We just started having the boys bring the big garbage cans in after garbage day. They are twice their size, but they LOVE doing it. Today as I drove into the driveway and saw the empty garbage cans ready to be brought in I asked Mr. Pres if he wanted to bring them in. He said, and I quote (and will quote again when he’s 13) “Oh PLEEEASE can I? Please oh please?”
Anyone know of a drug I can give them that makes this joyous desire to do chores stick? I’d bet even in this economy you could make a fortune on that kind of drug!

I had another grand Motherly Moment of Wisdom today that for some mothers would probably have been a no brainer, but not for me. I’m a little slow when it comes to stuff like this so I’m going out on a limb here sharing my thick headedness for all to read.

Today I was spending some quality time with Mr. President making banana bread. I wanted this to be a happy bonding time with no fighting, arguing or yelling, which for Pres and I is quite a feat! To do the mixing for our bread we used the kitchen aid mixer. This is over in the corner between the stove and the sink so when I bake with the boys, we have to crowd into the corner because moving the mixer is too hard as it’s so heavy. This was the case today and I kept getting really annoyed at Pres for pushing his way in to see the bowl and getting in my way constantly. I was just about to growl at him to stay back for a second when providentially a thought occurred to me. “Move the mixer to the other counter.” Those of you less block headed than myself would have seen this as glaringly obvious, but unfortunately such was not the case for me. And so I moved the mixer. I hefted it and all it’s heaviness over to the long counter where we could both be more comfortable and I wouldn’t get annoyed. Yes, it was heavy. But to have the rest of our time together be peaceful was well worth it.

How many other problems that I have with my kids could be cured just by simply “moving the mixer”? How many problems could be solved just by having a slight change in my point of view?

I’ll tell you what, though. I’ll move the mixer anytime for this cheeser grin.

All week long we’ve been doing “heart service” at our house. At any given time you could walk into your room to find a made bed, or cleaned up toys with a little heart left behind. Go Go has seriously gotten into this and several times I heard him run into the room and frantically shout, “Where are hearts?!!! I need to do some service!” Here’s our collection of service hearts.

This morning the boys found our dinning room Heart Attacked with strawberry covered waffles on the table. This was my “heart service” to the family today. Mr. President walked in and said in his typical derogatory tone, “Mom, why are there hearts everywhere?” Meaning, “Come on, mom, can’t you keep the place a little more picked up?” “It’s a HEART attack, Pres,” I tried to explain, “You know, hearts attacked our dinning room??…..nevermind.” It loses so much of the fun when you have to explain it as we often have to with Mr. Pres. Literal to a fault! Halfway through breakfast he finally said, “OHHH, I get it! HEART ATTACK!” Sigh. Hard work is wasted on the young. At least my hard work for my young. And as a final blow, Blue Jeans found unholy glee in tearing all the hearts off the walls and windows.

I’ve found it fun/interesting this time around to watch my youngest child learn what NO means. It is fascinating to watch them test and try their boundaries. So we have a little ritual now, Blue Jeans and I. He walks over to the outlet which has a cord plugged into it. He turns and looks at me with a sly little look to see if I’m watching. Then he reaches out his finger very slowly towards it and I say, “No.” He then looks down at it longingly, looks back at me and takes his hand away, but moves his body close enough to touch it with his belly, still watching me. I say, “No.” and then he tries his leg or some other body part other than his finger. At that point I go over and remove him from temptation. Invariably a while later we get to do the whole thing again. With Mr. President I probably would have gotten frustrated at the repetitiveness, but I don’t this time around. Mostly I find it funny. I hope that means I’m learning how to be a more relaxed mother. I finally caught the whole thing on video the other day. Enjoy our little Ritual.

Our new washer did not even make it through one week without problems and it will be going back to the nice store it came from soon. New fangled technology is not all it’s cracked up to be. At least this particular GE brand of front loader isn’t. 2.5 hours to wash a load of laundry just isn’t worth it to me. And of COURSE we found some reviews about this particular problem once we started having the problem. But had I seen these reviews, would it have deterred me? I don’t know. If I were to avoid every washer that had a bad review on it, I wouldn’t buy one at all! But I do need to do laundry, so it’s back to the drawing board. Front loader or top loader, front loader or top loader………

Today I felt a little like I’m sure people felt the first time they got a tv when they were first invented or like people felt the first time they used a computer when they first became available for the general public to use. Today I used my new Front Loader washing machine for the first time and it was… an interesting experience.

And if nothing else, at least the boys got some good cheap entertainment. Ok, so it wasn’t cheap. Sigh. Nope, wasn’t cheap.

The other day I watched as Go Go walked into the tv room to watch tv while reading a book. He then sat down in front of the tv, which was on, and read his book. I guess it made him feel better to be by the tv? He wanted to kill two birds with one stone? I don’t know. But about 20 minutes later he came running out of the tv room and ran down the hall still holding his book. He said over his shoulder “I’m going to exercise while I watch tv, Mom”. Amazed at his apparent ability to multi-task I asked him where he was going since the tv was in the OTHER room. As he disappeared around the corner he yelled back, I’m going to get another book! Ah. Of course. Definitely need a book while you’re exercising…while you’re watching tv.

Later that same day he was sitting on the couch looking at another book. I walked over to ask him if he wanted me to read it to him only to find that he was already halfway through the book and so I humbly sat down and let HIM read ME the book.

The other day a friend kindly offered to pick Mr. President up for a birthday party so that Blue Jeans could stay asleep for his nap. I gratefully accepted the offer. When the friend was about 10 minutes late, Pres started whining about being late to the party. Luckily I had the foresight to remind him NOT to say anything rude to my friend about being late, as, knowing his character that would be very likely. He then said, “But can’t I just ask her to be on time next time?” Uh, no. Definitely not. No. And of course as is also true to form he then started to question why this was not something he could do. Luckily my friend showed up at that point thus rescuing me from having to explain Social Grace #257 Don’t complain to people who are giving you a ride about the fact that they are late. Ironically enough, 3 days later I picked up Go Go’s preschool friend on the way to preschool and…was a few minutes late. She was in the car not two seconds when she asked, “How come you were so late?”. I laughed out loud and then gave her some flimsy excuse as to why I was indeed late, grateful that it was not just my child that would do such things. And of course I was not offended by her question any more than my friend would have been by Mr. President’s. But it got me thinking. At what point do we teach our kids social graces and put the “out of the mouth of babes” phrases away?