they're right here...in black and white

While the boys were playing on the playground at "Broadway at the Beach" in Myrtle Beach, SC, I decided to turn on the black-and-white photo feature and snap some pictures of the boys playing. Bennett was the most willing to let me take his picture, thus the reason why there are more pictures of him than anyone else.

not your average museum

If you have never been to the children's museums in Greensboro or in Wilmington, I highly recommend them. They are a far cry from the museums of my childhood--where you had to be quiet and not touch a thing. In fact, I'm not sure these qualify as "museums" when everything within them is meant to be played with, beaten on, thrown, etc. and whispering is not in any way expected.

The boys especially liked cooking in the kitchen and serving me their dishes. I, of course, loved sitting at the tiny table ordering cheeseburgers, pizza, and lots of desserts! Our other favorite part of the musuem was the stage and karaoke section, which is where Anderson became even more of a clown than usual.

Above are pictures of the boys playing at the museum in Wilmington. (Paul and I played, too.....there just aren't a lot of pictures of that. :))

for the birds

Here are photographs of the boys feeding seagulls from our balcony at the beach. Anderson and Bennett LOVED watching the birds catch pieces of saltine crackers in their beaks. Their acrobatics and maneuvering were highly entertaining. Paul and I were just thankful no bird poop ended up on anything or--more importantly--anybody.

remembering spring break

On March 15th, I blogged about our adventures at the beach. Just to recap, we had a wonderful, relaxing week at the coast until Bennett contracted the rotavirus, which Anderson later got and ended up in the hospital.

Anyway, the enjoyment we experienced as a family was priceless and was actually documented on my camera. I finally downloaded those photos tonight, so it was a sweet time for me to be able to look at them now and reflect not only on our vacation but on how grateful I am for our good health.

I thought I'd share some of our photos on the blog. There wasn't a soul around to take a photo of all of us together on the beach one morning, so here are two pictures of Paul and me with our boys.

lotty dotty, we like to potty

Today I purchased a toddler potty for Bennett. He has been telling me for weeks now when he needs to use the bathroom--not consistently, but regularly--so I thought I should go ahead and let him try with a potty of his own. I purchased one that my sister, Laura, recommended. It is the Fisher Price potty that makes noises, has a pretend flushing handle and toilet paper roll, and praises the child whenever they use it. It also sings songs about flushing and toilet paper use. It's a pretty clever little potty, I must say.

Anyway, I can't get Bennett off of it! He keeps telling me "poop, poop" just so I will let him go sit on it. He actually did do #1 in it today, so I clapped and praised him right along with the potty. However, as soon as I put him in the bath tub for a bath, he did it again. Oh well--we're making progress. He cried for several minutes when I finally made him get into the tub, telling me, "poop, pee!" I then put him back on the potty, but he just smiled, sat there, and flushed the handle a few times.

Maybe it is just the fact that this is a new toy that has made him so enthusiastic. I just hope and pray the enthusiasm continues. If not, we'll postpone potty training until he is ready.

squirrels

I consider myself to be someone who loves animals and has a genuine concern for their welfare. For example, when Anderson holds a caterpillar too tight or catches a lightning bug heavy-handedly or steps on ants just because they are crawling across the driveway, I scold him and tell him to respect the fact that God has given these creatures life by not killing anything needlessly.

Well, sometimes I think I may know of one creature that can be an exception to this rule: Squirrels.

Yesterday morning, Anderson and I left for school when a squirrel ran out in front of my car, darting wildly back and forth and back and forth so that it seemed that no matter what I did, I would run over him. Fortunately for him, I managed to slam on brakes and avoid him, saying to myself more than anyone else, "Stupid squirrel." Anderson heard me and he actually chided me, "Mom! Their brains are like the size of a nut! They don't know any better!"

Okay, so he had a point. They do, after all, seem to always be running about, scared, confused, even panicked. But then I started thinking that it would be far better for me to run over a squirrel than to wreck trying to avoid it.

My dad has a method for approaching squirrels in his car: He aims right for them. He actually tries to run over them. And you know what he discovered? When you do that, you miss them. It's when you swerve to avoid them that they run under your wheels.

So yesterday afternoon, we are driving down Penny Road on our way home from school when a squirrel darts across the road, and I am certain that the car in front of us is going to hit him. I think, "Can't you squirrels just learn to look both ways, for the love of Pete?!!!!" I wince, my eyes squinted, knowing I will witness this squirrel's demise when suddenly, the squirrel leaps high up in the air, barely missing the car's front left wheel, and manages to make it across the road. Shew. That was close. I was thankful my eyes were spared, but you know I was thinking the exact same phrase I uttered that morning...

Stupid squirrel.

scary karate

We went to Karate International tonight to see our good friend, David, get his black belt. We were so excited to watch him finish some of his testing, some of which included breaking boards, bricks (even with his elbow), fighting an opponent, etc. Supposedly, it was really fun to watch. But I didn't get to see it. Neither did Bennett.

When we arrived, Laura, his wife, greeted us and pointed out where she had saved us front row seats. I thought, "Great. Bennett will have a close view of everything and will be very entertained."

Well, as soon as David took the floor for his first demonstration, he yelled out a loud, "HEE!", during one of his moves, and Bennett started shaking. Then, it happened again. "HAAAA!" Bennett started crying. Loudly. So, I get up and take him to the back row, thinking he would regain his composure. Nope. Instead, with the next, "Yaaaa!", Bennett was screaming! I had to leave the building because no matter where I went, he was still crying and terrified. The audience seemed to be laughing at Bennett more than they were watching the demonstration, so I felt horrible for distracting David during his routine!

I comforted Bennett by holding him tightly, whispering "it's okay, they're just playing" in his ear, and taking him outside to play next to the parking lot (which wasn't safe at all). About fifteen minutes later, I returned to find that David was getting ready to spar with an opponent. As soon as the first "HAAA!" was uttered, Bennett was distraught all over again. The audience again began to laugh, and as I ran for the door, I was also frantically trying to get Paul to understand I needed keys to the car.

Even though Bennett and I spent the evening in the van alone, it wasn't all bad. I sat in front of the Mexican grocery store next door and translated all of their advertisements in my head.

I discovered two things tonight that I won't soon forget. One, my Spanish isn't quite as rusty as I thought. Two, when it comes to extracurricular activites Bennett might be interested in, karate will not be one of them.

wild man

This afternoon, after school, I took Anderson to the doctor for a check-up for his seasonal allergies. It has been years since we have had to go to the doctor for this as he has managed to make it through the last few springs without complications. This spring, however, has been difficult. His respiratory system seemed to be very agitated by the allergens outside, and I ran out of albuterol--which helps greatly--so we went in to get new refills and to re-evaluate his condition. Thankfully, Anderson seems to have less and less of a reaction each Spring, and like Paul and I did, he will outgrow this.

Now, to the point of this blog...

You would not believe how hyper my normally laid-back, relaxed child was at this appointment! First of all, I should have known that taking him somewhere that he must sit still after he has been on his best, relatively restrained behavior all day at school where they are taking their end-of-year tests, was a mistake. You would have thought he had been bound and gagged in a cage all day long. Here are just a few of the things he did during the appointment.

1. We arrive at the doctor's office where he is looking at the fish in a large tank in the waiting room, and he is describing them to me in such a loud voice that you would have thought I was sitting clear across a rather large room. In fact, I was only five feet away.

2. He starts tapping on the glass at the fish and making faces at them, when the sign near the tank clearly says, "Please do not tap on the tank."

3. In the exam room, the nurse is asking me questions about his symptoms. He is climbing up the ladder to the tall exam table, then climbing down, then sitting next to me, then leaning on me, then kissing my arm, then laying on me, then flipping through a book, then playing with a toy filled with wooden beads, then loudly swinging the beads back and forth. All of this happened in a matter of two or three minutes. After grabbing him, patting him, then almost pinching him to give him the hint, I finally had to pause from my conversation to tell him to STOP!

4. When the nurse leaves, I tell him that he has to settle down and act like he has been out in public before. He acts like he understands what I am saying, but then he stands up by the door and starts dispensing antibacterial liquid which hangs from the back of it. He then turns and puts one leg up on the step stool while keeping the other on the floor. He takes this pose, straight out of the painting of George Washington and his men on the Delaware River, and loudly exlaims, "Crossing the Delaware"! (Crossing the Delaware is the name of the picture I am pasting above. What can I say? He's learning a lot of U.S. and art history at school.) So at this point, I am now laughing uncontrollably.

5. When the doctor comes in, he does his exam, then Anderson proceeds to crawl off the table, then sits next to me, then leans on me, then repeats part of #3 above. I know he was thinking Anderson must be hyperactive. I would have.

6. Next, we go see the asthma specicialist where he sits and doodles on a magnadoodle board. Since he is sitting between the specialist and me, I had a difficult time listening. He begins to jab the board with the pen, all the while his legs are swingingly rapidly under his chair. He then jumps up as he spies, out of the corner of his eye, a Mr. Potato head with various removable parts on her shelf. If she was testing him for ADHD, he would have been off the charts today. At this point she tells me that if a child uses their inhaler and doesn't inhale but instead swallows, it makes them hyperactive because it is a shot of adrenaline. I think she suspected Anderson had swallowed albuterol. I didn't inform her this wasn't the case and opted to let her believe that if she wanted.

7. We walk out of the specialist's office to get some free samples and dosing instructions. Anderson is hopping on and off a scale trying to weigh himself (even though he had just been weighed), flipping the nobs back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. By this point, I basically jerk him off the scale and escort him to the check-out area.

8. Unfortunately, they weren't sure if his prescriptions had been issued, so we had to wait in the check-out area. Meanwhile, Anderson found another wooden bead game which he was flipping up and down and around, over and over again. I was too tired to reprimand him at this point. His energy had sucked the life out of mine.

Needless to say, when we got home, he headed straight for the playset in the backyard and played for awhile. He needed it. And even more so, I needed it.

chicks dig bennett

papa bluebird & high fives

Guess who we discovered today perched in a tree branch just beyond our front porch? Papa Bluebird! He and Mama were keeping vigil on the tree, watching the nest closely which now has two blue eggs in it!!

I decided to move the wreath while both birds watched because of our concern for their safety and the cleanliness of our front door. We hung the wreath over the bench which sits between the two front windows, and it looks nice there. After Paul and I moved it, I went inside to watch what the birds might do next. I wanted to be sure they found their nest. I waited about five minutes, and Mama (she's a tiny bit smaller than Papa, I think) returned to the nest in its new location. I was relieved. I wanted to be sure they didn't abandon their nest.

On an entirely different note, Bennett is really into giving high fives lately. I am writing this primarily for the benefit of my sisters and their children, just so they know there is a difference between a high five and a swat. Sometimes when he gets excited, he starts swatting towards you, which at first made me concerned that he was trying to hit people! But then Paul told me he wanted a high-five (I assume this was something the boys had been doing when I was not around), and sure enough, that was what he was doing. He goes around the room high-fiving us all and squealing in delight.

mama bluebird update

There is one beautiful blue egg in the nest on the wreath (see previous post)! The mama bird perches on the tree limb not far from our front porch. She watches her nest stealthfully, and she watches me as I peak in it. I talk to her every day, reassuring her that I won't disturb her nest. I lifted Anderson up this afternoon so he could have a peak at the egg. Paul is worried that a bird will fly in the house if I don't move the wreath, but Anderson and I are a little concerned about moving it now--we don't want the mother to abandon her nest at this point.

I think for now these bluebirds have found a home.

the masters

Today was an especially enjoyable one from start to finish--for me, because it started with a quiet, peaceful early morning run, and for the boys, because it ended with golf!

I squeezed my run in before any of the boys were awake, and when they awoke upon my return, I cooked breakfast and then joined my mom and sister for a walk. The temperature was cool (in the 50's), but the sun was bright, so it was a perfect day to exercise.

This afternoon our friend, Kim, brought her daughter, Chelsea, and her grandson, Jordan, over for a visit. Jordan is a month and a half older than Bennett, so they had a ball playing on the play set in the backyard and in the playroom. Before they left, Jordan even gave Bennett a hug on his own intiative. It was precious! Sadly, Jordan will be returning to his home in Massachusettes on Tuesday, so it will be awhile before their next play date. This was our first time meeting Chelsea (Jordan's aunt), but she will be going to school here next fall, so we look forward to seeing her a little more once she moves back home with her mom.

Around 4:30 we left for the golf course. No inspiration was needed from the Masters Tournament which has been playing on our televisions all weekend long. The boys were all excited to be golfing and because I was going to be their cheerleader and cart driver.

We said that we were going to record the date of this family golf outing for posterity because it was Bennett's first time (outside of the womb) on the course! And you know we are all betting he will be a great golfer! :) He took his Fisher-Price putter out and was thrilled to hit his ball down the fairway and across the greens. He also loved driving the golf cart and scribbling on the score card.

Anderson amazes me at how well he plays golf. Paul spots him three strokes on each hole, and he and Anderson play against one another. Even though Paul shot one under, Anderson beat him by one stroke. He is really going the distance with his shots. Paul said he hit the ball 200 yards on Friday when they played.

It is always fun to watch my husband play golf. He makes it look so easy and effortless, and he looks mighty fine striking the ball. He truly has a God-given gift. Not long ago, his mom found a list of goals he had written when he was a young boy that he wanted to accomplish in his life, and this is what it said:
1. To be a great golfer.
2. To have no more than two kids.
3. To be liked.

Amazingly, by age 31, Paul had accomplished all of those goals.

Tonight, we watched as South African Trevor Immelman put on his green jacket as the winner of the 2008 Masters Tournament in Augusta. I admit I had tears in my eyes as I watched his parents, wife, and young son celebrate his victory. And I couldn't help but secretly dream that one day I would be hugging my husband or sons as they finished their 18th hole and were declared the next Masters champion. Of course, Paul doesn't really aspire for that goal for himself as he has found that as much as he loves golf, he really enjoys the career he has established. But I know that he may live vicariously through his boys should they decide to try to become professional golfers.

Even if my boys never win the Masters or any other professional championship, I could be no more proud of them and thankful for them than I am at this very moment. Paul won my heart on our very first date, and my sons mastered it the moment I first discovered I was going to be a mom. There is no question that they are already "masters" to me.

show-offs

Tonight, Anderson is requesting my full attention as I reply to e-mails. Paul is tossing up the alley-oop on our indoor Fisher Price basketball goal (which Anderson has had since he could first walk), and Anderson is doing these very impressive back dunks. He loves when I applaud and cheer, and if he doesn't have my direct attention, he reprimands me with, "Mom!"

Well, Bennett has caught on. He has Anderson's "Stormy" Carolina Hurricane mascot in his hands and is calling for my attention, "Mom! Mom!" When I finally look up at him, he tosses his mascot in the air. Of course, I cheer and clap, just like I do with Anderson. And he grins from ear to ear, picks it up, and then the routine resumes.

"Mom! Mom!" Both boys are wanting my attention.

The emails and American Idol can wait...I won't give up the opportunity to cheer for my boys.

persistence

I have a beautiful white hydrangea wreath that hangs on our front door. It is the first wreath I have ever owned that has been attractive to nesting birds. Last year, I thought it was the two carolina wrens who sleep on the top corner of my front porch who made their attempt at nesting on my wreath. Each day, I would reluctantly undo their efforts by removing straw from the wreath until they finally seemed to get the point--no nests here. My motivation for removing the nest was two-fold: One, I didn't want a bird flying into the house when I opened the door. Two, I didn't want to break any eggs as Anderson is quite experienced at inadvertently slamming the door.

This week, pieces of pine straw which were just placed in the natural areas of our yard are mysteriously ending up in my wreath again. I was sure it was the wrens doing, so again, I removed the straw, apologizing out loud to them as I did it, assuming they were nearby and could hear: "Sorry birds. You just can't build it here." However, yesterday, as I turned the knob to open my front door, a bluebird flew from the wreath and perched on a branch just a few feet from our front porch. I stood there, staring, wondering why a bluebird would build her home in my wreath. I thought bluebirds liked open spaces with few trees. Well, this bluebird likes my wreath. And no matter how many times I have removed the pine straw, within a few hours, the pine straw is back, placed in a circular shape with a small yet deep indention in the middle. It is a perfect nest. It is hidden by the leaves and blooms of the hydrangeas, safe from predators. (Well, Anderson may very well be an unintentional predator with his occasional door slamming.)

This afternoon, as I was sweeping the pine straw off the porch (she makes quite a mess with her nest building), I thought of how persistent this bird has been. Talk about tenacity!! She just isn't giving up. And I'm a tenacious gal, so I haven't given up on removing the nest. Until now. I have to admit--I admire this bird's persistence! It reminds me of someone...it reminds me of us!!

Bennett likes to wade deep in the pond. We tell him not to go any further, so he shakes his head to indicate his disagreement. We snatch him from the pond. He cries in defeat. And then, moments later, he is heading for the water again.

Anderson was probably two years old when he was trying to pedal his tricycle up my parents' driveway, but it had a slight incline, so it was far more difficult to pedal towards the house than away from it. He would ride his tricycle to the end of the driveway, turn around, try to pedal back, and would end up frustrated and in tears. His granddaddy would say, "Let me help you." But Anderson insisted that Granddaddy not help him, and he persisted to struggle to pedal, all the way declaring to his grandfather, "No. My do it! My do it!"

Paul is a persistent golfer. He shoots a 65, and he is on the course the next day, trying to do it again. He shoots an 80, and he is on the golf course the next day trying NOT to do that again.

Anyone who knows me is well aware that I can be hardheaded. You can witness my persistence on any given day, I'm sure. No need to even share my stories, is there?

I should add that it isn't just her persistence that compels me to allow this mama bird to nest in my wreath. I relate to her as a mother. I would go to extraordinary lengths to build our home in the place that was the safest shelter possible for our children. And that is really all this bluebird wants--a safe place to call home.

the pon-pon

I have previously written about Bennett's love for the pond behind our house, also known as the "pon pon". Actually he loves all ponds--from the big "pon" at the beach to the little "pon" that appears in the cul-de-sac after a good rain. Obviously, he thinks any body of water is a "pon" and enjoys throwing rocks (or seashells) in them all. As soon as Paul walks in the door from work, Bennett starts saying, "pon pon", with the biggest grin on his face, and his finger pointed towards the backyard.

It has become a ritual this week, now that the sun is peaking through the clouds and the temperature isn't frigid, to go as a family down to the pond. Paul carries his fishing rod and lures, still trying to snag a bass. Anderson has now realized the importance of wearing old clothes and shoes as he loves to catch minnows and tadpoles and play on the concrete spillway. (He slipped and fell today and slid all the way to the culverts....it hurt, I could tell, but he was impressed with his sliding.) Bennett stands in the foul-smelling, algae-filled water that reaches mid-calf, dragging a stick through the water, throwing rocks, and spitting in the water. As for me, I fish a little, feed the wild goose that will eat right out of my hand, make sure Bennett doesn't go any further into the pond, and help Anderson clear out the place where the beavers have made a dam.

It is a nice way to spend an evening as a family. With the quiet, peaceful water, the abundant wildlife, and the cheap entertainment for all, these are just some of the many reasons why I am grateful to live where we do.