ENOUGH QUIRKINESS TO GO AROUND!

I do believe my children are just quirky enough to provide me with substantial blog material for the rest of my life, or at the very least while I have enough of my wits about me to compose a lucid paragraph. It is David's turn on the chopping blog this time. He is probably my least frequent target, mainly due to the fact that he enjoys being embarrassed even less than his siblings. Christian is the least self-conscious person I've ever known, actually it is near impossible to embarrass him, and Brittany of course is vain enough to enjoy seeing her name in print regardless of the content! David is strung just a bit tighter! Contrary to the opinion of one family member (you now who you are!) who feels that my children being the constant fodder for my ramblings is perhaps a painful thing, I do not print anything that I have not had preapproved by the target of my musings! The one exception to this was the year I reported in my annual Christmas letter that David was finally bathing voluntarily! And yes, he was a bit mortified and therefore I have attempted to make it up to him by keeping him out of the limelight. His time of respite is over. I do believe he just might be my quirkiest child yet! Now he doesn't hold a candle to Christian when it comes to spontaneous bursts of surprising behavior, but rather his is a planned and very deliberate quirkiness!

He recently discovered an old pair of his Grandpa Graves glasses in the glove compartment of his car. Not only are they bifocals, but they are very large, thick-rimmed spectacles. David wore them to school. I know this because his sister told me. Apparently she fielded questions throughout the day such as "What is wrong with your brother?" While his fellow freshman nerds found it hilarious, Brittany's response to the numerous queries... "He's a dork!" I'm pretty sure that had already been firmly established after David and his friends played "Chuck, Chuck, Norris" (their version of "Duck, Duck, Goose") in the middle of the school cafeteria.

To understand David, you must take a glimpse into what he loves. If one were to check out his myspace page you would glean a bit of insight into his world. His heroes: Chuck Norris and Monty Python. His biggest fear: Chuck Norris' bad side. His goal for this year: to bring tube socks back into style... of course once achieved, he would no longer wear them! He likes to be different, but it is a carefully orchestrated difference. An "I'm a nerd, but I know I'm a nerd and therefore I'm cool" kind of thing. As his mother, on one hand I find his quest to be unique very endearing, on the other hand, occasionally embarrassing. To be sure, these children of mine keep life interesting. I never know what the next day might bring, which is okay by me, predictability is overrated anyhow!

MY 4th GRADE CASANOVA!

I had a funny thing happen at church last night... I work in our "Just for Kid's program" (basically a generic version of Awana) with the 3rd and 4th graders. I enjoy this age quite a bit, they are funny and precocious and just shy of that impending hormonal stage. An extra perk is getting to work with my own child and having an opportunity to observe his interaction with his peers. Usually my keen observation is rewarded with a few good armpit burps and a chicken dance or two. Last night however, I was able to watch with amusement as two older women (5th graders) tried in vain to catch the eye of my completely clueless son. At the end of the evening they sidled up to me and asked, "Are you Christian's mom?" I confirmed I was indeed! They went on to inform me that, "Everyone at school really loves Christian!" I expressed my pleasure and added that I too love him of course. This is where it got good... they elaborated "they don't just love him, they (you really need a visual here, but she then made kissie noises and fanned her face with her lips puckered) Luuuuuuuuuhhhvvvve him!" At this point I was just glad one of those spontaneous snort-laughs didn't burst out of me as a million quirky things about Christian passed through my mind (oh say, having to tell him not to lick people on the bus, the pleasure he derives from Captain Underpants books, the fact that he doesn't think being threatened with the possibility of moving into Calli's doghouse with her much of a threat at all, the fact that by the time I push him into the shower each night he actually smells like he has been living in Calli's doghouse with her, need I go on?) Now, while I think Christian is absolutely adorable, and his enthusiastic approach to life while being exhausting at times, is really very endearing, it amused me to no end to contemplate Christian being viewed as an object of romantic notions! Perhaps it's the "new boy" syndrome, or maybe the unmistakable allure of the formerly homeschooled, or I suppose it could be his new green and red sneakers that he loves dearly. I really don't remember what I looked for in a fellow in the 4th grade, but I am pretty sure it is not his suave, debonair way with the ladies.

Jeff and I are still not too sure we are even ready for Brittany to be dating, and David is just now starting to talk to girls, so needless to say, I am eager for Christian to remain a little boy for as long as possible. My fears were sufficiently relieved by his response to the whole matter... he wanted to know who said these offensive things so he could flatten them. Ahhhh, life is never dull with my 4th grade Casanova!

GRASS-STAINS!

Grass-stains... they are my current nemesis! I sheepishly will admit to you that I completely lost it over grass stains this week. I've been having an ongoing brouhaha with the youngest of my brood over the gross amount of clothing that he has ruined with his carefree attitude toward grass. The pile of church/school clothing is shrinking at an alarming rate as the play clothes pile grows before my eyes! Now before I detail my meltdown for you, I must inform you that it came on the heels of a particularly destructive week. The offending boy had already come home sporting a permanent ink-stain on the belly of one brand-spankin' new t-shirt, a large rip in the belly of another new shirt (the belly does seem to be a problem area!) and a plethora of grease-stains (presumably from the oh-so-tasty cafeteria salisbury steak) again all over the belly of a new shirt.
I am devoted to "Shout" and apply it liberally to my laundry (I buy in bulk!) but suffice it to say, my stain-removing friend didn't touch these... even with my last line of defense, an old toothbrush and a great deal of elbow grease! So bear in mind that these offenses were fresh on my mind as I prepared to iron Christian's new jeans (previously worn once!) and soon discovered a monstrous grass-stain covering the whole left knee and a good deal of the right as well. I had somehow missed them during the laundering process, but my wealth of experience told me that it wouldn't have mattered, that nothing short of a sandblaster would have removed stains of this magnitude. This is when my lecture began... you might wonder what one could say about responsible grass behavior for 20 minutes, but I picked up steam midway through when I noticed the grass-stain/ink-stain combination on his undershirt. Short of football practice, I'm not sure I know how one gets a grass-stain on the shoulder of their undershirt, but as I live and breathe, there it was! So on my lecture rolled... you know the whole 'clothes don't grow on trees' and 'doesn't it bother you to look homeless?' spiel (by the way... it doesn't!) You know it's probably time to reign yourself in when your husband and two teenagers are trying not to laugh at your rant, but by golly, I had things that needed to be said. In reality, I planned to keep up with it until the guilty party acknowledged the error of his way and pledged to act more appropriately in grassy, inky and food laden areas, but alas, the bus came and with it the end of my informative and life-changing speech. Jeff later informed me that he too was the perpetrator of many a grass-stain as a callow youth so I fear I'm probably fighting a losing battle with genetics here!

I'm happy to report that Friday passed with nary a stain--grass, ink, or food! Who says a well-delivered diatribe never bears results!

MY FUNNY LITTLE MOTHER!

Today's post is a tribute to my funny little mother. I feel completely justified in poking a bit of fun at her being that she found great delight in my sister's post about me!

My mother is such a funny little thing (and at 4'11", this is not just a term of endearment!) I was recently attempting to walk her through the steps (over the phone mind you!) to view Brittany's proofs online. It seemed a fairly easy process to me, but after spending at least 3-4 minutes trying to direct her to the web address bar, I realized I might be tackling a tricky project. Alas, she finally figured out where the evasive bar was located and I directed her to type in the website address of the photography studio. After spelling the name for her, I of course told her to press enter. As her finger hovered over the enter key she warily told me, "This better not bring up any pornography on my computer!" I found this hilariously amusing.

I find the internet to be vastly full of resources to make my life easier. I pay bills online, shop online, find recipes online, order pictures online, etc. etc. etc! My parents are both extremely intelligent people, both very talented and well-rounded in their knowledge. I go to them for advice and counseling so often, and the older I get the more I realize how very wise they are. Thus said, I am amazed at the things they need explained when it comes to the Worldwide Web! I have walked them through the process of ordering things on Amazon.com and ebay, have tracked purchased items for them, contacted the vendor of an errant copy of Pure Luck for them, and explained what BTW, LOL, TTYL and various other terms mean. I am constantly amused at having to actually say things like "Okay now, that box at the bottom of the screen that says 'Continue', yeah the big one there at the bottom, yes the square one there that's highlighted and blinking, yeah, click there!"

I guess it's my one chance to feel smarter than my parents. I'm pretty sure my dad could get through the process on his own, he's probably just double-checking the procedures to reassure my mom. To my mother, the whole thing seems like a confusing and complicated foreign language, with the additional danger of pornography, predators and identity theft at every click of the mouse. You know though, it's pretty nice to have my mother need me, and it provides a constant source of amusement for me as well. Hey, it even provided me with some blogging material to boot!