Just Me and My Boy

I feel pretty sheepish about posting this blog post after declaring Leif to be my favourite child the other day because, in all honesty, I do not have a favourite; he just happens to be the easiest to get along with right  now, and so . . .  well . . . okay . . . so yeah, he is my favourite . . . at the moment . . . tee hee! But . . . yeah . . . um . . . well . . . okay, just because he is my favourite does not mean he gets special treatment, or does it? Oh my goodness, I should just end this right here.

Anyhoo . . .

At 3am, I heard Harriet cry out for me. I ran into her room, assured her I was there, and as I curled up beside her, I realized she was feverish. Ugh. I took her out to the living room because by this point, after giving her some Tylenol, she was wide awake. I put Paw Patrol on for her, and then I lightly snoozed on the couch beside her, as she nudged me awake whenever an episode would finish. When my alarm went off to wake up the boys, I discovered that Elliot was sick too. Double ugh. I think, at this point, it is safe to say that our house simply needs to be quarantined for public safety. Just say'n.

Leif, however, woke up chipper as usual, and since Elliot was home and I could leave Harriet with him, I decided to take him to school even though I am pretty sure I could have nailed an audition for the Walking Dead at that moment. As I was putting Leif's jacket on, he seemed concerned that Harriet was nowhere to be seen. I assured him that Harriet was going to be okay and that she was just staying home because she did not feel well.

Really? You mean, it is just going to be me and you this morning.

Yep.

Yay!

And then he skipped out to the van, singing:

Just me and my mom. Just me and my mom. Just me and my mom.

Is there any doubt as to why he is my favourite . . . er, for the moment. tee hee!

During the entire drive to preschool, Leif continued to comment on how special this morning was because it was "just me and my mom". And it got me thinking: since Harriet was born, Leif and I have had very little one-on-one time together. In fact, ever since Leif was born, he has been lumped into a collective, which is apparent from the pet names I chose for him: Thing 4 or the wee-est Webster. Once Harriet came along, they became a package deal. Now, I have not gone so far as to call them Larriet or Heif  . . . yet,  but I do refer to them as the dynamic duo, the dastardly duo (depending on how I feel about them at a particular moment), the two under two crew, the babies and my minions. It is never just Leif, and since I found out he is going to school in the fall, I have been thinking more about Leif as an individual. He is NOT simply one of the babies; he is Leif Christian Webster. Oh, and since I tend to use my blog as a public confessional for all of my motherly transgressions, you should know that I, literally, forgot he was Leif Christian Webster the other day, while I filled out his kindergarten registration form. I kid you not. In the space to enter his full name, I wrote:

Leif Derrick Kurt Webster

Then, I paused - something did not seem right. That was Avery's middle name. I wouldn't have used the same middle name for Leif, or would I? Well, much to my dismay, I had to retrieve Leif's birth certificate to find out his middle name. Seriously. Ugh. 

Anyhoo . . .

I am not very good at doing mommy dates with my kids, and so this morning, I decided to change that. Leif was so thrilled with our 11 minute drive to school that I figured he would really lose his mind with an actual hour or two. Just before I left to pick Leif back up, I put Harriet down for a nap and told Elliot to listen for her. Then, as Leif was preparing to leave preschool, I whispered in his ear:

Do you want to go on a date with just mom?

YES!

I am going to take you to my favourite burger place.

McDonald's?

Oh, how I wish I could insert emojis into the blog because the rolling eye emoji was created for this very moment.

Nope, but I will show you.

The St. James Burger and Chip, Co., 

aka the home of my favourite burger of all time: the Perogy cheeseburger.

It is heavenly! And yes, I finish it off every single time.

 

So, over some super delicious burgers and a couple of pops, Leif told me all about the sword game he played with his friends Bryer and Oliver at preschool that morning. When asked how you play that game, he replied:

Well, you kill other humans to get their buried treasure. 

Right. Why did I ask?

Then he showed me his magic skills by making the bouncy ball, which he had earned from Teacher Suzan for cleaning up ten times without complaining, disappear. We made faces, we laughed at each other trying to eat our ginormous burgers, and in between Orange Crush burps (his name for them), he tried to see his orange tongue without a mirror. But even more special, in between all those moments of silliness we shared, there were a lot of quiet moments, moments where we just sat side by side, enjoying the sun streaming through the windows, watching the planes fly in for a landing at the airport, nearby, listening to Ed Sheeran on the radio, and in those moments, it truly was just "me and my boy".

And because the gods were clearly smiling upon us this afternoon, after we checked out some books at the library just before we returned home, the librarian gave Leif a handful of balloons for him and Harriet to share. 

Day made.

The Golden Boy

I am crushing pretty hard on this one lately. 

Mind you, he has had next to no competition lately. The Big Three (yes, I am currently obsessed with This is Us too) want nothing to do with their "loser" mom. In fact, I texted Baby Girl tonight to see if she wanted to Facetime, and I got:

I'm at a fashion show. Bye.

She is living large in Toronto and is way too cool for her mama.

And the boys . . . well, I have one word for you:

Teenagers.

And Harriet? 

My dear, sweet Harriet is smack-dab in the middle of the Terrible Two's and rotates between two emotions every thirty seconds:

Indignation

Elation

repeat

Quite frankly, it is terrifying and exhausting.

So, yeah, Leif is the golden child right now. He is obsessed with his Playmobil action figures, and can play with them for hours on end, which makes me giddy because up until last year, if he was occupied for any amount of time longer than five minutes, it meant he was into something he should not be into, like: Vaseline, Zincofax, dish detergent, etc. The list was long and super messy.

 And he is so funny right now without even trying to be funny. If we drive anywhere longer than five minutes, he asks if we are still on planet earth. It always cracks me up, and I want nothing more than to reply:

I am, but I have no clue where you are at the moment.

He is not getting the whole concept of a city, within a province, within a country, within a continent, and so on. He is convinced his grandparents live on a completely different planet.

And I love getting sneak peeks into how he perceives the world.  The other day, while we were driving his friend to our house, his friend asked:

Is this your house?

Yep. We live here now. We used to live in a blue house, but our neighbours moved in and so we needed to find a new place.

hahahahahaha!

Not quite, but it blows my mind that he even remembers the colour of our old house. He was two when we lived there!

And I love that he loves words almost as much as I do. As he was decorating one of  his planes with stickers this afternoon, he says:

My friends are going to be so impressed with this plane, mom.

It is really nice, Leif.

I would actually say it is handsome and cool . . .

and then he paused . . .

just like me!

Then, along with his million-dollar smile, he let out the biggest giggle.

Yep, I am pretty smitten.

Perhaps I can send Harriet to kindergarten next year and keep this one home with me . . . just kidding.

Or am I?

my life at the moment . . . and yes, feel free to be jealous . . . NOT!

let's all go back to that warm, fuzzy moment leif and i shared last week when he pooped in the potty all by himself; we hugged, we kissed, we cried tears of joy and we were full of hope that this potty-training business was going to be a breeze. we saw the light at the end of the dark, smelly tunnel that is potty training and we were jubilant. hooray! we made it!

now, let's fast forward to one week later, where i am kneeling on all fours cleaning a poop land mine left behind in the bathroom by my adorable toddler, who was screaming;

i am scared to poop in the potty! i am scared . . .

while mr. level-headed, the love of my life, is cleaning poop off the sole's of his beloved, beautiful bride's feet.

insert wide-eyed emoji here

seriously. this is my life at the moment. both cushions have been removed from the couch because they need to be burned . . . er, cleaned and every pair of toddler underwear and pants we own are in the washing machine, along with socks and sneakers.

i guess you could say that potty-training is not going so well. yeah, not so well. i have decided tonight after cleaning up yet another poop bombshell off the living room floor that we are going back to diapers tomorrow, and he can toilet train himself when he is sixteen. i figure once he becomes interested in girls then it should be a breeze for him. this mama is done!

and since i am already airing out my dirty laundry (in more ways than one), let's share another warm, fuzzy story; yesterday, as my darling family was driving home from church, enlightened and uplifted after feasting upon the spiritual stories shared by those striving to live like jesus and feeling a burning desire in our own hearts to carry on, to not give up and to do all we can to be more like our beloved savior, jesus christ, the boys started fighting.

you're an idiot.

at least i'm an idiot with friends.

and so on and so on.

and then, since mr. level-headed and i were actively trying to ignore their foolishness and desperately trying to maintain some level of sabbath day reverence, leif took matters into this own hands;

SHUT UP, boys! SHUT UP!

mr. level-headed and i looked at each other in disbelief. he started laughing and i wanted to cry. 

leif! you don't talk like that!

but mom . . .

no . . . you ask the boys to be quiet.

but they are being loud.

i know they are being loud, but you do not talk like that.

but mom . . .

leif, you ask them to be quiet.

but mom . . .

what leif? 

i just really need them to shut up.

oh. my. land.

and there you have it folks: my life. 

he may not like using the potty, but he is definitely very comfortable with being a potty mouth.

i would love to end this post by saying: "at least he's smart", but since he is explaining to me how this boy cow makes milk for all the other animals at the farm in this picture, i guess i will just close with my usual;

thank heavens, he is cute.

. . . tee hee!

The Storyteller

I love toddlers! Sure, they are wild, and crazy, and volatile, and stubborn, and downright difficult at times, but that is all part of their charm and let me tell you, Leif is charming. I swear he has me cast under his spell because no matter how much I want to throttle him when he does something foolish like eat his brother's deodorant and then throw it up all over the floor or colour over every inch of my walls in brown crayon, in the next breath all I want to do is smother him in kisses and cast my own spell over him so that he will stay exactly like he is . . . right now . . . forever and ever and ever. Since I have been unsuccessful at tapping into my inner witch and, like the rest of my children, this tiny bundle of energy, mischief and curiosity is bound to grow up on me, I am left trying to bottle up the moments we share on the ol' blog.

So, here goes . . .

Tonight, as Leif and I sat on his tiny bed in the corner of my room reading stories, he decided to tell me his very own story, complete with actions.

Mom, what is this?

Leif flipped through the books beside his bed and pretended to pick something up. I could tell it was tiny.

It's a key! It fell from the sky.

I asked him what the key was for.

To that door . . .

As he pointed across the room.

What do you think is behind the door, Leif?

Fishes and oh, look a lion! The lion runs fast, mom. Oh, he jumped up to the sky! We need a ladder. 

Where is the ladder, Leif?

Oh, no! The monster has it. Wait! I see the monster's feet.

Are those his footprints, Leif?

Yes, they are his feet. And there's the giraffe's feet.

Where do they lead?

In there . . .

As he points to the bathroom.

What are the monster and the giraffe doing in the bathroom?

They are playing with a star.

Oh! Is it a bright star?

Yeah. Juice, mom?

Are you ready for your juice, Leif?

Yes.

And that was it; Leif's first story.

Perhaps he will be our writer. 

Does He Have Any Clue?

Leif is really enjoying life right now. We are finally feeling better after battling what must have been three different illnesses over the course of a month, and we have settled nicely back into our routine. We wake up at 6am and spend the next two hours getting everybody ready for their day. Leif no longer cries when the kids go out the door, but rather, he cheerfully waves them off and gets busy pulling out his toys. You can almost hear him sigh as they shut the door:

Finally. Mom is all mine once again.

We spend the next two hours, emptying the dishwasher, gathering laundry, playing toys and going out on the back deck to scoop up dried beans in his new pail that the Easter Bunny left him. Around 10am, he is ready for a sleep and so is mama. I typically snooze with him for the first hour, oh yes, I said the first hour. Then I use the remaining two hours that he sleeps (please don't hate me!) to shower and catch up on some chores (or pinterest . . . tee hee!)  When he wakes up, Leif is ready for lunch and then a bath. Once those events are over and yes, if you have ever had a toddler, you know that meal time and tubby time are indeed events, Leif is ready to play outside again. By 2:30pm, the boys return and our peaceful routine comes to a crashing halt, but by then, Leif and I are both ready for life to become a little more interesting and intense.

I cherish the quiet ebb and flow of mine and Leif's days together. They are precious to me and I am cannot help but worry that they are about to come to an abrupt end. I start my third trimester this week and yesterday, I was given my c-section date: June 23 . . . eeeeek! In 10 weeks and 6 days we will become a family of 7! Seven!!! It even sounds crazy! And as excited as I am to be welcoming a new member into Shenanigans Inc, I am sad to say goodbye to our current routine. Sure, a new routine will eventually be adopted and I will be enraptured with spending my days with two babies rather than one, but it makes me a little sad to look at Leif and think:

You have no idea, but your world is about to be turned upside down.

Or does he know?

Thing 5 loves to kick Leif while he is nursing, and this week, Leif finally noticed. He will be happily nursing away when all of a sudden he will get a giant kick to the stomach. Before, Leif did not appear to pay any attention to these nudges, but now that they are getting stronger, Leif definitely is stopping and taking notice. He will pause for a moment and then give me the cutest grin. At first I thought he assumed it was me, but now I am not so sure. He has also suddenly become fascinated with my growing belly, and he insists on rubbing it, and nuzzling up close to it. At first, I thought he was simply in awe with what he thought might be a giant, new boob, but then it occurred to me that he might know that this is where is his new baby brother or sister is. You can't deny that babies are amazing little critters and I swear they know more, and remember lots, of where they came from and what is going on. Now, when Leif asks me to lift up my shirt and he lovingly curls up with my belly, I tell myself that yes, Leif does know. He knows exactly what is about to happen and he couldn't be happier.

My babies . . . I am one very lucky mama!

Parenting the Second Time Around

Being pregnant and caring for a toddler are not the easiest things to do when you are pushing forty. Especially, if this is not your first time around and you have older teenagers who still require lots of parenting; however, I have to say, although it is more physically challenging, it is definitely more rewarding. Parenting in my twenties looked very different from what it looks like today. My energetic, twenty-something body needed to move, needed to be actively immersed in something productive, and craved social companionship. My spirit was eager to experience all that the world had to offer me and so being a part-time student while parenting three children under the age of six made sense. I needed it. It was good for me . . . then. 

My almost forty-something body wants nothing to do with all that nonsense, and although, I am sure my first three children benefited from having an energetic, enthusiastic, youthful mom, I am equally sure that Leif and Thing 5 will benefit from having a mom that is more patient, more quiet, and more present. Afterall, I truly believe that children come when they are suppose to come; I don't believe in accidents or mistakes, only opportunities.

This morning was one of those moments when I adored being an older mom. After the kids went off to school, Leif and I ate breakfast. It was not rushed. We did not have to be anywhere anytime soon, so we sat quietly side by side enjoying the warm sun streaming through the patio doors and our yummy bowls of Life cereal. When Leif was done, he asked to nurse (he signs milk and it is adorable). 

Time for milkies?

And like always, a smile erupted from his face and he clapped. I picked him up, washed off his face and hands, and headed for our big, comfy chair, where Scout curled up at my feet on the footstool. He nursed for about twenty minutes and then decided it was time to play trucks. We pulled his favourite garbage truck off the shelf and filled it with blocks and then scooted it around the floor. After about fifteen minutes, he was done with that, and we moved onto balls. Then it was time to nurse again. Then it was time to play trucks again. Oh, wait, where is the ball now? And back to nursing. 

I swear this rotation went on for about an hour.

Thankfully, he then decided it was time to read books. After a few books and a couple rousing rounds of This Little Piggy, he was ready to nurse again. When he was done nursing, and yes, my toddler is a boobie addict and I fear Thing 5 may have to be bottle-fed, he was just about to go for the trucks again, when this wise mama came up with a new idea - crafts! So, we glued some fuzzy balls onto construction paper, we ate some glue (not too much and more him than me), we tore the fuzzy balls off the paper, and we covered our hands in stickers. Then . . . you guessed it . . . it was time to nurse . . . tee hee!

Read books

Play trucks

Nurse

Kick balls

Throw now-glue-smeared, fuzzy balls onto the floor

Nurse

And finally, Leif was ready for his nap.

Now, if you read this post and had an overwhelming urge to knock your head against the wall, I get it. I was there once, in my twenties. Now, in my almost forties, these mornings are magical. They are quiet. They are peaceful, and they are ours. The greatest thing about being a mom for the second time around is that you gain perspective. There will be plenty of busy moments with Leif, where I am driving him to his soccer practices, doing school projects with him and forcing him, er I mean encouraging, him to practice the piano, but for now, all he needs, all he wants is me, right there beside him  . . .  and maybe a few balls and a stick of glue.

I can't think of anywhere else I would rather be.

Trouble with a Capital "T"

Leif, Leif, Leif . . .

Let's just say that last week was exhausting! It seems that God really does make the bad ones cute because as you proved this week, your off-the-charts cuteness is matched only to your off-the-charts love for all things mischievous. Don't believe me? Well, I've got proof, and lots of it . . .

So, I went back to bathing you in the sink. I thought this would be an ideal set up because you have been trying to climb out of your baby tub and the sink is deeper. For some reason, I thought this would make it harder for you to stand up, and like so many other times in my life, I was wrong.

Not only were you able to stand up, but you were also able to throw plastic cups from the counter onto your poor, unsuspecting Scouty . . . I kid you not!

Just look at this face! I should have known you were on the brink of stirring up some shenanigans.

 At least when you are in the sink you are at somewhat confined (even though at times it is like wrestling a greased piglet). Now that you are mobile, and moving much faster I must add, there is no end to the trouble you can stir up. You continue to throw the books off the bookshelves and to play in the dog's dish, but new to this week was climbing into the dishwasher . . . I kid you not! and pulling out the dishes, clean or dirty. 

And getting into the clean laundry, which wasn't so clean after you scrubbed our fur-covered floor with it.

I blame the black diaper . . .

Then to top it all off, you have started to bite your siblings! Nooooooooooooo! Please don't be a biter, baby. Please. Avery was, and your mama found that very stressful. Thankfully, though, in spite of the little hell-raiser that was spawned this week, you are so incredibly scrumptious that I often forget all about your mischievous antics during moments like this:

When you fell asleep on my lap at Grammie's

When we shared a peach for supper on the soccer field:

And when you tasted one of the plums from our very own plum tree for the first time. I should also mention that this is the first time since we moved into our house six years ago that this tree has produced fruit. I figure it was just for you!

So, I think it is safe to say I plan on keeping ya . . . for now . . . tee hee!

A Few Laughs

I am so grateful for the utterly ridiculous moments in our life because they break up the monotony of  my day: let the dog out, make a meal, wash the dishes, change a diaper, nurse the baby, let the dog in, teach a lesson, wash some laundry, mark a few lessons, let the dog out, make another meal, wash some more dishes, change another diaper, nurse the baby, dry some laundry . . . you get the picture. Luckily for me, spending my days with four kids and a dog means there are plenty of ridiculous moments, and I am still laughing about one that happened yesterday:

Leif was sleeping in his crib. Avery was downstairs playing Lego, Zoe was lying on the couch working on her math lesson, and Elliot was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up his grammar exercise for the day. I was standing at the kitchen counter, mixing up a new chicken recipe for supper. As I stared out the window, happy to see the sun shining and all the slushy puddles of ice melting in the driveway, I marveled at how quiet and peaceful the house was, and I thought to myself:

Wow! It is so peaceful. This has to be the best moment of the day.

Then all of a sudden, Elliot jumped out of his seat and screamed:

How is a man supposed to work in these conditions!

and he stormed off into his room.

. . .  what!?

Okay, so maybe you had to be here to truly appreciate the hilarity of the situation, or spend your days all by your lonesome with four kids and a dog, but for me, this was priceless and made my Monday just that much more tolerable.

Here are some other notable moments from the past few weeks:

Bowling:

(at first Leif found the lights and sounds too much)

But, then he decided it was all good.

Playing outside:

Waiting in the car for Elliot to finish up his gym class:

Potty training:

Singing a little Guns n' Roses:

Playing dress-up to the tune of "I Like Big Butts"

 and channeling our inner nerd and wearing sweater vests to church:

Yep, I really like our kind of monotony.

What We've Been Up To Lately

My poor neglected blog. In spite of all the cool things we have done lately and all the adorable outfits Leif has adorn, I cannot seem to find a half an hour a day to get onto the computer and capture these moments, and that makes me sad. I wish I could bottle every second of our life, even the ugly moments, because right now I have all four of my babies home with me, and, unfortunately, this cannot last forever.

But, here I am: it is March Break so there are no lessons to be taught, the baby is bathed and in his brothers' arms, and my dishes are neatly stacked on the counter ready to be washed . . .  I think, just maybe, I can get 'er done. Let"s go!

First of all, Leif is beginning to look more and more like his daddy.

Leif:

Derrick:

Leif has even decided to suck on the exact same two fingers that his daddy did when he was just a wee Webster. How funny is that? Who knew that genetics also determined finger sucking?

Leif is really starting to notice his toys, and he loves playing with them! He also loves being read to, and his favourite book is "Noisy Farm". This is a gigantic board book with close up pics of animals and the sounds they make. We read it every morning, right after his bath and right before he goes down for his first nap.

Leif's favourite toy of the moment:

This face!

The boys still invade our bedroom each and every morning to hang out with Leif before our day starts. Leif loves to sit propped up against a pillow (or his mama's legs) and carry on conversations with Elliot at this time. It is the cutest thing in the world!

Look at me, sitting like a big boy!

Really? Wow! That is fascinating.

 

Okay, that is downright terrifying!

But, did you hear this one . . .

Last week the big kids at Shenanigans Inc. participated in the Fundy Home Educator's Science Fair. It was a lot of fun, and I was very proud of my munchkins for the cool projects they did.

Avery wanted to find out what kind of music babies like best so he used Leif and his baby cousin, Ava, as lab rats. In the end, he discovered they liked pop music the best and that babies are not the most cooperative lab rats . . . tee hee!

Zoe researched what type of music bacteria like the best. She grew five specimens of bacteria and hooked four of them up to speakers with different types of music playing for an entire week. In the end, she discovered that pop music was the favourite since it increased the bacteria's rate of growth. After Zoe reported her findings, Avery quickly pointed out that babies and bacteria have a lot in common . . . tee hee!

Elliot's project was called "Does Practice Make Perfect?" and he tested to see if physical practice, mental practice or no practice at all would benefit people the mostwhen learning how to shoot a bow and arrow. He invited my family over one evening and put us into three groups. It was a very cold night, Ava was having one of her colicky episodes, and none of us could shoot a bow and arrow, but in the end, we were all laughing, we ate some yummy spaghetti, and we learned that if you do not have much time to learn a skill that mental practice (visualizing) is your best option.

After the science fair and the kids all received their participation certificates, my munchkins looked at me in horror:

What?! There was no first place, second place or third place? What kind of science fair is this?  Well, that was a waste of time!

. . . tee hee! My kids are sooooo competitive!

Also, this past week saw . . .

Leif playing with his cousin Ava. Okay, so he cried every time he looked at her for the first hour of their visit . . . he is such a funny kid!

Loving our AppleCheeks! And yes, Ava is a whole month younger than Leif . . . tee hee!  

Leif not napping. Thank heavens this ended around the same time his evening marathon nursing sessions ended (about four days) because that was no fun at all!

Leif exploring his inner hip hop artist:

Leif hanging out on the side of our chair (his new favourite spot because it makes him feel like a big boy)

And finally, Leif rockin' his new mocs!

Aren't they adorable! Thanks so much, Jess!

Sorry you had to endure all that, but I could not let any of these moments pass me by.  Happy March Break!