right out loud, but I knew exactly what he meant, and it was precious.
We had an imaginary ladybug hunt when we got home, as it was determined on the ride home that that would be the meal of choice for the new pet. Yup...that was pretty damn adorable, too.

*the way Jonathan ALWAYS seems to be saying one of the following to me: "sshhure, Mommy!", "thanks, Mommy!", or "yeahhh...let's go, Mommy!"...the kid is just so damn positive. when he's not whining.

*reading about Dinosaurs with Benjamin on the couch and realizing it's 1:30 in the afternoon...and that in a very short amount of time I'll wonder if I was appreciative enough of those moments while they happened.

*the way Jonny HAS to hug me after he comes downstairs from a nap...regardless of how charged up he is to play with his brother--insists on a quick hug and snuggle.


There are so many more...always are. But for now I'm tired and approaching the non-sensical form of writing.
Just want to say...for myself and no one else...that even though I spend loads of time and energy wishing for my husband to be around more...and plotting ways to sabotage his sushi and champagne dinners with clients while I fish poop out of the bathtub...I want it to be said that I'm happy. Content. Grateful...maybe even a bit victorious.
Because I'm just so damn GLAD that I'm right here, not missing any of it. Not for a second.

There's going to be time for a lot of shit in the future...but not a chance for any of this.
Color me grateful...and blessed.

Just when you think bedtime's safe again...

...it's not.
Not at all, in fact.

We have, in the Richards house, a fairly firm and steadfast bedtime routine...bath, quick show on Sprout (boys love The Goodnight Show--and Brian doesn't hate the female host), glass of milk, story, quick song, prayers...and lights out. Whole routine takes about 30 minutes.
And it has, for the most part, been fool-proof.
Meaning...the boys go to sleep.

But somewhere around the time that Jonny learned to crawl out of his crib (days after he was born?)...the interpretation of bedtime has been a bit loose on his part. Up for debate.
Days when he's worn out and hasn't had a nap...goodnight.
But days when he's had the least bit of a nap...well...the whole "goodnight routine" is a mere opening act for his show.
I cuddle and sing to him, kiss him good night...revel in the sweetness of our goodnight moments and his soft skin, tuck him in with his favorite blankies, exchange I love yous, you get it...but for him, it's just the drop-off before a total party.

Antics have ranged from emptying out the contents of his drawers, baskets of lotions, etc....to sitting in our bedroom closet "reading books"...to full-on hanging out on our living room sofas, unbeknownst to us, only to eventually pop his head up and announce his presence to us--in the adjacent room, watching TV.

So when I got home from Meijer tonight, put the groceries away, got the down-low from Brian about how the boys went down, what cuteness occurred...and how long Jonny's usual game of whack-a-mole went on...you know the one, the state fair favorite, where the little mole heads pop up annoyingly (but happily) and no matter how many times you send them back into their holes with a mallet--they just pop the F right back up again.
That's Jonny...minus the mallet.
Anyway...so when I'm on my second bite of Meijer sushi, we hear a *clunk* from up in the bathroom. Non-plussed, we both shrug our shoulders and Brian heads up to put J back in bed.

Except...this time he's taken it to a whole new level.
This time he's gotten into my makeup...and is wearing it. Like...really wearing it. Smears of brown goo* are covering his face, neck, back of neck and of course, his hands. Brian appears in the doorway to the kitchen with him, and immediately--I'm a deer in headlights. I am just utterly stunned. On the one hand, TOTALLY freaked out at the appearance of this child...and on the other hand, wanting not to give away with my expression just how hilarious I think the situation is.
Oh, and I'm also reaching for the camera.

The pictures tell it all...you see the disaster all over his face...but you also see separate expressions: one of fear for the punishment to come, one of relief that his daddy and I are clearly not totally pissed--stifling giggles, if I'm being honest...and also, one of true Jonathan pride in the most recent of his stunts.

Only real thing I'm worried about at this point, as he's been cleaned up, changed into new pjs and plunked back in bed, is the sheer cost of replacing the makeup and brushes (those puppies aren't cheap) he ruined.

But for now, back to my sushi.
Oh yes, and that glass of wine.

And so it goes in this house of ours...*sigh*.

*origin of said "goo" on his face has yet to be determined by me...I don't own anything resembling foundation, only brown eyeliner, some concealer (that wasn't touched), loose mineral powder, and some random eye shadows...oh, and a lipstick that--yes--was completely and totally smooshed. But it was more of a pinkish auburn color...so basically, I'm stumped.
But, alas, I'm used to it by now.:)

"You Can Help Yourself..."

Can't say this isn't the motto in our house...but wow, pretty funny when it comes from your 4 yr old.

Benjamin and Wyatt are currently playing restaurant--well, Benjamin's working at a McDonald's (with the McD cash register in his lap) and Wyatt's working at the local grocery store (Jonathan's new grocery register in his lap).
Both boys are sitting next to eachother on the couch, which makes me wonder who's going to actually get the food prepared...or bought. But I play along anyway...

Walking up, on my knees, to Benjamin I say: "I'd like 3 cheeseburgers, two chicken nuggets, 4 fries and 3 drinks." I'm pretty hungry, after all.
Plugging the info into his register, he repeats my order like a pro...wonder if he's heard this done before somewhere.

"Anything else!?" he asks.
"Nope, that'll be it, sir!" I say.
Transaction of money and niceties follows...including a friendly "Have a nice day" from Benjamin.

I sit, expectantly, waiting.

"Mommy, that's it...next person is waiting!"

"But what about my food, Bud? Where's my food??" I say.

Wyatt looks at Benjamin, then me, then back at Benjamin...

Benjamin shoots his arm up, waves his hand in a circular motion, gesturing toward the play kitchen area.
"You can just help yourself...kitchen's open!"

Can't say I don't love the hospitality of said kitchen...but I think we need to sharpen our "playing restaurant" skills.
Clare and Addie would be good right about now...they are PROS.

Proof their ears DO work

Moments ago I overheard the following:

"C'mon, Jonny...you don't need to freak out about it--just listen!"

And in recent days, these lovely gems:

"Benjamin, I'm NOT going to want to be your friend if you act like that!"

"Mommy, I'm just really feeling frustrated with this." (Jonny, cleaning up a mess)

"Jonathan, you are SERIOUSLY out of control."


And then there are the times they use my words, yet not quite in context:

"This is so yummy it just kills me..." (Benjamin, giggly with his Krispy Treat)

"I very want to go, Mommy, I can't even tell you." (Jonathan, begging to go to pool)

"You don't know if you like it, Jonny, because it might have wheat in it." (Benjamin, attempting to keep Jonathan away from his finger paints)



And finally, my personal favorite--the blending of two separate Mommy-isms:

"I'm so totally serious about how fun it's going to be, Mommy...you'll just have to be kidding me." (Benjamin, on our way to Koetsier's for J's bday party)

Happy Birthday, Jonathan Christopher

Oh, my sweet, sweet boy...I cannot believe you are 3. And yet, in many ways...holy cow, I can't believe it's only been three years since you came into our lives.
Each day with you--as has been well-documented--is an adventure. From the very start, jusy by being you...you changed things. Made us more of a complete family...gave Benjamin a brother and me--your mommy--a whole new experience with raising a boy. I cannot begin to describe the ways in which I'm grateful for what you've brought to our lives...and to me.
But most of all, I'm grateful just to know you. To be able to witness all the changing you do on a daily--and often moment to moment--basis.
You are, without a doubt, fearless. Determined, full of energy, a bit accident-prone (cough, cough), fast, unbelievably curious, and truly unpredictable...you are a force to be reckoned with, dear Jonny. And yet it's what I love about you. I love how much you keep me on my toes...I love how even when I roll my eyes at the latest "stunt" you've pulled, catastrophe you've caused, or sheer fool you've made of me(as I've run down the street screaming after you)...I love that in those same moments I'm smiling on the inside, proud of the spitfire you are. Proud of your spunk, your will, and your true tenaciousness.

But most of all, I am in awe of your spirit.
Each day I spend with you I marvel at your positivity...how "up" you are for anything that comes your way, and how quick you are to recover from set-backs. I am endlessly proud of the compassion you've learned, the sensitivity you feel and, of course, your undeniable sense of humor.
I love that even when your brother is teasing you mercilessly, taking your toys, or simply bossing you around...that you refuse to stay beaten down and insist on hugging it out with him and kissing his cheek. Even when he's still miles away from forgiving himself.

Your sense of strength is, and was from day one, obvious to me...and I am beyond grateful for that. But what I am most grateful for is the love you have for yourself and others...and how freely you let it shine.

You have magic eyes, and I've told you this many times. From the first time I laid my own eyes on them...they danced. And they continue to give away exactly who you are...to anyone who takes even a moment to notice. Your heart is always on the surface, and I imagine it always will be...right there--open and giving and honest.

You are a treasure, Jonny...and I love you with all my heart.

To the moon and back, Bubbas.:)
Always.