We recently purchased three new car seats for our second vehicle (a truck with a 3/4 cab) since both of us will be driving and dropping children off at school.
Today, as I drove the children to school in the truck, they were giddy with excitement to be driving in the seldomly-used-vehicle, packed tightly in to the backseat, mere inches from my head. As they were bouncing around in their car seats making so much noise I could hardly think, I tried playing the "I SPY" game with them.
"I spy ... a school bus. Do you see the school bus?"
"AARGHHAHAHAHAAA I'm a TIGAH!! I'm a ZEBWA! I... I... I an EWEFANT! Hahaha dat SO funny!! AARGHHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
Heads were thrashing about, arms were flailing in the air, legs were kicking my seat and the glee was enough to make me crash in to a sign post.
"OK. OK. Order in the truck. I spy ... an airplane! Who sees the airplane?"
"AARGHHAHAHAHAAA. You not a ZEBWA. You a MONKEY!!! You... you... you a LEOPAHD! You a DOFIN and you eat FISH! Bwahahahahahaha!!!!"
Finally, in a last ditch attempt to lower the energy level in the car before we all perished, I asked "Hey guys, I have something to tell you. Do you remember our good friends The Halverson Boys? Well, they moved far, far away to England for a little while and they are living in a brand new house with their mommy and daddy. And ... and ... and ... GUESS WHAT HAPPENED?!"
They took a pause from their out of control laughter and slowly responded, "....what?"
I continued, "Well, last week, they were sitting in their living room WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN a car that was being chased by the POLICE crashed in to the tree in THEIR FRONT YARD. It almost crashed RIGHT IN TO THEIR HOUSE."
They were quiet, so I elaborated, "So they are sitting there, reading their books and WHAM! the car crashed RIGHT IN TO THE TREE. And they all screamed "AHHH!!" and they jumped up and looked out the window and they saw the police!! IN THEIR YARD, chasing a bad man down the street!!"
For several seconds the silence continued while my children tried to imagine the scene unfold. William then piped up, "Mommy. Dat's a REALLY good story. Tell it again."
I told that story eleven more times on the drive to school.
So thank you, Debbie. And thank you to the lone criminal in Lowestoft, England. For without this highly entertaining tale, I surely would have crashed my car in to a tree on the drive to school, today.
Last week when my mother and Jim were in town, they took the triplets to the pool almost everyday, so Charlie and I could efficiently complete some errands with minimal disruption.
Although it was great to have the opportunity for some quiet time with my husband and Henry, I felt like I was really missing out on some serious fun of splashing in the pool with my family.
When they went to the pool on a particularly busy Labor Day and Charlie and I were out shopping for school supplies, William, who had been sitting in the hot tub, suddenly yelled out "OH NO NONI!! I GO POO-POO!!"
While the hot tub rapidly cleared of people, my mother jumped up - hustled my son off to the restroom - and after a quick investigation of his swim trunks, determined that thankfully, he had had a false alarm. When my mom returned to the pool with William, notifying those who had congregated around the hot tub that there was in fact no poop, she decided that it might be a good opportunity to take the girls in to the restroom.
When mom called out, "Carolyn and Elizabeth, come on girls, get out of the pool and let's go use the potty!" Elizabeth sweetly replied for anyone within ear shot to hear, "Dat's OK, Noni. I just went pee-pee in da pool" and Carolyn chimed in "ME TOO!"
I'm so sorry I missed out on all that good fun. Honestly, I only taught them to pee in the shower. Clearly, our homeowner's association needs to post one of those "Welcome to our OOL" signs. Notice, there's no "P" in the pool.
And then, I need to teach our children how to read and obey.
Very recently, I've determined that I don't want our children watching television. With the exception of a handful of PBS children shows that I'll allow them to see once or twice a week, the television remains OFF during the day.
The triplets are at an age where they absorb everything that they see, and when they were repeating entire lines from the "G" movies in our library, re-enacting semi-violent scenes, and waking up from nightmares involving Shrek, I decided to package all of our movies up and move them out of sight. My objective has become sheltering our children from entertainment marketing, as much as possible, for as long as possible, to hopefully prevent any further permeation of violence in to their young lives.
On Saturday, we attended a birthday party where William discovered a toy Batman figurine that once he spotted, did not leave his grasp for the next three hours. He didn't even know who or what Batman was but once he eyed the mask and cape and boots and CAPE, he was enthralled.
When it was time to leave and we informed him that he needed to return Batman, there were tears. Big tears. He begged "Please, mommy, can I have Batman? I NEED BATMAN."
The whole ride home, that evening, the entire next day, "Mommy. I NEED BATMAN. I need Batman. You take me to a Batman store and you get me Batman? Batman. Batman. I need Batman. We go to Batman store. I get BATMAN."
I am not exaggerating when I say that TIMES TEN THOUSAND is the approximate number of times I was asked for Batman on Sunday.
Finally, before my ears fell off my head, I went to the Batman store. Also known as Target.
We perused the aisles for several items on our list before making it over to the figurine section. William immediately spotted the Batman that he wanted. And then, he immediately wanted me to open the 20 millimeter thick plastic box that BATMAN was housed in, which would have been impossible with out a hack saw.
So the whole ride home, "You open Batman? You get me Batman? When we get home, you open Batman? I play with Batman? MY BATMAN! MY BATMAN! You open Batman for me?"
Yes, Raymond. I will open Batman for you.
My son was hugging and kissing his toy Batman. For several hours, he was zooming Batman all around the house while his cape flapped in the breeze. At bedtime, I tucked William in, recited his prayers that included a special request that God please keep Batman safe, and then I gave my son a kiss on the head.
Followed by a kiss on top of Batman's pointy head.
When I went to check on the children before turning in for the night, I found William with Batman tightly in his grasp.
At 4:03 AM, I was awoken by a distraught William standing over me asking in a voice much too loud for 4:03 AM, "MOMMY. WHERE MY BATMAN?! BATMAN GONE. MOMMY I NEED BATMAN!! I NEED BATMAN NOW!!!"
I whispered to him, "Oh good gracious, why in the WORLD are you awake at 4 AM? And more importantly why did you have to wake me up, too?! WILLIAM. The sun is not up yet, you shouldn't be, either!!"
He persisted, "MOMMY. YOU GO FIND MY BATMAN. I NEED BATMAN!"
So I heaved myself out of bed, staggered down the hall to his room and groggily searched for Batman in the dark. I found the jagged little figurine underneath his pillow and when I revealed the contents of my grasp to my son, his concerned expression instantly relaxed and he breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Oh Batman, DARE you are!"
I tucked my young son back in to bed with his Batman and as my eyes adjusted to the dim lit room, I lovingly gazed at my little boy, trying to sear in to my memory the moment. His beautiful blond hair on the pillow, his bright blue eyes gratefully peering up at me, his too-big dinosaur pajamas, his fist clenched tightly on a new superhero toy. I leaned down and kissed his soft baby cheek and whispered, "I really and truly love you little guy."
He smiled and said "Dank you, Mommy. Dank you for finding my Batman." Then he added, "I weally and twuly love..." my heart swelled in anticipation before he added, "Batman."
Huh. I never would have guessed.