A fun little conversation

I don’t have much for you today.  I’m so busy working on this Saturday’s St. Louis Interactive Festival that I haven’t had much time for anything else.  Oh, and my internet was down all morning.

I KNOW, RIGHT?!

Please, if you are interested in attending the Interactive Festival, I encourage you to do so.  We have some A-HA-MAZING speakers lined up.  Seriously – top notch folks.  Don’t believe me?  Check out the St. Louis Bloggers Guild site and read for yourself.  Every day this week, I have been writing out descriptions of each panel and giving you the bios of all our speakers.

It’s FREE to attend AND your registration includes breakfast, lunch and beverages!  What a deal!  You should come!!!

M’kay – moving on…

I had an interesting little conversation with Tia this morning as I got dressed.  It went something like this.

Tia: “Mommy, I wike your undawear.”

Me: “Thanks, Tia.”

“Tia: “Who buyed dat for you?”

Me: “Nobody – I bought it for myself.”

Tia: “You buyed your own undawear?”

Me: “Yep.”

Tia: “Well, who buyed you your pants?”

Me: “Nobody.  I bought these pants for myself.”

Tia: “Why you buyin’ you own cwothes?”

Me: “Well, when you get to be a grown-up, you just usually buy your own clothes.”

Tia: “Dat woody thtinkths, Mommy.” (That really, stinks)  I fink dat sounds bowing (boring).”

Me: *pause* “Well, it does kind of stink doesn’t it?”

Being a grown up is so boring…

We came face to face with Big Foot

My kids love a good story.  And as story tellers go, I have to say, my husband and I are pretty good.

Remember this story that Sloan and I concocted with his Star Wars figurines and a dollhouse?

While my stories tend to be rather fantastic and, erm, out there (think unicorns and flying mommy’s) Lee are more realistic and he adds a lot of special sound effects.  He’s actually freaked Tia out with his stories so much that she immediately burrows under her bed covers before he even begins. 

And, well, you know how we get pleasure out of terrifying our poor children

Last night was a beautiful fall night.  A little cold for my liking, but pleasant enough for us to take a long walk as a family, then come home and build a fire in the fire pit and roast hot dogs, then sit in a circle and tell stories.

When Lee began telling his story about two little boys camping in the woods where a Big Foot was known to live, a hush fell over our little group.  Tia climbed into my lap and put her hands over her ears as Lee ran around in the shadows of the yard, growling softly, rattling the chain link fence and stomping around.

Midway through the story, Landon climbed into my arms.  Because he’s a bit of a mama’s boy and tends to get jealous when others get my time, I assumed he just wanted to let Tia know that he had a solid stake on the territory of my lap.

Lee ended his story by telling us all to close our eyes.  When we did, he dashed back into  the darkest part of the yard and shook the chain link fence letting out a fierce growl.  Sloan and Tia screamed and laughed.  I let out a mock scream and we all folded over in a heap of giggles at daddy’s fantastic tale.

Until, that is, I tried to extract my poor third child from my arms only to discover he had a death grip on my neck and his little heart was racing wildly.  I pulled his face back just enough to tell him everything was all right and he dissolved into tears and buried his face in my neck.

Landon is only 21 months old, so we didn’t even realize that he was paying attention to our story, much less comprehending it.  But he did, poor baby, and we scared him half to death.  He moaned “Daddy,” and refused to let go of my neck.

I finally extracted him enough to pass him off to Lee who held him tight and reassured him everything was okay, while we both cracked up  looked on in pity feeling deeply saddened that we had scared the boy so much.  Of course, Daddy always has the ability to make everything better and in no time had Landon laughing and happy again.

So, needless to say, I think we have sufficiently damaged the third child enough to ensure that he’ll need significant therapy as an adult to deal with his irrational fear of that mythical creature called Big Foot.

Yay us.

(eyeroll)

Hail Mommy

In January 2007, St. Louis had a massive ice storm.  Lee was out of town that weekend (naturally – don’t crazy things always happen when your husband is out of town?) and I was alone with a then 3 year old Sloan and 11 month old Tia.

In the dead of night, ice fell from the sky in frigid sheets, layering already weak trees (as it was the second big ice storm of the season) with several pounds of frost.  About 4:00 that morning, I awoke to realize that the power was out and the house was very cold.  Outside my window, I heard a pop and saw a flash of blue and realized a transformer had just blown.

And then I heard the sickening crunch of a tree branch slicing through our roof (it didn’t come into the house, thankfully, but went through the over hang barely a foot from where my bed lay).

It was then that Sloan woke up and raced out of his room exclaiming – “Mommy, blue monsters are throwing ice at our house!”

Then we looked out the window to see a crazy mess with downed trees and branches all over our yard, driveway and roof.  

And from then on, my child was altered forever more.  He became terrified of storms.  The tiniest flash of lightening sends him into a frenzy and with  a rumble of thunder he begins nervously talking a mile a minute, his panicked voice reaching ear piercing decibles.

He is equally obsessed with the weather.  I assume it’s because he is trying to keep his enemy close, but he loves to read books about tornadoes and hurricanes, tsunamis and floods.  I’ve caught him on more than one occasion watching the weather channel and he frequently gives me updates on the weather in different parts of the country.

“Hey mom, did you know Florida is having a tropical storm?  That’s like a hurricane only it’s not really a hurricane.  Good thing we’re not there, huh?”

So, it was with great terror that we got caught in a doozy of a storm on Saturday.  I had taken the kids to buy Halloween costumes (another story for another day but seriously – costumes are ridiculously overpriced.  Why have I never learned to sew!?!)  and we were on our way home when literally out of nowhere the heavens opened and released with great fury, directly over my (hot) minivan.

As a bolt of lightening streaked across the sky, Sloan yelped from the backseat, “Mom! Lightening.  We gotta get home now!”

“I know, honey, I’m trying,” was my reply.  To which I heard, “Hey mom.  I’m pretty sure a tornado is coming so if you see it, you have to turn the car around and rive away from it.”

Me: “Okay, babe, I got it.”

Sloan: “Mom.  In case a tornado does come and we get sucked up, cover your head with your hands to protect it.”

Me: “We’re not going to get sucked up, Sloan.”

Sloan: “But we might-”

It was then that the hail started.  Large balls of ice began pelting my car along with alligator size raindrops reducing my visibility to almost 0.  It was loud and ferocious and I found myself lamenting the fact that for years I’ve been praying that a hail storm would center itself over my house so insurance would cover a new roof and instead it was centered over my defenseless (but hot) minivan. 

And over the racket of the storm this is what I heard in the backseat:

Tia (with her hands squeezed over her ears): I’n stewrd mommy!  I’n woody stewrd.”

Landon (looking around with furrowed brow): “Woooowww!”

Sloan (eyes so wide they threaten to swallow his face): “HAIL MOMMY. HAIL MOMMY!  HAIL! MOMMY! WE’VE GOT HAIL!”

Me: “It’s okay, it’ll be over soon.”

Sloan: “JUST PRAY TO GOD MOM! PRAY. TO. GOD!!!”

Me: “You pray, I’ve got to drive.” (Mind you we’re shouting at one another because the noise is deafening)

And in the rearview mirror I watch my 6 year old fold his hands and press them to his forehead beseeching God to rescue us from what he sees to be imminent death by thunderstorm.

And the whole situation strikes me as so funny that I start cracking up, as I sometimes tend to do when I’m nervous or upset, whilst all along keeping my eyes firmly glued to the barely visible red tail lights of the car in front of me.

Then, two miles up the road, the clouds in the sky parted, giving way to nothing more than a light drizzle.  I look back in the mirror at my shell shocked crew and find Tia still has her ears covered and eyes closed, Landon is grinning from ear to ear and Sloan looks utterly amazed.

When he catches my eye, Sloan slowly grins, then pumps his fist in the air.  “That was awesome!” he exclaimed.  “That was the big one and I wasn’t scared at all.”

Uh-huh. Right. 

And that, my friends is the story of the day we survived the ‘big one’.  All it took was a few “Hail Mommy’s” and a prayer.

Balancing Act

I’ve noticed recently that I have quite a few more readers following my blog on a daily basis than I realized.  I mean, I’m not experiencing mutliple thousands of hits per day, but my readership has increased significantly in the last few months. 

While I’m grateful for this fact, as I’d always hoped to turn this more into a creative outlet for my writing and less of a family journal, I also feel a lot more pressure on a day to day basis because of it.  I find myself thinking of things to write and then talking myself out of it because I’m not really sure if anyone would actually want to read about said topic or it seems funny in my head, but translating it onto cyber-paper loses the effect.

Whatever the case, I do find myself thinking a lot more about my words, how I write and how much I really want to share with the world.

I enjoy writing about my kids more than anything, because…well, because they’re funny.  For example, yesterday Sloan came home and told us that the girl from iCarly is hot.  When Lee asked him what that meant he replied, “Uh, you know it means she’s, like, really awful…Really, I just like to say that she’s hot!”  

Six year olds say funny things and I love to capture those things so that someday, when he’s all grown up and we are at his rehearsal dinner the night before his wedding, I’ll be able to read some of the funny things he said and reminisce about the boy that he once was.

But there is a balance on how much I share about my kids.  I try to think clearly through how they might feel about what I wrote for the world to read when they get older.  I want them to laugh at these stories – I don’t want them to be embarrassed. 

So, sometimes, I keep things to myself.  Even if they’re funny.  There have been a couple of times when I’ve contemplated writing about a particular struggle or disciplinary issue, in the hopes of getting some insight or wisdom or understanding from other parents, but have refrained eventually because I don’t want my kids to look back and be ashamed or humiliated by my words.

This is a balancing act.

I also enjoy writing about motherhood issues because that’s where I am right now.  I’m in the thick of this thing called motherhood and it’s so nice to know that I’m not the only one who sometimes feels isolated.  Blogging has become my lifeline to a world outside the walls of my home.  There are some days when I get so discouraged as I look at the caller ID on my phone and realize no one’s called my house in two days.  But then I see that I have several comments on my blog and my spirits are lifted, because, while it’s not as personal, it’s still a connection.

Motherhood can be lonely sometimes, yes?

My conundrum with writing about all things motherhood, however, is that I often feel like I don’t have that much to say.  I don’t have any innovative child rearing tactics.  I’m thankful each evening when I tuck them in to bed that they’re all still alive!  I do aim to mother with purpose, but I don’t feel like I’m a good cheerleader on the sidelines of the motherhood game. 

I’m more like the pimple faced, uncoordinated kid who stumbles around the field and every once in awhile bounces the ball off her foot and falls into the end zone. 

What I mean is – I have a plan in my parenting, but I don’t have an excellent plan book so sharing mothering advice seems daunting to me.  I don’t have great discipline techniques or fun, crafty ideas, or cute recipes.  I don’t have great advice for getting your kids to clean up their rooms or how to make them eat broccoli without bitter weeping and gnashing of teeth. 

I can, however, write about each of these issues in such a way that we can all chuckle together at the hilarity of parenting.  For example, while I can’t give you point by point advice on how to get your child to obey you immediately, I can tell you that yesterday, when I told Landon to give me the penny that he found and was playing with, he promptly shoved it in his mouth and swallowed it.  Um – a little dangerous? Yes.  A little funny?  Uh-huh.  Because I’m now on poop patrol to make sure that the penny passes. 

I find that funny. 

Moving on…I love to blog about the fun things that happen in our lives.  Lee and I are so blessed – were blessed far beyond what I ever imagined we would be.  We are not rich…but we are not poor.  We have three healthy, beautiful, hilarious kids, a house that meets our needs, faithful and wise friends and we laugh every. single. day.  Our life is wonderful.

And so I blog about it.  I try to keep the blog light and fun, but OY! There’s pressure even in that.  I find myself sitting at the computer, staring at a blank screen, begging myself to think of something funny to say.  And sometimes I come up dry.  So somedays I’m just not going to be funny.  Somedays I don’t feel funny.  Like today.  Sorry.

There are other things I like to write about like, for example, politics.  But we all saw how that went for me the last time I did it, so I try to keep my political ramblings to a minimum because I want my blog to be a happy place.  There will be times when I share my views because, ahem, this is my blog.  But, in general, I try not to go overboard with the politics.

Blogging is great.  It’s fun, it gives me some sense that I’m pursuing my passion, I’m making a little money, I’m keeping a record of my children’s lives and I’m working out some of the kinks in my head.  But I am also balancing the act of sharing the right amount of information.  It is a delicate balance, but, so far, I think it’s going alright.

So what about you?  How do you balance the art of sharing your lives without sharing too much?

Salsa – Chips Optional

Saturday night Lee and I hit the town for a rare and necessary date night.  We hired a babysitter like big kids, got all dolled up (little black dress, rockin’ red high heels and a smokey eye completed my ensemble – I felt like a rock star!) and headed to the Central West End, where we reminded ourselves once again just how far removed we are from college.

After a quick dinner, we headed to the basement dance club, Club Viva! where we took an hour long Salsa lesson before they opened up the floor.  It was nothing short of a blast.

I should preface this by telling you that I love to go dancing.  It was one of my very favorite things to do in college and I would go dancing every weekend if we could.  Lee, however, over the years has decided that he’s not crazy about going to dance clubs anymore.  I’ve had to practically beg him to take me, and somehow, since we’ve been married, we’ve only made it out dancing twice.

And both experiences were, uh, not great.  The first, when I was roughly 18 months pregnant with Sloan and I thought a little dancing might be good to get things kick-started, left Lee worried I’d have a baby on the dance floor, so he refused to dance with me and I spent an hour dancing with an adorable mentally challenged boy who kept trying to kiss me – I swear, I couldn’t make this stuff up. 

 The second time was spring break in Florida right after I found out I was pregnant with Tia.  When the girls started licking shots off of one another’s bodies on stage, Lee and I quickly realized we were out of our league and left.

Thus, when he said he wanted to take me dancing – I was thrilled…and a little nervous.

So, we found ourselves in a line with a few other brave souls where a little Columbian man show us how to shimmy and shake our hips.  And, I gotta say, Lee and I weren’t half bad.  I mean, I’m no Shakira, but I got my hips swinging back and forth without completely falling all over myself – and considering I was in 3 inch heels, I’d say I deserve a medal.

At one point I did look over and see Lee doing the Electric Slide, which caused me to keel over in a peal of laughter, but otherwise, we were rockin’ the joint.

1, 2, 3 (pause) 5, 6, 7 (pause) These are the counts for the salsa.  Apparently the numbers 4 and 8 are taboo – you just skip them.  Now, stand up and step forward 1 on your left foot, then step back 2, on your right foot, then step back 3 on your left?  Got it?  Did you swing your hips?  You’re set then!

After the lesson, the dance floor was opened up and the real dancers came out.  Those girls knew how to swing their hips!  Lee and I got out on the floor and with our limited knowledge let loose with the meanest beginner salsa you’ve ever seen.  It was awe-inspiring.

Upon taking a break and letting my screaming feet rest, a young, adorable latin dancer named Vinnie asked me to dance.  Lee laughed and pushed me toward the danced floor while I stammered, “Uh…I’m not…ya know…very good.”

“S’Ok,” Vinne shrugged, then started girating his hips back and forth and spinning me around.  I felt like Baby in Dirty Dancing (“I carried a watermelon”).  My arms flailed about,  my feet tapped danced more than salsa’ed and, at one point, I threw in a rather impressive arabesque.  But, through it all, my hips shook like a professional.

I think Vinnie liked it as he asked me to dance two more times.  Either that or he felt sorry for me and was hoping to give me some pointers to keep me from making a total fool of myself.  Actually, it’s been a long time since I danced with a strange college boy and I kept trying to tuck my hand into Lee’s arm to show that I was taken, but my darling husband refused to let me turn down an offer to dance.

Punk.

He stood on the sidelines and laughed as I danced with not only Vinnie, but the tiniest little Columbian man I’ve ever seen.  He was adorable, sweet and about 65 years old.  At one point, he grabbed my hips and moved them back and forth to the rhythm.

Aaaaaaawkwaaaard.

But so much fun.  Lee and I partied like rock stars until we looked at his watch and realized it was going to cost a a small fortune to pay the babysitter for our night out.  

And so, like the thirty-somethings that we are, we hobbled out of Club Viva!  But, we both vowed that we would return, because it really was one of the most enjoyable evenings we’ve had in a long time.

And my hips don’t lie…

Some Linky Love

I don’t have much to say today.  Well, okay that’s not true…I have TONS to say, but I’m not really sure that any of you would really be interested in hearing me talk about my dirty kitchen, the organic macaroni and cheese I fed my kids today that tasted like smelly gym socks or my indignant objection to this recently announced new policy.

Nope – I really don’t have a lot to say today.  So instead, I’ll let you read a few of the posts that have made me laugh out loud in recent days.  I gotta tell ya – there are some funny, talented people out there.  One of them is BooMama.  Just read this post and you’ll see what I mean. 

Then there’s Shannon from Rocks in My Dryer.  This post about her daughter’s imaginery friend cracked me up, especially given the fact that I’ve had to scold Sloan’s transient imaginary pal, Cody, on occasion for his blatent disregard for the rules of our home.

This is an older post by Dana, but every time I think about it, I giggle again.

Those are but a few of the things that have made me laugh in recent days.  And what am I laughing about right now, you ask?  Wait, what?  You actually didn’t ask anything?  Oh…well, do you want to know what’s making me laugh anyway?  Oh good!

Sloan has a little buddy over this afternoon.  “C” got off the bus with him and they’ve been having a good old time acting like macho little men, high fiving, calling each other dude and playing war.  Right now, they’re on the swingset and since it’s a gorgeous day, I’ve got the windows open and I can hear them playing.  A few snippets:

“Dude! You are, like, so awesome at swinging.”

“I know, dude.”

“Dude, let’s play pirate – I’ll be the bad guy.”

“Okay! I’m the scallywag.”

“What’s a scallywag?”

“I dunno. It’s like a dirty, piratey kind of dude.”

“Huh. Dude!”

So I’m off to put in the oh-so-macho Star Wars whilst the scallywags nosh on brownies and I attempt to figure out why on earth my house smells like cigarette smoke – I’m attributing it to the open windows, but you know – it’s still a little perplexing.

Happy Weekend!

Three Ring Circus

I just ran downstairs after hearing my daughter screech, “MOOOOOOOMMMMMYYYYYY!” only to find her dangling from the top of the door jam in the basement.

How did she get up there? I couldn’t tell you.  But however she managed to get up, she couldn’t figure out how to come back down.  And there she dangled, like a wild little monkey, screaming for help.

So I’m taking her in today to sign her up for gymnastics.  I’ve thought about it for awhile, but this solidified for me the need to channel her energy, bravery and athleticism in a more productive way.

Or I will most definately die young of heart failure…

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Sloan went to bed with a rash all over his legs last night.  It was little red dots all up his legs.  I assume he is having a reaction to something, though I can’t imagine what it would be. 

This morning when he was getting dressed, I noticed the rash was still there.  “I wonder what that’s from?” I said. 

“It’s because I’m allergic to racoons,” Sloan replied. 

“Really?  How do you know?” I asked. 

Sloan shrugged.  “These are just things I know, mom.  I’m just that smart.”

So, you know – he’s having an allergic reaction to racoons.  Why didn’t I think of that?

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While driving down to Arkansas, Lee turned into man-driver extraordinaire.  Normally Lee is a fairly calm man-driver.  Like any self respecting male, he does like to get to his destination without the hassle of those pesky pit stops, but he handles the occasional need for a bathroom break with great aplomb, patiently pulling over and waiting.

Unless, of course, we decide at the last minute to leave at 5:30 pm for a five and a half hour drive.  It is then, and only then, that Lee turns into man-driver extraordinaire.  The stops are few and far between.  He does not deny anyone a bathroom break, of course, but he actually clapped his hands this trip. 

As in, “Okay Tia, you gotta go fast baby.  Go, go, go!” clap, clap, clap.

It was a race against the clock and you know what? Lee beat the clock.  He won.  We made excellent time.  All because we powered through and did not stop unless the need was dire.

What a man!

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At one of the (very short) stops we made there were a group of Army soldiers, all decked out in their fatigues.  This fascinated Sloan and he immeditaely proclaimed, in that fantastically boisterous voice of his, “Mom, look! Army guys! Hey Army guys!”

One of the men turned and waved back at Sloan who then gave him two thumbs up and said, “Don’t worry – I’m being good.”

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Finally, as I type this post, Tia and Landon are in the other room tormenting each other.  I hear them.  I know it’s happening.  But I’m ignoring it.  The screams aren’t blood curdling…yet.

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On the way home from our trip yesterday, Lee and I were discussing our dreams for our family.  Places we want to go, things we want to do with the kids, etc…And we realized that it’s going to go by fast.  This phase really doesn’t last long.

So although I may feel like I am the ringmaster in the three ring circus, I’m trying not to rush this motherhood thing.  Ten years will go by fast.  And when it does, I will no longer have a chubby little baby, slobbering on my hair as he hangs on my neck while I try and do some work.

The house will be quiet all day long.  It sounds glorious…but it also sounds a little boring.

And now I’m off because the volume has escalated.  It sounds like they are beating each other. 

Let the show begin!!!

Monday’s Funnies…

Here it is – the video of my sedated daughter.  Again, don’t think I’m advocating the sedation of children.  But, you know, sometimes it needs to be done and why not have a little fun with it, right?  Honestly, I just think it’s the sweetest thing and it makes me smile.

There are three different videos.  They’re only 30 seconds a piece so it won’t take long to watch them  The third is the best – that’s when she discovers her hand.  The quality of video is not that great – I don’t have one-a them fancy phones, ya know?  Also, the video is sideways – sorry, I can’t do anything about it.  If you turn your head just so, you’ll be able to see just fine.

Aren’t you excited?  Do enjoy…

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Moving on.  Have any of you seen the site, Awkward Family Photos?  Well, if you haven’t, you absolutely must!  Lee and I surfed it the other night and laughed so hard we had tears in our eyes.  What a brilliant idea – take the random, horrible, awkward photos of families and post them for all the world to see.

Glorious.

Just to prove to you the the hilarity of this site, I’ll give you two sneak peeks.  Then, you’ll have to head over and see for yourself…

Cabbage Patch

That last photo – oh the glory.  That’s just so funny.  So, for those of you out there struggling with Monday, remember, the world is full of goofy, awkward moments that scream for a laugh.  So, in that spirit, may you all have a day full of joy and laughter!

The First Sleepover

On Friday night, we hosted our first sleepover.  Sloan had two sweet friends over and they spent the evening playing Star Wars, watching Star Wars, eating S’Mores, playing UNO, and altogether wearing Lee out.

In typical sleepover fashion, they hopped up on junk food and got very little sleep.  But they also made sweet memories.  We are blessed with good, good friends.  The two boys Sloan had over are great kids.  They’re the kind of kids you want your child spending time with.  They bring out the best in Sloan and we altogether enjoyed watching the three of them play together. 

Tia and I went to my mom’s house while the boys played.  Mom was out on the town, but Tia and I had fun girl time watching Little House on the Prairie and painting our fingernails.  I let Tia paint my nails – she also managed to paint a majority of my fingers as well.  Though my nails are now an assortment of colors (red, purple and orange were her color scheme) she was so proud, I couldn’t bear to take the polish off.  So I sported my sassy nails at church this morning.  I think, though, that I’ll clean them up tonight 🙂 

Suzanne and Nicole, thanks for lending us your children for the night.  They were absolutely fantastic.  For your enjoyment, I’m going to list some of my favorite quotes from the boys and a few pics from the super awesome, totally cool first ever sleepover!

Me (upon returning home and finding the boys all nestled shirtless into their sleeping bags in the tent): “How was your evening, guys?”
Bobby: “Mr. Stuart just told us an…unusual story…
Apparently Lee told them a rather animated story that scared them just slightly…Luke ended up practically sleeping on top of Lee.

Sloan: “When I go to heaven, I’m going to see Granny. I have a Granny (his great-grandma) from my Arkansas. She died.”
Luke: “My grandma died one year ago. She made the best muffins.”
Sloan: “Your actual grandma died?” I love his distinction between a great-grandma and an actual grandma…
Luke: “Yeah – she made good muffins.”
(Don’t you love their sweet honesty?)
Bobby: “I have a great-great-great grandma who’s an Indian. An American Indian I think.”

Bobby: “The only thing that would make this sleepover better is if we could stay two nights.”
Luke: “Yeah. I like everything about this sleepover…except the sleeping.”

There were so many other sweet quotes from the evening, but those are the only ones I could remember. Listening to 6 year old boys communicate with one another is a hoot!

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I laughed till I cried…

This morning we took Tia in for the procedure to clean out her ears.  I was a little apprehensive before going in.  It seemed like such a silly thing to do, putting our child out just to clean her ears.  And because none of my children have ever been under anesthesia, I was just a little fearful about how she might react.

I needn’t worry.  In fact, the morning was down right enjoyable…at least for Lee and I.  Not only was it enjoyable, it was hysterical.  Hys-ter-i-cal.

Because we know of Tia’s penchant for freaking out at the last minute, we decided to let them give her a sedative to ease her nerves before taking her back for anesthesia.  Now, I’m not one for medicating my children.  In fact, I generally try to not give them any medications unless they absolutely need it.  So don’t think I’m a terrible parent for what I’m about to tell you.

Every parent should have the opportunity, just once, to see their child under the influence of a sedative.  Because it’s about the funniest thing you’ll ever see in your life.

And no, I’m not advocating drugging children for fun.  ‘Kay? So no one get bent out of shape.  I’m just sayin’.  It’s pretty daggum funny.

All that to say, seeing my daughter drugged was one of the sweetest, most hilarious things I’ve ever witnessed in my life.  She wasn’t just punchy, she was just plain out of it.  Giggling, waving her head around, making funny faces and so on…I laughed until tears streamed down my cheeks.  It was awesome.

I didn’t have the video camera with me, unfortunately, but I did take some video with my camera and as soon as I figure out how to download it, I will share.  Because, seriously – it was hysterical.  At one point she waved her hand in front of her face and found that to be the oddest, funniest thing she’s ever seen.  She kept waving it back and forth in front of her eyes, giggling the whole time.  When we asked her her name she said, “Bootiful Tia,” then broke out in a peal of silly laughter.  When we asked her her brother’s names she answered, “Bootie,” then dropped her head back and let out a high pitched, totally un-Tia-like giggle.  Awesome.  Just awesome. 

On top of having a thoroughly entertaining morning, the doctor was able to fully clean out Tia’s ears and informed us that she did indeed have severely impacted wax and that she was likely experiencing a 25 decibel hearing loss because of it.  So we were very glad that we had the procedure done, even if it did seem extreme.

So now we’re home and the drugs have worn off and Tia is back to her old self, tormenting her brother playing with her brother and having a good old time.  She doesn’t remember anything about the procedure and has no pain.  She’s a little groggy, but a good nap this afternoon will take care of that.  

And I now have one more memory of her childhood that I’ll take with me to my grave.