No Picture Necessary, Buck the ....

I failed.  Again.  It is the second year in a row that I didn’t take pictures of my children on Halloween in their costumes.  And I have realized why I have neglected to snap pictures of them in their Halloween costumes.

Simply because it is not out of the ordinary for my children to dress up as something outlandish and leave the house.  It is just part of their personalities and it has always been accepted.  Chase has been known to wear a construction vest to school and strut blue hair.  (For real, I woke up from a nap one weekend to find Chase with blue hair- and this was a few days before school pictures this year).    

And let’s be honest.  Ryder lives his everyday life as a ninja turtle- I don’t need to capture the moment on one specific evening.

I don’t think Chase will ever ask why I don’t have a picture of him as an 8 year old on Halloween, but I do think he will remember the Halloween themed dinner we had.  He will remember the Jack-O-Lantern pizza, the paw shaped cheese puffs and the orange pop he got to feast on that night. I think he will remember how he went to grandma and grandpa’s after trick-or-treating for hot chocolate and to pass candy out to other kids.  And if he doesn’t remember those specific things, I think he will remember the feeling of togetherness because, even though we don’t have a picture to prove it, we spent Halloween with people we love.

And for right now, that’s enough.   No picture necessary.

On a side note:  As we were at a trunk or treating event, the kids hopped in line with other kids to ask for tricks and treats and the adults stood to the side chatting. After awhile I noticed that the line was being held up by Ryder so I went to investigate.  Apparently, Ryder hid his fart gun in the bottom of his candy bucket and was showing a group of elderly gentlemen how to make farting noises.  That kid sure knows how to keep it classy… or gassy.   (Sorry, I couldn’t resist the rhyme.  Speaking of rhymes.  Ryder has discovered a rhyming word for the dog.  Can anyone guess what rhymes with Buck?  Can anyone else guess which Mom isn’t proud when she has to tell her 3 year old to stop yelling for “Buck the F*ck” when we go for walks?)    

Magical Dog, Drunk Jayme

As many of you know, we welcomed a sweet little 4 pound dog into our family.  The boys named him Buckwheat, or Buck for short. Buck has added a lot of joy to our family.  (I feel like if I say it enough, Cory will start to believe it.)  Well, Joy, and poop, and pee, and chewed up shoes.  But despite potty training, he has been a great addition to our family. 

Here are the boys with Buck.

And for the most part, the boys have been wonderful with him.  Except for a few occasions when Ryder has sneakily shown Buck who is boss. Anyone who knows Ryder, knows that he doesn’t like anything that takes away from him being the star of the show. For real, he hates babies with a passion because they tend to get more attention than him (and this is verbatim out of Ryder’s mouth, “I hate stupid babies; they are useless.”  I mean, he is not necessarily wrong.). 

My parents, the boys and I were at the park the first week we got Buck. I was chatting with my parents and said, “I’m proud of Ryder.  He is really being nice to Buck.”  And before I could say anything else, we see Buck flying down the slide.  Ryder was sure that Buck needed some assistance going down the slide.

The boys and I rode our bikes to school one day.  I had Ryder in a bike cart attached to the back of my bike.  He gets to be zipped inside a nice bug repellent screen while I peddle my heart out trying to keep up with Chase.  For our ride, I placed Buck in the back with Ryder.  I gave Buck a bone to keep him busy, buckled in Ryder and zipped the screen shut.  About halfway to Chase’s school I hear Ryder’s scowling voice say, “Buck you are disgusting, you got your bone all over my coat.”  A minute later I see Buck trotting alongside my bike.  I stopped quickly, picked up the dog and asked Ryder if he unzipped the screen and pushed Buck out of the cart.  Ryder just looked at me with a smile on his face and stated, “It was magic,” while shrugging his pointy little shoulders.  

In Ryder’s defense, I would be a tad bit annoyed of the dog too if the dog kept biting onto the butt of my pants and pulling my pants down to my ankles, causing me to trip at least twice a day.  (But since I’m not Ryder, it is HILARIOUS and I do absolutely nothing to correct the situation).

On a completely unrelated note, our family attended my cousin’s very beautiful wedding this past weekend.  When my sister and I get around our cousins we all tend to go, for a lack of better words, “Balls to the walls” with shots. You know, for one evening pretend to be a 21 year old college student without children and a mountain of debt and responsibilities. And plus, I mean, who can turn down top shelf tequila at an open bar? (For the record- not me.) Usually, my cousins and I greet each other by saying things similar to, “Are you ready for a shot?” or “I brought the good tequila.” 

My handsome boys at the wedding.

So there we were, standing in a circle in front of the open bar doing shots, when Chase walks by and casually says to me, “Hey Drunk Jayme,” while he’s sucking on a stick of rock candy from the candy bar.  All I could think to respond was, “First of all- you can call me Mom, not Jayme.  And second of all, I am not that drunk yet.”  Then afterwards I realized I could have gone another way with the situation and not done a butt-load of shots, but that isn’t really my style.

(Oh calm down- don’t call Child Protective Services- my kids were safe and had a Dad there who is completely capable to caring for them. Well, not their Dad (because he also likes to go "balls to the walls" but my Dad was there.)

Relationship Growth

Cory- we have been married for 10 years.  Can you believe it?  We have been married as long as Grindr has been around.  Do you think things would have gone differently in our relationship if Grindr was created before we started dating? Any who…

We have both changed a lot since the start of our relationship and I like to think that our relationship has experienced some growth over the years.  Here is how I can tell:

-I no longer feel the need to sucker punch you in the face when you fall asleep first and you snore like a sumo wrestler. #smotherhimwithapillow

-Our relationship has evolved so much that we no longer play the endless game of, “Oh, are you going to make supper? Oh, I thought you were going to make supper.” You know, because we always know it’s me.  

-We know how to console each other when our children unknowingly rip us apart.  You know, like how you reassure me that I’m not actually a bad person when our 3 year old tells me that I’m “terrible and rude” over and over and over again, every day.   And how you tell me that I do look nice when our 8 year old asks me under his breath, “Oh, is that what you are wearing today?” #unitedwestand

-And, lastly, I no longer want to rip out your eyeballs when you drink all night after your old man softball league and accidentally forget to call to kindly let me know that you won’t be available to help at bedtime. (Just kidding on this one.  There definitely has been zero growth for either of us on this topic. You never call and I never refrain from getting annoyed.)

If this isn’t a thriving relationship, I don’t know what is.

Happy Anniversary!

"I'm Doing A Trump."

Let me pre-warn you that this story dips a toe into the political pool (but from the point of view of a child). 

Our household is made up of two parents who belong to different political parties and live in harmony (just kidding about the harmony- we discuss politics frequently and know how to trigger each other when it comes to politics- so our trigger fingers are often sore from being overworked. It's a mystery how we have been married for almost a decade.)  

But, on a positive note, due to our differing stances on politics and how the world should work, our children are exposed to different ends of the spectrum.  Hopefully, this is laying the groundwork for them to independently decide what they believe and allows them to talk about it openly. 

This morning I was helping Chase finish his homework (that was due today of course, because that is how Chase rolls.  He forgets his homework at school and realizes at 7pm when he is getting ready for bed and then we end up doing homework at his desk in his classroom minutes before recess starts).  

Any who, Chase started to write a word but in the process, he messed up on one of the letters.  Since he messed up on it, he just continued to make that particular letter a jumbled mess, making it so you couldn't even tell what letter it was supposed to be.  

I asked, “What are you doing?” 

He replied, “I’m doing a Trump.”  

Of course this peaked my interested so I inquired further, “What does that mean?” 

He responded, “You know how when Trump does something wrong, and then just keeps doing the same thing wrong over and over and then maybe someone will think it’s right? That’s what I did.”  
Me: “Erase it and start over.”  

This isn't the first time my child has nonchalantly criticized the President. (Did you notice that I capitalized the word, "President" to show some sort of respect? (That was big of me, wasn't it?!  I really am becoming an adult.) 

Flashback to a blog 2 years ago:

"As we were walking out of the grocery store Chase was trying to open his container of tic-tacs not paying attention and he walked directly into the sliding glass doors.  And I don’t mean he tapped into it.  He smacked the glass, hard.  Like there were grease marks from his face on the glass (Side note: my child may be in need of “hygiene night” according to his body outline that was smeared onto the glass).  

As my child pried himself off of the glass door, he took a step back, shook his head, looked me directly in the eyes and said, “Wow, that must be how Trump feels. You know, because he’s a loser.” "

Through the eyes of a babe will we change the future. 

On an completely unrelated note- Ryder was having a rough morning.
Ryder: "Mom, I fell off of my bike."
Me: "I see that." 

One Week,Two Embarrassed Parents,Three Penis Stories

You may wonder why a parent would have so many penis stores from just one week.  Well, that is because I am the parent to Ryder.  I’m pretty sure the definition of Ryder is: A child who is pleased with his body.

1.      So the other evening Ryder took a bath.  When he takes a bath, I put a little standing mirror next to the bathtub (Yes, I understand how creepy it sounds when you say it out loud.) because he likes to paint himself with kid’s soapy bathtub paint and likes to look at himself as he puts soap in his hair and lathers up.  So here we are, midway through his bath.  I was in the closet that is attached to our bathroom as Ryder is playing in the bathtub.  And out of the silence I hear (in a full on- Homer Simpson voice), “Oh man, that’s a big penis,” as he is looking at his man jewels from all different angles in the bathtub.  If nothing else, I am raising a child who is very body positive. 

2.   Last weekend we were getting our taxes done.  There was a waiting room full of adults.  Ryder asked me to accompany him to the bathroom, in which I agreed.  He did his business, we washed our hands and headed down the long hallway back to the waiting room.  As we entered the crowded room, Ryder yells, “Stop! We have to see if my penis fell out.”  And we walked directly out to our car bypassing the room full of laughter.

3.      Today, Ryder and I were hanging out in my room. He was watching a cartoon and I was reading.  All of a sudden Ryder stands up, naked with three candy smarties stuck to his man jewels.  And he asks, “want a snack?” as he shook the smarties off.

Of course, I want a snack, but not one that was fastened to your penis with sweat. (Also, I don’t know why he was naked or where he got smarties.)

Ryder, being Ryder.