Accepting Applications for Zach's Best Friend (also known as Why I Hate Play Dates)

Alright, look at this kid.  How can you not want to be best friends with him?  Our poor Zachy.  The kid has been having a tough couple of weeks realizing he doesn't have a "best friend".  (As a third child, he is lucky if his mom and dad acknowledge him bi-weekly).  We are SO lucky that both Ben and Maddie have a friend that lives right next door that they can play pretty much without supervision and without any scheduling.  But Zach has no such luck.  He has Wes.  Who destroys everything and laughs about it.  So, I have decided I need to take applications to seek out a best friend for Zach. 

Here are some requirements I have come up with for the mom of said best friend:
1.  You must live right next to me or be willing to move right next to me.  I am not nearly organized nor motivated enough to schedule a play date that will require me to travel any distance over 100 feet. 
2.  You must quickly come to the realization that I suck at reciprocating play dates.  I just do.  I love for you to take my kid a few hours (giving me time to read a book or update a blog, perhaps) but I don't want your kids to come to my house.  It stresses me out. 
3.  It would also be nice if you feel sorry for me and say once in a while, "no of course Wesley can come with Zach to play.  I love your kids and they are welcome to come over whenever they want."
4.  You can't be a mom that plans fancy birthday parties.  You just can't.  You make me feel to bad about my own birthday party planning skills and raise the bar for my kids who wonder why their mom doesn't love them enough to buy coordinating decorations and great goody bags.  OR, bonus points for being a mom who likes to plan awesome birthday parties so much you just go ahead and plan mine too!
5.  It's okay if you like to do arts and crafts.  Zach loves arts and crafts and would love to do arts and crafts at your house.  Just make sure he knows that we don't do that kind of stuff at our house.
6.  It would be great if you owned a trampoline.  Zach also loves trampolines.  That ain't happening here. 
7.  Must love to play board games.  But if you play Monopoly, make sure you play by the Brogan house rules as to not confuse Zach when we play at our house:  you each get to roll the dice five times and whoever gets the farthest on the board wins.  If you ruin this for me, the best friend relationship will be immediately terminated.

Zach says he doesn't have any specific requirements and will consider applicants between the ages of 4 and 6, although a 5 year old is preferred.  I told him he can't ask that kind of question in an interview.  Let me know if you would like to apply!  I'm sure the competition is going to be stiff, so bribes of Diet Pepsi are highly encouraged.  

Top Five Reasons Wes is Playing Me with Potty Training

If talk of potty training doesn't float your boat, you may want to skip this post.  Furthermore, if talk of poop grosses you out, be forewarned, this post has poop.  Unfortunately for me, lots of poop.  I sometimes can't believe my life has been reduced to writing about bowel movements.  Anyway, I digress.  So, we all know that Wesley is just something else.  I really haven't decided what "else" he is yet.  We have been potty training him for what seems like ten years and what is actually probably about two months.  I also would like to interject here that his failure to be properly potty trained can be blamed 50% on my laziness, 40% on his laziness and 10% on his genius.  He just doesn't really care and I can't say I blame the guy.  I also don't really care - I'm the first to admit that Matt and I are both pretty much tapped out when it comes to toddler parenting and it is 100 times easier to just put a pull-up on the kid and call it a day.  However, Matt and I were talking a couple of days ago and it kind of sounded like a Jeff Foxworthy skit, except instead of knowing if we are rednecks, it is knowing that Wesley is totally playing us with potty training...here are some of the top reasons:

#4 If you ask him if he has to go to the bathroom, he will look at you and ask if he is wearing underwear or a pull-up.  If I tell him he is wearing underwear, he will say he should go.  If I tell him he is wearing a pull-up, he insists he doesn't have to go (probably while quietly and effortlessly relieving himself in said pull-up).

#3 He hates going to the bathroom.  I mean seriously hates it.  I sometimes just have to close the door, sit against it so he can't escape and pull his pants down.  He screams for about five minutes, I start to threaten to spank him, he finally climbs up on the stool, pees, instantly stops screaming, looks at me and says "I told you I had to pee".

#2 The other day when Wes was with Matt he (Wes not Matt) peed and proceeded to change his own pull-up and pants.  This started the whole conversation of "the kid could probably just be potty trained if he is changing himself for you".  Point taken - I started putting him in underwear vowing that I am just going to keep him in underwear, even if it takes until kindergarten to get the whole thing figured out.  Heck, even if it isn't figured out in kindergarten he already has the pants changing skills down, so whatevs.  Then this happened...

#1 I myself was tied up in the bathroom and when I was done, Wes was no longer at the kitchen table eating lunch.  I yelled for him and he said he was upstairs "dumping his poop".  I figured on a scale of 1 to 10 on grossness, this was probably going to be a 34.  I go upstairs and he is literally dumping the poop out of his underwear and proceeding to put them back on.  What do you even do with that?  I figure maybe it's some new age type of potty training and we will just go with it.  God knows we already have enough on our hands.

Things I'm NOT Going to Miss About This Stage of My Life

You know all the cliches:  "They grow up so fast!"  "Don't blink!  You might miss something!"  "Enjoy every moment with them when they are little, you will never get them back!"  So then, when I am honest with whoever is telling me this sweet, well-meaning advice and I retort with "Yeah, I'm pretty excited about them growing up" and I get admonished with "Oh honey, don't say that!"  But a lot of days, it's true.  I am not a huge fan of toddlers.  They have their moments, but they probably wouldn't make my list of top ten age groups to hang around.  Babies are nice and sweet and cuddly, but then they become toddlers, thereby hurting their rankings in my book.  Preschoolers have a slight edge over kindergartners, simply because they aren't as jaded by the older kids on the bus.  Young grade schoolers aren't so bad - I can still manipulate them easily enough.  That pretty much ends my frame of reference with my kids, but I remember how awesome I was as a middle schooler, high schooler and college student - so my kids (I'm sure) will parallel.  But, since my mix currently involves an early grade schooler, kindergartner, preschooler and toddler right now, I've decided to compile a list of things I WILL NOT miss about this stage to be immortalized forever.  Just in case.  Just in case all those well-meaning advice givers were right and I start to get nostalgic for these days (don't bank on it though).

1.  Not knowing who or what left the poop in the middle of the floor.  Was it a toddler?  Was it a puppy?  Is it just mud from boots?  I don't know what it is, but I am really sick of cleaning it up.

2.  Washing sheets.  I can give water rations that would probably make DHS raise an eyebrow, have a kid pee every hour on the hour between supper and bedtime and six times during the "going to bed routine" (before we go upstairs, when we get upstairs, after teeth are brushed {if I'm feeling especially dental conscious that night}, after we start a story, after we say our prayers and one more time before getting tucked in) and somehow the sheets will still get pissed on.  On the top bunk. 

3.  Defending my position to illogical toddlers.  When it's cold, you wear a coat.  When it's not cold, you don't wear a coat.  It isn't that hard of a concept.  So, when I get tired of that, my kid shows up at Thanksgiving dinner in mesh shorts and a muscle t-shirt. 

4.  Watching the crap that they pass off on TV as entertainment.  I sort of sympathize with my dad when he would get so disgusted when we turned on Saved By the Bell.  To my defense, that show runs circles around Dog with a Blog.  Dog with a Blog?  Really?!?  What's even more frustrating is the fact that the show comes on after Good Luck Charlie, which I admittedly DVR so that I can watch it after the kids go to bed.

5.  Being asked "Right?" after every single statement made.  Every.  Single.  One.  I'm not sure where the need for constant positive affirmation comes from...I am NOTHING like that.

6.  Being able to sit on the floor without becoming a jungle gym.  I'm not sure what it is about a parent on the floor that says, "please, climb, flip, hang and lay all over me.  I enjoy it, I really do."

7.  Finding Matchbox cars.  With my feet.  In the dark. 

8.  Being a short order cook at breakfast.  I started this one, I admit it.  And I have tried to change my ways, but I'm too grumpy in the morning to deal with fighting and whining so I just make them whatever they want.  Which means that everyone wants something different that requires me to use the stove, microwave, and toaster simultaneously as well as open every single box of breakfast cereal in the cupboard. 

9.  Fights over who sits where in the car.  It's a vehicle, it is a lot more comfy than my parents' vehicle ever was and it has a TV in it for Pete's sake...why does it matter where you sit? 

10.  One of the greatest advantages to having four kids is that I can usually get one of them to do something for me.  What is it about their nature, though, that when the first kid shoots me down, the second one jumps in to volunteer, which is immediately followed by the original kid shouting "I'll do it!  She asked me first!" which then leads to a pushing/shouting/screaming match and my Diet Pepsi arriving much later then I like.  Ridiculous.

There is never a dull moment, but the opposite of dull is not always joyful bliss at this house full of people my husband and I have created.  But a lot of times it is.  And I choose to enjoy THOSE moments and rue the rest of them. 

I'm Going to Cut Out Your Eyeballs and Other Cute Things Kids Say

So, I wanted to make this blog post about Maddie, since she recently turned six, but let's face it:  She's a people pleaser like her momma and doesn't really do much that gets my creative juices going.  She had a great birthday (I maybe only slightly influenced her decisions on what we should do that day - c'mon, I have the scar, I should get the goods).  We took her friend Lexi, and her mom (who happens to be my friend) out and went for some Mexican, some ear piercing, some nail painting and some movie watching.  All things every girl enjoys!  Unfortunately, some of the boys in the house (namely Zach) were unhappy with the fact that they were not invited on this girls day.  Although he insisted that he loves getting his nails painted (which is true), I told him that this day was just for Maddie so he would have to wait for his birthday.  In a flash of parenting genius (I don't have these very often, so they are memorable) I decided to distract him by asking him what he would like to do for his birthday.  He didn't take the bait.  He started with "Well, I'm not inviting Maddie and Lexi, that's for sure".  I said, it's okay, you can invite whoever you want.  What would you like to do?  He thought for a moment and said "I'm going to cut out everyone's eyeballs and go swimming in them."  Huh.  My parenting genius was failing me at this moment, so I just said, Okaaayyy.  He followed up with "What do you think is behind eyeballs?  Goo?  Stomach?" A recent Walking Dead episode popped into my head, so I answered "Goo, definitely goo."  He says, "Yeah, we could go swimming in that."  While I started to worry about raising a cross-dressing* sociopath (*see "I'm a Grill" entry), I decided I should probably redirect this little fantasy that Zach was having.  So I asked him, well, if that doesn't work out, what ELSE would you like to do for your birthday?  He thought for a moment and as I braced myself for more off-the-wall ideas involving decapitated body parts, he said "Or, we could make puppets.   Yeah puppets."

Shout Out to My Hubby

Wives prepare to be jealous.  Husbands prepare to have the bar raised.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

So, week by week in the trenches with four kids and a new puppy (that is a whole other blog subject) I think it is really easy for Matt and I to lose sight of our relationship with each other.  Our interactions are more like transactions, quick texts about who is going to pick up who and take them where for what.  This week I am out of state for a week…check that…seven full days.  That is a long time.  And I left my husband at home with a seven year old, a six year old, a four year old, a two year old, a 9 week old puppy and a three-page Word document trying to outline just what it is that we do every day.  And from Day One, just one day out of the trenches, and I am quickly realizing just how amazing my husband is.  It’s not just that he is willing to go along with the fact that I work part-time, but sometimes that part-time work takes me out of town (but he does).  It’s not just the fact that he has been one of those dads that doesn’t turn up his nose at changing diapers or giving baths (he doesn’t).  It’s not just that while we may have different approaches to parenting sometimes, he never hesitates to get involved when our family needs him (he does).  It’s not even the fact that no sane husband would take on the suicide mission that I left him on (he did).  It is the fact that he is willing to take 4 kids to family day at his work without his wife as back-up.  It is the fact that he had our kids make and deliver birthday cards for my best friend next door for her birthday this morning.  It is the fact that when he was dropping off at preschool and forgot a water bottle, he just ran up to Hy-Vee and bought one.  It is the fact that he monitored FaceTime with the kids giving them each their own turn to say hi to mom and tell me about their day.  It is the fact that he is amazing. Simply amazing.  And I don’t tell him nearly often enough, nor do I remember it when we are in the trenches together.  Instead, I let myself be diluted by the day-to-day nuisances that come with living in a house with a dude, four kids and a puppy and forget to appreciate just what an amazing partner in crime I have.  To be fair, I’m sure he forgets how totally awesome I am too.  For example, the other day we were driving and the new Pink song came on.  The one entitled “True Love” and he looked at me lovingly saying, “Don’t you think this song kind of describes our relationship?”  I said, I hadn’t really listened that closely to the words, but if it’s titled “True Love”, it must.  And he was like, “Yeah, like you know the part about wanting to strangle each other…that’s totally us.”  Did I forget to mention he’s a hopeless romantic? 

Ode de Zachy

Okay, I can't just get all deep without some sort of reward.  It is coming in the form of cute Zach pictures.  I need to remind myself how cute he is often because holy cow, when he comes home from preschool I CAN'T WAIT to get him in his room and away from me.  We were on a bike ride the other day and I told him that he had been talking the entire fifteen minutes to Hy-Vee.  Normally, I could just drown this out and ignore him, but he has picked up an uber annoying habit from Ben - needing affirmation after every phrase he says "Right mom, right?" Ughhhhhh... if you want to talk all day fine, but do I really have to listen?  Anyway, when I told him that he had talked the entire time, he took the last two minutes to argue that he had not actually been talking the entire time.  Loudly and insistently.  Good thing Matt and I make cute babies.  Enjoy:

 I unearthed this beauty when cleaning the other day.  It was attached to a Mother's Day card.  He was probably talking during the picture.

 Mom and Zach date. 

 First day of preschool.  He is disappointed in the fact that I only took two pictures of him.  Apparently the bare minimum number of acceptable pictures is four.  I will be sure to remember that for kindergarten.  Prima Donna.

 Zach has a "Buddy".  Buddy has been around for awhile.  Buddy was lost for about two weeks.  Maddie unearthed Buddy in the basement.  Zach was happy to see him.

This is Zach and his betrothed, Lexi.  I'm super excited to put this picture on their wedding invitation. 

Identity

WARNING:  THIS BLOG POST WAXES PHILOSOPHICAL WITH LITTLE SARCASM.  I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO ME.  I PROMISE I WILL RETURN WITH POOP STORIES AND CUTE WESLEY PICTURES SOON!

Sometimes, I stew about things for awhile and then I decide to write about them.  A little background information:  one morning a week I attend a great group that ministers to mostly stay-at-home moms with young children.  It has always been a group that I enjoyed, a lot of times simply because it gets me thinking.  (Which is good for me, albeit a bit dangerous).  The second thing going on this week:  one of my mom's good friends lost her 17-year old son in a car accident.  Tragedy always gets one thinking, eh?  Anyway, in our group a question something like this was posed:  How did you identify yourself before you were a mom? 

And sadly, my mind drew a complete blank.  Probably somewhat because having four children has done a number on my brain cells, but I think it goes deeper than that.  I started thinking big:  "Who am I without my family?"  I mean, obviously, I am a gifted writer (tongue-in-cheek people, tongue-in-cheek) but I use those talents to write about my four wonderful children and our everyday adventures.  What did I like to do before I had kids?  Going even farther back, what did I do before I met Matt?  Think about it, if you dare.  It's hard.  Which leads my heart to break even more for a mom who has recently lost her child, or anyone who has lost a child ever. 

Identity is a big thing.  It's important.  And I'm in a constant struggle to find mine.  Here's the thing:  I love my life.  I love my kids.  I love my husband.  I love my friends.  But do you ever wonder who you are when those things are taken away from you?  But, then something clicked for me (also wisdom from this group people, you should come!).  Here is who I am:  Unique.  Loved.  Forgiven.  Royal.  Eternal.  And totally and completely out of my comfort zone when writing about my faith.  But there it is.