Cindy the guinea pig and I don't stand a chance

Last night our entire family was hanging out in the super six year old's room, getting ready for bed. The tiny toddler was all bundled up in his fuzzy footie pajamas and sitting on my lap. I was attempting to read a book to him that his daycare teacher had allowed him to bring home. Actually, I'm not so sure he wanted to bring it home. I am thinking that maybe his teacher wanted  him to bring it home because it is all about learning patience and appropriate ways to gain attention. It's a great book and I wanted my tiny toddler to really listen and take to heart the theme. He, on the other hand, however, wanted to giggle at the pictures in the book and blow raspberries at my face. Spitting on Mommy is one of his favorite past times.

While I was dodging spit from the tiny toddler the super six year old was engaged in a rousing game of catch with Daddy. While I was trying to calm down the tiny toddler and wind down his more than difficult day Daddy was sitting on the bed tossing a football across the room at my oldest son. Who, to his credit, was catching it most of the time. At one point, though, Daddy lobbed the football a little too high and we all watched in horror as it flew through the air, bounced off the fish bowl, and landed on the dresser. Every single human in the room gave their usual response: the tiny toddler clapped and cheered, and then started giggling so hard that he had to cover his mouth. The super six year old looked as though he was about to burst into tears, thinking he was going to get in trouble. My sweet husband looked surprised and then started laughing as well. And me? I wanted to throw everyone out of the room. I wanted to say, "I told you not to throw that football in this room!" Instead I said, "OK, put the football away, NOW!" And then it hit me. A thought, not the football.

My husband. Two sons. The cat. The fish. ALL MALE. Cindy the guinea pig and I are the only females in this household. We don't stand a chance.

The toilet seat will always be up.

Pull Ups or underwear will always be on the floor.

Table manners will include burping and tossing rolls.

Wet towels will always be on the bed or bathroom floor.

Footballs, bouncy balls, plastic balls, soccer balls, every type of ball ever invented, will frequently be flying through the air inside my home.

I will sit through a million football games, whether from the sofa while watching the game on TV, in real life from a professional team's stadium, or on the sidelines of a youth league. Actually, I am OK with this, as I like football. But still, it's a fact. And let's face it, many of those games will not be played during blue sky, sunny, warm days.

Everything will move at the speed of light. My boys are incapable of walking. They must run everywhere or they will die.

On top of moving fast, it will be loud. As in rock concert loud.

Pirates, rock collections, dogs, mud.

And I love it, I really do. Of course I do. These are my boys, all three of them. I love what they love. I am at peace when they are happy. But in the middle of the yelling and running and cleaning mud off of everything I need to be sure that while allowing them to be the boys they are we don't lose sight of teaching them what they need to become the men we want them to be. Men who believe in God. Men who lead their hearts instead of allowing their hearts to lead them. Men who hold doors open and say "please" and "thank you". Men who know the importance of spending time with family and who want to be a part of a "tribe", whether that means family or friends. Men who won't drive their significant others crazy. And prior to that, men who won't drive me crazy as we grow through this process.

As my boys grow up it will be easier for me to find the time to sneak away for "girl time". I am already able to let them play in the child watch while I work out, which is a start. My husband watches chick flicks because he knows I like them, which is awesome. But I am quickly learning that I am not able to function when life gets too loud or too crazy. It is at these moments that I need to step back, take a deep breath, and learn to enjoy the footballs flying through the air. Raising boys takes me out of my comfort zone sometimes. But other times, I can fit right in. This morning I chose to wing my husband's vitamins at him from across the kitchen table. Sadly, my aim is not as good as my boys' and I managed to toss the fruit shaped gummy vitamins right into his glass of water. Cheers erupted all around the table. Oh yeah, I can keep up!

I needed to decompress after a morning at Walmart - and now I'm ready to make my holiday gifts!

I spent the morning at Walmart. And those of you who know me well know how much I dislike Walmart. But the car needed an oil change and my errands list included a birthday present for a baby, so it was just easier to go to the dreaded super giant and knock it all out at once. Besides, who doesn't love killing an hour and  half in a Walmart with a two year old?

Now that two year old is up in his crib, rolling around, making noises like he is going to start calling for me any minute. But I had to take a few minutes and decompress from the morning spent at Walmart. So I sat down at the laptop and planned out the home made gifts I'll be making for Christmas. I planned out the Halloween suckers I'll be making for my big four and a half year old's class party. I even scoped out a cool treat to make for Thanksgiving. I am ready for the season, right down to the card my boys will be making for their day care teachers this Christmas.

Even though I am currently not working outside the home I have this feeling that life is going to be crazier than usual this season. My big four and a half year old has tee ball, china school, and football. I might want him to sing in the church Christmas play. We have our china play group. I have our Families With Children From China  board meetings and my secretarial duties. I am thinking about trying to start a central Ohio chapter of Families for Russian and Ukraine Adoption. Oh, and I might have a job starting soon. So I'm thinking we are about to just explode with busy. Which is why I am planning the same home made gift for many of the people on my holiday gift list. A simple, easy to make, wholesome sugar scrub. The coffee scrub is my favorite - I'll be sure to make a little extra for me. And the memory jar that my oldest son will be making for his grandparents is just too sweet.

So I have made all my plans and I am ready to go. Wanna see more? Click on the red PINTEREST button to the right of this post and check out  my planning boards!

Are you well on your way to your holiday planning?

taking time for tea, part II

Every parent wants to pass cherished family traditions down to their children. I am no different. When they are much, much older and settle in to a permanent loving relationship I want them to place a new "family" tree topper on the top of their Christmas tree, just as their father and I did our first Christmas together. We are still using that angel and every time I see her glowing up there on top of the tree I remember my husband telling me that we needed a new tree topper, one that held only memories of "us".

I love the fact that my four year old goes to the Cleveland Browns games with his dad and that we all go to the Indians games. We watch the games on television and both my husband and son have their favorite players they watch. Being football fans is a tradition we will share for years.

We have holiday traditions such as our elf , Fritz, who visits us every Christmas season. We celebrate Chinese New Year and Autumn Moon Festival. We have many family traditions, big and small. And one of my favorites is our tradition of taking time for iced tea. It may seem insignificant but it is huge in my book.

When I first started to date Brad we found ourselves doing all those date night things every couple does. We took in movies, plays, and even a monster truck show. We went to concerts and out to dinner. We window shopped on  Main Street, USA. And we took our time. We got to know each other over glasses of iced tea.

This "taking the time for tea" tradition did not stop when we got married. It did not stop when we added the kids to our happy union. And this tradition is already being passed on to our children.

Last Saturday Matthew, my four year old, and I hit up the weekly farmer's market in our town. This is also a tradition that just Matthew and I share, started a few years back when he was still a little one in a stroller. Now that he is older he still looks forward to this weekly visit. We walk up and down the streets, taking in the colorful fruits and veggies at each stand. We discuss our planned purchases and what we should bring home to Daddy and then we make our selections. Matthew helps me select the very best looking corn or strawberries, he talks to the farmer's, hands over the money, checks out the tractors and wagons. Sometimes he even carries the bag, until it gets too heavy and he hands it back to me. Sometimes we see people we know from church or daycare, and he is always so happy to stop and chat with a friend of mommy's. I love these weekly excursions and miss them when our schedule can't accommodate them. This past week we had to run an errand after visiting the market and so in between we stopped for iced tea.

We sat side by side in the booth, both of us drinking iced tea, cooling off from the very sunny, very hot walk through the farmer's market. We talked about our fruit and veggie purchases and all of the sights at the market. We talked about how pre-school is going and about Mommy's new job. We talked about how things were going with Alex's transition into our family and about Matthew's plans to see a Cleveland Indian's game with Daddy the next day. We talked about the dog we plan to get next Spring. We talked about his friends and his China play group. We talked about his birthday. (This is a favorite topic of my son's. Even though his birthday is seven months away and there are numerous holidays to celebrate before his birthday he still wants to discuss his birthday party, in detail, every chance he gets.) We talked. And drank our iced tea.

I want my sons to understand the importance of being still. I want them to be able to slow down, to stop running from one activity to another and just "be" with someone. I want them to enjoy the little moments in between the big moments. I want them to always be able to stop and take the time for tea.

Prior to traveling to Russia to bring our youngest son into our family I was given a very special book as a gift. "The Three Questions", based on a story by Leo Tolstoy, is a beautiful story about the importance of living in the moment. The basic theme of the book is that the most important moment is the one you are in right now, the most important person is the one you are with, right now, and the most important thing you could do is whatever you can do for the person you are with, right now. This is easier said than done. There is no room in this "taking time for tea" moments for taking cell calls or checking email. There is just time for "being".

Hopefully when my kids are older they will continue to tell me what's on their mind. Hopefully they will always have the time to take for tea with Mom. Hopefully they will have learned, at the bent elbow of their iced tea drinking parents, the importance of celebrating those little moments, every day.

occasionally someone is crying. and it's not always me.

I have noticed a change in my parenting style this second time around. Oh, who am I kidding. What I have really noticed is how much calmer I am with this new little guy. Maybe it's because we spent so much time with him in the orphanage. With such a huge glimpse into his daily life I knew exactly what he had been exposed to and what would be brand new to him. Having received my oldest son in a sterile government office in Guangzhou, China, I had only a small idea of what his days in the orphanage were like. When we came home I watched his every move. My fear of the fact that my son had never seen a flushing toilet, stairs, a stove - I was terrified that something horrible would happen. He had a tent on his crib. (which he loved, by the way, and which we still use with our youngest.) The stairs were gated at the top and the bottom. That baby didn't make a move that my watchful eye missed. The first time he rode the RTA with Daddy and attended his first football game I was a nervous wreck. And when he got hit with that softball during his first tee-ball practice, resulting in a bloody nose, I was mortified. My baby!

The joyful arrival of our second child brought back the crib tent. It brought back the gate at the top of the stairs, which, frankly, I'm pretty sure the little guy can already open. The bottom of the stairs remain open, even though my frisky little twenty-six  month old chases the cat up the stairs at least a hundred times a day. But his arrival also brought something I didn't have the first time. Calm. Security. I knew to expect this, I suppose. It's not like I wasn't aware that second children are often allowed more freedom. I just didn't expect to be letting go of that nervousness quite so quickly.

A typical day for Alex includes the following, happening at least four times, in no particular order:

• climbing out of high chair. even with the harness latched.
• rolling down the bottom two steps. how he makes it all the way up and then almost all the way down, every time, is beyond me.
• getting knocked down by his older brother.
• nearly slipping under the water in the tub while attempting to pull his brother under with him.
• gently rolling off the sofa, accidentally. then climbing back up and falling off on purpose.
• walking into the corner of the kitchen table. one day I watched him walk into three of the four corners, one right after the other, as he rounded the table to head outside.
• getting knocked down by his older brother.
• falling off the coffee table. don't even ask.
• running at top speed into the stove, dishwasher, walls.... he is mimicking his older brother, who thinks it funny to run into a wall and then fall down. he is just pretending. Alex, however, is too young to understand this type of humor and so he is literally running into the oven and falling over. repeatedly.
• oh, and getting knocked down by his older brother.

And I don't even bat an eye. I pick him up, check for broken bones, give him a kiss and set him upright and on his way. I don't blink when I watch him climb down the garage stairs and then stick his thumb in his mouth. I simply wash it off and move on. I watch as he climbs the stairs chasing the cat, knowing all the doors are closed and he can't get anywhere but the hallway. But I don't rush to get him. I let this little guy explore. I let him fall. I let him play rough with his brother. I let him be the boy he is. And in the process, my older son gets to be the boy he is too.

I know that one day my toddler will be riding scooters. I will be pulling candy wrappers, matchbox cars, leaves and dirty rocks from his pockets when doing laundry. And when that day comes I know my older boy will have moved on to big boy bikes and climbing trees. Eventually they will be riding roller coasters, having crushes on girls, driving. (gasp). There will be dirt in my house and on them. There will be loud toys and video games. There will be monster truck shows, demolition derby's, trips to the race track. There will be football and baseball and soccer. (and because they are my boys there will also be music lessons and trips to the library.) My life will be messy, and I won't always be able to control the chaos. So I am glad I have learned this lesson early. My life with these two boys is loud. It's messy. It's often sticky. Someone is usually tackling someone else, and occasionally someone is crying. And it's not always me.

I am the mother of boys, something I never dreamed I would be. And I am just calm enough to tackle each day right along with them.

christmas junk- a tale of nature versus nurture

The nature versus nurture debate occurs often in our home. We look at our son across the room, humming to himself as he plays with his train and we wonder - was he born with that fondness for trains or did we stoke that love? Both my husband and I had train sets when we were young and we both still enjoy all things railroad.

I am a somewhat impatient person. I talk to the cars in front of me, gently reminding them that the light has TURNED GREEN. I cannot sit through slow movies or read slow books, and I will lose interest if the web page is too slow to load. I am fairly confident that I have passed this impatience on to my son.

When I was a kid I was always singing. I hummed to myself while playing with my dolls and now I listen to my son do the same thing. He hums while he eats, he sings while he plays with his monster trucks... He loves to play musical instruments and easily learns musical terms- he uses "adagio" for "slow", as in, "You are pushing the grocery cart too adagio, Mommy, go presto!" Did I give him his love of music by sharing my love with him?

My husband loves sports. Especially Cleveland sports. He watches basketball, baseball, football. He watches the shows that prepare us for the game we are about to watch, and then he watches the shows that dissect the game we just viewed. Sometimes he watches games that were played 20 years ago. He plays sports video games. And Matthew? My little three year old can name all the teams in the NFL simply by looking at their logo. He has a favorite player- Joshua Cribbs and he loves to play Madden on the Wii. By the age of two he knew who Lebron was, and now he knows that "we don't like Lebron, mommy". He loves to play football, running around the backyard with his ball trying to tackle mommy and daddy. He even gets in trouble at day care every so often for tackling his buddies. OK, more that every so often, but he is getting better. His love of sports? Passed on to him by daddy.

This year Matthew is super excited about Christmas. He loves watching the holiday decorations going up around town. "Look, mommy, even the grocery store is getting ready for Christmas!" As we were walking to the car last night after running an errand we could see a few houses with tasteful holiday lights glowing. "Look, mommy! Those houses are ready for Christmas!" We then got in the car and headed down the street, right past a house completely covered in lights. Blazing lights of every color, shining down on a front yard full of holiday joy. Every inch of this front yard held a dazzling holiday decoration- reindeer bobbing their heads up and down, inflatable snow globes with Santa trapped inside, giant basketball player sized candy canes. My little guy piped up from the back seat, "Look, mommy! Look at all that Christmas junk!" Christmas junk? Now who did he inherit that from? Out of the mouths of babes...

christmas junk?

football, fish, and fun

The Wilkison's had a great weekend! We took Matthew apple picking, something he has looked forward to since we went last year. Last year before we visited the orchard Matthew rarely ate apples, except for applesauce. He simply would not try a fresh one. He did, however, enjoy practicing picking the apples off the tree- even as a two year old he had a great imagination. Last year he grabbed an apple and sat right now on the grass to eat it. Ever since then he has been perfecting his love of all things apple. He has been bouncing around the house for weeks, unable to contain his enthusiasm for his upcoming apple picking trip. This year he was a tad more scientific about his fruit. He helped me put the bag in the large handled basket we brought and he carefully selected which grove of trees to head towards. He took his time choosing which apples would make it into his basket. And he found exactly the right one to eat right then.

We picked out the perfect pumpkin and headed to lunch. We went to City BBQ and did our normal routine - Matthew and Brad sat down and I went up to order. There was no line so I wasn't gone that long but by the time I found my way back to my boys the two of them had taken nearly every item out of the old diaper bag back pack that we  now use for sippy cups and extra underwear. The table was full of match box cars, monster trucks, wipes, sunscreen, and a very old and long forgotten bag of apple dippers from McDonald's. Yuck. They had also found a small tin of peanut butter cups that Brad's mother gave him last time we were in Cleveland and so were already eating dessert. sigh...

After lunch we walked around Easton and hit up the book store. We were looking for a foreign language book but instead came away with two books for Matthew. Typical, right? The good news is that the long walk around the outdoor mall helped push me towards my goal of 8,000 steps. What an awesome excuse to head to Easton!

Saturday night brad built a cozy fire in the backyard fire pit and the three of us played football. Our little guy is quickly becoming a fast runner! At one point in the game Brad threw the ball to me while Matthew was heading towards me at top speed, head down, ready to take me out. I threw the ball back to Brad to avoid being knocked down by my three year old. Imagine my surprise when on Sunday I saw the Cleveland Browns execute nearly the exact same play!

Sadly, when Brad left the backyard to take Matthew up to bed I somehow managed to kill his beautiful fire. Little did I know how he would retaliate...

Yesterday we visited Mom, who didn't seem to remember that earlier in the week she hung up on me in her anger over my cancelling her dentist appointment to "fit my schedule". I didn't cancel any appointments. I tried to explain to her that I did not know why she had the appointment on her calendar, but she slammed the phone down before I got the chance. Yesterday she was in a great mood, happily listening to her grandson share his apple picking story. She then asked why we hadn't brought her any apples. I have not one memory of that woman eating an apple. the whole process of Alzheimer's Disease is amazing to me. My mother used to hate coffee, most fruits, especially berries, and Chinese food. In the past year I have seen her eat all of those things. When I asked her about these changes in her tastes she insists that she has always eaten them. Kind of makes me think I am the one with the memory issues...

Despite spending hours making a Thanksgiving-like meal and watching an amazing football game, the highlight of Sunday came when Brad accidentally poured Matthew's fish, Stuart, down the drain. My boys headed up to the bathtub while I cleaned up the kitchen. Here is what I hear: laughter and water splashing, then Brad's slightly panicked voice asking me if I can come upstairs, right now. By the time I hit the top of the stairs he is asking for tweezers. I am picturing a huge splinter in Matthew's hand or something even worse, when Brad tells me that Stuart is in the drain. Oh. My. God.

By the time I find the tweezers and race to the bathroom Matthew is out of the tub, covered in soapy bubbles, trying to climb up to the sink to see what Daddy is doing with his fish. Long story short- Daddy worked on that sink for quite some time but in the end we found ourselves explaining that Stuart was most likely heading towards the ocean. Like Nemo. Of course, Matthew was appropriately saddened at the loss of his fishy friend, until he decided that he will name his next fish "Peeps". And no, I do not know why.

When I think about my weekend the pictures that jump into my head are my smiling little guy jumping up and down picking apples and running back to drop them, one by one, in the basket. I see the table at lunch covered with the entire contents of the backpack. I see the look on my son's face as he races towards me with determination in his eyes during our backyard football game. I see the look on my husband's face when he walks back onto the patio and sees that his once blazing fire has cooled to softly glowing embers. And I will always remember my husband and I sitting on the sofa after tucking Matthew into bed, trying not to laugh at the thought of poor little Stuart slipping down the drain. They say these are the moments we will always remember!

band competitions and apple pies

Horses have really big eyes. I know this because I just had a totally freaky horse/car encounter. I was sitting in the Equinator at a red light, behind a horse trailer, when suddenly the door opens and this very large horse starts out. The trailer was very low to the ground, so I think he could have made it down to the road if he hadn't been pulled back by the rope tethering him to something inside the trailer. A brave man in the car next to me hopped out of his vehicle and pushed the horse back in, slamming the door before running back to his car. All before the light turned green. I am not sure if the driver of the horse trailer even knew what was going on. The whole episode took maybe all of 30 seconds. And the whole time that horse just stared at me. With these huge, brown, watery eyes. And he did not look happy.

I think that horse just wanted to get back outside. What a beautiful day! The sun is shining, the breeze is soft, and the temperature is just perfect. I love this time of year, and, obviously, so does my new horse friend. This is, hands down, my absolute favorite season.

The crisp air reminds me of band competitions and football games. I remember not caring about the game and totally not understanding the action on the field, until my friend Mark took it upon himself one season to assure that I understood the game. Sadly, I held on to very little of his teaching and so my husband had to practically start from square one when he first began to share his love of the game with me. I remember being a part of the high school marching band and waiting in the end zone for half time. Occasionally we had to scatter as the ball soared our way. And the "circle" before the band competitions. I cannot remember what we called them but I do remember that they had a name. It was a long standing tradition at my high school to gather in a circle before taking the field. Friends, coming together to remind each other that we were a team and we were all in this together. My little family has our own version of the "circle" now- my son calls them "family hugs". We hug hard and we hug often, reminding ourselves that we are all in this life together.

Sometimes this time of year I can hear drums from the marching band of the near by high school. When I do, I am instantly transported to the competition field. Sometimes I am transported to the college field, where I played horn just because there weren't any horn players. Having a section of two, neither of whom actually played the instrument, was a lot of fun. That was the year I learned a lot about clouds and flying and sports from my fellow horn player.

When I was a little girl I used to accompany my father to the band competitions that he judged. I would hang out in the press box and listen to the buzz of all the judges talking into their little tape recorders. Sometimes I would be pressed into service as a "runner", running the large envelopes of scores up and down the stands from the press box to the tabulators below. I loved sitting on that stool high in the press box, watching the older kids marching down below, amazed by the beautiful colors of the flags and the wall of sound when the entire band faced the box. To this day I still love a good company front!

Now a days Fall means pumpkin patches and apple picking with my son. It means baking apple pies and trick or treating. It means taking in a high school football game, a band competition, and a handful of Brown's games. While I fondly remember hanging out with my dad at those high school band shows my son will remember cheering with his dad at the Brown's games. He will remember baking apple pies with his mom. When I walk outside and inhale the crisp Autumn air I wonder which season my son will choose as his favorite?