Oh, Isaac!

I know that as a defense mechanism we sometimes block things from our memory so that we can simply continue to move forward in life and feel the sunshine on our face. I can only assume that this is what I have done with all memories of Will and Sam when they were 16 months-old. I find it amazing that I could forget a chaos similar to the tornado we lovingly call Ike. Although he is precious and I love him very much there have been several days lately that I am not sure that I like him a whole lot.
He is just everywhere! If I leave the kitchen, he moves the chairs so that he can climb up onto the table and chunk fake fruit across the room.

If I take my eyes off of him to tend to something or someone else or even just look in the opposite direction, he scurries to the plastic drawer to begin unloading it into the trash! (The other morning I found 4 plastic containers, 12 magnets, 2 learning toys, and his pajama bottoms in the trash!)Today, he figured out how to make the water dispenser on the refrigerator. I think I would have been alright if he had just filled a few, even several, cups for a nice cool beverage for any and all of our neighborhood friends. But instead, he was filling them and then dumping them on the mat in front of the refrigerator. Luckily, I caught him between cup #2 and #3.

I don't know. Except for the fruit throwing, I guess he is figuring the world out and doing as he sees done everyday at our house. (No lies, I might not be a fruit lover but I ain't hatin' on the fruit either:)) He is the third child so he receives a third of my attention. I guess I should be thankful he hasn't discovered matches or the weed eater! (Hmm. It is still only lunchtime.)

PS - Here is a funny pic from the other day. Ike had woken up that morning and had wet all over the bed. I cleaned him up and off we went with our day. A couple of hours later, I was rocking him for nap time and saw his pants were wet. What! How is that possible? Well, I took him to the changing table and when I went to grab the legs of his pants, I discovered our little problem.

I think in my haste to get Isaac ready that morning, I failed to attach the diaper correctly. I guess as the morning went on and the urine accumulated, the weight was just too much to bear anymore. So, south it went, right down to Ike's ankle! It was so full and fluffy. I don't know how his little leg could breathe with that diaper clogging the pant leg. Anyway, lesson learned. Mommy, take your time and double check things!

Playing Catch Up

It has been awhile since my last post. So this post is to catch up on the last month or so. If it seems scatter-brained, no worries, that is kind of the last month or so in a nutshell:)

(Will) Right now, Will is done with school, maybe not physically but definitely mentally. I am not sure how or when it happened, but he just sort of checked out sometime after Christmas and has no intention of cheking back in until at least second grade which makes life sort of tough around here. Most mornings are rough and I spend about 3 days a week explaining that it is not me making him go to school but the government and if he doesn't go, then I will go to jail. I think I finish most mornings with, "Now would you like to see Mommy go to jail?" I know that a time will come when he does wish for me to spend some time in the slammer to get me away from him, but thankfully, that time is not right now. So, Will slowly gets out the door each morning but I am certain that on his way to school he is making plans to run for office at his earliest convenience so that he can change this great injustice in America. Will is a no nonsense kind of kid. He can spot busy work from a mile away and he has little tolerance for it. He has a very good teacher who is trying her best to keep Will engaged but at the end of the day, she has 21 kids at all different stages so some busy work is necessary.

Brent and I both hate the fact that Will is bored at times with school and that he would just rather drop out and shovel cow manure. (This the the job I told him he would have if he left school. At first, it was inspirational and motivated him to get up and off to school. Now, he is considering it as a real life path if it means he can stay home:)) We feel bad about his current feelings but our prayer is that through these less than desirable times, he will learn how to adapt and make the best of each and every situation. This is definitely one of the top things Brent and I hope to teach the boys. School is one of the first places we see that life isn't always fun, people aren't always nice, and many of them don't share the same goals and or family values as us. School is where we learn math, science, and art but it is also where we learn patience, true tolerance, empathy, and a love for people so very different from what we know but whom Jesus loved equally to us and gave His life for them just like He did for us.

Outside of school, Will is doing great. He is still very sweet to his brothers and probably takes better care of them and is most likely more attentive to them than his mother:) He has always had a soft heart and a desire to serve. That hasn't changed and our family is blessed by it.

(Sam) He has had a tremendous change of heart these days. Sam is in preschool and has really disliked it for most of the year. He is a real home body and would rather hang here as go anywhere and actually do anything. But, about a month ago, Sam decided he would like to spend most of his time at school. In fact, there have been days when he wanted to go back after just getting home. I was really shocked by this drastic change in attitude, and I was hesitant to ask about it in case he forgot that he hated preschool and my question was simply a reminder but I went for it anyway. His answer for his new found excitement for education, Ninja Turtles. The school has Ninja Turtles, the Chism house does not and that is the way it will stay:) Sam wants to play with Ninja Turtles and to get to do that, he has to go to school. Yeah!!!!! So, the lesson learned here fellow parents: Don't buy any new toys for your house, buy them and take them to school!

So, Sam is happy and really a pretty easy going kid these days. He is still the snuggler and loves quality time. He talks and talks and is really pretty funny to listen to. He picks things up from Brent, Will, and I and to hear our thoughts come from a 4 year-old is a treat! You would think that would make him fun to take places and he is but I do it with definite reservations especially if we are going to be around people we like. Lately, Sam has decided that honesty is the best policy. Now, I am too a fan of honesty but it is one thing when someone asks you a question and you tell the truth. It is quite another when you volunteer information such as, "I don't like riding in your car because it smells funny." or "When I hugged you, I saw that you were a little bald." The hard part about all this besides possibly losing friends that we love or being the target of one of his honest moments, is that he really isn't trying to be mean, he is just telling you how he sees the world. So, we are working hard to keep him from sharing things with others that I guess are probably honest and obvious but still encouraging him to share his thoughts and feelings and maybe with just Mommy and Daddy:) P.S. - I said that Sam picks phrases and such up from us earlier in this post. To be clear, I am pretty certain that none of us (Brent, Will, or I) have told someone that their car smells funny or that they are bald.

(Ike) Isaac is on a terror. I do love him very much but he is working me silly these days. When we are at home, he is like a puppy. He turns over trash cans, pee pees on the carpet and chews on most things including the couch and his family. He loves unloading things like the refrigerator magnets, the pantry, bathroom cabinets, and the plastic container drawer. If he is quiet, there is cause for concern. He is usually up to trouble. When we go out, he unloads things in public too like the stocked shelves at Walmart, the books at the library, and greeting cards anywhere he finds them and this is the worst. About the time I find where one stack of cards go, he is off unloading another stack! I am having trouble keeping up with the Ike lifestyle. We rarely go to Walmart anymore. My mind and body get exhausted just thinking about it. I plan on trying again two years from now, when he turns 3!

Ike is working on his vocabulary. He has about 6-7 words I can understand but my favorite is "chich-in". That is Ike speak for chicken. He is learning all the time and just wants to explore his world, thus the unloading of our house and also a mad dash for any passage way to the outside world! He loves to walk and I would love to allow him that opportunity but most of the time he wants to go left if we need to go right. If we are in one area, he wants to be in another. He is on the move. These days he also is less interested in going to bed. (I guess there are drawers and cabinets that have gone 2 hours untouched.) Used to, I could rock him with a bottle and then place him in his bed with a kiss and he would roll over and fall asleep. Now, he takes his milk and snuggles up to me. (I love that part.) We rock and rock. Just about the time I think he is ready to "give up the ghost", he pops his head up and grins the biggest grin. I am not sure if it is an "I love you SO much that I just needed to communicate that to you before I go to sleep." or if it is a "Gotcha!" I am leaning on the first option. So, most bedtimes and naptimes involve a little crying but nothing that DFS needs to be contacted about.

Brent and I are good. Brent is still hard at work trying to share the news of Coca-Cola to every man, woman, and child that shops at Walmart:) I am obviously busy with the boys. We are blessed beyond belief and are just trying to keep up with all of those blessings!!!

What did I do today?

Most days, Brent comes in the door and very innocently asks about how my day was or what we did that day. So often I begin listing off the days activities and although Brent doesn't question where the time went, there are many times that I do. So, here was an article I read that I thought maybe gave me a little better understanding as to how I lose so many hours in the day:) Enjoy!

Tell Me About It by Carolyn Hax : Friend really doesn't get the kid thing

● Carolyn:
My best friend has a child. Her: Exhausted, busy, no time for self, no time for me, etc. Me (no kids): Wow. Sorry. What'd you do today? Her: Park, play group . . .
OK. I've done Internet searches; I've talked to parents. I don't get it. What do stay-at-home moms do all day? Please, no lists of library, grocery store, dry cleaners. . . . I do all those things, too, and I don't do them every day. I guess what I'm asking is: What is a typical day, and why don't moms have time for a call or e-mail?
I work and am away from home nine hours a day (plus a few late work events), and I manage to get it all done. I'm feeling like the kid is an excuse to relax and enjoy — not a bad thing at all — but if so, why won't my friend tell me the truth?
Is this a contest ("My life is so much harder than yours")? What's the deal? I've got friends with and without kids, and all us child-free folks get the same story and have the same questions.
— Tacoma, Wash.

Relax and enjoy. You're funny.
Or you're lying about having friends with kids.
Or you're taking them at their word that they actually have kids, because you haven't personally been in the same room with them.
Internet searches?
I keep wavering between giving you a straight answer and giving my forehead some keyboard. To claim you want to understand — while in the same breath implying that the only logical conclusions are that your mom friends are either lying or competing with you — is disingenuous indeed.
So, since it's validation you seem to want, the real answer is what you get. In list form. When you have young kids, your typical day is: constant attention, from getting them out of bed, fed, clean, dressed; to keeping them out of harm's way; to answering their coos, cries and questions; to having two arms and carrying one kid, one set of car keys and supplies for even the quickest trips, including the latest-to-be-declared-essential piece of molded plastic gear; to keeping them from unshelving books at the library; to enforcing rest times; to staying one step ahead of them lest they get too hungry, tired or bored, any one of which produces the kind of checkout-line screaming that gets the checkout line shaking its head.
It's needing 45 minutes to do what takes others 15.
It's constant vigilance, constant touch, constant use of your voice, constant relegation of your needs to the second tier.
It's constant scrutiny and second-guessing from family members and friends, well-meaning and otherwise. It's resisting the constant temptation to seek short-term relief at everyone's long-term expense.
It's doing all this while concurrently teaching virtually everything — language, manners, safety, resourcefulness, discipline, curiosity, creativity, empathy. Everything.
It's also a choice, yes. And a joy. But if you spent all day, every day, with this brand of joy — and then when you got your first 10 minutes to yourself, you wanted to be alone with your thoughts instead of calling a good friend — a good friend wouldn't judge you, complain about you to mutual friends or marvel at how much more productively she uses her time.
Either make a sincere effort to understand, or keep your snit to yourself.

More Peenie Stuff

Honestly, how many posts can I write about peenies? With three boys, I am sure the number is bigger than I or anyone else wants to guess, so please forgive me. The peenie is a regular part of our daily discussions which means that from time to time I will post about it. However, I will just try to not make back to back peenie posts in the future:)
The other night at approximately 5:53 pm I heard an annoying sort of crying coming from Sam down the hall. I say annoying not because I was annoyed he was crying but because it just wasn't a full on cry but just a whiny sort of noise. At that very moment I was actually changing a pasty, poopy diaper which made me wonder what Sam could possibly be whining about that was worse than my current situation. About a minute later Sam rounded the corner with his pants around his ankles. I looked up to see his "Sammie" (ok, we don't call it that at home but I was kind of tired of saying peenie so we will use both interchangeably during this post:)) bleeding. I mean, the thing was in trouble! And, I am not sure that until the moment I looked at it, Sam had either. Maybe it was a defense mechanism until he could seek first aid, but at about the same time I looked at it, Sam did and then the crying, real crying began. I tried to ask him was had happened and got bits and pieces of a story about closing the toilet lid on it and then something about falling off the toilet. It was all very confusing and nauseating really. I decided that the details of the injury could wait but that some medical attention was needed. Unfortunately, that wasn't really what Sam had in mind. He didn't want it touched or looked at unless it was by Jesus himself who could heal it in an instant! So, I did the only thing I knew to do that would maybe help which was spray it with some numbing medicine (It is the stuff they give women when they have babies to help heal her precious region but I would never tell the boys that what works for my parts also works for theirs!), I gave him some Advil for the pain, popped some popcorn and started a movie. Honestly, I knew only two of the four of these steps would help Sam but I just needed a moment to think and was hungry. Just kidding! Anyway, since this is not my area of expertise, I decided Brent needed to be involved in this so I tried his cell but of course since this is like the one part of the body that the boys have that I don't and therefore I will never understand, he didn't answer. He had decided to try an exercise class at the gym that started at 6:00 pm and of course this injury happened at 5:53pm. So, next I tried cleaning the region without touching which meant spraying it down with a water bottle. Sam seemed ok with it. His only complaint was that my head was in the way and he couldn't see the movie. So, after careful assessment and a few calls to my parents and Brent's parents, I decided that it would probably be ok just needed a little TLC, Advil, and vagina numbing spray:) Well around 7:00, Brent arrives home and I inform him of the situation. He gave it a quick once over and informed me that I should have taken Sam to someone. In my mind I am thinking about how I could have possibly carried a 1 year-old on one hip and a 4 year-old who can't bend or wear pants because his penis is bleeding on the other? (The 1 year-old can walk but he currently likes to walk in the exact opposite direction of anywhere I need to go.) But, I didn't say what I was thinking, instead I said that I was fine for Sam to go somewhere I just needed some help watching the other kids. He then said something about me specifically needing to take Sam because after all, I would be caring for it during the day and things. Ok, that made sense. I made a call to the doctor and got an appointment for 8:00 pm. As we waited to leave for our appt. time, Brent kind of wandered around but said very little. I thought to myself that maybe he was mad that I hadn't taken Sam somewhere already. I asked him what was wrong. He proceeded to tell me that he was sick to his stomach. No he didn't have food poisoning or the flu, it was Sam, well Sammie that was making him ill! The thought and idea of Sam's injury was making Brent nauseous. He couldn't even look at Sam without feeling sick which was the real reason why I was taking Sam to the doctor and not Brent.
Boys! I think that this is what God meant when He said that He would create a helper for Adam. Had I been out of town, Will would have had to call 911 because I am certain Brent would have needed medical attention had he needed to address Sam's unfortunate injury.
So, Sam and I went to the doctor. She took a look and thought that proper cleaning, ointment application, and time would remedy this situation. When I returned home and told Brent of the doctors treatment plan he questioned if it didn't need a stitch. I told him that I didn't think so and that I was sure that the doctor would have suggested it if she thought it was necessary. Brent's response, "It was a woman doctor? It figures!"
Although Brent has no problem with females physicians, he clearly felt that had it been a male doctor, more attention would have been given to this particular ailment! Mind you that Brent has never had an issue with my male doctor removing one of Brent's children from my girlie region. He doesn't mention how wrong it is that a man invented the tampon. Strange? Personally, I found it all, not the injury but Brent's reaction to the injury and treatment, humorous. I guess what he is saying might not be practical but maybe makes sense. When it comes to medical problems, women physicians should not take care of penises because we will never fully understand them. On the other hand, male physicians should never tend to a woman's brain, they will never fully understand that:)

Reincarnation and peenie glue

Our nighttime ritual at the Chism house is that I get the boys ready for bed and then hand off to Brent so that he can read and pray with them. We used to take turns doing the reading and praying part but I had a tendency to fall asleep before the boys and crash for a few hours which meant that the night was a bust for getting chores and things done. So, Brent has taken over reading duties but he has been out of town recently so I have gotten this pleasure. Last night I was laying with the boys and we had just finished reading books and saying prayers but I was not quite ready to leave them so I hung around for a few minutes.

Somehow Will got on the subject of babies and where they came from. I got in a bit of a panic and thought that my idea of hanging around was no longer a great one! But, I decided that someone gets the heavy questions and I might just want to be the one to get them. Brent's parenting philosophy is a little less delicate than mine which is great in some instances but maybe not for the Birds and Bees conversation with a 7 and 4 year-old:) So, Will proceeds to explain to Sam that when people die they go to Heaven for 40 days until a mommy and daddy decide they want a baby and then at that time they go to be in the mommy's belly. (I think Will's school is putting WAY too much emphasis on recycling these days!) Anyway, when the baby is to be born the doctor gets the baby out of the mommy's tummy and cuts the thing that connects to the peenie. (Obviously Will knows something about the chord but we haven't really explained it well enough. All he has seen in his two baby brothers is that they come home with injured belly buttons and peenies. So, I think he believes the chord runs from the belly to the peenie and it clearly damages both ends.) He then explained that the doctor uses some sort of glue to fix it all.

Voila! That is how you get a baby! At least that is how my 7 year-old saw it yesterday and now my 7 year-old and 4 year-old both see it that way today:) And honestly, I just didn't have it in me to correct any of the story. Brent asked me why I didn't tell Will about Heaven and the whole non reincarnation thing. Well he obviously knows about Heaven and if I at that point, alone without a safety net, tried to say no to reincarnation, I know that I would have gotten the question of where babies really do come from. I mean I have answered that question already by saying that God gives mommies and daddies babies. I thought that was a good answer. Clearly I didn't figure that my son would see God as the master recycler and just send one, a used one, down from Heaven! So, I decided that for that moment in time, I was going to have to let this one slide. We'll let Daddy handle this one when he gets home, delicately or not so delicately, it lets me off the hook;)

Baby Steps

Ok, the holidays are over and things are finally getting back to normal. Well, normal for us anyway:) So, I am working hard to catch up on all of life that fell behind before and during Christmas. That includes a post about Ike's first steps. Yeah!!!! He took a few Christmas morning and has been building ever since. Crawling and being carried are still his preferred modes of transportation but I am sure that won't be for long. I love the early steps, so exciting and fun. It is really sweet to see him in the middle of the living room just stand up and walk. It makes me smile to see him try to chase after Will and Sam at a turtle's pace with a drunken sort of sway to it. Good job buddy! You will get the hang of it soon enough and then, "bar the door" 'cause here comes Ike!

Bragging on Brent

(Picture of Brent with a co-worker, the Coke Polar Bear, and Ryan Seacrest.)
I spend alot of time talkin' 'bout my kids because I do love them dearly and each day one of them does something that shocks, amazes, or frightens me. So, that gives me a great deal of material to work with. However, I do want to take a moment to brag on the other love of my life, Brent. He works very hard for our family and very rarely do I see the fruits of his daily labor except for the paycheck. But, I now have a little nugget for us all to share in. It is a commercial that he helped create for Coke/Walmart. That is what he does, marketing for Coke on the Walmart team. Unfortunately, it is only shown in movie theaters. I am sure no one in Coke knew that Brent would help make a commercial that was so much fun and would really capture the holiday spirit (the secular version:) Otherwise, I am sure they would have spent bookoo advertising dollars to get it on the boob tube. Anyway, check it out. (The jingle was written by the same man that wrote the FreeCreditReport.com commercials.) PS - You might want to pause the music listing on the side of my blog so that you don't have chaos o' music!