Where's Bill?

In the fall of 2006, Janet was in Second grade, Riley was in Kindergarten and Lucas was 3. The school that Janet and Riley attended offered sports programs and of course, Janet participated in Cross-Country Running (anything that Daddy does...). The younger kids in the school, from 4th grade down to 1st grade would run in a "Fun Run" and the older kids, grades 5-8 would run for actual times. It was the end of the season and I decided to take the 3 kids and my 7- month pregnant self out to dinner after the meet as a little treat for the kids (and a BIG treat for Mama). Janet wanted to go to the Longhorn Steakhouse (A.K.A. The Big Red Cow) because they have the "best salads and bread and a lot of cool dead animals hanging on the walls". The meal goes off without a hitch; actually it was probably the MOST perfect dining out experience that I have ever had with the kids! Anyway, after about 45 minutes or so, we are ready to go and Janet and Riley need to use the restroom. (I know what you are thinking "ANOTHER bathroom story?" No. Not this time. As Lucas and I are waiting for the girls to return to the table, he begins to get a little antsy and wants to leave NOW. I try to explain to him that we cannot leave until the girls get back and that I have to pay for dinner. Here's how that conversation went:

Luke: "Come on Mama, I want to go home".

Me: "Luke, we have to wait for the girls to get done in the bathroom, I will pay the bill and then we can go".

Luke: (standing on the seat of the booth looking around the restaurant) "I wish those gulls would huwwy up. I want to go home".

Me: "Sit down Luca. Here they are. Now I just have to pay the bill and we can go".

Luke: "I wish he would huwwy up."

Me: "Who? Sit down. You are going to fall. What are you doing?"

Luke: "Where is he?"

Me: "Who?"

Luke: "Bill"

Me: "Bill? Who's Bill?"

Luke: "You know. BILL. The guy. Bill?"

Me: " What? What are you talking about? SIT DOWN!"

Luke: "Oh. There he is."

Now I am getting a little scared. I don't know who this Bill character is, but apparently Lucas seems to and he keeps "seeing" him.

Me: "There who is?"

Luke: " Bill. You know, 'Pay the Bill'? He's right there with the check".

Ah. Of course. The waiter. You see, whenever it is time to leave a restaurant, I usually say, "I have to pay the check". This time, however, I said I needed to "pay the bill". Luke apparently thought in his infinite wisdom of 3 years that the waiter's name must have been ... Pay The Bill. Out of the mouths of babes, right?

One. Two. Bath Time

My son, Aaron is almost 3 and is slightly advanced for his age; he could dribble a basketball one-handed when he was 2 and by the time he was 2-1/2, he could dribble with both hands--two basketballs at once. He has been able to spell his name and write some letters since before he turned 2 and has a pretty expansive vocabulary, when he decides to use it (it is easier for him to point and have everyone else get stuff for him). He has also been able to identify colors, letters, recite the ABC's and count to 20, all before turning 2. (BRAG! BRAG!BRAG! BRAG!) Back in February of this year, while the other kids were at school, I had the brilliant idea to put Aaron in the tub and clean the bathroom while he was getting clean. He enjoys playing in the tub, as most kids do and I figured I could REALLY clean the bathroom, it was a plan of pure genius! After about a half an hour or so, I decided to give him some "new" warmer water and keep him in longer so that I could tackle the linen closet. You know, the dreaded place in the bathroom that holds the towels (shampoo, razors, hair products, diapers, wipes, make up, just about any kind of crap associated with a bathroom).

I get the tub temp nice and toasty for my little genius, complete with bubbles and lots of toys and begin pulling the closet apart. Let me explain something here, when we built this addition on our house several years (and several children) ago, the bathroom was not designed to have a linen closet in it, but thanks to my fabulous brother-in-law, Big Daddy, I managed to get the plans changed and the closet was built in the bathroom. This closet is big--I can get into it with the kids, close the door and have a tea party. ( I do not do things small scale) Where was I? Ah ,yes. The baby is in the tub, I decide to pull EVERYTHING out of the closet to really get it clean; towels, drawers, cosmetic cart, etc.. Aaron says to me, "Out Mama. I want out." The bathroom is a mess, I am not even close to retuning it to normal so I tell him, " Boo Boo, you just stay in a little longer, you like to take a bath." The following conversation ensues between a 41 year-old and a 2 year-old:



AA--"No Mama, I want out. I pick you up."



ME--"Boo Boo, Mama is almost done. Then I will get you out and I will pick you up."



AA--"I poop Mama."



ME--"What? You have to poop? Like on the potty? Do you want to go on the potty?" (I'm thinking: "my 2 year-old is so smart that he is going to potty train himself")



AA--"I POOP MAMA! OUT! OUT! I HOLD YOU! I POOP!"



At this point, he is standing in the tub, screaming to get out so being the ever attentive parent, I get out from the pile of crap that I have created to try and convince him to stay in the tub just a little longer...



ME--"AA what is wrong? Don't you want to play with Spiderman? Look at all the bubbles! You love to take a bath."



AA--"I poop. I----POOP!!!!!!! See? One, two POOPS. Two poops Mama. Two Poops."



I look at the heavily bubbled water and sure enough, like the Queen Elizabeth sailing through the fogged drenched ocean, I see it. Them. The two poops. And they are traveling full steam ahead toward my precious little boy...I pull him frantically out of the tub, drain it, scoop it (in the circus even the ring master has to clean up after the animals) and BLEACH EVERY-THING in sight! I am not, by any means a neat freak, but when there is fecal matter involved, I'm calling Clorox and we are having a party! After all was said and done and I called my sisters to relate the story (well anyone that answered their phone, or called me, heard the story) I managed to get the closet put back together and go on with the day--pick up the kids from school, homework, dinner, baths, bed--you know the drill. I hadn't really thought about the incident again until a couple of days later when it was time to get Aaron bathed again. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO BAF MAMA!!!!! TWO POOPS! TWO POOPS!" The boy would not go near the tub, let alone go IN the tub. What is a Mama to do? I take him down to the kitchen and give him a "shower" in the sink. It took a couple of months, but he no longer afraid of the poops in the tub. I wish I could say the same about Lucas, but that is another story for another time...

Hooked on Phonics

In 2002, Steve and I attended my cousin's wedding in the Outer Banks in North Carolina and fell in LOVE with the area. We decided that we would vacation there as a family every Summer (or for as long as we could). So, the next Summer, we recruited my sisters and their families and my Dad, rented a big house in Corolla and had a great time; so began a new family tradition. Cut to the Summer of 2006--Lucas is 3, Riley is 5, Janet is 8 and Aaron is one sonogram away from being, well, Aaron.
Here is the part where I am going to brag about how intelligent my children are: of course, every Mother throughout history has boasted about how smart her son/daughter is and I am no exception to this. My children ARE smart and they get it from me...my husband will even tell you that this is a fact; because I told him that it IS INDEED A FACT "THAT OUR KIDS ARE SMART, JUST LIKE THEIR MOTHER". Riley, at the tender age of 5, was all about learning how to read to be just like her big sister (who could identify words at age 4) and of course, being the person that I am, I would encourage her; point to a sign, tell her what it says, she repeats it, retains it and voila! Smarty, McSmart-Smart! I really do not agree with the teachers who have told me that the only reason that my kids can read street signs and fast food restaurant signs and know the name of every Mall from here to Charlotte, is because we are always driving the same route and eating and frequenting those places--I think that is just a coincidence--repetition as a learning tool? PLEASE!
At this point, we have been back home for about two weeks and we are having a nice family drive along Route 20 in Ashtabula, Ohio. If any of you have ever been to the Outer Banks, you should be familiar with Dirty Dicks Crab Shack (for those of you who are not, it is a restaurant chain); Anyway, we are stopped at a red light in front of MacDonald's (Lucas, the 3 year-old, points out the window and says "MacDonald's"--Einstein!!!!!!) and I spot a bumper sticker on the truck in front of us and read, "I got my crabs at Dirty Dick's Crab Shack--OBX" and Riley says, "Crab. Crab starts with C". "Very good, honey.", I say. Then she says: "Wa-Wa-Wa-Wobstur. Wobstur begins with a W." And before I could correct her, my precious, delicate oldest child says: "LALALALALALALA LOBSTER! RILEY! IT'S LOB-STER AND IT BEGINS WITH AN L!" I was speechless...because I was laughing so hard. Needless to say, when Riley entered kindergarten that fall, she started speech class and now speaks with almost perfect diction...Ah, memories!

The first day

Here I go...I decided to write a blog to let the world in on my CRAZY life. Here is a little info about me and how I got to this point in my life--blogging. I am married to a physical therapist who is also a triathlete, well, he does just about everything that has to do with exercise; hence he is very good at the job he does. We have 4 children: Janet, 11; Riley, 8; Lucas, 6; and Aaron, 2 and 11/12 (his birthday is in December) and they are very good at the jobs that they do--being kids. I work part-time for Steve (the husband) and full-time for the circus. When I am not working or wrangling the wild animals, I watch TV, read, shop and eat. Oh and now I write...which is a life long dream of mine. I am going to tell you stories that will make you laugh and cry and sometimes you will cry while laughing or laugh while crying. I will try to keep them short and to the point, but for anyone who knows me, that is an almost impossible feat. I will not tell jokes, as it has been pointed out to me in the past, I simply cannot tell them (I get a little confused with the whole punchline thing). Also, I encourage anyone who has a funny story about an encounter with my kids to share it--the encounter must include the kids as this is ode to them. They are the center of my universe, the apple of my eye, the high-flying stars on the flying trapeze that is my life! Welcome to the greatest show on earth !(at least in my world)