Like Bobbies.

Motocross Babies.

My Motocross Babies.

For the longest time Kaden has referred to his big brother as Bobbies.  When he first started to call Quentin Bobbies, because he couldn’t say brother, my husband and I would try to help him say the word properly.  My sweet, stubborn son would have none of it.  “Bobbies!” he would shout back.  So…. needless to say, Bobbies is a nickname that has had some serious staying power.  Quentin doesn’t usually let anyone call him Bobbies except for his baby brother.  Kaden is now 3, and fully capable of pronouncing his brothers name, but Bobbies still sticks.  I love it.

As I was cooking dinner this evening, I heard Quentin and Kaden up to something mischievous.  Parents, you know what I’m talking about.  Sometimes you just know. For Christmas both boys received new dirt bike gear.   “Mom!” Kaden yelled from the bedroom.  “I want like Bobbies.  LIKE Bobbies!”

The boys had drug out all of gear and were suiting up, race ready. When I say race ready, I mean pants, jersey, gloves, goggles…. and Kaden was in need of assistance with his helmet to be “like Bobbies.”  Such brotherly love.  It’s clear Kaden admires his older brother, and together the two are such an unstoppable team.  Of course I helped Kaden gear up the rest of the way “like Bobbies.”  The boys sneak back to their room and imagine, with fierce and admirable intensity, they are racing the most important race of their lives.

Just another random Thursday night at our house, where we are geared up and geeked up for dirt bikes, while imaginations run wild.  I hope my babies never lose the ability to dream in color.

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Expect the Unexpected

Kaden the Sneak.

Kaden the Sneak.

Recently, I started going to hot yoga again.

I love the warmth, and cleanse, the hard work, and of course the sweat… And sweat you do in a room of 105 degrees.  The class I have been attending takes place in the evenings, so usually my sweet boys (all three, including my husband) are asleep when I get home.  One night, not so long ago, the house was an unfamiliar silent as I walked in the door after class.  I checked on my sweet family and they were all fast asleep, cuddled together in my bed.  I kissed each one and headed in to take a quick shower, still nearly drenched from class.  As I showered I cleared my head and tried to silence my usual busy mind.

Refreshed, I dried off and ever so quietly turned the bathroom door gently and slowly so as not to wake my sleeping loves.  I squinted my eyes, trying to focus in the dark room and pulled the door back towards me when….

“ROARRRRR!”

Kaden, whom was sleeping angelically prior to my shower, was standing directly at my feet.  He spastically jetted his arms up at me, fingers wide, the smile on his face even wider.

He scared me to death.  It was one of those scared kind of moments where afterwards, when you calm and realize there was nothing to be afraid of, you get instantly mad.  Needless to say he was very proud of himself, and my relaxed state of mind was no where to be found.

Now, of course, I think it’s hilarious.  Just a reminder, expect the unexpected with your babies.  You never know what mischievous plots they are strategizing in the dark….

Unwelcomed Mess.

 Every night without fail, Kaden shares a boost of energy with the family at 8 pm.  This special surprise blast of energy can go on for hours. 

My Sweet Boys

8 pm Energy

Even nights when he is tired and falling asleep earlier in the evenings, 8 o’clock hits, and he is fully alive.  He can be found jumping off the couch, wrestling with his brother (and father), rolling around on the floor, or simply throwing his legs and arms about as quickly as possible with a large smile on his face.  He’s happy, but he’s worked up.  Meanwhile the rest of us are trying to settle down for the night…. especially me.

Last night, after our usual battle to get Kaden to watch a movie and relax, George and I were trying to unwind.  Quentin and Kaden were watching “Meeemo” (our affectionate title for Nemo) in our bedroom.  “MOM!” Quentin yells.  I sighed as I cracked a smile at George, and rolled off the couch to start making my way to see what was up.  “Kaden took his diaper off!” he continued.  I picked up the pace a bit, wondering what I was in store for.

Sure enough Kaden had removed his diaper.   And not only that, but he had decided to pee — on my side of the bed.  There he sat, with the largest grin, in a puddle,  on my soiled bed.  I was tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was clean up a mess of this magnitude.  I scooped Kaden up, dressed him in a new diaper, and started in on changing my sheets. I worked to soak up the precious present as best as I could, laid down a towel and new sheets,  and put the boys to bed.

As I laid myself down to sleep later in the evening, I couldn’t help but laugh.  My frustration had subsided and I had to chuckle at the thoughts that had flooded my mind earlier amist the commotion.  Can you believe I actually considered a plastic cover for my mattress?  The kind that makes a ridiculous rustling noise when you barely move… Aside from the obvious of making sure my child keeps his diaper on….perhaps I just need to make sure Kaden prefers the other side of the bed from now on….

Fired with Timeouts?

This morning was the first day back to work after a luxurious 4 day weekend with my boys.  I was tired.  I knew the boys had to be just as tired as me as I jostled them sweetly out of bed.  “Hey mom,” my Quentin asked quizzically.  “Do you get timeouts at work if you are late?” 

“Kind of,” I responded as I rushed through our morning routine.  “And if you get a lot of timeouts do you get fired?”  he pushed. “I suppose….” I said, knowing there was more to come.  “What does fired mean?” he said with his little eyebrows raised and his head cocked to the side just so.  “Fired means I won’t have a job anymore.”  A large grin creeped across his face.  “And THEN, you can stay home with us!”  he said.

I laughed on the outside, while secretly my heart sank a bit on the inside.  “Well, yes” I said, and working to turn the tide I continued to respond with “but that would mean we wouldn’t have money for fancy toys like Beyblades…”  I thought this may sway him, but I was wrong.  He is far too clever.  “Grandma has money!  For Beyblades, and toys,” he said with a smirk.  I laughed and gave him a monstrous hug. 

That’s my boy.  Always crafting some elaborate story or solution.  I’ve got to hand it to him, he solved the problem so quickly and profoundly.  Grandma… let’s talk.  Haha!

My Little Boy. BMX Extraordinaire.

 

BMX Champ

My BMX Champ

It was a weekend full of 1sts.   The same weekend the first triple back flip was completed in BMX competition, Quentin, my delightful 4 year old, learned how to ride his pedal bike with no training wheels.  And as for me, I experienced for the first time, a different type of pride, sadness, and elation all at the same time. 

We made the last-minute decision to bring Quentin’s bike with us over to Grandma and Grandpa’s.  They have a large back yard, with a little bit of a slope to it, and a well manicured lawn.  The day was right, the conditions were right.  Quentin clasped his helmet under his chin, and walked his Spiderman bike up to the corner of the lawn.  With quite the audience staring on, Quentin took in a deep breath, and proceeded to throw his leg over his bike.  I took a ragged breath as I tried to steady the camera.  My husband leaned over to help guide Quentin on his way.

Like a champ, he did it with ease. On the first try no less, Quentin did it.  He pedaled down the hill like he was born on a bike.  My BMX extraordinaire in the making.  I jumped up and down absolutely elated.  Yet, at the same time I felt my heart sink a little bit.   My first baby, my little boy was turning into a big boy.  It’s hard to explain, but other parents out there, I know you understand exactly what I mean.  You are the most proud, and feel like you could explode with happiness.  You wish you could freeze this moment forever.  And you feel a twinge of disbelief at how fast it’s all going.

I certainly am one proud momma.  Time marches on, whether we want it to or not.  This event, like many others, serves as a reminder to cherish every moment with our loves.

Every single moment.

Do the Crank!

“The Karate Kid.”  It’s a classic.  I remember when I was a kid diligently practicing, wax on, wax off, paint the fence, sand the floor… and so on.  The legend of Danielson lives on today.  I came home from work and dropped my bags to the floor.  Quentin casually slipped off his shoes.  Kaden blitzed the front door looking for daddy.  Very intently, with pronounced purpose, Quentin walked to the center of the carpet and stood on one foot. 

“Momma, want to watch me do the crank?” 

It took me a second to understand what he meant.  The crank?  This could be interesting, I thought.  However upon closer study of his body posture, it was clear…. Quentin was ready to do the crane. “Sure!”  I said. 

Without hesitation he switch kicked his skinny legs in a rapid, spastic movement.  Nearly perfect in a mothers eyes.  Mr. Miyagi may have had a couple of improvements, but not me.  My son’s crank is absolutely perfect.

 

Can You Move That Over Here?

A couple of weekends ago I ran the Bloomsday race in Spokane… Road trip!  With the 2 boys, and a very brave friend, we journeyed by car to Spokane.  What an adventure it was!  Aside from Kaden refusing to let us eat anywhere except fast food restaurants, enjoying the view from the luxurious seats in my Tahoe, we had a blast.  I, however, in my super mom prepared state, forgot our stroller…. this meant my mom (bless her heart) would need to cart around my 2 boys throughout the race with sheer muscle.  Quentin could easily walk, although I am sure he preferred grandma to carry him. And Kaden, in order to walk anywhere with speed required carrying, like a sack of heavy potatoes.  Needless to say, before we started the race my mom was trying to kill time at the park with the boys.

Quentin was playing on some concrete construction blocks, jumping from one to another.  After careful survey of the lay of the land, he inquisitively asked grandma “Hey, can you move that one over there, over here?”  Such a simple request.  Come on grandma, cart the concrete block over to where I want it… Grandma — Quentin certainly thinks you are a superhero — it’s clear.  And so do I.

Another awesome adventure with my loves.

Oh Snaps.

This morning, like every other morning, we trudged out of the house towards the car.  I had my laptop on my back, purse on my shoulder, lunches in one hand and Kaden on my other arm (feeling more like a pack-horse than a mom).  And yes, of course I could make more than one trip out to the car, but…..I never do. Quentin, yet again, gave me the gift of an out loud belly laugh on a rushed morning.  As I carefully maneuvered towards the car in my Jessica Simpson high heels he commented about the drizzling rain.  “It’s raining again this morning” he laughed.  “Yep, it sure is” I replied breathless with a smile.  I plopped Kaden into his car seat and turned my head back just in time to see Quentin wiggle his little body, snap his fingers are cry “OHHH SNAPS!” 

I laughed out loud, and felt my heart swell.  It was the perfect unprompted moment for such a perfect little move, and the plural “s” was awesome.  I think I’ll start using that in my daily language.  Maybe in emails.  I like it.  Oh snaps.

Like Camouflage and Warts.

Camouflage

Kaden Camouflage After the Bath

A normal night at home.  Although my family’s definition of normal is quite the opposite of some, I also recognize it’s not very dissimilar from  many.  Not 5 minutes after I walked through the door from work my boys started in on the usual ruckus.  Kaden won the coveted award for the first speed bump in the evening.  George just put a fresh coat of paint on the vanity cabinets in the bathroom.  We should have known better…

Kaden did the ever so silent sneak into the bathroom and decided to make himself one with the cabinets.  Surprising how he can be so stealth at times, falling under the radar, and others…..  You should have seen the proud grin he wore as he modeled the lovely brown paint that covered the entire left side of his body.  What to do with a baby camouflaged in brown paint except plop him into the tub.

Quentin’s profound statement of the night made my stomach hurt from laughter.  You see, I have this ridiculously large blemish on my cheek.  Gorgeous.  Just beautiful I tell you.  As I felt myself melt into the couch this evening I could feel Q’s intense stare at the side of my face.  He looked very seriously concerned.  “Momma, you have a WART on your face!”  Ahhh… that’s my boy.  I can’t say as I could blame him for the assumption.  In fact it’s pretty astute.  None the less it provided me with the best belly laugh of the evening.

Thank you boys.  Nothing like creative camouflage and warts to keep my life interesting.  Our normal is awesome.

Chivalry is not Dead.

We were doing a little grocery shopping this evening with the entire family.  Kaden sat comfortably in the cart while I pushed him throughout the store, and Quentin walked proudly along holding George’s hand.  It was the usual grocery store visit and we wandered casually through the aisles.  I was deep in conversation with Kaden, and George was retrieving the milk from the refrigerator when nearly at the same time we both turned our heads to follow Quentin as he ran up to an approaching cart.  Sitting in the arriving cart (which may as well have been a princess carriage) was a gorgeous little Hispanic girl, most likely about 2 years old.  Before George or I could get anything out of mouths Quentin proved he is a fairy tale prince in training.

He valiantly scooped up the little girl’s available wrist and proceeded to kiss her ever so gently on the back of her hand!  I was stunned.  George was stunned.  In fact, I think we both sat there with our mouths open in a stupor.  The lady who accompanied the little girl smiled, but I think she was stunned.  We pulled Quentin back to the cart and walked the long aisle in silence.  When we turned the corner, we had a quick talk about that type of interaction with strangers.  I kicked George in the heels “Did you teach him that?” I said with a grin.  He just shook his head.  But for all of you out there who wondered, chivalry is not dead!  Watch out ladies….