"Always prepared for adventure."

Travis keeps calling Sam "MacGyver" because I won't cut his hair.  I mean, sure, it's long-ish, but it's not MacGyver mullet-y:

Travis's new favorite thing to say any time someone comments on Sam's hair is, "Just give him a gum wrapper and D battery and LOOK OUT!"

I just can't get myself to cut it!  I had this issue with Alex as well, and if we all remember, Kari "The Stealer of Youth" cut it one wintry day.  Granted Alex's stood kinda on end and didn't have any curl to it like Sam's, but whatever.  As soon as she cut it, it was no longer the soft wispy baby hair.  It instantly became coarse little boy hair.  And he was only 5&1/2 months!

You can't make me let this baby grow up.  End of story.

Where's the ball?

The expressions on this baby are just too much.  And then add in the hand motions and the body language...TOO.  MUCH.

Someday

We had some friends over to play on Friday night.  The adults sat out on the deck in the beautiful weather while the hoard of children ran in and out of the house.  All the kids were well behaved and Alex quickly fell back in line after a quick scolding to stay the hell away from my peace lily with his helicopters.

He has two remote controlled helicopters that have thin, fairly sharp blades on them.  He is usually very good about making sure everyone stays away from them while they are in flight even though I don't think the blades could actually break skin or anything...one to the eye would most likely be an issue though.  However, he thinks it's pretty neat when a helicopter accidentally flys too close to my peace lily because the blades slice through the broad leaves like a hot knife through butter.  While he was flying one on Friday, I heard it hit my plant and reminded him to be careful and get away from the lily.  I thought he listened as I didn't hear any more leaf cutting in the living room.

I thought that until I popped into the house to grab something.  That's when I saw the plant schrapnel spewed across the living room floor.  And as I was about to reprimand him, I realized he and two friends were playing the game I purchased as a present for his cousin's birthday.  I skipped the scolding about the plant and forcefully asked why he thought he could open the game for his cousin.  "I just wanted to make sure Tommy would like it!"  Uh huh.

When will I learn to CONSTANTLY provide direct eyeball supervision of this child?

Holdin' On

Since I couldn't tell if the hairs on Sam's pj's this morning were his or mine, it miiiiiiiiiiight be time to give him a haircut.  Maybe.  But...no.  I can't do it.

¡Viva la baby hippy hair!

Star Gazers

Friday night, Alex and I were at the neighbors' and right before we left to go home, we all noticed how many starts were visible.  I told Alex we could grab some blankets, lay out on the deck, and look at the stars when we got home.  He was a tad reluctant, but said he would.

We headed out and snuggled up in our respective giant blankets.  He instantly and excitedly pointed out an airplane, and then a group of stars that looked like a kite.  After about 5 minutes or so we headed inside.  Right as he was about to step inside, he stopped and said, "Mom?  I really liked that and I'm happy I tried something new.  When you first said it, I thought it was going to be boring, but that was actually really cool and fun!"

See kiddo?  I can come up with fun stuff sometimes!

Distraction

After Sam ate and made a complete mess, I was still trying to get the taco stuff ready so we could put him to bed and eat before Alex was standing in front of an open refrigerator door claiming he was on the brink of starvation.  The only available ammo in my fight to entertain Sam long enough to get the chopping done without him wedging himself between my legs and the cabinets and screaming until I pick him up?  The newspaper flyer insert thingy.  Guess who thinks it's really funny to shred those things?  Guess who didn't care that he shredded them so that she didn't have to try to cut tomatoes one handed?

(Please excuse the blurriness of this picture.  The super needy clingy weirdo dog kept knocking me over as I was squatting down to take this and I finally gave up trying and just kept this one.  Just don't zoom in on it or anything silly like that.)

Travis came in from mowing the lawn moments after Sam scooted into the living room, leaving this diaster in his wake.  Upon laying eyes on this mess, he asked if the dog was still alive as he assumed she did it and I was calling on every good memory of her in an attmept to stave off the stabby feelings.  Alas, I assured him that no, the dog didn't do this.  It was the youngest of the terrors sapping every ounce of patience and energy from my body.  Who wants tacos??!!?

D'Awwww

I don't know which my boys love more:  their dad, or mowing the lawn.  Let's just go with mowing the lawn with their dad and really up the "d'awww" factor.

Dinnertime

Sam still goes to bed really early, around 6:30 or so, and he is STARVING immediatly upon arriving home, so he eats at least an hour or two before the rest of us.  It's fine and all, but I would prefer to only have to make dinner once a night.  On the bright side, his dinners are usually a bit less prep-intensive.  I.e., last night he had a slice of roast beef, a couple pieces of string cheese, and mini bell peppers.

He has been loving bell peppers lately, especially when his Auntie Kim pan roasted them for him.  I didn't feel like firing up the frying pan, so I just gave them to him raw.  I started cutting up some veggies for our meal of tacos set to occur later, all the while talking to him so he wasn't just planted at the kitchen table eating alone.  After slicing some olives, I turned around to make sure all of his "talking" didn't mean he was feeding everything to the dog.  That's when I saw this:

Please note the floor beneath his chair.  That little shit was gnawing on the peppers until they were a mild pulp, and then spitting them out.  So he was basically chewing them up to get the juice, and then unceremoniously relieving his mouth of its contents.

And if that wasn't irritating enough, he screamed, "MORE! MORE! MOOOORRRE!" as soon as he was finished with the portion on his plate.  And like a dummy, I gave him more.  And in turn, I had a bigger pile of masitcated pepper pieces to sweep up.

Work Schmerk

In my never ending quest to be considered a professional in my feild, I just sent this as my response to a customer requesting pricing information on a very tiny piece of equipment.  Like less than $2.00 tiny.

You know you want me to work for or with you.

Twinning

It's a really good thing I haven't cut Sam's hair yet.  Otherwise I am honestly not sure I will be able to tell which baby is which when I look back at pictures.  Now I just have to count on my sucky memory to be able to keep track of which kid had long hair when he was this age.

Things Are About To Get Interesting

Last night, Travis was in the living room with Sam and all of a sudden I heard him say, "Ummm...are you seeing this?"  I peeked around the corner to see this:

Travis was as shocked as I was.  He said Sam crawled up to the walker thingy, pulled himself up, and just started walking.  This is a baby that does things on his own schedule thankyouverymuch.

This Baby

"I'll sit here and look really cute like this if you give me pretzels!"

"What the hell do you mean carbs are bad for you?  I will thank you to shut up about it."

Dodge That!

We got a new vehicle!  My Mountaineer was gettin' up there in miles and rust and in order to stop getting rust stains on every single pair of pants I own every time I leaned against the car to get Sam out of his seat, we replaced it.

After looking around, we settled on a Dodge Durango and I love it.  It is ridiculously loaded and I feel slightly shameful driving it.  Alex is completely enamored with the name Dodge.

"Look Mom!  It says Dodge on it...like dodgeball!!  Wouldn't it be cool if you could play dodgeball with the new truck, Mom?  You would totally win!  It would be so awesome!...Well except for when you might accidentally run over people because the truck is so big; that wouldn't be good."

Won't You Be My Neighbor

Don't mind me...I'm just over here making cookies to take to the neighbor's house as an apology for Alex and his friends ringing their doorbell "like at LEAST 11 times" when the little beasts were attempting to retrieve their ball from the neighbor's fenced in yard.

I would address the apology/explanationforthecookies note, but I can't because I don't know either of their names.

And that reminds me that I had to rely on Alex's class roster that lists all the kids' addresses to figure out if the nametag I saw on back to school night was in fact our next door neighbor.  Why couldn't I tell from the desk nametag?  Oh, well that would be because I have no clue what their last name is.  But guess what?!  Not only is our next door neighbor's daughter in Alex's class, I now know their last name.  Winning!

Transportation

According to Google Maps, the bus stop is 66 feet from our house.

Super convenient, right?  Even with stopping to inspect at any foliage that dared fall to the ground, we are there within a minute of leaving our living room.  The living room that houses the couch that Alex spilled his allergy medicine on this morning because he was too preoccupied with fast forwarding commercials during the Mythbusters episode he begged to watch 7 minutes of before we had to leave.  That very living room.  Aaaaaanyway...

We walked out the front door this morning and he stopped dead in front of the garage.  It was at this point he informed me he wanted to bike to the bus stop.  Yep.  He wanted to bike the 66 freaking feet across the street.  I said no because then I would have to drag his bike home.  Oh, but he'll just ride it back to the house when he sees the bus.  Ummmm, then when exactly are you planning on getting on the bus?  Whatever.  Fine.  Ride your bike.  This is not a battle I am willing to fight at 7:08AM.  "Thanks Mom!  Ummmm...where's my helmet?"  Dude.  Not my responsibility to keep track of where your helmet lands after you launch it from your head instead of hanging it on your handlebars like I have suggested every time you get off your bike.  Since it was such a short ride, I proposed he could accomplish the task without a helmet.  BLASPHEMY!  He has to wear his helmet when he rides his bike Mom.  

Finally he found the helmet, and he took off across the street.  I caught up just in time to hear him telling the other kids about his bike and about how I raised the seat up for him because it was too low before.  But the thing is, every time he tells someone I raised the seat for him, he finishes by saying, "She raised the seat so she didn't have to waste all her money buying me a new bike."  Now while it is true that he still fits on the bike and raising the seat was an appropriate course of action as opposed to buying a new bike, never ONCE have I said I would be wasting my money buying him a new bike.  So, if he could stop making me sound like a complete asshole mom, that would be great.

If you need me I will be addressing the scrapes I acquired from the pedals of his bike slamming into the back of my leg while I clumsily steered it the 66 feet back into the garage.

Missed Moment

And while you're enjoying the pictures of Alex's first day of school this year, please know I accidentally ruined all the other parents' opportunities to take pictures of their children getting on the bus because I walked Alex all the way to the steps of the bus and had my big ol' butt/back in the way of all the other children.  Including one neighbor that was putting his daughter on the bus for the first time ever even though she is in 5th grade this year.  Why is this the first time?  Oh, well that would be because he has walked her to school every single day until yesterday.  Don't worry, I'm sure it's not a specific moment of his daughter growing up that he wanted any photographic memories of.

I am clearly selfless and totally aware of my surroundings.  You're welcome neighbors.

♫Back to School, Back to School♫

I'm guessing you have been inundated with back to school pictures the last couple of days, but hey, what's one more, right?

He is officially a 1st grader:

And he's like 90 feet tall.  He had a great first day and was ecstatic that his only "homework" was to tell me one of the rules of his new classroom.  The one that stuck in his brain to tell me?  Two minute bathroom limit...unless you're pooping.