Hair Prayer

Lately Chase has been sporting a spiked up mohawk (really more of a faux hawk but don't tell him that). He is a totally cool tween these days, and is over the top because he earned an MP3 player by improving his grades this six weeks.
Last night when Noel was in the tub he asked Chris to give him a mohawk, and Chris explained he did not have enough hair to have a mohawk. Noel became somewhat distraught and asked "Why didn't Jesuse give me hair for a mohawk?"

Forgiving Friday

I don't make New Year's resolutions but I have decided to try to be more forgiving of myself this year. Maybe not forgiving but less rigid. For instance, if I blog erractically and don't have the perfect photo to go with my blog, that is o.k. If I buy cookies for the School Christmas party rather than homemaking them, I am not a bad parent. You get the idea.

So, therefore, I decided to pick up the blog again. And what a perfect time, as tonight marks Noel's first trip to the Emergency Room. He is actually there as I type this entry. After we finished a marathon game of hide and go seek, and were preparing the boys for bed, Noel took a big ol' swig of peroxide. Now, I am sure you are wondering how he accessed said peroxide. Well, of course there is a story there. Chase busted the inside of his lip on the trampoline and has been using the proxide he left the cup next to the bathroom sink. Noel has a terrible habit of drinking first and asking questions later.

To add some extra fun to this mix, I had just taken a presrciption muscle relaxer for a headache. Chris called Poison Control, who said to make him drink and that he would likely throw up (which he did several times) but if he did so repeatedly and was in a lot of pain to head to the ER. Since we are a good thirty minures away from said ER, we erred on the side of caution.

So there ya go. I am back, at least for today. And if it is only today, well, that is okay too.

2 out of 3

So, I had planned to write three funny Noel stories, as it turns out I can only think of two of them now that I have a spare moment to myself. So without further adieu or forgetfulness...

The first happend on Good Friday where, as Catholics, we venerate the cross. We do this by going forward in a line to kiss the feet of the crucified Jesus. As we went up Noel wanted to know what we were doing, so I told him we were kissing Jesus' boo-boos just like I did for him to make him feel better. Noel went up and dutifully kissed the feet of Christ, and as we walked back to our pew he loudly stated, "Jesus got bad boo-boos! How did Jesus get such bad boo-boos?"

The other little tale has been ongoing. Chris' sister is expecting her first baby any minute now. Everytime Noel sees her and we talk about the little boy in her tummy, he states that he has a little boy in his tummy. He has gotten more and more adamant about his little boy and the last time we were all together he insisted everyone be careful around his belly. He also told his Nanny that his baby was named "little Noel".

Hopefully, I will think of the other little funny and have a spare second to write it down. If not, there are plenty more where these came from.

An Easter Surprise!

If you knew me well, as the four people who follow this blog do. You would know I am the last person who would welcome a rodent into their house. So, I can honestly not explain what possessed me to decide to get the boys a bunny for Easter. Even more unlikely is the fact that Chris agreed to this wacky idea. So much so that all Chase could say all day is "I can't believe you got us a bunny, but I really can't believe Dad let you!"

Nevertheless, I became slightly obsessed with the notion of greeting the boys with their very own rabbit on Easter morning. So, a few phone calls and some internet research later and on

Saturday afternoon I picked up this little girl. I wanted to name her Maisy. Chase did not care for that, but offered Daisy. Noel wanted to name her Parker (coincidentally, his best friend's name).

The boys are totally infatuated. Buddy is not amused. And I am no longer the only girl in the house. Well, sort of, Daisy lives on the porch but comes in to hang out.

We had a wonderful Easter even though Chris' dad ended up in the hospital. We had much to be thankful for as his chest pain was not a heart attack but a warning sign of a blockage and as of this post he is recooperating at home.

And so it begins...

Last Thursday night Chase ran from the back of the house into the kitchen with a dramatic announcement. He has a mustache. Now, what he really has is the fuzz that every other person has on their upper lip. He insisted his was getting darker though and couldn't we see it? He then proceded to manuver his head around to try and catch the light just so. I finally admitted seeing "something" so the child would go to bed. Fast forward to Saturday when the family was preparing to head to the Mexican restaraunt. Chase comes from changing clothes into the living room with a look that can only be described as a mix of triumph and mischief. I immediately smell Chris' cologne. Yep, my nine year old was wearing Victoria's Secret's Very Sexy for Men. The next morning while getting ready for church he and his Dad argued over using the hair gel and once again I had a very good smelling son. Monday, being Monday, Chase barely managed to get out the door clothed much less go through his new grooming techniques. Alas, today though when I called for load up out ran Chase hair gelled into a faux hawk and smelling, you guessed it, Very Sexy. What the heck, two weeks ago I couldn't get the kid to take a bath!!! I am managing not to despair too much about this new found sense of maturity because Chase has taken to calling himself "Kid Cologne". As long as there is still "kid" in the title, I guess I will manage.

No One Likes Homework, but This is Ridiculous

I pulled Chase's homework folder out of his backpack last night to find this as his assignment. I immediately laughed until I cried. Fortunately, Chase was at soccer practice. Most parent's might be angry and alarmed at this, but I was certain it was just a spelling error. Chase is pretty sheltered at his little Christian school and is a notoriously bad speller. Sure enough, when he got home and I asked him what his reading homework was he said a "reading sheet".

The funny thing is his teacher checks to make sure they have written their assignments down, and has signed off on his paper. She has a great sense of humor so I sent her a funny note and am looking forward to her response.

I guess it is only a matter of time before I have to worry about language like this used on purpose. He is definitely getting bolder using "fart" instead of our preferred "toot". And then passionately arguing there is nothing wrong with that. I told you he was sheltered. He has also been nonchalantly throwing around the correct term for the male anatomy. It is incredibly hard to keep a straight face when your child is telling you that penis is a "biological term". I finally explained that, biology aside, it isn't a term you randomly bring up in conversation. And the adventures in the rearing of boys continues...

I Have it in Writing.

Noel is officially potty trained! I say officially because it is now on the potty chart at daycare. He has been doing a great job going to the potty for the last two and a half weeks. All it took, was peer pressure. His best friend is the other child who is potty trained on the chart. The week he came to school in big boy underwear, Noel demanded to start wearing it too. It was as easy as that. He is still sleeping in a diaper at night, and wakes up wet about half the time. I can live with that. So far we have had to pull over on the side of the road once and made Chase late for school once, but I suppose that is a fair trade to be finished with diaper duty.

The really strange thing is, unless Chris has a major change of heart or God totally intervenes, I may be done with diapers for good. I can't decide how I feel about that. Not the literal diapers part, but the fact I may never have another baby. Noel makes it very clear he is a "big boy" even if I am just lovingly calling him my baby. However, I am not so sure how he would truly feel about having that position usurped. The truth is, it is not mine to worry about, and I am sure God is shaking is head at me after teaching me that so clearly 3 or so years ago. So, for now I will enjoy my big boys and my respite from purchasing and changing diapers.