Three Boys

This weekend, our good friends Jess and Pat and their baby came to visit us.  On Saturday evening, Jess and Pat would be going to a wedding and we'd be seeing how well we manage three boys.  (Verdict:  Two boys are easier than three boys.  Although to be fair, the baby was not the challenge.) 

During the day, Jess and Pat had several errands to run.  As the evening grew closer and they still weren't back, I said to David, "I'm surprised they aren't back yet!  I wonder what time the wedding starts."

Cameron piped up.  "Yep,  They've obviously been caught by the police or something!"

Fortunately, they had not been apprehended and in fact arrived at our house shortly thereafter.  Matthew was thrilled that the baby would be spending the evening with us, as he found this tiny creature fascinating.  "Look, Mama!  Baby has a belly!  Look, Mama!  Baby has ears!  Look, Mama!  Baby has a nose!"  But then, the baby grinned a gummy smile and drooled.  "EEEEWWWWWWW!!!" shrieked Matthew.  "Baby just . . . just kinda . . . spit . . . or someting!"  Matthew was horrified by this behavior but before too long the baby had won him back by rolling over and babbling.

On Sunday morning, the boys lurked near the guest room, reporting on their observations.  "I hear da baby!  He's crying!  Ohhh, he wants his mama."  After a while, it became too much to bear and Matthew begged us to go in their room.

"No Matthew," said David.  "We need to give them their privacy."

Matthew pointed authoritatively at the bathroom and said, with great frustration, "They not IN the privacy, Daddy!"

Everybody Has a Price

As Easter approaches, we have once again given Cameron a bean bowl. When he does something good, he is rewarded with a bean -- this year we went with navy beans. On Easter, the Easter Bunny exchanges all the navy beans for jelly beans. We had found the bean bowl to be extremely motivational for a preschooler.

For the past several days, Cameron has made his bed without prompting, put his clothes in the laundry basket and generally been quite helpful. He even told me his favorite part of the day was "cleaning my room so I get more beans." So, yesterday afternoon, I was changing Matthew's diaper. It happened to be a dirty diaper and it also happened to be a disposable diaper as all the cloth dipes were in the washer. Cameron walked in mid-change and commented "Ewwww!"

"Hey Cameron," I teased, "throw this dirty diaper in the trash for me, OK?"

"No WAY!" he answered.

"You'll get a bean," I said.

"I wouldn't touch a dirty diaper for A MILLION beans!"

"Ohhh, too bad," I replied. "Throwing away a dirty diaper is worth 47 beans."

Now, I just threw this number out randomly, without really thinking. I honestly didn't think that Cameron would touch that diaper for any number of beans.

"Disgusting," Cameron commented and left the room. A few minutes later, as I was finished up, Cameron walked back in the room. He had a look of resignation on his face and he was holding a piece of paper. He walked swiftly to the dirty diaper, used the paper to pick it up, and held it out far from his body. "Ugh!" he cried, as he ran to the garage to put the diaper in the trash. "Oh, I am NEVER doing that again!" He washed his hands vigorously. "It felt all SQUISHY! I need my 47 beans. Right? I get 47 beans, right Mommy? I am not EVER touching a diaper again until I am a GROWN-UP!"

He's excited by the rapid growth of his bean fund, but I think he is still questioning if it was worth it.

Foul Play

Matthew is smart. Deducing that his pleas for a "BAT, BAT, BABY BAT!" were ineffective, he apparently began to mull over new strategies to get himself in the bathtub as often as possible. When I forgot to put a bib on him, he knew the time to act was now. Grabbing the spoon, he scooped up as much Whole Soy Peach yogurt as he could and glopped it on his face. As I ran for the papertowels, he quickly abandoned the spoon and instead filled his hands. With a sadistic grin, he raised his hand above his head, hovering inches from his curls. He knows my weakness -- faces can be wiped clean, Matthew's curls can not. You could almost hear him thinking, "One step closer and I'll do it! I will! Don't mess with me, woman, I will smear this yogurt all over my head."

To poop or not to poop, that is the question

So, you know how magazines like Cosmo have quizzes like "Should you date him or ditch him?" and "What's your love language?" I think Matthew must be subscribing to some kind of baby magazine that I've yet to discover. (Note to self: Check under crib matress.) I'm pretty sure he takes a quiz that goes like this:

1. You are currently wearing:
a. a disposable diaper and an old onesie
b. a cloth diaper and a sleeper
c. a cloth diaper and a brand new, multi-piece outfit

2. Your mother has just:
a. wished she had SOMETHING to clean
b. started a load of your laundry
c. gotten out of the shower and started a load of your laundry while still in her bathrobe

3. Your mother's upcoming plans include:
a. doing nothing.
b. eating.
c. leaving for an appointment or taking your brother to school.

Scoring: Give 0 points for every "a" answer. Give 1 point for every "b" answer. Give 2 points for every "c" answer.

If you total points are 0 - 1, you should definitely not poop. If your total is 2-3, you should poop. If your total is 4-5, you should have a major blow-out soiling all your clothing. If your total is 6, soil all your clothing as well as something your mother is wearing.

It all seems so normal now . . .

As I was cleaning pee out of Matthew's ear . . . STOP. Did that phrase get your attention? If so, I would bet that you are not the parent of a small boy. A parent of a small boy would find cleaning pee out of an ear a pretty mundane event, I dare say.

So, anyway, as I was cleaning pee out of Matthew's ear, I was thinking how different life is pre- and post-babies. Before having kids, I can say with great certainty that I had never cleaned pee out of anyone's ear. Other things that seem normal now, but were not pre-kiddos:

- realizing in the middle of an adult function that I am wearing a noodle necklace
- hearing the mail arrive and thinking, "Ooooh, I hope it is the Happi Tummi gas relief band!"
- responding to the call "Come see what I did!" from the bathroom

Worth it? 100%.

Oh, and by the way, chocolate pudding is really yummy and really fun!