switcheroo

i've recently had to put a security lock on my ipad.  our two children are obsessed with it, and after finding them hunched over the thing in darkened corners of random rooms of our house like drug addicts trying to get their fix, i figured the easiest thing to do would be to require a passcode before using it.  problem solved, right?

not so fast.  because for some reason, even without knowing the passcode, there's one feature that they can still access: the pictures.  (i'm sure that this feature can also be disabled; i just haven't gotten around to figuring out how.)  so i will still find my two small people hunched over the thing in darkened corners of random rooms of our house like drug addicts trying to get their fix, but at least now all they can do is peruse the photo gallery.

you'd think this wouldn't be all that enthralling.  you would be wrong.

and i have to say -- i actually don't mind.   it's a fun way to take a trip down memory lane, even if the memories aren't all that old.  this evening found them on the couch in the family room while a thunderstorm raged outside, howling with belly laughs.  "mommy!"  they shrieked.  "remember when we did this?"

and i did.  it was a random afternoon in the early summer and i had lost track of them for an hour or so.  suddenly liam's bedroom door burst open and they called me upstairs, and this is what greeted me:

seems they had switched outfits (and poses) ...

... all the way down to the underwear

it's weird.  summer is rapidly drawing to a close, as school starts monday.  we've met our teachers and bought our supplies and we're all ready to get back into a routine of some sort.  BUT.  it's things like this that i will miss.  the relaxing part of summer.  the laidback days with no big requirements, no rigid appointments.

the carefree afternoons where my children could conspire with their best friend sibling, and dissolve in fits of laughter as they swap clothes and deem it the funniest thing they have ever done.

lesson learned

"how can i earn extra money?"  liam asked me a few weeks ago.  he's under some sort of delusion that if he accumulates enough cash, he can purchase an ipod touch, which can go for well over $100 even used.  i've tried to explain to him that chris and i are not interested in him owning an ipod touch but it seems to be falling on deaf ears.  and really, who am i to squash his entrepreneurial spirit?

he brainstormed ideas: mowing grass, walking dogs, babysitting.  but he's just not quite old enough for any of them, at least by himself.  and then it hit me -- he could help out with yardwork.  we had returned from the beach to find our lawn strewn with branches and limbs and pinecones galore, courtesy of some fairly major storms that had blown through while we were away.

"i will pay you to pick up pinecones," i told him.

he perked up.  "how much?"

i debated whether i should compensate him with an hourly rate, but knowing how he can get distracted and drop whatever he's doing for something more enticing, i decided that it made more sense to pay him for the finished product.  "tell you what.  i'll give you three cents per pinecone."

he mulled it over.  "deal," he finally said, and we shook on it.

he ventured out to the backyard with chris's enormous workgloves on his small hands, since those pinecones can be prickly.  and to be honest, i kind of forgot about him.  i was still busy unpacking and figured that he had likely dropped the gloves and climbed into the hammock or started kicking his soccer ball or practicing his golf swing.

but about an hour later, he burst into the house, a triumphant look on his face.  "mommy!" he yelled.  "i'm finished!  and you owe me $19.50!"

i looked at him.  "honey, there's no way i owe you $19.50.  surely you've done your math incorrectly."

"oh yes you do!  i multiplied 3 cents by 600 and got $18.00, and then multiplied 3 cents by 50, which is $1.50.  and $18.00 plus $1.50 makes $19.50."

for a moment i paused to appreciate the distributive property at work -- as only a geeky math teacher would -- but then i regained my senses.  "you're telling me that you collected six hundred and fifty pinecones?" i asked incredulously.

"yep," he replied.  "come see!"

and sure enough, he had filled three huge bins and most of a wheelbarrow.  i didn't bother to count, but looking at his earnest face, i trusted the total.  but 650?  how was that possible?  it was then i realized that he had expanded his work area to include the woods that surround our backyard -- not exactly what i had in mind, but unfortunately, i had set no boundaries.

i had no choice to pay up.  we had shaken on the deal, which of course is a binding contract with a seven-year old.  i reluctantly retrieved my wallet.

"but just so you know," i said, as i handed him a twenty and told him to keep the change, "i'm adjusting this rate in the future.  you're going to run me out of house and home."

(and yard, come to think of it.)

a mere portion of his haul

eight is great

tomorrow, my sweet liam, you turn EIGHT.  how is it that you keep getting older, while i stay the same age?  :)  in honor of your big day, i wanted to try to encapsulate you in four simple words.  obviously i can't even come close, but i hope that this scratches the surface of the amazing person that you are.

L . I . A . M . 

L is for loving.  you are a huge, warm, cuddly, sweet ball of LOVE.  while some of your friends have already started to shy away from signs of affection with their family in public, you still welcome hugs and kisses from me and your daddy and sister -- no matter who's watching.  when i walk into your classroom to volunteer with centers, you light up and rush over to plant a big wet one on my cheek.  you love to snuggle in bed with all of us, either on a lazy saturday morning or at night after we read harry potter.  and when i found out you still walked susanna down the kindergarten hallway to her classroom every morning, months into the school year?  what bigger sign of love could there be?

I is for inquisitive.  your thirst for knowledge is like nothing i've ever seen before (which is saying a lot, since by now in my career i've taught thousands of students.)  you wonder, wonder, wonder all the time.  some of your questions i can actually answer, like your question from the other day of "what happens when an exponent is negative?"  nothing made me happier than to sit down at the kitchen table with a pad of paper and lead you to discover how negative exponents work -- and then marvel at how you surmised on your own what an exponent of zero actually means.  of course, i have to admit that a few many of your questions i really don't have a clue as to how to answer.  you seem to accept my lack of knowledge in certain areas, and that's when you reach for the ipad to look it up.  you always yearn to learn -- about math, about history, about music, about geography, about sports.  oh, the sports.  which brings us to ... 

A is for athletic.  Lord have mercy, son, is there any ball that you cannot catch/smack/cream/dunk/kick/spin/tackle?  (and forgive me because i'm sure some of those verbs do not really apply, but as your very unathletic mother, i really don't have a clue.  but i'm learning.)  no matter what sport you might be playing, you approach it with an unbelievable amount of focus and intensity and passion.  sometimes it's a bit too much passion -- you put a ridiculous amount of pressure on yourself to win, and have a hard time forgiving yourself for mistakes -- but you care.  you strive to better yourself and will practice for hours in the backyard or on the field or on the court.  trying out and earning a spot on your elite soccer team has really opened your eyes to what is possible when you're surrounded by like-minded peers who all share your same love of the game.  the mom of one of your teammates turned to me the other day and shared with me something i've heard throughout your years of being involved in team sports.  "i just love watching your son!" she said.  "he's so mild-mannered and polite off the field, but then he gets out there and is just tenacious.  it doesn't matter if he's facing a kid who's two feet taller and a few years older -- he will battle them without fear for that ball.  and he usually wins that battle." 

and M is for mine.  okay, full disclosure: i didn't have a perfect "m" word.  i even pulled up a list of adjectives that start with "m" for inspiration, and there were quite a few that applied to you in one way or the another ... like maddening (when you obsess over that dadgum wii), masculine (you are 100% boy to the core!), mannerly, memorable, merciful, merry, mesmerizing, mild, mindful, mindless, modest, moody, motivated, moving, multi-talented, and even malodorous (after sweating it out in a game -- who knew you'd be so stinky at age seven?!).  but none of them seemed perfect.  and then, as i said prayers with you tonight and kissed your sweet soft cheek, it came to me.  i was instantly brought back to the night in the hospital eight years ago.  i remember it like it was just yesterday -- lying in that bed, your daddy by my side, as our doctor placed your small body into my arms.  i stared at your sweet face, i touched your tiny fingers, i felt your heart beat.  and i thought, "this little boy is mine."  and you still are.  you belong to others, surely -- you are God's child, first and foremost -- but please, never ever forget, that you will always be mine.

happy eighth birthday, my loving, inquisitive, athletic little big boy. 

love,
mommy

hair unapparent

in the midst of all my packing for our week-long annual family reunion, it hit me: the last time we had a nice photo taken of the four of us at the beach was when the kids were both small enough to pick up and hold.  so as i stuffed our suitcases to the gills, i made sure to include four outfits that coordinated and, in a moment of divine inspiration, actually ironed them.  (true story: susanna once picked up a play iron in the pretend center at preschool and asked her teacher what it was.)

so one day mid-week while we were there, i forced my loving husband to shave, attempted to tame liam's errant cowlick, forced a hairbow onto susanna, and cajoled my brother to take a few pictures with his fancy camera.  the lighting was good -- sunny, but not too bright -- and it wasn't beastly hot.  the one thing i didn't take into account? the breeze.

we actually got several that are christmas card-worthy and one that i might even consider framing.  but the vast majority all had one problem in common: that aforementioned breeze.  seems that it just took chris's mane and sent it flying.  below is one of those pictures that ben uploaded to facebook, along with chris's self-deprecating comment below.

and then, a few minutes after this exchange, we see this pop up on our screens:

you gotta love digital photography.  and photoshop.  and a brother who's clever enough to create such an image.

but mostly, you gotta love a man who's comfortable enough to embrace the humor of growing old.  which makes him even more attractive than ever ... hair or no hair a little bit less.

wordless wednesday

we've just returned from eight glorious days at three different beaches (and return on saturday for another week.)  i know how lucky we are ... i've been trying to explain to the kids that not everyone gets to spend the majority of their summer hanging out at the coast, but i don't think they quite get it.  but as long as they love it so, and look forward to our next visit by counting down the days, and thank God during our bedtime prayers for the ocean and the sand and all He created, well, i guess that's all i can ask.

all aboard the ferry to bald head island for our annual trip with chris's parents

getting around on golf carts is always one of the highlights

"i think bocce should be in the olympics," says our equal-opportunity sports enthusiast

as we do every year, we wound up running into friends from home unexpectedly.  this time, it was two of susanna's best friends, anna and marion

at topsail, we attended the NC aquarium's weekly program and met some super fun wetlands creatures up close and personal.  (the highlight of this event? the turtle peeing all over the floor as the handler walked around with him)

just when you think you can't get any more relaxed ...

... you realize that your slavedriver mother is a teacher and brings your summer workbooks for you to do even on vacation

a few weeks ago, susanna had marshall toting her around, and now she's got her brother doing the same thing -- she's got these boys wrapped around her little finger