Helpful

Jody has a calf that he is bottle feeding twice a day.  He brings her bottle inside every night to wash it. Before bed the other night, he reminded me to pay attention if I had to grab a bottle for Will during the night, so I didn't accidentally grab the wrong bottle.  He even took a picture to show me the difference.

I'm so thankful he cleared the whole bottle thing up for me.  I might have grabbed the two liter bottle with the four inch nipple in a tired stupor and shoved it in my sweet baby's mouth, wreaking havoc on his gag reflex. My husband.  He is so helpful.

Celebrations and Sickness

We celebrated Sam's birthday on Monday with a trip to the movies to see Rango.  Cade was out of school for a workday, so Mama and I took all six kids to lunch at Chick-fil-a and on then to the movies.  Sam and Jack had seen the movie over the weekend with Robin and Kay and Sam really wanted Cade and Cannon to see it.  After a few problems with the seating arrangements (Sam and Jack both wanted to sit between Cade and Cannon), they were finally all in a seat, booster seats in place, snacks in their lap.  Popeye made an appearance...

Will was overly tired and insisted on crawling all over the nasty floor.  Ten minutes into the movie, I was pretty sure we'd made a mistake.

I left with Will and actually had to drive him around the parking lot to get him to fall asleep.  When I returned to the theater, I saw things spiraling out of control.  Sam was narrating the movie.  Loudly.  Landry was bouncing from seat to seat, flipping the booster seats over to make a boat to sit in.  Jack told me he was ready to leave.  Cannon, Cade and Sam moved to sit on the steps and continually moved down five steps, back up three steps, down four steps, back up to the top...repeat the process.  Landry was using the handrail to practice ballet and gymnastics.  One of the characters in the movie burped loudly and scared the %^$# out of a sleeping Will.  Landry forgot her popcorn was in her lap and stood up quickly, dumping it all over the floor and down the steps.  The three older boys began to carry on a conversation, talking as loud as they possibly could.  It was time to go.  And we did.
Sam was thrilled to have his best buds come back to our house to play.  Actually, they would have been just as happy to be here all day, together, doing nothing more than dressing up in costumes, running laps around the house and deciding whose turn it was to be "the bad guy."  Sam enjoyed the chance to finally open a few gifts...

The Lees stayed for dinner and cupcakes, making my five year old the happiest boy around.  He opened gifts from us before bed and thanked me for everything as he hugged me goodnight.  It was a terrific beginning to the week.

Monday was a wonderful day.  Unfortunately, a few days later I was back at the doctor with this sweetie...

Will went down for a nap Tuesday a sleepy, but happy baby.  He woke up twenty minutes later screaming. I picked him up from his crib and noticed the side of his face and the hair over his left ear was wet.  I thought it was sweat or even drool and didn't give it much thought.  I tried to soothe Will but could not get him to stop crying.  Her was screaming uncontrollably, and began beating his hand on the left side of his head.  Fluid began running out of his ear and down his neck.  I could not get him to stop crying.  He was in terrible pain and inconsolable.  I called Jody and asked him to please come home.  I called my Mom and asked her to please come drive Will and me to the doctor's office.  Jody and Mama pulled up with in minutes and off we went to the doctor, my child screaming the entire way.  I though his eardrum had ruptured after seeing the amount of fluid running out of his ear.  But I knew that if the drum had ruptured, he would have been relieved, not still in pain.  My mind began to race.  I was overcome with worry and felt like something was really wrong with the amount of fluid that was coming out of his ear and the pain he was in.  He literally screamed for an hour and a half, only calming down on the ride home from the pediatrician.  It turns out his ear is full of fluid and his tubes are actually working.  I also learned that a drum can't rupture if you have tubes.  The tube prevents that by allowing the fluid to drain instead of building up in the drum.  It makes since now, and had I thought it through more clearly, I should have known the RSV had left a very large amount of fluid in his sinus cavity and Eustachian tubes, that had tuned unto infection and that the tubes were actually working.  The doctor even said most children don't  experience the kind of pain through their tubes draining like Will was experiencing.  And if the amount of fluid is any indication of how much it should hurt, he was definitely in pain.  I am amazed by how much fluid this poor boy had in his sweet little head.  I can't imagine how bad he must have felt and how uncomfortable he must have been.  He is on oral antibiotics and ear drops for ten days.  He is improving by the hour, but the fluid continues to drain from his ear in unbelievable amounts.  I am so ready for the end of cold season.  I anxiously await warmer weather and a healthy, happy baby.  It can't come soon enough.

Five

Dear Sam,

Last night, well after you had climbed onto the top bunk, I called your name, hoping you were still awake, hoping you'd hear me.  My heart fluttered when I heard your sweet voice, "What, Mama?"  I asked you to come to my room and you bounded through the door in your spider man pajamas, full of curiosity.  You were probably disappointed when I told you that I just needed to see you one more time as a four year old.  And that I needed to hold you and hug you one more time as my sweet, four year old boy.  You obliged with a smile and a giggle and threw your arms around me.  You even let me take your picture, knowing your sentimental Mama needed to document the moment.  Another hug and a quick kiss and off you ran, back to your room. And I was left with this, to treasure forever...

You woke this morning to me singing to you and immediately sat up in bed and told me you needed your Daddy.  I asked you why and you wouldn't tell me.  I worried about what you were thinking and what might be wrong.  I called your Daddy and he couldn't talk.  I told you he'd call back in just a minute and I watched as you sat silently waiting for the phone to ring.  Within minutes, he called and I heard this...

"Daddy?"

"Hey, Buddy."

"Um, Daddy, is it okay if I call you Dad now that I'm five?"

"Sure, Sam.  You can call me Dad."

"Okay, bye."

"Bye, Buddy."

My heart broke.  How had you grown up?  Overnight.  And while I know this was just a small incident, I knew that this was just the beginning.  This was a glimpse of what life has in store for me now, as the mother of a boy who is growing up before my eyes.  A life full of letting go, holding on, heart break, joy, prayers, love.  Oh how I wish I could hold on tight enough.  Tight enough to shield you from pain, disappointment and the harsh realities of a world that does not offer you the love and adoration you find inside the walls of our home.  Tight enough to protect you from people who hurt you, treat you unfairly or fail to see your sweet spirit and precious heart. Sam, if I could, I'd hold tight to you forever.  If only you could stay little forever.  If only I could take care of you forever.  But we both know, this is not God's plan.  You will continue to grow more independent and in doing so, you will need me a little less.  And a little less. And a little less.  And the thought of that. simply and completely, breaks my heart.  And while I'll certainly struggle with the letting go, I know one thing for sure,  

My love for you is enough.

Enough to encourage you to grow.  Enough to watch you chase your dreams.  Enough to cover you in prayer.  Enough to teach you tough lessons.  Enough to watch you fail.  Enough to encourage you to try again.  Enough to always be your biggest fan.  Enough to show you the power of hope.  Enough to be your safe place.  Enough to be your home.  Enough to sit back and watch you shine.  Enough to mend my ever breaking heart.

Sam, you are wonderfully made.  You are a blessing. You are loved.  You are wanted.  You are a child of God.  You were created for a purpose.  You are prayed for.  You are needed.  You are valued.  You are worthy.  You are special.  You are adored.  You are beautiful.  

Shine, sweet boy.  Shine.  

Happy Birthday.

I love you. To the moon and back.

Mama 

For Samuel

On the eve of your fifth birthday...

Party Poope

Today we were suppose to celebrate our oldest cowboy turning five.  

Western style.

But somebody decided to crash the party with a lovely case of RSV...

Apparently, Will felt like getting Sam back for the charades his older brother pulled at his first birthday party a few weeks ago (getting sick and distracting his Mama from the party).

So the party has been postponed.

And Sam only had a slight meltdown.

He has been very understanding and very sweet to his sick little brother.

But I have had to count down the days until his "new" party day at least one hundred times today.

Now if only I could find a way to indefinitely postpone him actually turning five, I'd be one happy Mama.

Dandelions

Every afternoon when I pick Sam and Jack up from school, they jump in the car, excited to tell me about their day.  They both stand in between the seats, digging into their pockets.  "Mama, I got something for you," one says.  "Me too, Mama.  I got something for you too," the other chimes in.  They begin to empty their pockets, revealing the little gifts they have for me.  Dandelions.  Dandelions picked for me as they play outside.  Dandelions that are now wilted and flat from traveling around in little boy's pockets.  A sweet, sweet reminder to me that they think of me while they're away and that maybe they're missing me just like I'm missing them.

Loving Him

Jack, I love you.

I love how you give me the biggest smiles.

And I love how you insist on buttoning your own shirt and the result of your efforts.

 I love how your face is nearly always dirty.

And that you rock buckskins and rainboots with your misbuttoned white shirt.

But most of all, I just love you.

Just you.

That's all.

How His Brain Works

"Mama, my need that orange vacuum.  Can you go get it?

"No, Jack.  If you want to play with a vacuum, go get your toy vacuum cleaner."

"But Mama, my need to get up these pretzels that Will spilled."

"Jack, the vacuum cleaner won't pick up a pretzel.  It just picks up crumbs.  Just pick them up and throw them away."

Inside Jack's brain...

Hmm, what can I do to get my hands on that vacuum cleaner?

Ooooh, Ooooh!  I know!   I know!

I'll use this little toy hammer to break the pretzels into tiny pieces.

Mama said the vacuum is for cleaning up crumbs.

I'll make crumbs!  I'll make crumbs!

Yes!  Now I can use it.  

I'm cleaning up these crumbs.

Mama will be so happy.

My plan worked!  It worked!

"Jack Standley!  What are you doing? What did I tell you about that vacuum?"

Uh, oh.  

I'm busted.

Mama looks mad.

I better turn on the charm.

Look at this smile, Mama.

You can't be mad at me.

Keep smiling,  

Keep smiling.

She doesn't look as mad.

Keep smiling.

She can't resist my smile.

Now tell her I'm just trying to help.

Flash her that smile again.
She's walking away.

Works every time.

Straw Bandit

He waits for the moment.

He watches one of his brothers walk over to the refrigerator and open the door.

As they make their selection, he slides between them and the door, making it impossible to close.

They skip off, unconcerned with wasting electricity or what their little brother may get into.

He does the same thing every time he gets the chance to "play" in the fridge.

Pull the juice boxes out of the door, remove the straw, toss both on the floor and grab another juice. 

Repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

This is why no juice boxes in our house have straws attached.

They have all been retrieved from the floor and placed in the silverware drawers.

Drinking juice boxes around here is a two step process...grab a drink first, find a straw next.

Thanks to my busy, busy baby.

On a side note, this is what my sweetie's hair looks like in the morning.

It is a work of "bed head" art.

And it doesn't come easy.

It takes just the right amount of sweat and floundering around on a pillow for 10-12 hours to achieve this look.

Bead head at it's finest.

My Day as a Cattle Farmer

Last weekend I finally gave in to my husband's requests.  I got up really early (okay, it was 8:30, but to me, that's early), dressed all three boys, loaded them up, stopped for breakfast and arrived at one of our pastures promptly at 10:00.  "Working cows" was on the agenda and I agreed to bring the boys and come watch.  

Sam takes his role as "cowboy" very serious and he insisted on dressing the part.  

And my baby, wearing his Daddy's first cowboy boots, was in heaven.  This boy has become obsessed with cows and if you want to test his temper, pick him up to leave the pasture before he's ready.

My middle son is not pictured because at this point he is chasing the lone peacock that resides at this pasture.   Chasing him and offering him the remains of his sausage biscuit.

The work begins.  This pasture houses longhorns who, I learned, are a real pain to deal with. The guys chase them into an enclosed area.  This involves a lot of yelling and running around with your arms up in the air.  Apparently the "holding up of the arms" is a requirement when rounding up cattle.  

In the fence they go.

Then all the men try desperately to keep them in and shut the gate.  Apparently lowering one's self into a "near crouching" position is also protocol.

Failing to close the gate in a timely manner results in an escape.  And slight panic from the cattle wranglers.  The "hands on top of the head" is body language for, "Oh, &@#%. Not the truck!  Not the truck!"

Hands up.  A little more yelling.  And back in they go.

And another escape.

Arms up again.  A little more yelling.

And in they go.  Again.

And finally, they are loaded onto a trailer.

Now it's time to wrangle up the babies.  No need to run around with your arms in the air.  Simply chase the sweet, little calf over close enough to Poppa so he can rope him.

Once he's been roped, someone grabs the calf and carries him over to the trailer.

And when you see your fellow cattle hand struggling to hold onto the kicking calf, show him your appreciation by laughing at him as he hangs for dear life.

Now it's time to head back out into the large pasture and catch the long horn who never made it into the enclosed area.

I followed the guys, camera in hand, while Will hung back at the barn with G-Ma.  Sam and Jack followed behind me and I turned to discover a frightening sight.  Jack had picked up a whip that some cattleman (Jody) left lying on the ground.  Oh, the things that could go wrong with Jack wielding a whip.  The possibilities are endless.

I warned him not to "dare swing that thing at anybody" and continued to follow the guys out into the large pasture.  By now, the longhorn and calf were on the other side of the field and the guys were nearly as far.  I walked out a little further but had no desire to chase a stubborn cow and calf around.  I stood still, watching five men chase a cow and small calf around and around the pasture.

Sam and Jack ran off to join G-Ma and Will.  I stood alone, watching the chase.  This is the final picture taken of the chase.

It is the last picture because as soon as I took it, that very large longhorn saw me.  And began to run in my direction. Very fast.  See the horns on that cow?  They are large.  Very large.

So there I stood.  Too far away to make a dash for the fence.

Too far away to be rescued by any of the five gentlemen that had failed to catch the large animal that was now sprinting in my direction.

Sprinting.  Right.  At.  Me.

Thoughts began to flash through my mind.  The first thing I thought...Lane Frost.  For those of you who don't know Lane Frost, he is the famous bull rider the movie 8 Seconds is about.  He was killed after being gored by a bull's horn.

My next thought...should I drop my camera?  And run as fast as I can?  And see if my softball skills are still in tact by sliding head first under the electric fence?   I yelled, "JOOOODDDDDYYYYY!"

"AHHHHHHHH!"

"JOOOOODDDDDYYYY!"

"Just stand still," he yelled back at me.

My next thought..."Sweet, Jesus.  Please don't let this cow trample me to death in front of my children.  They really love cows and actually want to be cattle farmers when they grow up.  And I'm pretty sure watching a long horn bulldoze their Mama may throw a kink in that dream."

And in that instant, that spotted hussy sprinted past me.  And I think I heard her snicker.  I never really liked longhorns.

I'm more of a Jersey or Hereford girl.  Needless to say, that experience secured longhorns a permanent spot on the bottom of my cattle totem pole.

We headed to another pasture so the guys could worm, tag and band a few calves. I was given the job of writing on the tags. I have to earn my keep as the Vice President of Receipt Filing and T-Shirt Ordering for Five J's Cattle Company.  Into the chute they go.  Wormer is put on their back.  The male calves were banded, which is cattle lingo for a vasectomy.

Except with cows, the things that are banded eventually "die" from lack of blood and fall off.  Onto the ground.  Where people walk.  Including my children.  Nice.

And lastly they are tagged. With very,very large tags. Five J's buys it's ear tags on the Mr. T aisle of Tractor supply.

My job is done.  And now I've been officially named the Vice President of Ear Tag Labeling.  I see a raise in my future.

And the Winner Is...

Will:  1

Powdered Doughnut:  0

Two Weeks

Two weeks from today, he'll turn five.

And to say I'm having a hard time with it is an understatement.

It's killing me.

If I could forever keep him just like he is today, I would.

In an instant.

Stats

Crowded

When Daddy's out of town, this is how we do it.

The Party