Ode to Tim & Faith

I sit here poised and ready to buy tickets to the Tim McGraw & Faith Hill Soul 2 Soul concert. Yet, even as my finger is about to hit that button, I can't believe that I'm doing it.

I'm not a concert-going gal. Don't get me wrong, I love jammin' out to a few tunes and people walking past my apartment may even catch a glimpse of me dancing in my living room. But I don't go to concerts. I can count on one hand the number of concerts I've been to in my lifetime. Well, on three fingers, to be exact. I don't even buy CDs. I once joined a CD club - you know, 12 CDs for the price of 1. It was actually a good experience and is the only reason I have the majority of my music collection. But I digress...

However, I love Tim & Faith. Together, they are beautiful - both musically and physically. Yet every summer I pass up the opportunity to see them and regret it beyond belief. Well, it's not going to happen this year. I'm coughing up the money and I'm going! And I'm dragging my sisters and mom with me.

July 20, 2007 - Mark that date on your calendar, girls! Tim & Faith, here we come!!!

Daddy's boy

It's the same routine every morning: Kyle awakes and comes into our room. He walks to my side of the bed, notices that it's me, and turns around to walk to Kevin's side of the bed. He then proceeds to climb in and we cuddle for a few moments until we all get up.

It's one of my favorite parts of the day, but I sometime wonder whether I should be offended at Kyle's obvious preference of Kevin over me. I've come to the conclusion that I shouldn't be. Sure, I spend almost 24 hours a day taking care of and playing with him. But I know he loves me. And let's face it, he's got a great dad. Not all kids have the luxury of a wonderful, hands-on dad who loves to spend time with his boy. It's a bond that I hope will last a lifetime.

However, this special bond is what has me dreading the 15 weeks of summer that our family will be separated. Sure, it will be difficult to be a single mom. And sure, Kevin's going to be lonely in Alabama all by himself. But Kyle has no idea what's coming to him. And there are no words to describe how much he's going to miss his daddy.

Here's hoping my boys' special bond can survive those 15 weeks.

Happy Easter!

It's safe to say that Kyle had a fabulous Easter. We awoke Sunday morning to the delighted gasps of a 3-year-old who had just discovered his Easter basket. Each item he pulled out was punctuated with surprise and delight.

"A book? I love this book!"
"A chocolate bunny? I told you I wanted a chocolate bunny!"
"A Superman kite? I love Superman!"

But the highlight of the entire day was the $3 foam rocket he got in his basket. He not only loves it, but it's now the envy of the entire playground. The day was so jam-packed with excitement, that it led him to proclaim:

"Easter is my favorite holiday! It's in the spring and I just love it!"

Maybe next year Santa Claus should just bring a basket filled with a few cheap toys.

A hunting we will go...

We had several egg hunts this year - one with friends, one with our neighborhood, and one at Grandpa & Grandma Turner's. While some were more fair then others (Grandma Turner's), Kyle was in top form and ran around collecting as many eggs as he could. The result was too many eggs filled with way too much candy, and a little boy on a sugar-high.


The picture on the right is at the neighborhood adult egg hunt. The eggs were hidden up in trees, in the dirt, and underneath piles of leaves. Kyle navigated his way through with a stick in order to help me in the search for eggs. But it must have worked because we walked away with a fabulous prize - dinner and a movie at the Gateway! Happy Easter to Kevin and Ruth! Kyle's help will be rewarded with a trip to the babysitter's while and mom and dad enjoy their night out.

Big Baby, I mean, Big BOY

Kyle decided to join me as I scrapbooked today. As we sat looking through Christmas photos, he pointed out one in particular:

"You see I'm not smiling, mommy?" Kyle asked me.
"Yes, I see that," I said. "Why aren't you smiling?"
"She called me a baby," he replied.
"Who called you a baby?"
"That girl who taked the picture."
"And that's why you're not smiling?" I asked incredulously.
"Yeah. 'Cause I'm not a baby. I'm a big boy."

He never said a word about it at the time, but apparently this little boy wasn't pleased to be called a baby. But I guess his frown says it all.

(For the record, he wasn't called a baby in a taunting sort of way. It was more like, "Let's make sure we can see the baby!" And he happens to be smiling in the very next picture.)

Just a spoonful of sugar...

I ran across this joke while browsing through "Reader's Digest" today and I related - not to the childproof cap, but to Kyle's aversion to medicine. No, aversion probably isn't the right word. It's more like detest, despise, abhor, loathe.

I watched in disbelief as a friend gave her son medicine today and he eagerly gulped it up. I'm surprised he didn't ask for more. She says he does on occasion. I watched in disbelief because Kyle has NEVER done that. He's detested medicine from the day he was born - no matter the flavor, texture, or color.

To get medicine down his throat is a feat only accomplished by two people - one to hold him down, one to sneak the medicine into the corner of his mouth. It's accompanied by thrashing, screaming, kicking, and crying. We've tried to give it to him in the middle of the night, hoping the delirium would make him less aware of the liquid we were trying to pour down his throat. Didn't work. We try disguising it in food. He can sense it. We've tried the dissolving strips that you stick on their tongues. We've tried it all and it always leads back to the two-man restraint method.

It seems that manufacturers are aware of parents like us. Tylenol has introduced a bottle of clear children's medicine that is to be mixed with a variety of different flavored powders, giving kids the opportunity to pick their poison. I briefly entertained this idea before deciding it was a gimmick that would ultimately be a waste of my $10.

As so it seems that I'm left with few options. Unless anybody has any secret tips. Anybody?

Greasy-Man

"Spider-Man, Spider-Man.
Lived his life in the garbage can."

I don't know if that's how the song really goes, but for some reason, that's how we sing it in our house. Especially since the Spider-Man obsession has begun.

I suppose it's inevitable - the obsession with cartoon characters or super heroes. Little girls run around in Disney princess dresses and talk about Prince Charming. Little boys fight off the bad guys and jump heroically from pieces of furniture.

Well, it's finally happened to Kyle. He LOVES Spider-Man. He's seen approximately 4 minutes of the movie, but it's been forever ingrained in his brain. He points out anything and everything Spider-Man at the grocery store.

"Look mom! Spider-Man stickers!"
"Look mom! Spider-Man sippy cups!"
"Look mom! Spider-Man underwear!"

You get my point.

But my favorite part of this whole obsession is his new imaginary best friend and cohort, "Greasy-Man." Together, he and Greasy-Man capture Kevin, wrestle him to the ground, and bind his wrists with "web." It's hours of rambunctious fun.

I'm glad I get to play the "damsel in distress" and sit quietly off to the side, reading my book, until Spider-Man rescues me.

There Was An Old Woman...

I've suffered from terrible headaches the past few days. As I sat at the kitchen table yesterday complaining about my symptoms to Kevin, Kyle piped in with a question:

"Did you turn into an old woman, Mom?"

Yes son, some days it seems as though I have.

Little Sneak

For two days, we've been storing $200 worth of easter candy for the annual neighborhood easter egg hunt. And for two days, my son has been snitching it. A morsel here, a morsel there - whenever my back is turned.

Initially, he was actually pretty sly about it. We didn't know he'd taken any until we noticed chocolate around the mouth.

However, his methods have become progressively less sly. He'll now wander into the kitchen with his hands cupped and a grin on his face. As he makes his way to the garbage can, he'll say, "Don't see!" Then he'll dump the evidence and run back to his bedroom, laughing, and pop another piece in his mouth.

Kevin and I want to reprimand him, but the whole process is just too funny. However, in an attempt to teach a lesson, Kevin said, "You don't need to sneak the candy. If you ask, we'll just give you some."

To which Kyle replied, "No, I don't want to ask! It's fun to sneak!"

I think we have a problem on our hands. And I think it's time for the candy to change storage locations.