Boys

July 1, 2018

Freshman Tennis

The Tennis Tournament

Teen-man-child playing tennis

Parenting is an adventure. We know this. We all have funny parenting stories to tell. This particular adventure involves one of my two boys; the one who is a high school freshman who joined the tennis team. Freshmen boys are not known for their organization, time management, or communication skills. In fact, there seems to be a complete lack of all three. My oldest demonstrated this recently. A mid-weekday morning in our house involves people getting up, dressed and out the door to school or work in a timely, haphazardly manner. (While I would love to say we are extremely organized, and getting everyone to work or school is a piece of cake – well, some days are better than others.) This late February day was not one of the best.

6:45 AM – his phone rings. Now, I’m wondering who on earth would call him at such an early hour. Then I hear, “Today!?! Do I need to dress out? The bus is where!?”

Insert deep mom sigh here.

Me: What do you need? Where do you need to be? When do you need to be there?

Him: (panic stricken) I forgot I had a tennis tournament today. I need my uniform, and to be at school ten minutes ago. The bus is getting ready to leave.

And, up the stairs he goes to change clothes. I begin making him a lunch, as he normally buys something at school. He comes zipping back down to the kitchen, grabs his tennis gear, and demands, “Let’s go! I am already late!” It’s a good thing I understand his brain is not fully developed, and in the teen years, it is normal for teens to be self-centered. Even so, I took a deep breath, and asked, “Do you need a lunch?” “No, mom. I just need my tennis gear. We play all day. I don’t need my backpack or anything. I just need to go. I got this. I just need to get to school.”

Handsome hubby and I look at each other, sigh and shake our heads. Hubby takes the teen-man-child to school, and drops him off. Upon hubby’s return home, he said, “He wasn’t the only one late. Others were still getting on the bus.”

Now, my brain has a chance to slow down and think about how his day will probably go. Then, I realize, he doesn’t have lunch, or money for lunch. He didn’t take anything to drink, no water or Gatorade. He didn’t take any kind of snacks, or even have breakfast. So, I text him. Because, of course like the majority of teens in America his phone is embedded in his hand.

Me, 7:20: What do you need for lunch today?

Him, 7:43: I need my lunch, or money.

Me: Where and what time?

Him: The CF Educational Support Center. And soon, please.

Me: Are you on the bus? Do you need sweats and hoodie, too? (I mean, it is February and a little chilly outside.) Would you like some snacks, too?

Him: yes and yes.

Me: Ok. I’ll meet you there by 10:00 AM.

Him: Never mind. Moving to a different place. Text you where when I find out.

Grateful my youngest had a great morning, and was self-sufficient in getting himself up and dressed for school. We grab our things and head out of the door. I drop the youngest off at school, and head to work. Once I get settled, I text the forgetful tennis player.

Me, 8:00: I kinda need to know where I’m going. I’m at work, but will have to go home. Get your stuff. Then find you.

Him, 8:30: I’m at CF High School.

Me: Are you sure that’s the name?

Him: Yes – come soon- cold.

Me: GRRRRRRR

He didn’t reply.

I explain to my boss the situation. Being a mom, and having been in similar situations herself, she is very understanding. I hop in the car, head home, and gather up the needed items. Get back in the car. The Google Maps lady telling me where to go so I can find my cold, hungry, tennis playing son.

An hour later

Me, 9:35: I made it. Where are you?

Him: At the back of the school.

Me: I’m at the back of the school. I see the tennis courts near a baseball field and a football stadium. I don’t see you.

At this point a coach notices the lost mom and takes pity. I’m not sure if it was the look of bewilderment, or frustration, I was just thankful for a helpful adult.

Coach: Can I help you?

Me: I’m trying to get this bag (holds up bag) to my son. He plays for KHS.

Coach: What division?

Me: (Blank stare to quizzical look) Division? (I’m thinking – wait, this is tennis – not math….)

Coach: Grade? Singles? Doubles? Mixed Doubles? The students are scattered among the ten high schools in our district depending on the division they play.

Me: I’m not sure. He just said he had a tennis tournament. He. . . .

My phone rang. It was the teen-man-child.

Me: What division are you playing today?

Him: Ummm, not sure.

Me: What school are you at?

Him: Ummm, not sure.

Me: Ask a grown up who looks like a coach. Use these words, “Excuse me, can you please tell me what the name of this school is?”

Him: CFF High.

I thank the coach for helping a lost and clueless mom. She smiles, shakes her head and walks away.

Back to the car I go. New address in the gps. Fingers crossed it isn’t too far. Jack pot! It’s ten minutes away.

10:15 – I finally find my child and deliver the needed goods.

Jump to the end of the day. Around 6:00 PM, I get the “come get me, we are back” text. When I get to the school, he is helping unload things off a bus. He goes to the locker room, grabs his gear, and walks over. “How was it? How did you do?” I ask. He sheepishly grins, pulls a medal out and said, “I got 2nd!”

And that is the agony and ecstasy of parenting. Now, shopping with boys is another story.

To wear underwear, or not to wear underwear? That is the question.

April 26, 2018

Boys! What was I thinking!?!

I always wanted two boys and I had such daydreams of what that would be like.

It would be fun to watch them grow up playing trucks and trains together. They’d be on the same sports teams as they got older. I just knew people would ooh and aahh, and say things like, “Oh! There’s Harley’s and Harrison’s mom. They are such good boys. I don’t know how she does it.”

I would stand on the porch and wave to my boys as they headed out with their dad and grandpa to go hunting, fishing, and camping. I had this idyllic picture in my head of what it would be like to be the mother of two boys.

Holy Crap! What was I thinking!?!

My sweet mental picture did not include clothes scattered from one end of the house to the other. I didn’t think about the Lego’s, the Hot wheels, and all the other little things that can cause serious injury to a bare foot. My picture did not include the arguing, and fighting, the constant use of the words like “wiener, pee pee, junk, penis, butt, booty, bootocks, and poop.”

Now I know better.

Boys are great fun. I love them dearly and wouldn’t trade my adventures for anything. If I hadn’t had boys, I wouldn’t have been able to say things like:

No, you may not put your crayons in the toaster oven.
Put your clothes back on, and LEAVE them on!
There will be no sword fighting with the ceiling fan.
Hot wheels do not go in the salad spinner.
Let go of your wiener. I promise it’s not going to fall off.
You may not attempt to get to your room by climbing on the counters, and furniture. You are not Tarzan, or George of the Jungle. You will walk! On the floor!!

If I hadn’t had boys, I would never have been able to create the rules for fighting:

Someone will get hurt.
There will be no crying.
There will be no tattling.

Are you sure you want to play fighting? Of course they play fighting. . . someone gets hurt. . .there may be minimal crying. . . but nobody dares tell momma!

I’m off to enjoy my boys! More adventures await.

March 27, 2018

Junior High! Here we come. . .

Junior High- a whole new world

So, we went to Harley’s 6th grade parent orientation. The counselor spoke about changing hormones, growth and development. . . basically what we were headed for with our son this year. The assistant principal spoke about what we could do to help our children make a smooth transition. This included things like, practicing using his combination lock, helping him organize his backpack and binder, and changing clothes quickly.

This last bit caught my attention.

Getting my son dressed in the morning can take numerous reminders to get the socks….now the shoes…tie them….brush the teeth….don’t forget deodorant. Where are the glasses? Each reminder requires a return to the bathroom, or bedroom. This is life with ADHD.

Now, he’s going to have to get dressed quickly at school!?! By himself? In just minutes?

Well, apparently students have between 3 and 5 minutes to change for PE and make it into the gym for warm ups. If they are focused, and doing what they should be, this shouldn’t be an issue. And, after PE, they have about the same amount of time, maybe a minute or two longer, to shower, if they want, and change back into school clothes for class.

When my husband and I arrived home, I told Harley he needed to practice changing clothes quickly.

Harley: “Why? I’m not getting undressed at school.”

Me: “Yes, you will because you have to dress out for PE,” I explained.

Harley: He got a slightly panicked, puzzled look on his face and asked, ” You mean people will see me get undressed? But, that means I have to wear underwear.” (He hates to wear underwear, and has been known to go commando on more than one occasion.)

Me: “Yes, you will need to wear underwear, but no worries. Everyone else will be changing too. Everyone will be nervous and worried, just like you. It will be like your brother in the locker room at hockey practice.”

Harley: “Oh.” I could tell he still wasn’t on board with the idea.

Me: I explained at the end of PE he would be able to take a shower, and get dressed for class.

Harley: “NO WAY! I am not getting naked at school.”

Me: I went on to explain, he could keep baby wipes (“Mom, I’m not a baby.”) and deodorant in his locker for after class.

Harley: “Mom, can’t I just spray myself with Febreeze? It smells nice and fresh. Then I wouldn’t need baby wipes, or deodorant, or to be naked at school.”

That’s my boy.

Junior High – An Entrepreneur is Born

We are three weeks into the school year, and getting dressed out for PE is no big deal now.

Because I refused to allow my son to spray himself with Febreeze after PE (#meanmom) and insisted on sending baby wipes and deodorant for his gym locker, he has become quite the entrepreneur.

At dinner this evening, he shared the fact that he’s chosen for football because he’s good at snapping the ball.

And, his friends owe him money.

Me: What? Friends owe you money?

He went on to share that everyone asks for his baby wipes because no one wants to take a shower, yet they don’t want to be stinky. He said he was selling them for $1.00 a wipe. I’m proud that he’s smart, and aware of the whole supply and demand thing. I just hope he’s joking because he would most likely get in trouble for selling baby wipes.

He then said he’d like to take extra water bottles with him to school. He thinks he can get $5.00 a bottle.

My hubby asked, “Don’t you think people would use the water fountain for free?”

He replied, “No, Dad. The water is warm. The line is slow, and they make you go fast, so you are still really thirsty.”

Smart boy…. my son, the entrepreneur.

What are your kids up to at school? What do I have to look forward to next?

February 6, 2018

Mom adventure- Please don’t put popcorn in your ear.

Mom adventure

We all have our stories to tell, and battle scars to show. Do you have a story that involves an ER visit?

Mom Adventure – Morgan is the boss.

When Harrison was four the mom adventure involved popcorn and ears.

After I got home from work, Harrison and I went to get the mail. Our mailbox was at the end of the street. As we walked down the sidewalk, this was our conversation:

Me: So, how was your day?

Harrison: Bad.

Me: Why, what happened?

Harrison: I put popcorn in my ear.

Me: Why?

Harrison: Morgan told me to.

Me: Morgan is not the boss of you. You need to be the boss of yourself.

Harrison: Morgan is the boss. He said so.

Me: Did you tell Ms. B., your teacher?

Harrison: No, she would be mad.

Me: Did you tell Daddy?

Harrison: No, he would be mad.

Me: Is it still there? Does it hurt?

Harrison: It hurts if you touch it.

Mom Adventure – Don’t panic. I’ve got this! Really, I’ve got this…..right?

My mom brain is trying not to panic with thoughts like:

I’m sure we can get the popcorn out. At least it wasn’t a pea, or bean, because those swell and get stuck! We can be thankful for the little things, right?

Thank goodness he told me. What if he didn’t tell anyone? How long would it have been in there? I’ve heard some horror stories that involve a stench developing when something has been in there way, way too long!

After we made it back to the house, I got a flashlight. Yep. There was a popcorn kernel in his ear. You could see it, but not get to it. I was secretly hoping….I know it may have been futile, but hoping there wasn’t a popcorn kernel in there!

Look what I can fit in my nose!

Mom Adventure – Google How to Get Popcorn out of an Ear

Then the thoughts turned to: What could I use to get it out that wouldn’t push it farther in?

He tried standing on one leg and hopping up and down with his ear toward the ground. You know, like when you are trying to get water out of your ears after swimming. No, it didn’t work.

We needed something with suction. The shop vac! I put the shop vac to my ear. It was suctiony, but it didn’t hurt. So I put the shop vac to his ear and had him turn his head to the side to see if a little extra gravity would help. No luck.

The only thing left to do was call the doctor.

We ended up at the after-hours clinic. One doctor came in to see what was going on. She left to gather the needed supplies. As she was entering the door with a tray full of medical instruments that looked like they were designed for torture, our favorite pediatrician came strolling by. He popped in to say hello and see what was going on. He said retrieving items from areas they didn’t belong was one of his favorite things to do. He told the other doctor he would handle it. She and her tray of torture devices left the room. Our favorite doctor left and came back with a giant empty syringe. He filled it up with water and shot the water in Harrison’s ear. That’s right, he washed it out with a super size syringe of water.

Who would have thought a giant syringe of water would shoot the kernel right out of his ear? Clearly not me, or we’d have tried that at home before calling the doctor for FREE!

We can only hope he will not put anything else in his ears!

What has YOUR kiddo put in their ear?

You have come to the right spot to tell your mom adventure stories and enjoy ours. Let’s laugh together and share the magic of motherhood!

Mom Adventure – Did I hear that correctly?

Ears aren’t the only small space where you’ll find popcorn kernels and the like. When my daughter was three she was playing with Barbie in the living room. I was enjoying a very rare moment along in the nearby study emailing a friend when I heard them chatting away. How sweet, I thought, until I heard these words, “Daddy, I put a bone in my nose.”

My heart stopped.

My husband didn’t blink and I heard the conversation continue as I flew into the room. Dad didn’t know that the Barbie doll had a dog…and that dog had an itty bitty bone. I really suspected that itty bitty bone was now inside our daughter’s nose!

Mom Adventure – Yes, I heard that correctly.

Of course it was late evening. Of course it was the weekend. AND after taking a peek into cutie’s nose with a flashlight….of course that itty bitty bone was inside her nose.

Great. Now what?

Mom Adventure – Google and a call to the Dr.

Ok, I warn you now. Do NOT google ‘something stuck in the nose’ unless you have a REALLY strong stomach. I nearly threw up after doing that myself. GROSS! You think your kid stuck something weird in their nose. OH, you just have no idea what all google has photographs of.

Since googling ‘Help! My kids stuck something in their nose.” didn’t give me anything but a nauseous stomach. I called the pediatrician. Of course it was after hours ($$) but crazy they were open for some unknown reason and we raced to see them.

Mom Adventure – The Professional’s Opinion

So, after rushing to the pediatrician’s office, all the way there, thinking how lucky we are the office is still open we arrived. We laid out the preschooler on the table and started peering in her nose. I was so relived to get this professional opinion….drumroll, please.

“She has a toy bone stuck in her nose.”

Um, ya’ think? And….there wasn’t anything the pediatrician could do. Next stop – the ER.

Mom Adventure – The 2nd Professional’s Opinion

So now we are at the ER and it is getting late. It must have been a full moon, too, because even though it was an ER in the suburbs on Denver, there were some really….interesting…..things going on in the ER. Ew.

Once we were back in a room to see the dr where my daughter happily eats the popsicle they gave her and watches the Disney channel on the TV, I get the 2nd professional’s opinion,

“There is a toy bone stuck in her nose.”

OMG – ya’ think? And….nothing to be done here. Next stop = pediatric ENT.

Who is that mystery boy?

Mom Adventure – The 3rd Professional’s Opinion

So now it is Monday morning and we are in the ENT’s office. The whole crew is with us – Dad and baby brother.

We get back in to the room to see the ENT and anxiously await the dr. The dr arrives, peers into the 3 year old’s nose, with a VERY long hose with a light on the end, and that is just as much fun for all as it sounds, and we get the 3rd professional’s opinion,

“There isn’t a toy bone stuck in her nose.”

What? Did you say...isn’t?? Yes…the bone is now gone.

Before we could breathe a sigh of relief we are told this might not be good news. What happened to that bone? If it came out the nose that would be good but if it got sucked back into the lungs that would be bad.

So…off for x-rays we went.

Mom Adventure – The 4th Professional’s Opinion

At this point, the little toy boy that belonged to Barbie’s dog is now costing an absolute fortune! To think of the trouble I went to keeping Barbie’s toys away from the baby when in the end it was the 3 yr old who stuck on in her nose! Who knew?

Oh, the joys of an x-ray for a 3 year old who does not like to be still and stuck on a cold table where mom can not go. We quietly and, as patiently as possible, waited for the 4 professional’s opinion,

“No bone in there.”

Ok, so now we breath a sigh of relieve. What happened to the bone is still a mystery. Thankfully, this is my ONLY story of something that got stuck in the kiddo!