Cactus, Pt. 2

Spring8 is convinced that his cactus, Spikey, is a lost cause. I tend to agree as Spikey is just sort of existing is his pot. Not that I expect "him" to do much... Anyway, Spring8 bought a new plant. I suggested something leafy this time. No, that's not exciting. Guess what I get to mother now...A VENUS FLYTRAP! We'll see how this one goes. He's already informed me that it doesn't hurt when it closes on his finger.

So this morning, I've been reading about how to care for venus flytraps. Just call me a Renaissance woman!

Fourth Child Syndrome?

 

First of all, I have to say that Fall2 is in no way neglected. If he wants something, he points and yells and one of three brothers gets it for him. His brothers adore him no matter what he does and no matter the kind of trouble he causes, Fall2 is still considered "cute". [When Winter4 causes trouble, big brothers generally consider him something far less than "cute".]

Fall2's big brothers tend to be rather overprotective. Fall2 was a very late walker and when he was finally practicing standing, I caught Spring7 sitting him down. I watched a bit more and every time Fall2 tried to stand, Spring7 rushed over and sat him down and said gently, "No, no Fall2. You don't want to get hurt." I told Spring7that his brother needed to get stronger so he could walk. Spring7 looked at me like I was encouraging his baby brother to crawl on the roof..."But Mommy, he could FALL." [Thank goodness, nature is more persistent than big brothers and Fall2 did learn to walk. I had an image in my head of Spring7 hauling him everywhere in a homemade rickshaw.]

To his credit, Fall2 is a remarkably sweet and cute two year old. He's a pack animal and is happiest when his family is all together. Lately, Fall2 has made it clear that he likes his place in the family. He's also become obviously jealous when I pay a lot of attention to his brothers or Mike.

Over Easter weekend, he stooped to a new low. Winter4 hurt his knee so I got down on the floor with him to inspect the damage and dry his tears. I happened to notice Fall2 observing us. He watched for a minute then he pretended to cry and ran to me holding his head saying "bump! bump". I wonder if he'll ever realize that being the fourth child means that while he gets lots of love it also means that Mom isn't going to fall for drama?!

Mom Always Loved Me Best!

I have a habit of telling each of my boys, "You're my favorite [insert age] year old boy!" Summer10 is old enough to have figured out that he's my only 10 year old boy so of course, he's my favorite one. He still likes it anyway.

Last week, while I was getting Winter4 ready for bed, I gave him a big hug and told him that he was my favorite 4 year old boy. [I'll admit that I was thinking, "I still love you after all the trouble you've caused today.] I thought we were alone but I later realized that Spring7 had been lurking. Shortly after Winter4 was in bed, Spring7 came up to me and whispered, "Mommy, you should be careful what you say. We know I'm your favorite boy."

I worry about emotionally providing well enough for each of my boys. If I raise each boy thinking that they're my favorite, I'm probably doing okay!

I just hope I don't have to listen to that argument when I'm on my deathbed. "Mom always loved ME best!" "No! Mom always loved ME best!" Four times over!

Green Food but It's Not St. Patrick's Day

One of the after school rules in our house which should be so simple to follow is "Put your lunchbox on the kitchen counter." I don't care which counter as long as it gets to the kitchen so I can unpack unused napkins which probably should have been used, wash the plastic utensils, clean out any half eaten bits and refreeze the ice pack. Spring7 inevitably forgets. It isn't usually a big deal...it might slow down my morning a little but it's not something I get upset about.

Until this morning. My boys have been on spring break since April 2. As usual, Spring7's lunch box wasn't in the kitchen. He retrieved it from his backpack and handed it to me. I found a ziplock with something flat and green under his ice pack. What could possibly be flat and green, you ask? SALAMI! Salami that's been in a lunch box for a week and half. I wish I was exaggerating when I say that it was fuzzy and drippy at the same time. What better to find at 8 in the morning before coffee?! Needless to say, I did not find the humor. Needless to say, my boys did.

To My Neighbors

An open letter to my neighbors.

Dear Neighbors,

If you noticed a NAKED four year old running through your backyard this evening, it was indeed my son. Apparently, my leaving the room to get pajamas provided ample time to for my child to leave the house and go outside and play...NAKED. We realized he was missing when we heard a big brother shout, "Winter4, go inside NOW!" Not only did he run into our backyard but he also ran into several other backyards. I am counting my blessings...he's home safely, child services has not arrived at my house and none of my wonderful neighbors was having a cookout.

Silly Putty...The Devil's Play Dough

I'm known for being exceptionally tolerant of messy things--play dough, paint, glitter, glue, markers, crayons, various goos and gels, Moon Sand (for a while, then even I'd had enough and it disappeared in the dark of night). Everything can get cleaned up and eventually scrubbed off the table. I have one exception...silly putty, a product surely invented by a father, not a mother.

A couple of years ago, I spent part of an afternoon cleaning silly putty out of my carpet and instituted Rule #310 (I don't really have that many rules), Silly Putty Shall Never Enter Our Home Again. Two years pass and Summer10 comes home from school all excited, "Hey, look what I bought from the school store!" Apparently, he'd forgotten all about the carpet incident and Rule #310. Against my better judgement, I told him he could keep it but to remember that it's disaster waiting to happen.

Two days later, at 11:00 on a Friday night, I hear a sheepish knock on my door. Summer10 enters with silly putty completely covering his hands. He'd been playing with it so much that it was no longer sticky so he thought he could wet it down, clean it off and therefore make it more sticky. Water indeed made it more sticky in a liquid sticky sort of way made worse by Summer10 trying to get himself out of the mess. Mike, Summer10 and I laughed until we cried. The Devil's Play Dough had led him into temptation and he paid the price.

Removal was not easy and involved a lot of time, warm water, soap and a very coarse wash cloth (which had to go into the trash).

A new rule has since been instituted. Rule #311 Silly Putty Shall Never Enter Our Home Again, and I Mean It This Time.