My sweet Jack has been the main character of the first two posts of this blog and I promise that our other two children have stories that will be told...but once again I find myself feeling the need to share about Jack. There are numerous old stories that we are excited to share in the future, but today, I write about an incident that happened just over an hour ago.
The kids were hungry for lunch around 10:30 and against my better judgement to hold them off until at least 11:00, I decided to make lunch early. We ate leftovers which consisted of glazed carrots, roasted potatoes, and pork tenderloin. I have realized how fortunate we are to have children that eat pretty well, so I give them props for that. However, I do not give them props for the huge mess they create during each and every meal.
Jack finished eating lunch first. I wiped him off as best as I could, and then I told him to go to the bathroom to wash his hands. If you could have seen the mess left behind from just one child, you would also dream of putting your children through some kind of car wash after meals or simply have them eat in disposable bodysuits.
While Jack was supposed to be washing his hands at the bathroom sink (which is just off the kitchen) I started to wipe down Thomas and Caroline. I noticed that Jack had been in the bathroom with the door closed for way too long...so I opened the door and instantly my blood started to boil. If you know me, you know two things about me, I am a stickler for cleanliness and I have a terrible, horrible temper.
To my dismay, Jack had decided to not only wash his hands, but the entire bathroom as well. Soapy water covered the sink area and everything in reach of our 3 foot tall toddler. Bubbles were expanding, bursting, and popping all over the sink, the mirror, the toilet seat, the walls, and the floor. Water seemed to be cascading down all vertical surfaces. The only things missing were a wetsuit and a raft.
Jack saw the disappointment and anger on my face and sheepishly walked past me out of the bathroom. I sent him to his room while I cleaned up the monsoon and the rest of the lunch mess. After the 'water park incident' in the bathroom I went up to Jack's room to talk to him about what had taken place. When I walked into the room I found him standing on his bed with different clothes on and a backpack on as well. Jack had taken the liberty to change his clothes because they were obviously soaked and that's when I noticed he had put his shirt on backwards and his jeans were unbuttoned because that darn button is just too difficult for a 3 year old. He tried!
A smile swept across my face, and that's when I realized how silly it was for me to be so upset about a soapy bathroom. At least the floors and walls got a good cleaning!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The Famous Nordstrom Jeans Story
Greetings to all of the Blog's 5 loyal followers. One week in and Alison is deferring to guest writers on the blog. However, this story needs to be told in the first person. Let me take you on a trip back to the winter of 2010...
I hate shopping. I am perfectly content wearing the same clothes for years on end until Alison or my mother gives in an purchases something for me. This Christmas, Alison had bought me a pair of trendy jeans from Nordstrom. Those of you who know me can probably understand that I do not fit well into designer jeans ( I stick with "loose" or "baggy" fit out of necessity). So I was headed out the door for the mall when Alison thought it would be a great idea to let our two year old Jack tag along to make an exchange.
Things were slow at Nordstrom on that Thursday night and nice lady helped me find five pairs of 38X32's that are not as "slim fitting" as their usual stock (I soon found out that our ideas of "loose fitting" were incredibly different). Things were going well. Jack busied himself by hiding in the clothing racks and staring at store patrons. After gathering the 5 pairs of jeans, Jack and I headed to a fitting room so I could see if any of the pants made the cut.
Jack spent the first few minutes asking me what I was doing and who the people were that were talking on the other side of my dressing room. I mumbled some answer to him while focusing on squeezing myself into another pair of jeans that might have fit me 10 years ago. At about the time I pulled pair number three over my knees, Jack saw his opportunity and dove under the door of the dressing room with the agility of a cat. Immediately he took a hard right and raced down the hall toward the exit of the dressing rooms.
This is not happening. "If he makes it out to the store floor, i'm screwed," I thought as I attempted to pull up the jeggings that the woman must have given to me as a joke. As I watched Jack's feet disappear under the stalls it occured to me that I could not give chase with my pants around my knees so I kicked them off and courageously stepped out of the stall. Fear hit me immediately. No Jack.
As I raced down the hall I heard a very familiar voice from inside the last stall.
"Hi!"
It dawned on me that Jack was in a closed dressing room with a grown man who was trying on clothes. Khakis from the looks of it. Standing in a t-shirt and boxer briefs, I watched in horror as the door slowly opened and a faceless arm ushered my son out of the dressing room. Not a word was said.
Picking Jack up, I sprinted to my dressing room and threw on my jeans and shoes. Needless to say, I did not stick around and continue to shop. Lesson learned? Do not take a two year old shopping when the dressing room doors fail to go all the way down to the floor...or bring a leash.
Corey
I hate shopping. I am perfectly content wearing the same clothes for years on end until Alison or my mother gives in an purchases something for me. This Christmas, Alison had bought me a pair of trendy jeans from Nordstrom. Those of you who know me can probably understand that I do not fit well into designer jeans ( I stick with "loose" or "baggy" fit out of necessity). So I was headed out the door for the mall when Alison thought it would be a great idea to let our two year old Jack tag along to make an exchange.
Things were slow at Nordstrom on that Thursday night and nice lady helped me find five pairs of 38X32's that are not as "slim fitting" as their usual stock (I soon found out that our ideas of "loose fitting" were incredibly different). Things were going well. Jack busied himself by hiding in the clothing racks and staring at store patrons. After gathering the 5 pairs of jeans, Jack and I headed to a fitting room so I could see if any of the pants made the cut.
Jack spent the first few minutes asking me what I was doing and who the people were that were talking on the other side of my dressing room. I mumbled some answer to him while focusing on squeezing myself into another pair of jeans that might have fit me 10 years ago. At about the time I pulled pair number three over my knees, Jack saw his opportunity and dove under the door of the dressing room with the agility of a cat. Immediately he took a hard right and raced down the hall toward the exit of the dressing rooms.
This is not happening. "If he makes it out to the store floor, i'm screwed," I thought as I attempted to pull up the jeggings that the woman must have given to me as a joke. As I watched Jack's feet disappear under the stalls it occured to me that I could not give chase with my pants around my knees so I kicked them off and courageously stepped out of the stall. Fear hit me immediately. No Jack.
As I raced down the hall I heard a very familiar voice from inside the last stall.
"Hi!"
It dawned on me that Jack was in a closed dressing room with a grown man who was trying on clothes. Khakis from the looks of it. Standing in a t-shirt and boxer briefs, I watched in horror as the door slowly opened and a faceless arm ushered my son out of the dressing room. Not a word was said.
Picking Jack up, I sprinted to my dressing room and threw on my jeans and shoes. Needless to say, I did not stick around and continue to shop. Lesson learned? Do not take a two year old shopping when the dressing room doors fail to go all the way down to the floor...or bring a leash.
Corey
Friday, December 16, 2011
"Oh Crap" said the toddler
Some families like fake Christmas trees, some families like real Christmas trees. We happen to love the smell of a real tree in our home. I'll never forget the story about the first time Jack picked out a Christmas tree.
Thomas was just a few months old so he and I stayed at home while Corey and Jack went to pick out a tree. Corey and I wanted Jack to have the experience of picking out a tree and taking it home to decorate. Corey bundled up Jack in a puffer coat that made him look like a blue marshmallow. Jack hated wearing gloves, but he wore them because we told him he couldn't go unless he wore them (typical). Jack happily rode in the car full of anticipation and excitement! They pulled up to the hardware store in Cornith Square which is where the story really begins.
Corey and Jack walked through rows of hanging trees, looking for just the right tree. Jack found a tall, awkward tree that he liked, so Corey asked the hardware store employee to cut down the tree from the ropes above. Jack watched the tree fall to the ground and without a moment's hesitation he yelled, "OH CRAP!"
Well, Merry Christmas Mr. hardware store employee! I am sure you had a good laugh at my toddler who swore while picking out a Christmas tree. Corey of course, gasped, laughed, and was secretly so proud of his son on that cold December night!
Thomas was just a few months old so he and I stayed at home while Corey and Jack went to pick out a tree. Corey and I wanted Jack to have the experience of picking out a tree and taking it home to decorate. Corey bundled up Jack in a puffer coat that made him look like a blue marshmallow. Jack hated wearing gloves, but he wore them because we told him he couldn't go unless he wore them (typical). Jack happily rode in the car full of anticipation and excitement! They pulled up to the hardware store in Cornith Square which is where the story really begins.
Corey and Jack walked through rows of hanging trees, looking for just the right tree. Jack found a tall, awkward tree that he liked, so Corey asked the hardware store employee to cut down the tree from the ropes above. Jack watched the tree fall to the ground and without a moment's hesitation he yelled, "OH CRAP!"
Well, Merry Christmas Mr. hardware store employee! I am sure you had a good laugh at my toddler who swore while picking out a Christmas tree. Corey of course, gasped, laughed, and was secretly so proud of his son on that cold December night!
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Ready, set, go!
I have contemplated becoming a 'blogger' for about three years now. So what finally made me take the plunge? The answer is without a doubt, my three, small kids! I have been staying at home with my three children for nine months now and there are too many moments that have slipped by that should have been documented. Some moments were laugh-out-loud hilarious, some moments were definitely 'teaching' moments, some moments were full of tears, frustration, or even plain old anger. Nevertheless, this time in my life seems to beg for this sort of outlet! Let the games begin!
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