My baby on our four-legged baby last spring

kyler on Junebug, spring 2010

car crazy

Let's go 3 for 3 shall we? The last two posts have been about kids and cars, so we'll just continue that here. Kyler is 9 1/2. The legal driving age in the state of Arkansas is 16. He's been very upset lately. It seems the local Ford dealership sold the Mustang he had picked out. He has recently become very obsessed with Mustangs, and he had decided that THAT Mustang should be his. Seriously. Very upset. . . I may not make it through the actual teenage years.

We R Redneck, edition 562

Through this blog, I've slowly allowed myself to accept the idea that I am, in fact, redneck. (You might remember THIS post. . .) Kevin has always readily admitted his redneck tendencies, which he has passed willingly and purposefully to our children. Want proof? In language arts, Kyler has been studying parts of speech. His teacher had them make a mobile of sorts in which the students named nouns. Kyler had the following nouns listed.

• His best friend
• Michael Waddell, a professional hunter who appears in most hunting videos that Kyler has watched
• tree stand
• the local tire shop
• Bass Pro Shops
• tom turkey
• coon

Kev is way more proud of this than I am. I am wondering where I went wrong. . .

what was he thinking?

Kyler's school is having a party for those children who met their reading goals in 3 out of 4 semesters. I am very proud to say that Kyler has met his goal in each semester so far. That makes me a little curious as to why he's suddenly trying so hard to make his goal in this last semester. I receive an email each time he takes a quiz over a book. Recently, he has started taking a quiz on every book he's ever read. . .or apparently, every book he's never read. This morning, I received this email. . .

Dear Rachel,

Kyler took an Accelerated Reader Reading Practice Quiz.
Title: El Capitán Calzoncillos y la invasión de las horribles señoras...
Author: Dav Pilkey
Score: 30% correct, earning 0.0 points

My son, the monolingual speaker. . .We obviously need to have a chat.

my stinky child

What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails,
That's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice
And all that's nice,
That's what little girls are made of.

We've all heard the rhyme. I always thought it was a little bit of a disservice to little boys, but what do I know. . .After having a little boy AND a little girl, I can attest to the fact that they are completely different. Kyler is definitely ALL boy. And that? That can mean stinky, smelly, and gross.

I once again have a horrible smell emanating from my car. (The most embarrassing part of that sentence is the "once again".) Anyway, the last time I had this odor in my car, I found a mildewed, dirty, icky sock crammed way back under Kyler's seat. I'm still trying to locate this smell. . .As to what little boys are made of, I can't be sure, but I can assure you the smell is reproachable.

a rare romantic moment

We went canoeing this weekend--more about that later. As the shuttle (an old school bus) was taking us to the river, Kyler turned around and caught Kevin and I stealing a kiss. He asked, "Are you guys having a romantic moment back there or what?!" To which Kev replied, "We haven't had one of those in 9 long years. . ." ; )

only I could. . .

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town.

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town on the way to take Kyler to school.

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town on the way to take Kyler to school on the very day that we're running late.

Only I could get stopped for speeding in the middle of our small town on the way to take Kyler to school on the very day that we're running late AND Kyler has his class field trip.

[sigh]

Yes, I am THAT mom. . .

*The very nice policeman gave me a verbal warning to slow down. This was far better than Kyler's fear of me getting a ticket for $7,000 and not being able to pay it. . .apparently, speeding tickets are costly in Paradise--who knew?!

A Public School Presidential Education

There are many people who question our current educational system. Arkansas, in particular, has had many recent changes in hopes of improving our state’s ability to teach our children what they need to succeed. Being a graduate of this great state’s educational system myself, I never really doubted my son would receive an adequate education (with the possible exception of doing math in my head—I still can’t do that. . .). Recently, I’ve come to question what exactly he is learning. It seems Kyler has confused this man. . .

With this man. . .

That’s right. He thought Abraham Lincoln was Elvis. What ARE they teaching him?

This post is intended as a joke. It is in no way intended to be a reflection on Kyler's current or former teachers, who by and large, have been phenomenal!

it's possible we're not in (ar)kansas anymore: when winter hits arkansas

Arkansas averages one good snowfall a year. To us, that means we get 1 or 2 inches of snow that the kids make (muddy, rocky) snowmen out of. This year, we've already had two good snowfalls, including last week's 7 (!) inches. A 7-inch snowfall all but REQUIRES everyone not using a walker to get out and play in it. Out came the boots, the snow suits, the gloves, the. . .WHERE ARE THE HATS? WHO HAS A HAT? WHERE DID YOUR HAT GO?!

My question to the more northern readers: How do y'all do this ALL winter long? Is it possible to surgically attach gloves or hats to children?

Kev drove more than 8 hours in ice and snow to see us. That's love. I'm not sure if it's love for me and the kids, his dog, or playing in the snow, but I'll take what I can get.

Sunday (since it was the blizzard of the year and church was cancelled--seriously.), Kev took the kids to his brother's house to sled. Sledding around here involves a 4wheeler, a rope, and something else. Sleds are SO optional. The guys sledded until they removed all snow AND grass from the ground. Not everyone can come home from sledding muddy. . .

My niece (possibly the smartest of the bunch) decided to build a snowman instead of being on the redneck-ride-of-death-and-dismemberment. Kady found the buttons she had "forgotten" on the snowman and returned them. Oops. I guess we need more practice at the snowman bit.

they are not most children

Most children have an imaginary friend. My daughter has an entire imaginary school, including 3 rotating teachers. Her teachers' names are Anna (pronounced "awna"), Anka, and Ona. Anna must be the lead teacher, because she frequently issues commands. Within the last week, Anna has issued two very important commands that Kady has relayed to us. The first was a directive for "PINK (Mommy, they MUST be pink!) ice-skates from Wal-Mart." We live in Arkansas. There are no ice skates within 100 miles. . .

The second directive came after Kyler announced that he MUST read the Star Wars book he checked out from the library. This book would give him all the points he needs to meet his reading goal, so he NEEDS to stay up until 9 or 10 EVERY night to read. . .

Without missing a beat, Kady said,

"My teacher, Ms. Anna, said I have to read the new Elmo book, so I have to stay up and read too!"

How long before they can totally and completely manipulate me? It's obviously VERY close. . .

*****************************

On a very different note, please continue to pray for those affected by the Haiti tragedy. If Only I had Super Powers directed me to a very touching blog written by a worker at an orphanage in Haiti that was killed during the earthquake last week. You can read about her work and experiences HERE.

socially inappropriate behavior by the parents

Kyler is my ear child. He would be a perfectly healthy child except for those darn ears of his. The child has had multiple sets of PE tubes, a tonsillectomy, an adenoidectomy, and even a frenectomy (He was tongue-tied.). We spent New Year's Eve getting another set of tubes placed. If you'll recall, I'm a speech-language pathologist, so I was familiar with this physician outside of being my son's doctor. Kevin and I both went.

OK. Now that I've set the stage. . .

The doctor comes in and introduces himself to Kev (who had never met him). The doctor then procedes to tell us what they (himself adn his wife) will be doing to ring in the new year. The doctor, whom we saw at his main office also has an office/home in Paradise, which he made reference to. In response, I announced, "I WONDERED what you were doing."

I really hadn't. . .

But at that point, it was more uncomforable to correct myself.

The doctor once again mentioned Paradise, stating that he would be driving there when he finished up with Kyler. Kevin, being the completely-friendly-but-total-smart-aleck that he is, said, "You could just ride with us," which was never intended as an actual solicitation. . .I mean, we were in the "big city," with specific shopping needs ahead of us. We were not missing this opportunity.

The doctor was very quiet for a L O N G moment before replying, "Um, thanks, but I'll just drive myself."

As the awkwardness died away (i.e., The doctor left the room.), Kev and I had one thought: Our first restraining order was approaching.

Parents. . .you just can't take them out in public.

don't judge

The Scene: After a long day of playing in the snow, it has just been discovered that Kyler is the second victim of the chicken pox invasion. He has spots covering his whole body and is running a low-grade fever. Mom and Dad are also fatigued to the point of exhaustion.

Me: Almost time for bed!

Kyler: Mo-o-om, I don't have school tomorrow. . .Please let me stay up late!

Me: OK, you can stay up until 9:00, but it's already 8:30.

Kyler: YES!! [fist pumping]

The actual time:

Don't judge us.

Nana, the secret running back

My son is a little obsessed with football this fall, after just completed his first season of REAL football. (It was awesome.) He plays football. He watches football. He shops for football stuff. He talks football. The kid likes football. Therefore, the following conversation should not have caught me as off-guard as it did.

Kyler: Mom, did Nana every play football?

Me: Nana? Play football? No, I don't think so.

Kyler: Yeah, did she play football?

Me: No, girls don't play football. [Forgive me. My brain was travelling in many directions trying to figure out where this was going.]

Kyler: No, Mom, like H. Did Nana play football?

Me: No, son, she did not.

Kyler: Are you sure? Because she had 2 of those mouth guards at her house. I asked her, and she said they were not Papa's. SHE SAID they were hers. Are you sure she didn't play football?

The mouth guards in question? They belong with this. . .

Question: What position do you think my mom secretly played before she was my mom?

favorite kyler quote of the month (so far)

"Well, whoever finds my underwear can just have it!"

This was said after my 9 year-old son attended a birthday party at an indoor pool. Apparently, his underwear miraculously wandered out of his locker and off to play basketball. . .or something. Yes, he is definitely my son.

not one of our better parenting moments*

***Warning: This post is the least family-friendly post I've ever posted. You might NOT want to let your kiddos read this. You know, do as I say and not as I do. . .***

I let Kyler listen to a song that was questionable in nature. OK, not so questionable. It was inappropriate. I let him listen to the song by the Zac Brown band titled "Toes in the Sand." The song begins "I've got my toes in the water, *ss in the sand. . ."

(In my defense, I'm in desperate need of a vacation, and the song makes me feel like I'm on a beach somewhere. . .)

I know. Who knew he was actually listening to this stuff. . .

Anyway, after explaining that he could listen to it but he had to sing it the edited-for-radio version (toes in the water, toes in the sand. . .), I stupidly thought all was well.

Until we got to the phrase about rolling a big fat one.

Yup. You read that right.

Of course, he wanted to know what that meant. I used the age old response of all parents who are chicken: "Ask your dad!"

I then mentioned to Kev that this was coming.

Kev & Kyler had some daddy-son time this weekend, whereupon they discussed rolling a big fat one. Yes, we are JUST LIKE the Cosby family. . .

Apparently, it means you roll a big fat girl across the sand at the beach.

I'm not sure what's worse: the answer Kev gave, the fact that that answer was way better than what I would have said, or the fact that I let him listen to such an inappropriate song in the first place. . .

So, if you can, please resist calling DHS long enough to tell me about your uh-oh parenting moment. Please? And I'm totally available to babysit anytime. . .

just another day in our crazy lives

Kyler had his last football practice of the year last night. Then, we managed to eat (LOTS) at the local Mexican food establishment. As we left, I thought out loud about having forgotten to go to the bathroom. I was laughing as I said, "How can someone FORGET to go to the bathroom?" Kyler replied, "It's easy. I do it all the time!" And he does.

Kady's at her grandma's, eating Popsicles for breakfast on this chilly morning. She was adamant that she ALWAYS has Popsicles for breakfast. She doesn't. I promise.

I'm off to another busy day at work, and one more weekend of working. . .(3rd in a row) Have a great weekend!! Go Hogs go!!

just my luck. . .

Kyler played peewee football this season for the first time. It has been a real learning experience for his whole team. They've went from knowing nothing about football to playing some really good ball. I have thoroughly enjoyed watching him play.

However.

(This is the part he'll kill me for later.)

Winning has been one of the lesser skills we've learned. We've learned how to lose gracefully and not so gracefully. We've learned how to lose close games and "wow-is-that-the-score-and-how-did-they-get-that-many-points?" games. Actually, we only won one game.

Until last night.

Something clicked. I don't know what. I don't know what was different. . .(except my son carried the ball three times for three first-downs, thank-you-very-much! Not that that was the only difference, but. . .) Those boys just played awesome.

Now, you might remember that I'm a huge Razorback fan. [screaming "woo pig sooie" in background] We only get two tv channels, so I've had to make do with listening to football games on the radio. I've listened to almost every game, and I did spend last weekend glued to the tv as we ALMOST beat Florida. (I know "almost" doesn't count, but DUDE, it was this close!!!)

I was SO excited to spend this weekend at my own house watching the Hogs demolish Mr. [mutters under breath] Nutt. (Mr. Nutt used to be our head coach, but then he became a traitor and Petrino became our SUPERMAN coach. Caught up yet?) This is a HUGE game. SO excited. . .

Kyler's football team now plays at the same time as the Hogs. [sigh] You know I'll be watching my boy, but. . .GO HOGS!!!

Lesson learned: Never say your plans out loud. The universe has a way of demolishing your plans. . .

like mother like son

My son can be a little blonde. I have no idea where he gets it. Then again, I once walked into a glass door, leaving lipstick prints on it. The glass door was in my small hometown at my mother's place of employment. Can we all say, "SMOOTH?!" I guess he comes by it naturally.

This weekend, we were attempting to turn into a bank parking lot. It was impossible. Apparently, you can't turn in if you're travelling west, but if you go up one block, double back, and travel to the east end of the parking lot, you can get there. Got that?

After finally pulling up to the ATM, I said, "I've never been so confused in my life."

To which my son replied, "Boy, I have."

because nana said so

This week is the book fair at school. Kyler was very excited to take his money and pick out a few books.

Kyler: I had to ask that lady in the book fair how much my book was. She said it was $7.00, but you know what?

Me: What?

Kyler: That was the price in CANADA! It was only $5.00 here. I still had money left over!

Me (because I love to hear how his mind works. . .): Why do you think things cost more in Canada?

Kyler: Because they have more money there.

Me: Oh, really?

Kyler: What? That's what Nana said.

And we all know Nana is always right. . .even when she doesn't remember actually saying that. . .

my little (big) man

Kyler started 3rd grade on Wednesday. His teacher is a "hottie," in case you're wondering. He'll probably need three years of therapy when he finds out I quoted him about that on my blog. . .Oh, well, it won't be the only thing he needs therapy about.

Back to school. As a mom who works full time, I was really sad to see summer end this year. I miss getting to stay up later watching movies or taking a day off to go swimming, etc. (Not that we actually did much of that, but the option was there, ya' know?) However, I think 3rd grade is going to be a great year for my little (big) man. He came home yesterday and said, "It was AWESOME!" Praise from an 8-year-old does not get better than that.

When I dropped Kyler off at school this morning, my little (big) man asked me to walk him into his class one last time. It truly may be the last time, because I know that soon he won't want me to do anything for him. Having your mother walk in with you will be SO humiliating (with accompanying eye roll, if he's anything like I was. . .Note to self: Have I said sorry today to my parents?) I'm really surprised he allowed it now. This is the same child that began dressing himself at 2 1/2 years of age and taught HIMSELF how to ride a bike without training wheels. (There was a longer wait at the baby sitter's house for the bike with training wheels, so one day, he worked and he worked and he fell down and he worked and he fell down and he. . .until he could ride a bike without training wheels.)

I'm not sure how I got lucky enough to walk in with him this morning, but I'm grateful for these days--these days when I see that flicker of the little boy that he will always be to me. God truly blessed me when he gave me my little (big) man.