No is an Answer

Dr. M looks at us and smiles, "Okay. Height, weight all good and in the 90th percentile. Eyesight excellent. Hearing excellent..."

"Really?" Hubby and I say together in surprise.

"Yup. He's just got a case of selective hearing. Very common I find." Dr. M smiles and turns back to Holy Terror sitting on the exam table.

She goes through the usual physical. Thyroids, joints, ears, belly, and so on. There's a bit of awkwardness with the...well, you parents of boys know that part...

Still reeling from this bit of "weirdness" Dr. M has him stand up and plant his feet, then stands behind him and says, "Okay, now bend over and touch your toes."

"No," Holy Terror gives his - very successful - icy stare and steps away to face her.

"I just have to check your spine."

"No." He's got his shoulders stiffened and looks ready to defend his boundary at any further provocation.

I've been through this before with my oldest and am trying very hard not to burst into laughter. My husband's eyes are gleaming with amusement.

Hubby takes the lead and leans towards Holy Terror, man-to-man like. "Dr. M just needs to see if your spine's straight, Buddy."

"No." It's all very black-and-white, no nonsense here. No.

"Okay. No pressure. What about I see if the ear flusher is ready and come back?" Dr. M gives me a smile over Holy Terror's head and starts to step out. She's been with us since the first and is completely amazing.

I have Hubby hand me Holy Terror's pants. I hold them out to him. "What if we have your pants on? Then will you let her see your back?"

He stares at the pants for a moment and then nods. "Ok."

Now, if he'd still said no...

Worthy Foes

Stepping out of the kitchen I am confronted with two worthy foes. They are ready with fighting stances and hands ready for karate-choppin.

Toddler Fung Fu is on!

I jump twirl with a low kick to the Mighty Holy Terror and he goes down. I land with a tickle chop to the Super Wy, who runs to gather defense.

Holy Terror rolls and rises, rocking from foot-to-foot, his hands slowly circling. It's a distraction technique and works. Super Wy has snuck up and slaps my rear with the dangerous ninja sword of plastic. Holy Terror jumps and kicks my lower leg and does some quick punches to my belly.

I down. I am defeated. The two ninjas fly into the mists of the Eastern Norris Land...

Stalking Prey

The wild "Big Brother" rests on the Oasis of the couch. From around the bend peeks our two hunters Holy Terror and Super Wy.

They are in fine form, wearing the camouflage of backwards pants. In solidarity, neither wears the restricting item rumored to be called a shirt.

Our more experienced hunter, Holy Terror, takes the lead with Super Wy following close behind. Creeping slowly towards the Oasis Couch the two descend on the wild "Big Brother". I can see victory glittering in their eyes.

The "Big Brother" rests, unaware of the looming danger.

Closer. Closer. Closer.

POUNCE!

"What the heck?" growls the "Big Brother".

The hunters latch on, screaming, giggling, and yelling the success of their catch.

But wait! The "Big Brother" is a wily creature with experience and resources. He rises from the mauling, little hunters clinging to him. Super Wy around his neck. Holy Terror on his thigh. He lets lose a threat of revenge, drags himself to the open space of the Front Room Sahara, and activate his defense.

Reaching back, he grabs Super Wy by the leg and swings him around, upside down, and tosses him onto the ground. Holy Terror screeches with the awareness he is next. "Big Brother" shakes him free from his leg then attacks with the all famous tickle move.

The hunt is lost to our little warriors...but there is always next time.

Patience is a Virtue Holy Terror Does Not Contain

Sunday Morning. Just awake, Parkour Boy stumbles into the kitchen in search of food. Holy Terror has been in watch for him for almost two hours, and pounces.

“Billy, let’s play Star Wars Lego game!” He hops from foot to foot, looking up at him with big, round blue eyes.

Parkour Boy grabs the cereal and heads to get the bowl. “I gotta eat first, Buddy.”

“Let’s play now! Come on, Billy,” Holy Terror begs, doing a light tapping stomp.

“No, I gotta eat first.” Parkour Boy grumbles, sitting down at the breakfast table.

Holy Terror runs over to me, very upset. “Billy said we couldn’t play video games!”

“Give him a moment to wake up and eat.”

“But he said no!”

“I didn’t say no. I gotta eat first,” Billy clarifies through a mouth full of Fruit Loops.

“Moooommmmm!” Brenny wails.

“You’ll play when he’s done eating.” I look down at his cute, yet distressed, little face. “Be patient.”

Holy Terror shakes his whole body in a convulsing motion. “I can’t be patient!”

…Don’t I know it…that was like asking a whale to walk.

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.