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This week’s challenge is for “completely candid” shots. I don’t know about other moms but having three boys and a very animated daughter, well, the hard part is NOT getting a candid sometimes.
This picture is one of my all-time favorites. The boys were just hanging out, munching on their morning apple snack. I love Monkey’s laughing face and Tiger’s somewhat melancholy look, the dirty bottoms of feet, the animal cups and the skinned up knees. Just seems to ooze boyhood and brothers to me. I realize the bottoms of feet are usually a no-no in photography but I think this picture proves it’s not a hard and fast rule… sometimes the bottoms of feet can reveal the charm of the moment.
In this case that’s dirt.
Have I mentioned I love I ♥ Faces? In case you missed it last week, I DO! We’re talking head over heels folks.
This week’s challenge is Sharing Our Summer Stories Through Photos. The one I’m sharing is of the kids playing with the hose in the backyard… go figure. It’s cheap, it’s cool, it’s exercise and it keeps the mess outdoors. Needless to say, we do it a lot. Plus, there’s an extra level of fun because Lucy, our 8 month old Boxer, just LOVES water. As we discovered on this particular day, she loves stealing sunbathing spots too.
The younger boys were the hardest hit. She just couldn’t leave their laid-out towels alone. She’d soak in the water and then dart over to claim a sun-warmed towel. The boys tried their best to move her. When that didn’t work, they tried to move the towel out from under her…
They quickly gave up that idea. They tried sharing the towel next….
When the smell of wet puppy got to overwhelming, they abandoned the fight altogether and opted for other, non-towel activities. Lucy grandstanded the victory just a tad…
The non-towel activities included: Mom’s sunglasses and, what we fondly refer to as, The Circus Bike…
Photographing Lucy’s tongue… (some of the shots were group efforts)
Looking glamorous and very NOT wet…
And rubbing the Towel Stealer’s wet belly…
Today was another milestone… the kind that catches you off guard and takes a minute to sink in but the ton of bricks come crashing out of the sky none the less.
Lil Blue doesn’t need a step-stool anymore. I watched today as he stretched up on his tippy toes and washed his hands at the bathroom sink. This event followed very closely on the heels of him being able to get up on and down off the toilet without his trusty little red side kick.
At first I was excited. No more step stool carrying through the house from one bathroom to the next. Hooray! No more stubbed Mama-toes during midnight bathroom trips in the dark. Hooray! No more precious floor space used up by our stout four-legged companion. Hooray!
But then I heard the faint roaring sound from above… like the distant roar of an approaching earthquake. It’s the dreaded sound of time marching on. It’s always there, in the background. We just usually drown out the sound with our business. Keep moving, keep moving, keep moving… only, we can never move faster than Time. Sometimes the roar of Time is disguised by the cheering and clapping around you as monumental event is applauded and rewarded. It’s even been known to go crashing by in our absence. Ever miss a child’s first step because of work? Or a first book ever read because of vacation? ‘Nough said.
Today I wanted to desperately to jam the lifetime supply of cotton balls from the nearby bathroom cupboard (does anyone else have the same bag of cotton balls that they bought 5 years ago?!) into my ears to drown out the rumbling of Time. If I don’t hear it, does it mean it’s moving? No more step-stool means no more chubby little feet stepping up for a little boost of height. No more half-naked (or all naked as the case may be) 2 year old noisily dragging the stool through the house just so he can “use your baffroom Mom”.
No more help from mom.
Now, that’s not totally true of course. But it’s how Time makes me feel today. I’m being phased out. It’s a good thing.
But it’s a sad thing.
So while I add the step-stool to the garage sale mountain pile, I’ll relish one of my few last bathroom mom-duties…
…. reaching the soap for him.
The girls and I had the baking bug today but it was just too hot to fire up the ol oven. So we decided to decorate marshmallows instead. All you need are some melting wafers (party or craft stores, about $2.50 for 1 lb bag), lollipop sticks, sprinkles and of course, marshmallows.
It was the perfect fix. No oven heat and the girls still got to dip, taste, dab, taste, spread, taste, sprinkle and taste to their little hearts’ delight.
And I might just have some time to blog now! I’ve missed you… I still go throughout my days thinking I should blog about this or that but somehow 5 bazillion things spring up between me and my computer. I have time to read other blogs or write on mine and well, you guys are much more interesting than me.
I’m hoping with the arrival of summer vacation my blogging will get back to “normal”. Although I’d like to take the time to point out that for the Runningamuck household, school is never really out. Because if we did, the dream of having 12 year olds taking college classes would have to die.
I’m just teasing folks. They’ll be 14 at least. Anything younger than that would be plain ridiculous.
Okay, okay! So in all seriousness, Hubby and I will be happy for college graduations before their 30… or we’re 80… we can’t be toooo picky after all. lol.
Some exciting things that have kept me busy lately? Besides schooling a 2nd grader, a kindergardener, a preschooler and keeping a 2 year old from getting the puppy in repeated headlocks that is.
We’re done with diapers! Can I get an “Amen?” !! I do the happy dance every time we walk through Target and don’t have to stop in the diaper department. Yes, my dancing embarrasses my children but their young, they don’t understand the joy I feel and they’ll heal from it. Or is it what doesn’t kill them will make them stronger? Hmmm….
Our four year old, Tiger, is now an official 2 wheeled bike rider. Actually, I can’t claim this one kept me busy. He taught himself… in FOUR days! I’m thinking if this is how it’s going to be from here on out, I need to prepare myself. And start tucking extra money away for medical bills and all kinds of sports equipment… both the norm and the extreme.
The PUPPY! Lucy has single-handedly destroyed every thing in our backyard. Let’s just say she loves her grown-up teeth. She’s been soooo good, trains easily and is very well behaved around people… it’s just the plants, flowers (she particularly enjoyed my snapdragons), weeds, wood, plastic toys, bikes pedals, sticks, flip flops, newspapers, sunglasses, sprinkler heads, etc. that have to fear her. I’m so ready for this stage to be over…
I’ve officially become a bake-a-holic. I knew I enjoyed being in the kitchen before but I’ve become a maniac the past couple months. I have to find “takers” now before I cook/bake so that it doesn’t sit in my house and get devoured by Hubby and I. My goal is to take more pics and share them and the recipes with you all.
I’ll end this post with a teaser…
Roasted Potatoes… ummm, I’m starting to drool just looking at it. I just love this recipe! The dill and other spices just make you want to inhale the whole bowl. Stay tuned for the recipe….
The other day I opened the bedroom door to check on my two older boys (5 and 4) who were supposed to be getting ready for bed. Oh how I wish I’d had the camera with me! Although, I wouldn’t have been able to share it here anyway. Because I opened that door to discover:
two stark-naked (or neked as Hubby would say) boys jumping off their dresser into a couple of beanbags on the floor… and laughing hysterically.
WHAT?!! As a girl, that absolutely astounds me. First of all, I would think that for a boy, doing anything naked involved as certain amount of risk to certain appendages. If you catch my drift. Add to that the uncomfortableness of sticky, fake-leather beanbags on the naked skin and then the danger of missingthose faux-leather beanbags and you can count me completely out of this activity.
I don’t get it. It’s just another piece of the boy puzzle in my opinion.
But man, were they having a blast.
My blogging friend Lisa is adding a third child to her family. While her sweet new addition is not a newborn but rather a 6 year old niece, a third child is a big adjustment no matter how you slice it. That would mean slicing of the situation, not the precious addition! Just to clarify. Lisa asked for tips and advice from those of us more-than-the-average-sized families. And since I feel somewhat qualified to offer up some insane advice (Hubby and I have four wonderful additions to our family) I thought I’d add my two cents. It has nothing to do with the fact she’s included a give-away… NOTHING… NOT. ONE. BIT.
Just so we’re clear.
I think the biggest ONE thing that helps me get through the day is ROUTINE. I know, I know. We all fight it. I still do on some days (like today for example… I’m still in my pjs and we’re about 30 minutes behind on everything). But it really is our best friend. Well, our best non-humanfriend. And that’s just a really weird sentence. It’s also the best thing for kids. They thrive on knowing what comes next, on the security of not having surprises everywhere they turn. So my first tip would be to create a schedule that works for your family. Make it as detailed or undetailed as you like. Just make something! It could be as simple as set timesfor meals, naps and bedtimes. Or as detailed as homework time, tv time, chore time, gardening time, shopping time, coming to my house and detailing my van time…
Just making sure you’re paying attention. But feel free to work that last one into your schedule.
Important note: STICK to your schedule. Obviously, things happen but I’m not talking about those crazy random days. On normal days, work hard at not letting anything disrupt the routine you have put in place. Otherwise, you’ll always be fighting to “get back on schedule” and that is no fun. I speak from experience. It’s what I’m battling today.
Second tip: Allow extra time. Since Lisa’s addition comes potty-trained, self-dressing (not that that’s always a good thing) and doesn’t need to be carried around, there may not be such a big difference in getting out the door with three kids as it was with two. But it might. And for me, it was a HUGE difference. For many months after Tiger (#3) was born, I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong… it just took waaayyyy to long to actually get kids out the door, loaded up and buckled in. And then I realized, there was nothing to be “fixed”. It was, sadly, just how long it takes to get three little ones out the door. Plain and simple. So I had to make adjustments and allow more time for getting out the door so as not to be 30 minutes late to every single thing I did.
Third tip: Share the load. Lisa can implement this right away. Divvy up the chores. Granted, a two year old can’t do much but my 7 year old loves to let him tag along and help her with her own chores. Two birds with one stone… she gets help and he’s learning how to do the chore! (She even created a sticker reward system for him when he helps her) For example, here is what my three older ones help out with around the house in the morning on a daily basis (just know that the two year old shadows everyone and helps here out as allowed).
7 year old: Wipe down bathroom sinks (clorox wipes – LOVE ‘EM!), empty dishwasher, makes bed and tidies her room
5 year old: Wipes down toilets (Clorox wipes again!), all levels (very important if you want to keep that stale pee-smell at bay. Sorry, it’s just things you learn with boys), helps unload dishwasher, makes is bed, tidies his room with his brothers and helps the 2 year old with his bed too.
(almost) 4 year old: Wipes down bathroom counters (say with me, “Clorox wipes!”), helps unload dishwasher, helps tidy his room with his brothers and makes his bed.
One thing to note, I monitor the wipes closely in the beginning. Let’s face it, they aren’t cheap. Even when bought at Sam’s Club. So I give strict instructions on how many are to be used on each surface. For instance, Monkey uses two per toilet. One for top surfaces (handle, lid and then top of seat… in that order. And the second is for the behind where the lid attaches, the underside of the seat and then the rim of the toilet… again, in that order. Call me a control-freak but I just hate to see stuff go to waste. Especially expensive stuff. So I guess that makes me a tight-wad AND a control-freak. Dang it!
Fourth tip: And my husband will laugh at this because some areas of my house are VERY unorganized! But some areas, like the bedrooms that siblings share, have to be organized. We have Poppett in her own room and the three boys in another. Obviously for gender reasons. So the boys room is always a challenge. It’s an average, small bedroom. I’ve already written how the we have worked the bed situation out… for now. We also have one dresser. It’s one with six drawers so each boy has two drawers. Hanging clothes are all separated by child and I have a different colored hanger for each child. I think that is a key tip, at least it is for me. Since all my boys are fairly close in size, it’s hard for them to know whose clothes are whose. But they all know their color so they just have to look for the group of clothes hung on their color of hanger. Second, when I’m hanging up the freshly cleaned clothes, I don’t have to look at clothes tags for sizes to know where that shirt needs to be hung. I just have to look at the hanger and I know instantly who’s shirt it is.
Toys… I have organized the group toys into stack-able bins that are kept in the boys closet. Individually owned toys are put in each boy’s toy “box”. For us, that means an old wooden ammo crate. Unfortunately, we only have two and Lil Blue is starting to need his own box. But we don’t have room to lay out another crate in the bedroom. So I’m on the lookout for another military-type way to organize three different sets of toys. I’m open to suggestions… My tip to Lisa would be, however she decides to organize toys in the shared bedroom, the boundaries must be clear. Make it easy to tell what toys are open to everyone and which ones aren’t. The less squabbling the better.
And there will be squabbling.
Oh! That reminds me. One last tip regarding toys. Our house rule is that if there is fighting over a toy, it automatically goes to the child who “owns” it. If anyone else wants it, they have to ask the “owner” who has the right to share or not to share. (of course we always encourage sharing but we want it to be a heart decision… not a coerced event) If kids are fighting over a group toy (one with no particular owner), neither gets to play with it. It’s called Share It or Lose It.
Just don’t ask me share my candy stash.
I’m sure I’ve lost most of you after the first paragraph… this is a mighty lengthy post. I apologize.
Lisa? Hope I helped. Here are some more related posts that might help….
I love boys. I love the energy, the rough and tumble, the need to show manliness in even the littlest tyke. Granted, at any given moment, the very same things that I love can drive me absolutely batty. But that has nothing to do with the boys. It has everything to do with me.
Just when I think I have my boys figured out, they do something else that throws me back to square one. Boys are just a big puzzle really. And the tricky part to this puzzle that is BOY is that there is no picture on the front of the box to base the piecing together by. The biggest hint I have is to look at my husband. He’s my only clue to what my boys’ puzzles are supposed to look.
Some pieces are easy to put together. Others – not so much. Some I have a heads’ up regarding thanks to moms of other boys who have bestowed their wealth of knowledge on to me. Some of those pieces included the fascination of all things related to bugs, dirt and noise.
The past couple months have introduced a new piece to the delightfully fun puzzle of BOY.
Mismatched pj’s.
My boys have decided that a perfectly matched, color coordinating pair of pj’s is not manly in the least. I’ve tried several things to discourage this way of thinking. I am female after all and every possible action must be taken to match whatever can possible be matched. And if not matched then at least color coordinated. So I’ve refolded the pj drawers ad nauseum. I’ve also tried rolling the matching tops and bottoms together so all they had to do was grab a rolled bundle and head to the shower.
Nope. My boys go to extreme measures to continue their manly fashion statements. They purposefully separate whatever I have carefully and securely placed together and mix and un-match to their hearts’ content. That leaves me flabbergasted. It’s a small detail to be sure. I don’t thinkit’s anything that’ll spark a life of crime in 15 years… right?! If I’m wrong please let me know ASAP. I’ll go back to stuffing their little arms and legs into their matching shark top and bottoms in a heartbeat. But as a female, I just don’t get it.
But I love not “getting it” sometimes. It amazes me how different God has created us. It’s one thing to see the differences in a grown man and a whole other thing to see the in-ate differences that boys just are… from the very beginning. I love it. How can you not? I don’t understand moms out there who strive to stifle the manliness in their boys. Some are oblivious to it and others do it on purpose.
Don’t get me wrong, I want my boys to be sensitive to the needs around them. I want them to always be looking for the underdog and seeking to include those left out.
But at the same time, I don’t want to raise men who’d rather sit back and let others jump into action to protect the weak, who won’t stand up to injustice and who don’t strive to show, through their own actions, God’s love to everyone. I want to raise men who aren’t afraid to lead their families and put their foot down with their own children.
So Hubby and I do our best to filter through those puzzle pieces… tossing the ones that don’t belong in the pictures of what we hope our boys will become and carefully matching up the pieces that do. Some pieces are too random at this point to connect with any of the others we already have. But we know they belong because they simply ARE Boy.
Pieces like mismatched pj’s.
