The boys have gotten so dirty during our week camping, that showers have become part of our evening ritual. Cran-Hill has two family bathrooms, which means there is a private shower, toilet, and sink in a bathroom. And a bench for me to sit on while Sam and Nolan play in the shower. I couldn't live without that bench. The ventilation in the family bathrooms is pretty bad and it gets so hot in there I can hardly stay upright.
(TJ, by the way, has informed me that he is too old to shower with his brothers, so he has been showering on his own every night. My baby is growing up. Sniff, sniff)
So tonight, Bill is in the bathroom helping me. He's toweling off Nolan and I am drying Sam. Out of the blue, Sam says, "Mom, when you are 65, I will be 35."
I stopped toweling him and just stared at him. I asked him how he knew that. He said, "Oh, I just thought it up right now." I looked over at Bill, and I could tell he was double-checking the math in his head. But Sam was exactly right.
I told Sam that he was so smart it scared me. He was very confused by that statement. I laughed and told him he could keep on being smart, even if I was scared.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Friday, July 13, 2012
Sounding it out
Last Sunday, TJ was amusing himself by filling out the communication card in the bulletin. He was filling it out as though he was the adult. He decided to use his given name, rather than his nickname. But his name isn't exactly easy. He carefully wrote 'T-h-e-o' and then paused to think the rest over. He glanced at me, gave me a proud smile and finished with 'D-O-O-R'. I couldn't help it. I started snickering. Theodoor? He looked miffed and said, "What? That's how you spell 'door'!" I have had a difficult time explaining to him since then that names aren't always spelled the way they sound. And besides, he isn't a type of door.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Parental Control
I recall that when I was a 'tween' and in my early teens, the big controversy on television was MTV. Several of my friends' parents blocked that channel so it wasn't available to my friends or their older siblings. We didn't have cable until I was in high school, so i was fairly oblivious to the controversy.
These days, MTV seems almost tame. Everyone knows they primarily show reality TV. You're pretty hard-pressed to actually find a music video on that channel. What's the big controversy in the Baron Household? Cartoon Network. Yes, that's right. Cartoon Network. It sounds like such a kid-friendly channel. You wouldn't think there would be anything inappropriate on Cartoon Network, or if there was, that it would be on later at night. Well, you'd be wrong if you assumed that. There are a few shows we don't mind--Lego Ninjago is fine, and I'm fine with the 'classics', like Loony Toons. But TJ has stumbled across more than one show where the language is questionable, the plop lines make me uncomfortable, and there are multiple sexual innuendos. Yes, on cartoons. And we aren't talking about Beevis and Butthead, here. These cartoons seemed to be geared toward elementary-aged children!
Bill and I have repeatedly asked TJ NOT to turn those shows on. But TJ just couldn't control himself. And Sam and Nolan had seen a few of those episodes too. So we finally blocked the channel tonight. We are still DVRing Ninjago for TJ, but it's under the block. So, we have to enter in a passcode each and every time he wants to watch an episode. It will be a huge pain in the butt. But it will be worth it. If we don't start putting our foot down now,, it's just going to get worse.
These days, MTV seems almost tame. Everyone knows they primarily show reality TV. You're pretty hard-pressed to actually find a music video on that channel. What's the big controversy in the Baron Household? Cartoon Network. Yes, that's right. Cartoon Network. It sounds like such a kid-friendly channel. You wouldn't think there would be anything inappropriate on Cartoon Network, or if there was, that it would be on later at night. Well, you'd be wrong if you assumed that. There are a few shows we don't mind--Lego Ninjago is fine, and I'm fine with the 'classics', like Loony Toons. But TJ has stumbled across more than one show where the language is questionable, the plop lines make me uncomfortable, and there are multiple sexual innuendos. Yes, on cartoons. And we aren't talking about Beevis and Butthead, here. These cartoons seemed to be geared toward elementary-aged children!
Bill and I have repeatedly asked TJ NOT to turn those shows on. But TJ just couldn't control himself. And Sam and Nolan had seen a few of those episodes too. So we finally blocked the channel tonight. We are still DVRing Ninjago for TJ, but it's under the block. So, we have to enter in a passcode each and every time he wants to watch an episode. It will be a huge pain in the butt. But it will be worth it. If we don't start putting our foot down now,, it's just going to get worse.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Ugh. Mail.
Remember when you were a kid and it was so exciting to get mail? Well, it just isn't that way once you are an adult.
Case in point...today's mail:
1. Our Charter internet bill. We are locked in at a monthly rate of $39.99. So imagine my excitement when this month's bill is $74.99. Why is it higher? Well, Charter billed us for a service call. We had been having consistent trouble with our wifi. Bill replaced the router but the problems continued. He finally had Charter come out and take a look at it. Turns out it was THEIR problem. They were feeding way too strong a signal into the house. Since the problem was outside the house and was their responsibility, we were not supposed to have been billed for it. and yet, there it was. Bill grumbled quite a bit and said he'd be having a chat with Charter tomorrow.
2. We got our Explanation of Benefits for our trip to the chiropractor three weeks ago. We have an H.S.A. plan and we finally hit our deductible for the year. That means the appointment should have been covered in full for the entire family. But for some reason, all five of our appointments were processed as an out-of-network visit, meaning Blue Cross didn't pay a dime of it. Ugh! Now I have to track down someone at the chiropractor's office (and of course they are closed until next week) and ask them to resubmit the claim. Otherwise, I have a bill of nearly $200 hanging over my head.
3. This one was my personal favorite. I received a letter from the Spectrum Health Weight Loss Clinic letting me know that a certain doctor was no longer participating in bariatric surgery. I would need to see someone else in the practice.
Um. What? I have never in my life consulted a weight loss physician, especially regarding bariatric surgery. Is someone trying to tell me something?
Like I said, mail isn't any fun anymore.
Case in point...today's mail:
1. Our Charter internet bill. We are locked in at a monthly rate of $39.99. So imagine my excitement when this month's bill is $74.99. Why is it higher? Well, Charter billed us for a service call. We had been having consistent trouble with our wifi. Bill replaced the router but the problems continued. He finally had Charter come out and take a look at it. Turns out it was THEIR problem. They were feeding way too strong a signal into the house. Since the problem was outside the house and was their responsibility, we were not supposed to have been billed for it. and yet, there it was. Bill grumbled quite a bit and said he'd be having a chat with Charter tomorrow.
2. We got our Explanation of Benefits for our trip to the chiropractor three weeks ago. We have an H.S.A. plan and we finally hit our deductible for the year. That means the appointment should have been covered in full for the entire family. But for some reason, all five of our appointments were processed as an out-of-network visit, meaning Blue Cross didn't pay a dime of it. Ugh! Now I have to track down someone at the chiropractor's office (and of course they are closed until next week) and ask them to resubmit the claim. Otherwise, I have a bill of nearly $200 hanging over my head.
3. This one was my personal favorite. I received a letter from the Spectrum Health Weight Loss Clinic letting me know that a certain doctor was no longer participating in bariatric surgery. I would need to see someone else in the practice.
Um. What? I have never in my life consulted a weight loss physician, especially regarding bariatric surgery. Is someone trying to tell me something?
Like I said, mail isn't any fun anymore.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Really observant? Or really weird?
Over the weekend we went to Illinois to visit our relatives. Once again, we found ourselves using a variety of public bathrooms. And Sam said something that surprised me. As we walked into each bathroom, he would check right behind the seat and he would make a comment. "That's the same as ours." Later, he said, "That one is the same as Auntie Boo's." He was commenting on the brand of toilet! Are you kidding me?? What's even more strange (or maybe not--this is Sam we are talking about) is that I think he was right each time he made an observance.
I'm still trying to decide if I am in awe of him or completely baffled by him.
What brand is your toilet?
I'm still trying to decide if I am in awe of him or completely baffled by him.
What brand is your toilet?
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Vacation Reflections, Chapter 3: Mr. Nolan, Captain Obvious
It's so hard not to laugh when you are having a conversation with Nolan. He says and does some of the silliest (and sweetest) things. And he's not even trying to be charming!
On Day 1, as we were leaving McDonald's in Wisconsin, Nolan was beside himself, he was so tired. He was walking to the van and apparently, rather zoned out. I was about five feet ahead of him and I opened the van door for him. I turned just in time to see him walk smack into the side mirror of the car next to us. He hit it so hard that I actually checked to make sure he hadn't damaged the car. Understandably, he immediately burst into tears. I scooped him up and tried to comfort him while I checked for injuries (another day, another bruise in the life of Nolan). Nolan stopped sobbing long enough to say, "I wasn't looking where I was going!"
Yes. I noticed.
Later in the week, Nolan decided to start working on his math skills. He was talking to himself. "One plus one equals eleven" was his wise observance. I laughed. I corrected him, but I also thought that in a way, he was right. If you put two 1s next to each other, you do get eleven.
By the end of the week, Nolan was walking around the house saying "two plus two equals four, three plus three equals six". That's my smart boy!
Nolan is just like his Daddy and his brothers in that he likes some white noise while he is sleeping. All of the bedrooms had clock radios in them, so I located what I thought was a nice classical music station for him. They were playing some piano music that sounded kind of like a hymn. Nolan agreed that it was a good station, so I kissed him good night and left the room. An hour later, I checked on him and almost started laughing out loud. Nolan was sound asleep, sprawled out in the middle of his big bed. The soft piano music was no longer playing. In its place, was a religious person of some sort, yelling out a fire and brimstone sermon. And Nolan slept right through it.
On Friday night, the night before we came home, Bill and I were inside, packing things up. Sam and Nolan were outside with their squirt bottles and were playing quite nicely. I was upstairs emptying some dresser drawers when I heard Nolan crying and Bill speaking in a noticeably angry voice (yes, it does happen on rare occasion--he can get angry). Nolan continued crying and I thought Bill sounded particularly ticked off, so I went downstairs to see what was going on.
At this point, I need to backtrack. Let me remind you that we have 3 boys. And we were in a remote part of the state. More than once that week, the boys (usually Nolan) had a bathroom emergency when no bathrooms were in sight, so I would give them permission to use a bush.
Back to Friday night. Apparently, while playing outside with Sam, Nolan realized he needed to have a bowel movement. Rather than walk the ten feet to the front door, Nolan pulled down his pants and pooped. In the side yard of the house. Right in the landscaping. In broad daylight. Where people could see him.
Now I understood Bill's tone. He wasn't really mad, he was mortified! I had to get a plastic bag and have Sam show me where the item had been deposited. Trust me, it's far worse than cleaning up after a dog.
After I dealt with that, I went to talk to our wayward son and to put his pajamas on him. He was still recovering from his tears of shame. He wrapped his arms around me and said, "I had to say I was sorry four..no five times!" I laughed. But he knows now to never, never poop in the yard.
One last funny thing. The freezer in the rental house did not have an ice cube maker. It was no big deal, as there were four ice cube trays in there. But the boys have apparently never seen an ice cube tray before. All three of them were fascinated with them. Whenever I needed to get ice out, they'd all gather around to watch me crack the ice and pop the cubes out. They acted like it was such a strange invention. It made me feel really, really old.
On Day 1, as we were leaving McDonald's in Wisconsin, Nolan was beside himself, he was so tired. He was walking to the van and apparently, rather zoned out. I was about five feet ahead of him and I opened the van door for him. I turned just in time to see him walk smack into the side mirror of the car next to us. He hit it so hard that I actually checked to make sure he hadn't damaged the car. Understandably, he immediately burst into tears. I scooped him up and tried to comfort him while I checked for injuries (another day, another bruise in the life of Nolan). Nolan stopped sobbing long enough to say, "I wasn't looking where I was going!"
Yes. I noticed.
Later in the week, Nolan decided to start working on his math skills. He was talking to himself. "One plus one equals eleven" was his wise observance. I laughed. I corrected him, but I also thought that in a way, he was right. If you put two 1s next to each other, you do get eleven.
By the end of the week, Nolan was walking around the house saying "two plus two equals four, three plus three equals six". That's my smart boy!
Nolan is just like his Daddy and his brothers in that he likes some white noise while he is sleeping. All of the bedrooms had clock radios in them, so I located what I thought was a nice classical music station for him. They were playing some piano music that sounded kind of like a hymn. Nolan agreed that it was a good station, so I kissed him good night and left the room. An hour later, I checked on him and almost started laughing out loud. Nolan was sound asleep, sprawled out in the middle of his big bed. The soft piano music was no longer playing. In its place, was a religious person of some sort, yelling out a fire and brimstone sermon. And Nolan slept right through it.
On Friday night, the night before we came home, Bill and I were inside, packing things up. Sam and Nolan were outside with their squirt bottles and were playing quite nicely. I was upstairs emptying some dresser drawers when I heard Nolan crying and Bill speaking in a noticeably angry voice (yes, it does happen on rare occasion--he can get angry). Nolan continued crying and I thought Bill sounded particularly ticked off, so I went downstairs to see what was going on.
At this point, I need to backtrack. Let me remind you that we have 3 boys. And we were in a remote part of the state. More than once that week, the boys (usually Nolan) had a bathroom emergency when no bathrooms were in sight, so I would give them permission to use a bush.
Back to Friday night. Apparently, while playing outside with Sam, Nolan realized he needed to have a bowel movement. Rather than walk the ten feet to the front door, Nolan pulled down his pants and pooped. In the side yard of the house. Right in the landscaping. In broad daylight. Where people could see him.
Now I understood Bill's tone. He wasn't really mad, he was mortified! I had to get a plastic bag and have Sam show me where the item had been deposited. Trust me, it's far worse than cleaning up after a dog.
After I dealt with that, I went to talk to our wayward son and to put his pajamas on him. He was still recovering from his tears of shame. He wrapped his arms around me and said, "I had to say I was sorry four..no five times!" I laughed. But he knows now to never, never poop in the yard.
One last funny thing. The freezer in the rental house did not have an ice cube maker. It was no big deal, as there were four ice cube trays in there. But the boys have apparently never seen an ice cube tray before. All three of them were fascinated with them. Whenever I needed to get ice out, they'd all gather around to watch me crack the ice and pop the cubes out. They acted like it was such a strange invention. It made me feel really, really old.
Sunday, June 24, 2012
A brief hiatus
I will not be blogging about my vacation reflections tonight. I still have some stories about Nolan to share, but those will have to wait for another night. No, tonight I must share my lovely evening shopping experience.
We had dinner with Bill's mom. On our way home, we all stopped at Meijer. Normally, I shop solo, but since we were driving right by, it made sense for us to shop as a family. In theory, it was supposed to be a quick shopping trip. I didn't need much, and Bill was going to take the older two boys to the far side of the store for some pool supplies we needed and to look at the Legos. Nolan and I were going to zip through the grocery section and get the food we needed.
Everything was going just fine until the cereal aisle. Nolan suddenly gave me that frantic look I have learned to hate. Sure enough, he said, "Potty!" I groaned. I asked if he could wait a few minutes. He thought this over seriously and said, "I can wait five seconds". Oh dear. Just then, Bill rounded the corner with his cart, Sam, and one angry 8-year-old who was in the midst of a tantrum. I ignored Mr. Tantrum, handed Nolan off to Bill and said, "Go! Find a bathroom!" Sam decided he needed to go as well, so that left me with two carts...and TJ. TJ was mad because Bill wouldn't loan him the money he needed to get some Lego thing. Ugh. I couldn't maneuver both carts by myself, so I had a hostile child pushing one. I was quite worried he was going to run my foot over.
Thankfully, Bill rejoined us fairly soon and helped us pick up the last few items we needed in produce (FYI- never let your husband select the cherries. He bought almost 3 pounds. I just about needed a loan to pay for his fruit!). In the checkout lane, the kids started getting on my nerves in a MAJOR way. Bill was standing behind us, with a box fan and the pool supplies in his cart. He may have also been pretending he didn't know us. I was unloading my cart with the groceries in it. Sam wanted one of most of the candies in the candy aisle, Nolan wanted to get out of the cart, and TJ was still beefing about the Legos. I grumbled to Bill about this being the reason why I don't like to take the boys shopping. He nodded in agreement and I bent down to grab a gallon of milk from the bottom of the cart.
At this point, I don't know exactly what happened. I was crouched down, and the milk was less than a foot away from the ground. But I somehow dropped it. And the side split open. And milk shot everywhere! TJ got doused, Sam got splashed, I had milk in my hair and all over my face. I managed to tip the mangled gallon and actually salvaged about 2/3 of the milk. Bill ran off to pick up a new gallon of milk (and to probably escape the chaos). Our cashier handed me a couple rolls of paper towels so I could try to contain the lake of milk while she finished ringing up the freaked out customer in front of me. Another cashier took the mangled gallon away in a big bag. TJ was sobbing. Sam was freaking out. I was getting extremely dizzy from bending down and was trying to keep from blacking out completely. I was starting to feel like I was in a bad sitcom. At this point, TJ suddenly calmed himself down. He said (VERY LOUDLY), "We can't blame Mom. You know this isn't her fault. She just hasn't been exercising."
Okay. Bad situation has become worse.
We made it home. The kids are now in bed. I will not be taking them back to Meijer any time soon.
We had dinner with Bill's mom. On our way home, we all stopped at Meijer. Normally, I shop solo, but since we were driving right by, it made sense for us to shop as a family. In theory, it was supposed to be a quick shopping trip. I didn't need much, and Bill was going to take the older two boys to the far side of the store for some pool supplies we needed and to look at the Legos. Nolan and I were going to zip through the grocery section and get the food we needed.
Everything was going just fine until the cereal aisle. Nolan suddenly gave me that frantic look I have learned to hate. Sure enough, he said, "Potty!" I groaned. I asked if he could wait a few minutes. He thought this over seriously and said, "I can wait five seconds". Oh dear. Just then, Bill rounded the corner with his cart, Sam, and one angry 8-year-old who was in the midst of a tantrum. I ignored Mr. Tantrum, handed Nolan off to Bill and said, "Go! Find a bathroom!" Sam decided he needed to go as well, so that left me with two carts...and TJ. TJ was mad because Bill wouldn't loan him the money he needed to get some Lego thing. Ugh. I couldn't maneuver both carts by myself, so I had a hostile child pushing one. I was quite worried he was going to run my foot over.
Thankfully, Bill rejoined us fairly soon and helped us pick up the last few items we needed in produce (FYI- never let your husband select the cherries. He bought almost 3 pounds. I just about needed a loan to pay for his fruit!). In the checkout lane, the kids started getting on my nerves in a MAJOR way. Bill was standing behind us, with a box fan and the pool supplies in his cart. He may have also been pretending he didn't know us. I was unloading my cart with the groceries in it. Sam wanted one of most of the candies in the candy aisle, Nolan wanted to get out of the cart, and TJ was still beefing about the Legos. I grumbled to Bill about this being the reason why I don't like to take the boys shopping. He nodded in agreement and I bent down to grab a gallon of milk from the bottom of the cart.
At this point, I don't know exactly what happened. I was crouched down, and the milk was less than a foot away from the ground. But I somehow dropped it. And the side split open. And milk shot everywhere! TJ got doused, Sam got splashed, I had milk in my hair and all over my face. I managed to tip the mangled gallon and actually salvaged about 2/3 of the milk. Bill ran off to pick up a new gallon of milk (and to probably escape the chaos). Our cashier handed me a couple rolls of paper towels so I could try to contain the lake of milk while she finished ringing up the freaked out customer in front of me. Another cashier took the mangled gallon away in a big bag. TJ was sobbing. Sam was freaking out. I was getting extremely dizzy from bending down and was trying to keep from blacking out completely. I was starting to feel like I was in a bad sitcom. At this point, TJ suddenly calmed himself down. He said (VERY LOUDLY), "We can't blame Mom. You know this isn't her fault. She just hasn't been exercising."
Okay. Bad situation has become worse.
We made it home. The kids are now in bed. I will not be taking them back to Meijer any time soon.
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