Our Weekend

Our weekend didn't involve much fun in the snow.  Friday night as the snow began to fall, Sam was so excited.  He and I ran around outside twice in our pajamas admiring the flakes as they began to stick. Saturday morning both the boys bounded out of bed to get dressed and head outside.  Jody took them out and they lasted about ten minutes.  I found them eating breakfast and watching Noggin at G-Ma's house. I noticed Sam seemed a little whiny and out of sorts.  He and I caught a ride with Robin and Mimi to the movie store and he was crying and begging to go home half way there. He finally told me his ear was hurting.  We ran in Blockbuster and rented five animal themed movies as Sam continued to beg to go home.  After more tears and whining, we headed to the new Emergency Room near our house.  I didn't want to be stuck at home for days with a child with a bulging eardrum.  We went right in and my worries were confirmed, a bad left ear infection.  Jody came to pick us up at the ER and we went to get Sam's antibiotic.  By then, the Motrin they gave him in the ER had kicked in and he was a happy, sweet, very talkative boy again.  He is feeling much better and even ventured outside today to go on a hike with his Daddy.  As I type this he is laying beside me wearing his first pair of under-roos and I swear he looks like he's seven years old.  I can't handle how fast he is growing.  We have a busy week ahead.  Sam goes back to the dentist, the nursery and big boys' room is being painted and the much anticipated bunk beds are being delivered.  Fun, fun, fun.

Happiness

It's the little things.  Like eating tractor snacks in the tub.  Even the ones that you've accidently dropped in the water.  That's the little things that make all the difference. Pure, easy, happiness.

Paper Boy

I can't quite put my finger on what makes this activity so interesting, but Jack finds nothing more fun than watching paper roll off my printer.  I always try to hook it up to the computer to print when he is immersed in Dora or playing with his tractors, but it never fails, he hears the first page being printed and he sprints to the kitchen.  He hops over the USB cable and sits in his little black chair, anxiously awaiting the next page.  He is serious and intense about removing the paper from the printer, two qualities that we rarely see in our wild boy.  I've learned not to argue with him about it and have resolved myself to the fact that this is his special job.  I only have to remind him a few times to wait until the paper is all the way out before picking it up and handing it to Mama.  He loves pulling that paper right off the press and handing it to me.   It ranks right up there with tractor rides with Poppa.  And that is very, very high.

Waiting patiently...

Perfect form, ready to catch the first page...

Waiting, waiting, waiting until it is finished, just like Mama said to...

And then he proudly hands it off to Mama.  Job well done.

Cheap Laugh

Last night we ate dinner at  Nana and JP's .  Jack came over to me on the couch and began pulling up my shirt to see the baby, something he does pretty often.  After a quick peak, he ran off to the playroom to join the others.  Allyson asked me if I had drawn a picture on my belly for Sam and Jack yet, something she did often for Cade and Cannon when she was pregnant with Landry.  I hadn't even thought about doing the face trick yet so when she mentioned it, I jumped on it.  I ran to find Nana's washable markers and Ally and I snuck into the bathroom so she could draw a picture of Will on my belly.  She and I both were dying laughing as she struggled to incorporate my belly button that is now completely sticking out.  She finished and I sat back on the couch and called Jack.  He came running and when I asked him if he wanted to see the baby again, he said yes and sweetly leaned over to kiss my belly...

and then he lifted my shirt to find the face.

He immediately let out a shriek and jumped away from me, scared to death,... 

and then the others came running to see what was going on.

Sam saw my belly and had to fight back tears.  He was really disturbed and came up to me and said, "No, Mama.  I don't want Will to look like that.  I don't like his face like that."  I reassured him that it was just a joke and that Will would certainly not look like that baby, with arched eyebrows , spiky hair, and a huge mouth.

When everyone realized it was just a joke, they all gathered around to look at the funny face on my very large belly.

After everyone took a good look and admired Ally's  artwork, Jack told me it was time to "clean it off" and he insisted on scrubbing my belly until all signs of the face were gone.  Just another cheap laugh at the expense of my wonderful children and their cousins.  

Squeaky Clean

Doing his part to keep germs at bay...

one whole bottle...

of hand sanitizer at a time.

Sweet Spirit

Sam has become very interested in talking about God lately.  He loves questioning me about "Who made...?" followed by all the things of the universe like stars, animals, bugs, babies, rain and so on.  He talks often about how "God made the whole world, even me." He has started asking a lot of questions about heaven and even still talks about Randy. His questions are often very hard to answer and leave me searching for the right words. Words that will allow him to understand all the wonder of heaven without being afraid or worried about dying.  He continually asks, "Why didn't the doctors just make Randy get well?  Why did God want him to go to heaven instead of just getting better?  Why doesn't God let me go to heaven when I get sick?  If I get more germs in my belly will I go to heaven to0?  Does God only want older people to live in heaven with him and not little boys like me?"  

I am amazed by his deep thinking and hope I can teach him about all the things he wants to know about God.  I am so happy that he is interested in learning more and that he already knows about how powerful God is.  He enjoys saying his prayers, but this has usually been reserved for before meals and at bedtime.  Last night he walked up to me in the playroom and said, "Hey, Mama.  Let's pray."  He immediately bowed his head and said, "Dear God...thank you for making the whole world.  Thank you for making all the animals.  And for making bears.  Thank you God for everything.  Everything.  I love you God."  And he ran back to play, without missing a beat.  And I remain amazed...

My Giraffe

Today I had my checkup and an ultrasound. An ultrasound that I sweet talked my doctor into ordering on my last visit because I insisted that I was giving birth to a mammoth child. I was quite convinced that I was indeed carrying an elephant around and that he needed to know that so he could kindly let me schedule an induction with him. An induction that would involve me being greeted at the hospital door by the anethstesiologist begging me to let him administer my epidural right there in the parking lot. We would need to plan this birth and it would need to be sooner than my due date in order to insure that I didn't bring Big Will home wearing six month clothes.

So I anxiously climbed onto the ultrasound table today, fully prepared to see the silhouette of a two month old pop onto the screen. Well, actually, I was prepared to hear the following words, "Um, Mrs. Standley, I don't know how to tell you this. Um, it appears that we missed something on your last ultrasound. It appears that you're having twins. Congratulations!" Yes, I had already rehearsed the conversation I would have with Jody, when I called to tell him we would be having two babies, not one. So I awaited those words. And they didn't come. Relief. Great, only one baby. Thank you, Lord. Now go ahead and give me the news. I am going to have to birth an elephant. Go ahead and tell me that this is the biggest baby you've ever seen in your life. Then pat my leg and sympathize with me, telling me how you can't imagine how bad my back must ache and how you know I must feel like my stomach is certainly going to explode at any moment. Go ahead, tell me.

Instead I heard, "Oh, he looks just great. He is in the 67th percentile right now and weighs five pounds, three ounces. I'd say he'll probably be an eight and a half pound baby." Are you kidding me, I thought. This baby feels so different than my other two. I knew Jack (8 lbs 6 oz) was larger than Sam (7lbs 10 oz). I think women can tell pretty well if they are having a big baby or not. That's why I knew with great certainty that Will was going to be a huge, massive baby. I hurt all the time. I have contractions that would have sent me squealing tires to the hospital on my first baby (I know only to be nicely sent back home, but I still would have gone). I feel certain his leg or some part of his body has fallen out of my body at least ten times a day. My hips ache as I try to sleep. When he moves it looks like some alien life form has overtaken my abdomen as my stomach morphs into a lopsided, uneven, hard lump. Yes, I was so sure he was going to already weigh nine pounds today, not a little over five. "Well, how long is he?" I asked. "Oh, there's no way to tell because he is so balled up."

And there it was. My explanation. The reason for my pain and misery. He may not be a heavy weight, but he is certainly a giant. That's it! I will be giving birth to a eight and half pound baby, but he will be thirty inches long. I'm having a giraffe, not an elephant. That's why I am in agony. I am carrying the world's longest baby. At least that's what I'm telling myself. And anyone who asks.

The World's Longest Baby

Still A Boy

Sam is an animal lover.  These days he is big on buffaloes, rhinos and hippos.  But he still enjoys hanging out with domesticated animals like those around the farm.  He is quite good with the animals and knows how to approach them without scaring them and how to keep a safe distance to avoid being kicked or knocked down.  He is remarkably mature and smart and his kindness and compassion makes us proud.

But then like any boy, you throw in a stick, or pvc pipe in this case, and the mischief begins.  And that sweet, compassionate, animal lover begins chasing the small cows around, prodding them with his weapon.  And laughing each time he gets close enough to actually give one a slight poke, unafraid of them or the bigger cows standing nearby.  Yes, boys will be boys.  And for that I'm sorry, dear cows.

Five J's

It's official...we're in the cattle business. Well, not really we. More like Jody and his Dad. Although I feel I am owed some ownership seeing as I designed the sign as a Christmas gift to Jody, came up with the name after urging Jody to please tell me the official name and he never would (in a sneaky attempt to surprise him with the sign) and have the tedious task of entering all the cow information on our tax return. And I won't get into how I get abandoned every weekend because "cow work" needs to be done. Yes, I'm naming myself co-owner, or vice-president, or CEO. The sign now stands at the end of our driveway for all to see. The last I heard there are 41 heads of cattle with several babies due in the spring. Exciting. And the "Five J's"...that stands for Jody, his dad, Joe, and all three boys middle name...John, Johnson, Joseph. And, yes, I've already been asked," What if there's a sixth J one day?" According to Jody, "that ain't gonna happen" and I'll just respond by saying, "We'll see."

328

The Dentist

Today Sam had his first visit to the dentist. I scheduled him to go along with me for my regular cleaning. He was a little anxious, but after several talks explaining what would happen, he felt brave enough to go. Sam went first and climbed up in the chair like a champ. He followed instructions perfectly and handled the cleaning like a pro. They did find that he has a small cavity in one of his back teeth. The hygienist commented on how strong and clean his teeth look and that she was really surprised that he has a cavity. She went on to tell me that when their teeth look as good as his do, a cavity is usually the result of falling asleep while drinking milk or juice. "So be sure to make him brush after he finishes his last cup in order to make sure none is left on his teeth as he falls asleep," she told me. "Oh, okay. Sure." I smiled and graciously accepted her advice. I've read all the articles in Parents magazine about how awful it is for your child to fall asleep while drinking. I've even read the helpful hints from parents who use little finger toothbrush devices to gently clean their sleeping child's teeth if, heaven forbid, they fell asleep with a juice or milk cup in the mouth. I totally get it. And I do worry about their teeth, just like I worry about every aspect of their health. So there was no way I was going to own up to the fact that my children drink milk. A lot of milk. And that the night is no exception. And I don't stick a toothbrush in their mouth when they're done. I certainly wouldn't have told her that some mornings I walk four of five empty milk cups into the kitchen. Yes, it's my dark, dirty secret. I give my children milk during the night if they ask for it. Terrible, I know.

We left the dentist and Sam immediately began asking question after question about his cavity. I explained that it was just a tiny little hole and that Dr. Lee would clean it up and fix it for him and he would never even know it was there. He accepted my explanation and then this conversation took place...

"Mama, so I have a teeny, tiny hole in my tooth?"

"Yes, honey, you do. But Dr. Lee is going to fix it and your tooth will be just fine."

"Well, is it going to hurt when I eat ice cream?"

"Not if we get it fixed, honey."

A few moments of silence...

"Mama, you know it's really not that bad to have a tiny hole in your tooth."

"Really, son?"

"Yeah, Mama. You can get tiny holes in lots of places. Like your nose or your heini or your ding dong or even your leg."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. It happens a lot of times and it's okay. Little holes don't hurt at all, Mama."

"Well, son, I sure am glad about that."

"Okay, Mama."

Whatever it takes to make him feel better. Whatever it takes.

Getting Toasty

Every night after baths, this is what they do...

Personalities

My boys are different. Kind of like night and day in a lot of respects. Like sleeping, eating, talking, playing...I could go on and on. Saturday I was inside with Sam all day, who was still a bit under the weather, and Jack hung out with his Daddy doing "cattle stuff." By the middle of the afternoon Sam was going stir crazy so I drug out the dot paint and coloring books. Jack came home soon after we started and immediately found his seat at the table to paint too. And it didn't take long for their personalities to shine through onto their artwork.

Sam meticulously planned each dot. He began with the drawing of the beaver, placing each dot carefully on the paper, careful not to paint too much. I encouraged him to fill the page with dots, not just certain areas. "Um, no thanks." I offered him other colors to make the picture bright and colorful. "Um, no thanks." He did get a little experimental on the drawing of the fox, nearly covering the entire picture with that same, safe yellow paint. Yes, he took a walk on the wild side with that fox...

Jack plopped in his seat and couldn't get his sleeves pushed up fast enough to get started. He got angry when he couldn't hold all six colors in his hand at the same time. Jody convinced him to use one color at a time and gave a quick demonstration. And it was on. He pounded out those dots like a mad man. And he couldn't rotate the colors fast enough. Soon bottles were flying, caps were scattered on the floor and he worked feverishly to use one color and quickly replace it with another without missing a beat. His paper was dripping with a soupy mess, all six colors running together. "Slow down, honey," I begged. "You are putting on too much paint. Your paper is soaking wet and is going to tear." The only way to make him stop was to grab the soaked paper away from him and replace it with a dry, fresh copy before he pounded out the next dot. Pure, pure Jack...
There artwork is proudly displayed side by side on the kitchen cabinets. They love admiring their handiwork as do I. But I find myself admiring the differences the most.

Tough Guy

Lone Ranger Mask...$1.00

Cowboy Cap Gun..$3.00

Sheriff's Badge...$.50

Wolverine Claw...$10.00

Being the toughest, best equipped boy in this neck of the woods...priceless.

Warning

A little warning...from Jack Standley:

It is not a good idea to eat dinner naked. When your Mama or Daddy tells you to put on a diaper, you should listen. Don't sneak over to your seat and start eating. Especially if your Daddy fried tater tots. You know, in grease. Because sometimes the tater tot may just fall apart and the hot inside could, in fact, stick to your ding-dong. Oh, and it could leave a blister. Or two. And hurt really, really bad. I'm just saying.

The Fireman

We've been using our gas logs a lot lately. Partly because it's been freezing here, partly because Jody is obsessed with them. Seriously, he'll crank the logs up until it's eighty degrees inside and the boys are sweating as they watch Noggin. Or he'll say, "You cold? It's gotten down to seventy in here, maybe I should turn the logs on." So we usually have the fireplace on in the living room and the den for a substantial part of the day. In turn, I have found myself saying (and often yelling) the following quite a bit lately...

"Get away from the fireplace."

"Don't touch the screen, it will burn you."

"Don't put chips in the fire."

"Don't spit on the fire."

"Don't sit that close. I understand that you're cold, but it's not necessary to pull a chair that close to the fireplace."

"No, your animals do not need to sit there to get warm."

"Why are there m and m's in the fireplace?"

So I really wasn't that surprised to find this...

Jack (any surprise that it was Jack and not Sam) got a little too close to the fire. The same Jack who burned the tip of his finger off last year by touching the pilot light. Thankfully,the logs were not on when he decided to venture too close this time. After giving him the "stay away from the fireplace" lecture, I must admit that I laughed when I went to remove the toy. He hadn't chosen to stick a tractor, truck, car or jeep in there. Nope. He stuck his fire truck in the fireplace. How appropriate. I am sure the wheels in his brain were in high gear when he stumbled across that toy fire truck... "Hmmm, here's a fire truck. And there's that funny looking thing over there that has fire in it sometimes. Mama says I better stay away from there. And Daddy spanks me if I touch the screen. Hmmm. But look at this shiny fire truck. I bet this shiny fire truck could put that fire out if it got too big. Yeah, yeah. That's a good idea. I'm sure this plastic won't melt and there's no way this fire truck could start a bigger fire. I'll just put this right here so that fire doesn't get out of control and burn our house down. Man, Mama and Daddy are going to love me for this. I am so, so smart."
Yes, thank you Jack. I choose to overlook the danger in this and instead find the humor. I have no doubt that you thought you were doing a good deed. Now, we will begin working on learning how to make sure our "good deeds" don't cause any bodily harm...or structure damage. I love you, my little fireman.

Daddy's Birthday

Under the Weather

Jack has been under the weather for a couple of days...high fever, upset stomach, moody and tired. And he is under the impression that band-aids can fix any kind of boo-boo, even a virus, because he has been sticking them to himself like a mad man the last two days.

He's been sticking band-aids and I've been spraying lysol. A lot. I sure wish spraying lysol made me as happy as sticking band-aids makes him.

What's In a Name?

A name.  It's  a pretty important thing.  It's the toughest decision you have to make after finding out you're expecting a baby...what name you'll give him to carry through life.  I like classic, traditional names. I like biblical names. I like family names.  Some people say I want my children to have it easy when they are bubbling in their name on the SAT, hence I give them the shortest name possible (Corey Lee). But the truth is, I just like simple, special names and I am happy that each of my sons have a name that means something to us and will one day mean something to him.

Sam...I have always loved the name Samuel.  I think it is just a beautiful name and I even find myself calling him Samuel just to hear that sweet name.  I knew as soon as I found out I was pregnant that if I had a boy, his name would be Samuel.  Jody really didn't have a choice in the matter.  Thankfully, he liked the name too and agreed. When we discovered we were having a boy, Samuel it was.  We then moved on to middle names.  Again, I knew instantly what his middle name would be.  John, named after my Daddy, who was named after his father and grandfather.  Samuel John...biblical, traditional, family.

Jack...Jack's name didn't come as easy to us.  Jody and I couldn't agree.  I offered Nicholas, Noah, Seth, Max...none of which he liked. I tossed out Jack or Jackson...he didn't seem interested.  So we moved on to the middle name.  I knew I wanted this boy named after his great grandparents, specifically his great grandfather, Rudolph Johnson.  Rudolph and Sam shared such an amazing bond and were the very best of friends and I knew he would share a special bond with this second little boy too. We decided that our next son would have the middle name Johnson, after his great grandparents.  We tried many different first names and one night laying in bed Jody said, "Jack Johnson Standley.  Not Jackson.  Just Jack."  And that was it.  Jack Johnson...classic, traditional, family.

Our third son.  I wanted Luke.  Jody said no.  Jody offered a name that I had begged to name Jack...Will.  Ironic, I thought.  Will is a special name, a name I loved and had really put out of my mind as an option.  And now Jody was choosing it.  Both of my grandfathers are William.  They are two very special, very wonderful men.  Jody's grandmother is Willa.  She is an angel on earth.  Jody's great grandfather, Marie's father, was Will.  Jody nor I ever knew him but I have heard wonderful stories about him and I know I would have adored him.  I chose to use Lee as his middle name, Jody and his Dad's middle name.  Jody said no.  He wanted this baby named just for his Dad, not him.  So our third son has a name.  William Joseph Standley...traditional, biblical, family.

And we can't wait to meet him...our little Will.

He's the Man

Jack, my second son, soon to be middle child. And he fits the role of middle child perfectly, I might add. The one who marches to the beat of his own drum. And runs around naked all the time. And laughs at himself. And pretends to have narcolepsy, by pretending to fall asleep at any given moment and then doubling over laughing at himself when I say, "Oh, no. Jack's gone to sleep again." That's him. My funny, funny boy. My funny boy who also likes to give himself new names. He's has recently changed his name. Again. So to recap... we've had "Joe Mama." We then moved to "Jackie Poo Poo." Then he used his real name with a little too much annunciation for a while, proudly shouting "Jack Staaannn-ddleeey." And now he prefers to be called by something a little different. Yes, Jack has a new name. I proudly introduce..."Jack the Man." We're working on his humility.

Questions

Sam is my deep thinker. He asks hundreds if questions a day. Seriously, hundreds. One after the other. Many of which I don't have the answer for. I started directing him to his Daddy on many of the animal questions and now he will often stop himself before finishing a question and say, "Oh, never mind, Mama. That's probably a Daddy question." Here's just a few he's pondered over the past couple of days...

"Why doesn't God fall out of the sky?"

"Why am I a boy?"

"Who made God?"

"Why can the reindeer fly?"

"Why do people still have their Christmas decorations up after "Happy New Year"?"

"Why are gorillas hairy?"

"Why is grass green?"

"Why are tigers mean?"

"Why do I keep growing?"

"Why can't I just be a baby bear?"

"Why does everybody really want me to spend the night with them anyway?" (After having to be picked up from Nana's house at midnight so he could come home and see his Daddy)

"Why does everybody love me?"

"Why do my teeth have to fall out one day?"

"Why does the wind burn my face?"

"Will my heini stick together if I swallow my gum?"

"Why is this toy animal looking that way?"

And my personal favorite..."Why is water wet?"

2010

Happy New Year...

from Sam...

and Jack.