Meanie Head Teenager

Teenagers are meanie heads.

My oldest son just turned 13 a couple of weeks ago.  He is barely even a teenager, but I have decided that I am not fond of this new teenage attitude that tends to accompany teenagers and their raging hormones.

He has always been so pleasant, calm, compliant, loving, and just plain peaceful.  He has always been the peace maker between his younger brothers.

Recently, he has become snippy, moody, emotional, and seems irritated by the smallest things. 

He still has great qualities, but this sudden change in his personality is rather frustrating.  I have a feeling that this whole gang is acting much the same way.....

These are his 13 year old, hormonal, emotional buddies. 

I bet they have become meanie heads, too.

This morning, after I finished getting ready for school, I noticed Tucker was already dressed and ready.  He was sitting on the stool at our kitchen counter with his back turned to me.  He was doing something with either his cell phone or IPOD.

I came up behind him and wrapped my arms around him and kissed him on the top of the head.

Instead of reciprocating my affection, he retorted in a disgusted tone....

"What are you doing?"

As if I was violating some sort of teenage unwritten rule.

I replied....

"I am just giving you some love.  Geez."

He said,

"Well, STOP!"

What a meanie head.

Shared Birthdays Were Best

Today would have been my PawPaw Curt's 88th birthday.  My 36th birthday is in 3 days.  Growing up, we always celebrated together.  We shared  34 birthdays together. We shared a birthday bond.  It was just another thing about my PawPaw that made him special to me.

First birthday.....

 2nd.....

 3rd......

4th birthday.....

5th.................

6th birthday.......

7th............

8th...........

9th.............

And when I turned 10, I started having big parties with my friends.  But that didn't stop my Paw-Paw from being a part of it.  He may not have been with me as the center of attention, but he was there.  In the shadows.

Nowadays, birthdays pass like most other days of the year. There isn't usually a cake or gifts. Most of the time, I have to do the math to even remember how old I am.  We don't do big parties anymore.  They just aren't as important when you are a Mom.  And PawPaw Curt isn't here to celebrate with me anymore. 

The birthdays shared with him were better.

I miss him.

Who Dares to Challenge Me?

Imagination is not dead. I fear that our young children are losing their ability to play make-believe, but the art isn't dead yet. I see it first hand at my house every day with my boys. Many children are so caught up in video games, cell phones, computers, and television that they don't take the time to play anymore....real play. The kind of play that I did when I was a child. Thankfully, my own children still play.

I was sitting in my chair earlier today when a hand-made red and blue "sword" was put inches from my face.

"Who dares to challenge me?", says Carter.

"Not me!"

  And off he scurries making imaginary sword sounds... ching, ching, zing.....slaying his imaginary foe.

 

He had created his own sword using pipe cleaners and a small dowel rod.

He also made his own cape with a piece of cloth, safety pins, a stapler, and a piece of paper decorated with a super hero sign. 

He continued this battle for quite a while and I didn't notice he had disappeared, until a sword with upgrades was thrust into my face.

"Whooosh!.....I just froze you with ice! See the ice on the end of my sword?"

 

I am happy to live in the age of technology.  If I didn't, then I would have to chronicle all these cute things my boys do on in an old fashioned diary with a pen.  Instead, I can write about it instantly and include photos so that I will never forget.  But, I hope the age of technology doesn't kill our children's imaginations.  Life would be sad without dreams and imaginations.

Play on, Carter, play on.

The Last First Tooth

Carter pulled his first tooth today. *Sigh*.  When Tucker and Sawyer did this, I was so darn thrilled.  It  IS exciting, don't get me wrong.  It's just different with your last child.  He was brave.  Didn't even flinch when it was pulled.  Me, however.....I had a lump in my throat the size of Texas.  The whole time I was choking back the tears thinking, "This is silly!  It's just a tooth."  But now that I have lovingly tucked him away into his bed for the night, I have had time to think about the events of the last few days with Carter.  Thinking late at night does not do well for my emotions.  I honestly am not an emotional person, but those kids of mine sure can tug at my heart.  I think the issue is that I love having children so much, that I can see that their childhood is too temporary.  I can't stand the thoughts of it ending.  So, as I sit here late at night....not being emotional.....I think back over Carter's last few days.
        Earlier in the week, Carter tossed his beloved blanket to the side of his bed and said, almost with disgust, "I don't want that anymore."  This blanket has been a favorite of his, just as Sawyer had his VERY special blanket and Tucker had his pillow.  Each child at some point became ready to put the special item away....never to be thought of again.  This week, Carter was ready.  It laid untouched on his bed, pushed into the corner for 4 days.  I thought he would pull it back out, but he didn't.  On the 5th day, he said, "I don't want this!  When can I put it up in the box of special things?".  I told him that he could put it up whenever he got ready.  He grabbed the blanket and skipped to my bedroom, placing his blankie inside.  It hasn't been mentioned by him since.
       Yesterday, I was standing in the kitchen and Carter grabbed me around the legs and gave me a squeeze.  I asked, "Are you needing some loving?"  He said, "Yep!" and jumped up into my arms and wrapped his legs around me.  He laid his head on my shoulder and I rubbed him on the back.  I smelled his little boy smell and squeezed him even tighter.  I asked him, "How many more years will you be jumping up into my arms like this?"  Carter said, "In 6th grade, I will be too tall."  I asked, "Well, then what about in 5th grade?"  He said, "Too big." I said, "4th grade?"  Carter said, "Nope.  I will be too big for you in 3rd and 4th.".  Then, hanging on to hope, I asked, "Ok, then what about in 2nd grade?  Will you jump into my arms then?"  Carter said, "Maybe I still will in 2nd.".  So, with a smile, I gave him another squeeze and he scurried off to play.  I have only couple of years left of those moments, then those too will pass.  He will be "too big, too tall, or too cool" to jump into my arms.
       And then we get to today.  The tooth.  Maybe it was just the icing on the cake, but it was almost too much to bear.  It was the last time one of my boys will pull their first tooth.  Sure, there will be other teeth to pull, but none are quite like the first.  Many of the firsts at our house are over.
     A favorite book of mine definitely comes to mind tonight as I sit here writing this blog not being emotional .  I stumbled across this book years ago and it has really changed the way I look at things with the boys growing up.  The book is called Let Me Hold You Longer by Karen Kingsbury.  Part of the note from the author in the front of the book says this:
         "We spend our children's days celebrating the firsts. First step. First tooth. First words. First day of kindergarten, first homecoming dance, first time behind the wheel. But somehow, along the way, we miss their lasts.  There are no photographs or parties when a child takes his last nap or catches tadpoles for the last time. For the most part, it's impossible to know when a last moment actually occurs.  Nothing signals a mother to stop and notice the last time her little boy runs and jumps into her arms.  If I'd known it was the last time, Would I have held on longer?"




As Carter climbed into his bed tonight, he was toothless and without his blankie.  I couldn't help but to kiss him and hug him and hold on a little longer than usual.

I can't believe he packed up his blankie

I have always been observant of small children. Noticing how they act, what they wear, their smile, their eyes, the likeness they are to their parents, their activity level, and their security items. I have seen kids with special dolls, pillows, blankets, diaper cloths, their mother's slips, beanie babies, and on and on. I never really quite understood why some kids wagged around some ratty old item with them wherever they went. That is, until I had children of my own. I am the mother of three perfectly well adjusted, secure boys who all three have had an attachment to a "security item." Tucker, being my oldest, was attached first to a small pillow. It was placed in his crib as an infant, mostly just because it was cute. It was covered in yellow John Deere fabric and was floppy and soft. He always slept with it in his crib and it didn't take long for the attachment to it to begin. I remember the first time as a young infant that I noticed he was using it as a "security blanket". I picked him up from his crib and he lurched toward his bed. I thought he was falling or playing a game, but he was reaching for his pillow. From that point on, everywhere Tucker went, his pillow was sure to be with him. In his cute "toddler talk" he named his pillow "Paa-buh". As preschool days approached, we had to make a rule that the pillow had to start staying at home. I convinced Tucker that if his pillow went to school with him, that he may lose it or his friends might love it and want to keep it. He was not a fan of the idea of sharing his pillow, so he agreed to leave it at home. After that, the pillow became his bed buddy. It stayed in his bed until time to go to sleep. As Tucker got older, the pillow kind of just became another pillow in his bed, until one day, he didn't need his pillow at all. Tucker put the pillow safely in our hope chest, where we keep special things, and told me that he didn't really want it anymore. He was in the third grade. I still remember the sinking feeling in my chest.

Sawyer was born just before Tucker's 4th birthday. I never thought about Sawyer becoming attached to special item like Tucker was. It wasn't long, though before Sawyer too became attached. As a very small baby, Sawyer liked to play with the strings and tags on his blankets, wrapping his fingers around the fringe of carpets and lacing his fingers through frayed towels. He started showing a huge preference to this huge blanket that we kept on our couch that had fringed edges. He wanted to drag it around the house and take it with him when we left the house. Seeing his attachment to the fringed blanket grow, I realized quickly that the gigantic blanket would become burdensome because of it's size. I enlisted Nana to create a baby blanket sized one for Sawyer that would be more portable. Nana was happy to make this creation for Sawyer, so off we went to the fabric store. Knowing that Sawyer specifically loved to play with the fringe on the big blanket, but not knowing exactly which fringe he liked the best, we carried him to let him pick out his own.

   Sawyer was still less than a year old, so we were just looking for something that might spark a reaction or that he may seem excited about. The fabric store had a full section with rows of fringe. Oh, we got a reaction alright! He was in fringe loving heaven! We couldn't decide which fringe he liked the most. The end result was a soft green baby blanket, cut in half, edged in a variety of different styles of fringe. This blanket immediately became Sawyer's favorite treasure.

His blanket was in his hands everywhere he went. The blanket went on vacation with us to Disney World, Texas, Kentucky, and Ohio. It has been tucked into suitcases. It has been stuffed next to Sawyer in strollers. The blanket has gone to restaurants and movies. It has been left in the back of the Cozy Coupe Car, fallen behind the bed frame, tucked into a toybox, and left in a wagon only to finally be discovered after hours of searching. It has been patched up, resewn, and washed countless times. A normal bath for the blanket occurred when Sawyer was occupied with another activity and it could be snuck into the washing machine without him noticing. Many, many times Sawyer could be found in front of the dryer door waiting for the dryer to buzz alerting him that his blanket was all clean and ready. Some evenings, the blanket would get forgotten in the washing machine and put into the dryer too late. Bedtime would come and the blanket would still be wet. The tears would flow until the blanket was lovingly tucked into Sawyer's arms again. I recall on more than one occasion racing Bradley to the dryer when we heard the buzzing sound because we both wanted the satisfaction of giving Sawyer back his clean blanket and seing the happy smile on his face. He would pour out love and hugs to whomever gave him back his favorite blanket.

During a prenatal Dr's visit when I was pregnant with Carter, Sawyer was tagging along carrying his beloved blanket. The blanket accidentally got left at the doctor's office. The office was called trying to retrieve it. Also contacted was the cleaning staff, the head office, patient information and any other person we might could speak with. The blanket was never recovered. Two very sad days followed until Nana created an exact replica of the blanket. You have never witnessed such a joyful toddler! For weeks after that, the blanket could not be pryed from his hands. I even carried him to a monogram shop to have his name put on it, in case he ever lost it again, it would be easier to reclaim it. The owner of the shop insisted that it would take her overnight to add his name, until she too witnessed the attachment. She promptly turned his nameless blanket to a blanket proudly displaying the name "Sawyer" on it. She couldn't bear to make him wait.

During Sawyer's baby and toddler years, his blanket became an extention of him. It was just a part of him. Preschool days were lurking during the summer Sawyer was 3. I knew that I would have to explain to Sawyer that his blanket couldn't go with him to preschool. I envisioned this conversation being infinitely more difficult for Sawyer than it was for Tucker. At first, the rule was a little more lax than with Tucker. The blanket just couldn't go to preschool. It was still allowed to travel in the car, go to Nana's, and be played anywhere else he liked. The transition wasn't too bad. He too was convinced by the idea that he might have to share it if he carried to to preschool.

As time passed by, the blanket began to be left in the bed more often than not. It was always there when he got ready to go to sleep, but by the time he started big school, he no longer played with it or needed it outside of night time. He spent the night with his friends a couple of times, and he still packed up his little blanket into his suitcase so that he could get it out at bedtime, until this last time. I wish I had known when I tucked him in the bed that night that it would be the last night he spent snuggled up with his blanket. I would have soaked it all in. I would have watched him sleep and watched his fingers wrap around the fringe for the last time. I would have grasped onto the last moment of his babyhood. Instead, the night passed like any other. I gave him a goodnight kiss and tucked in his covers with his little blanket by his side. The next morning the two of us worked together to pack his suitcase to go to his friends house. He excitedly chose his pajamas and clothes and tucked them into their place in the suitcase. I grabbed his blanket and pitched it in on top of his other things, as I have done other times before. He nonchalantly picked his blanket up and said, as if it were no bid deal, "I don't need this anymore. I'm gonna put it in that special box." And off he went, leaving me standing with my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes, stading in a wake of emotions. It has been a week since the blanket was tucked into the box. I half hoped he would go get it back out later. I still can't believe he packed up his blankie. I guess at this point, I need his security blanket more than he did.

The chest is now closed with the pillow and blanket inside. One day Carter too will tuck his blanket inside and not only will the chest be closed, but another phase in their life will too be closed.