Boys, Boys, Boys...

By the end of the weekend I was ready for work. For those of you who know me, this is unusual. I enjoy my time with my family and especially my kids. It is no small feat to exhaust me of my "home time"

Well, they did it!

I walked into work this morning, sat in my office chair, and sighed with relief. The thoughts of two little boys sugared up on stolen cake from the frig and two gripey teenagers who'd had little sleep over the holidays danced in my head, threatening to re energize my headache.

The boys - all three - were the worst. Well, not worst, just most active in the exhaustion assault. Why do they have to be so hyper, aggressive, and...and...crazy?! I asked myself. They wouldn't sit still, they wrestled constantly, they jumped off coffee tables, tried to dance on the table (little boys, not the teenager), and mostly were just loud and wild.

As I sat and got started with my work a coworker (and friend) called. She grew up with only a sister and her mother in the house. Her phone call consisted of wondering the same thoughts I was thinking that morning but regarding her own son. She couldn't understand why he wanted to try and wrestle with his sister or get loud and crazy while playing video games.

I laughed and said, "Oh that's just boys for you. That's how they are. I grew up with all male cousins and as a tomboy roughed around with my brother and them."

We sat and I gave her advice on handling and living through the wild life of raising a boy. Things she never realized that happened with a boy in the house. We hung up and I felt good being able to help a friend...

....then I smacked my forehead and laughed. I probably should've given myself the same pep talk last night or this morning.

I guess even moms who were raised around boys and have three boys can forget what patience it takes to live with them.

Motherhood

Motherhood is the most importat thing I'll ever do. I made a vow four times over and the commitment is for life. Each time I made the promise to the growing human inside of me, I was a different person.

The very first time I wasn't even a woman. In every essence I was still a girl, just coming into womanhood. That first time becoming a guardian of a soul I was frightened beyond belief. The fear of not only motherhood, but also of adulthood. In many ways I grew up with my first. During his "belly time" I took classes upon classes, read books, and interrogated my physician. I studied for the biggest test of my life.

Then when he came along, in his own sweet time, we went through the wild ride as partners. We took each new step together. Me with false brovado, protecting him from the monsters of the world.

By the time my fourth promise was made, I was an experienced warrior mama. I was no less frightened. The difference? I knew my foes and my fears were in knowing them. My sword of motherhood was well worn but no less sharp.

My older children complain a lot that I raise the younger two different. In many ways they are right. This is due to knowing my battlefield. The older two were hardly out of my sight, and I jumped at every potential danger. Holy Terror was born 10 years after my first two. They are allowed more mistakes and breathing room, because I know where the actual danger line is laid.

I just hope the older two realize that even though my tactics are different, my love is not. My bond with them is connected in a way that the younger two will never know. Just as my experience towards the younger is something the older two will never quite know.

There is no right answer to mothering. The stakes are so high and each soul is so different. A mother just has to make the vow and leap in with her weapons ready. Those weapons are knowledge, committment, hope, and most importantly love. Everything else can and should be forgiven when the child becomes the parent.

But what do I know...ask me in a couple generations and I'll let you know how they turned out.

Birthday Fun Facts

Word is leaking out...today is my birthday. As many of you know, I'm kinda neutral about "the day" (30th year set aside and best forgotten). So, instead of blathering about my age, the dang effects of gravity on my body, and the looming expiration date...I wanted to have fun with it.

I found a site that listed some really great fun birthday facts. Here are my top ten favorites from the list:

• More people celebrate their birthdays in August than in any other month (about 9% of all people). The two other months that rate high for birthdays are July and September.
• A recent survey suggests that more people are born on October 5 in the United States than any other day. October 5 holds a not-so-surprising significance, as conception would have fallen on New Year's Eve.
• The least common birth date in the U.S. is May 22nd.
• Since your last birthday 31,536,000 seconds have passed.
• In the past year your hair will most likely have grown 12 cm and your nail about 4 cm.
• Your heart beats at a rate of around of 72 to 80 beats per minute - since your last birthday it will have beat about 42,075,900 times.
• You breath at a rate of about 30 breaths per minute so, since your last birthday you have taken approximately 15,768,000 breaths.
• The volume of blood in your body is approximately 5 litres. The heart pumps about 280 litres of blood around your body every hour - that’s 2,688,000 litres per year!
• The average garden snail (not one that has entered the Olympics 100 meters race) moves at around 0.03 mph. If one set out on your last birthday, and walked non-stop it would have traveled 263 miles. If you walked this distance non-stop you would complete it in around three days.
• World population has grown by around 76,570,430 since your last birthday. In the time it takes you to read this another five babies will have been born.

To see the full list visit the Tokenz site. I have been so blessed with a great life, great family, and great friends. I hope you all have a great day, I know I will with my new book the hubby and kids got me.

Thank you guys!

Thanksgiving

The heat of summer starts to cool. Blooms birthed in spring begin to die. Days shorten. There's a sharpness to the air that tells of Mother Earth closing shop to sleep for the winter.

Families migrate their activities in doors. The BBQ is packed away and the oven becomes the star once again with homey recipes of stews and casseroles.

Everything about autumn identifies with heart, home, and love. This is the perfect time to give thanks for everything you've been blessed with in life. Whether it's being able to provide for your family in the hard times of today. Or the family and friends that make up your circle of life. It's also a great time to miss and remember those who are no longer physically here.

Fall is the perfect setting for Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving asks nothing from you other than to be with the ones who care and love you. They may not understand you, but they'll accept you as you.

You go. You bring a dish. That's it, that's the minimum requirement. How hard is that? How demanding? And what do you get in return? A day with your family and friends, laughing and hugging, eating and drinking, sometimes a few sentimental tears...and remembering.

Remembering there's more to life than work, pay, and success. Remembering that 90% of your stresses are umimportant in the big picture.

It always goes too fast for me. There is so much that I get only glimpses of moments to retain. children's giggles, laughing snorts, traditional "incident" stories, mash potato smiles, messy pie faces, the many times of "I love you". There's also the hug and a cry over Grandpa Norris. A sadness of my brother and his kids who are too far away. Regret that kids are just a little big bigger and there's no stopping or slowing the process.

No, Thanksgiving asks for nothing more than to remember. Remember who you are, where you came from, and with who you're traveling through life.

So happy Thanksgiving to all our family and friends. Please remember you are loved and needed and we look forward to the lifetime journey together.

Just Gotta Dance

(Replay of My Yesterday)

I walk the last block and reach my house. Opening the door I enter not the Norris Ranch, but the Norris Rave Club. The music is bumping from the computer speakers, the little boys are dancing in the front room, and the older kids are clapping and urging them on.

Oh yeah...this is what I'm talking about!

I drop my pack, kick off my shoes, and get down. I have Parkour Boy turn up the music a little more (it can never be too loud). The little boys and I alternate who decides the dance moves. Then we get to some freestyle. As the crescendo, we do a little spotlighting.

Holy Terror starts it off with a little arm wave action, moving into some righteous robot frames, and ends with a body wiggling belly dive. Oh yeah, he rocks!

Super Wy starts with a body wiggle, leading into a half jumping twist, a couple ninja kicks, ending with something akin to the splits but not as...painful looking. Whoot Super Wy!

Okay, it's on like Donkey Kong. I can't be out shined by these little squirts. Time to bring the smack down. I start with a little sprinkler, transitioning into a link arm wave combined with a hula hoop motion, ending with a nose plug wiggle drop.

It was so close...we decided to call it a draw.

A Quiet House

A quiet house...

There are days when I dream of a quiet house. On those days where the two teenagers bicker over nothing, complain about chores, or slam the door. Or those days the little boys have dumped a pitcher of dirt into the dogs water bowl, then threw a blanket over the fence to the farm behind our house, then headed off and threw eggs on the backyard cement.

Usually, these are the same days where work was bad, the drive/walk home slow, or the hubby and I grouchy.

But then the house is quiet, like tonight. I've tucked the little boys in their not so clean room (I relinquished the battle to win the war). I've signed all the last minute school papers the teenagers forgot to give me after school. The dogs are fed and laid in their doggy beds.

The house is quiet.

And I am sad. I realize that soon, the house won't only be quiet just after bedtime. The house will become quiet all the time. I will arrive home, not to the little boys trying to ride the dogs like horse. Not to the older kids telling me about a fart in class, or a silly shirt the teacher wore.

No, one day...not very far away. I will come home and the house will already be quiet. Empty of the energy and life children bring. Void of the laughter and chaos they wreak.

For today, at this moment, I will not wish for a quiet house. Instead, I will wish for more time. It's a scientific impossibility. I know. But maybe, just maybe...if I pause what I'm doing and watch more, listen more, interact more. Then maybe it'll almost be like I slowed down time.

I think I might give it a try...no harm in that.

Things Parents Say During a Week...

I thought I'd dedicate today's post on the things parents say during an average week. These are the ones hubby and I compiled from this last week.

1. Stop jumping off the coffee table
2. Quit pushing your brother with the tiger
3. Shut the back door
4. Stop throwing your stuffed animals into the ceiling fan
5. The toilet is not a swimming pool for your action figures
6. You are making me crazy
7. Flush the toilet
8. Shut the back door!
9. Those are your brother's marbles and he doesn't want them lost
10. It is not going to kill you
11. Quit that
12. Stop it
13. SHUT THE BACK DOOR!
14. Because I said so
15. Are you listening?
16. This is the third time....
17. I swear, if you do that one more time
18. You call this clean?
19. SHUT....THE....BACK...DOOR!!!

and the thing we said the most this week?