Tex and His Brothers

The very silly nickname of Tex has started growing on us.  No matter what this kid’s name ends up being, I have a feeling he’s going to go by “Tex.”  I’m already imagining his little personality, one that fits that name.   I have a feeling that though this little boy will have very few new things in his life, perhaps a pair of tiny baby cowboy boots might be in order.  A friend of mine joked that he’s one the lookout for a “one gallon hat” for the kid.  😉

I suppose in part to help me get excited over adding a third boy to the brood, my eldest two boys are being extra fun right now.  Yesterday Liam was tattling – “Jack isn’t sharing!”  I said “Jack isn’t staring?”  “No, Jack isn’t sharing.”  “Liam isn’t caring???”  “NO, Jack isn’t sharing!”  We went on like this for some time.  It took a surprisingly long time for Liam to get the joke – I think he, being surrounded by imbeciles, is very used to correcting people’s idiocy.  Eventually, though, everyone was giggling and taking turns making up nonsense rhymes: “Jack isn’t preparing!” “Liam isn’t scaring!”  And voila – we have left the original fight long behind in the dust.  It’s my newest Nonsense Fight Avoidance trick and I cannot imagine why I didn’t think of it before.

 

Liam and I very much enjoyed our special few days together.  Last Sunday in the early morning we went to the park, a large sprawling wooden structure that looks like a fort with a series of towers.  “My castle!” he hollered, and ran all over it . . . insisting that I follow close behind.  This old pregnant lady folded herself into some interesting spaces to keep up with him.  He wanted help on the monkey bars, on the little climbing wall, sliding down a pole and climbing up a rope, and Mama was there, huffing and puffing in the heat and grunting every time his little size 7 Stride Rites nailed a kick in the belly (which they did often, as this 16 week belly is pretty big already).

We took frequent breaks for juice boxes and fruit snacks, as he was sweating like it was his job, but we stayed over an hour.  Then we went to Lowes to buy a few plants, my favorite summer pastime.  He pushed the cart, oh Lord he’s at that age where he always has to push the cart and it makes everything soooooooo sloooooooow.  At one point I turned my back for three seconds and he was climbing up all over the plant display, trying to get to a flower up high.  He’s a limber little dude.

In any case, we hit Firehouse Subs on the way home, which is kind of a great place to take little kids for lunch because kids dig fire trucks.  He ate most of his turkey and cheese without even noticing he was eating it, just gazing around at all of the firefighter memorabilia and fake Dalmatians and thrilled to death to be wearing a plastic firefighter’s red hat.  Then we went home, he napped, I did laundry and a bit of work, and then when he woke I filled the pool in the backyard and he splashed.

At some point we went to the grocery, where he also pushed the cart, oh Lord grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change . . . and the patience to follow beatifically behind my child as he weaves a shopping cart ten times his size on an achingly slow zig zag path through the aisles, sweeping whole rows of carefully stacked goods off the shelves as he goes, and insisting that I not put a hand on it to help steer because “I do it myself.”

I forget what I made for dinner that night but I manifestly did NOT follow my little plan from last week.  Ha!  Ha ha!  That was cute!  Me thinking I’d muster up the energy to make exciting meals for just myself, with a preschooler running rampant at my feet and no adult helping hands.  Har har.  In the end, I think we had breakfast for dinner one night, I bought (moderately healthy) Wendy’s meals one night, and jarred Chef Boyardee another night.  Because, pregnant.  As soon as the husband and eldest returned, I got back into the swing of cooking.  In fact, we had a taco bar last night, at the sight of which my husband and I rubbed our hands and went “Ooooooh, yum,” and our sons turned up their noses and whined.  They ate none of it.  So much for THAT fun Friday meal.  I have to think of more personalizable assembly type meals for our Fridays, since we are saving up crazy-style for this baby’s birth (so expensive) and are limiting the eating out.

Once the other half of the family returned, we had a whirlwind end of the week.  Jack’s “meet the teacher” night was tacked onto the end of a long day of driving for him, and I really am not entirely certain that he twigged that he was in his new classroom, meeting his new teacher.  He was just so jazzed to be out of the car, and really excited that she had bought each of them a new bandanna to wear on “dress up Friday.”  (We had Zaxby’s chicken fingers for dinner that night – and nothing else.  Because, balanced diet?  Chicken is good for you?)  The next night was the first birthday party for our little buddy Walker, which was really a grown-ups dessert and cocktails evening.  To which several small children were invited.  This is sort of what it was like:

Suga High

I did manage to make Asian steak salad for dinner, before we headed over to the party and stuffed our faces with peanut butter chocolate balls and little mini cups of blueberry cobbler.

Friday – before the unpopular taco night torture – we went to watch Liam in his school “circus.”  I missed part of it, but caught Liam’s act – they were dressed as clowns (paper plate collars) and walked a tightrope (a line of tiny foam blocks a half inch off the ground).  It was cute.  Jack came to see, also, and got lots of hugs from his old teachers, which made me a little weepy about The Passage of Time, Sunrise Sunset, etc.

 

Aaaaaaand we’ll dump a few more photos in here for kicks, since I finally seem to have coached my iPhone into communicating with the laptop and can, once more, get pictures onto an actual computer.

The children are up now.  Both of them in my lap.  All three of them in my lap, I suppose, in a way.  With arms full of boy, it’s time to stop typing!