A gerbil, a mechanic, and a shepherd

Drew smells like a gerbil. I haven't told him, because I don't want to hurt his feelings. Although he loves animals so he might not mind. I think it is because he has been running a low grade fever and is sweaty, plus he has been drinking a lot of water and smells like pee. I bathe him, I swear. Although ever since the "Giant Poop Incident" last week he hates bathing. He has real anxiety that a log will just appear again in the bathtub. And he was the one who did it. I don't think he quite has it figured out that he can control it. Diapers for a few more months.
David took a wheel off his beloved Mini Cooper that he made on vacation with his Poppy. That's right, there is a place in Branson that you can create a car- you pick out all the details and help them put it together. For years now he has been taking his favorite cars apart. I have several cars that are just down to the hubcaps. I don't know how to stop him. It doesn't even bother him that they won't roll right. I am going to get him coveralls and let him hang out at an auto shop. I think they'll appreciate his help.
We took Scout on a three and a half mile jog this evening. She is learning to cope without her buddy. I think she may come lots of places with us, especially when the weather gets cooler. She loves car rides and doesn't mind being left. I can overlook the copious amounts of hair she leaves behind. It's not any worse than the dried bits of fruit snacks, Chex Mix, etc. that are floating around my vehicle. I love our German shepherd and I am going to work to make sure she isn't too lonely.

When life gives you lemons...

Drew has been so sick since Saturday. We had a small, family party planned with his cousins and we ended up having to cancel it on Sunday. Then we had a sad event happen that is too hard to talk about and too depressing to post on. All I can say is that I hope that good dogs really do go to heaven and that there aren't fireworks or thunderstorms there.

Anyway, the boys and I decided to make strawberry lemonade since Drew doesn't have much of an appetite and we had bought lots of strawberries for the party.

It ended up being a fun project albeit a little sticky. The boys' man paws are well suited to squeezing lemons and it was fun to blend and strain the strawberries.

Never have an ordinary day

I keep seeing this on a Pepperidge Farm truck while driving around town. There is a picture of a gigantic loaf of bread on the side. The bread is now faded and it doesn't look that delicious. What does that slogan even mean? If I buy more expensive bread or Milano cookies will my day be less ordinary? I don't even eat sandwiches for lunch, I eat Lean Cuisines. And the other day I had pumpkin ravioli. That wasn't ordinary.
Today we went to the park, bookstore and McDonald's drive thru. Now that may sound ho-hum. Except I met my good friend Amanda from college at the park. And since she lives in Washington it was out of the norm to see her. And Emilia's here. From Italy. So getting to see her and her kids is a definite bonus.
The bookstore? Hmmm... I am going to have to say that taking the boys to buy two birthday gifts there isn't a tame activity. Plus, it's Crazy Daze which means there was junk for sale outside the store as well as in. Doubly hard to round both boys up. There were fifty cent wind up toys and I bought two. They are a good restaurant toy. Anyway, I said to Drew, here let's get your chicken (David picked a skeleton, Drew picked a chicken wind-up toy.) David dropped the toys he was playing with in the bookstore and said, "Oooh I want to eat some chicken too." He then proceeded to beg me for Chinese chicken with red dip. And what do you know, there was a Chinese restaurant right next to the store. That didn't have one single customer in sight when we walked in. And it smelled like they had been cooking carpet and caterpillars in the back. So I marched the boys right out. Which caused a whining for chicken. "My tummy is so hungry for it." How about a Happy Meal? No dice. Luckily I reserve the right to make many of the decisions. And once I handed back a cheeseburger the sweet and sour chicken was forgotten. Crisis averted. Sort of. Still had to drive home while contorting my arm back to hand out food to two very, very hungry kids. Almost home. Kids eat quickly and ask for toys. My crafty reply is that they can have them when they are upstairs and in their beds. So while I try to eat a quarter pounder and drive I stuff two Teeny Beanie Baby koalas down my shirt. My pockets are already full with a pacifier and a rubber ball. Get out of car. Boys collapse and say they are too tired to walk. I drag them in and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The stuffed animals definitely give me a more womanly appearance but combined with the bulges in my pocket I looked like a lopsided transvestite. Oh well, no one to see me.
If I ate sandwiches for lunch, could my days be more ordinary?

Big boy/little people

The pediatrician confirmed that Drew is still big and tall for his age, but said that his "large pumpkin head's" growth has tapered off. Well, that's good. I think the Charlie Brown look is cute, but it's good to know he'll grown into his noggin. Keith took him to his two year appointment and David and I met them for the last part of the appointment. Once again I am thankful that he is the sort of dad who can do that stuff and doesn't mind.
David got a dino car track for a "brother present" from a good friend of ours. I don't think he has ever loved a toy so much. However- the T-Rex's foot is hard to get back to launch the cars and David said to me, "Mom, you do it, people like me can't do it." People like me? It just made me laugh.
We are still mourning the absence of fun Uncle Wes. The boys got to see Keith's little brother who has moved to Wyoming over the 4th of July weekend and they adore him! Hopefully, we can see him soon. I am uploading this video so that he can see it and see how even Drew talks about him lots-

Our #2 Turns 2

I can't believe Drew is two tomorrow. I remember the afternoon he was born like yesterday. Drew-Bee knows that tomorrow is his birthday and is really cute and excited about everything. We have been telling him about going to the hospital and how he was born on Friday the 13th at 3:21 on 7-13-07. It's kind of over his head. Just like the fact that we are waiting until his Italian cousins come to Oklahoma before we have a little party for him is too hard for him to understand. Don't feel bad for him though, tomorrow brings cupcakes and a twilight trip to Pelican Bay.

And because I am going to one day print these postings in lieu of a baby book, I'll add something else that he won't really grasp for years to come. Here goes-

Dear Andrew Ace,

We love you so much. Your dad and I are both second born children. And I suffered for years from a Jan Brady complex. We want you to know that although you are our "#2" you are not second place in our hearts. We didn't have you just so David would have a best friend. We had you because we wanted another little boy so badly. Don't ever think I wished for a nanosecond that you would be a daughter. I didn't. Everyone assumed I wanted a girl. Nope- I wanted you. My little blond boy with the one little white curl at the back of his head. You are perfect. You are loved. You are so special. Our family wouldn't be complete without you. Dad and I are constantly impressed by your determination and how you approach life.
Today, I feel that a chapter is closing; two year old's quickly turn into big boys, and although there is a lot of baby left in you, I know it won't be that way for long. The only thing that keeps me from being so sad about you getting older is the fact that you become more FUN every day. We loved you as a tiny, helpless newborn. We adore you as an active, happy, quirky toddler. You aren't second fiddle to David and you definitely aren't second rate to anyone. You just happen to be second born and are loved first rate.
Every day with you is a blessing. We thank God for you.
Love,
Mom and Dad

I don't know if I can handle it

Drew slept better than he ever has in his life while on vacation. It was fabulous. Really it's been almost four years since I got eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. We had bought a second toddler inflatable bed and each boy had their own cozy spot on the floor of our room. Upon arriving home I decided I couldn't deal with him waking up with his unreasonable demands. So we put one of the beds on the floor of David's room. And I had the brilliant idea to take apart his Wal-mart crib since it had been recalled. I reasoned that I could somehow get a bed rail and groceries in return for the killer crib. I would then be able to take the unspent grocery money and go to the rich people's store (Pottery Barn Kids) and buy beautiful, soft, cool boy Super Hero sheets and comforters. Oops. I was mixed up on the crib brand. Hadn't been recalled. So this week I was left with a crib that is now in the attic, and a toddler that did sleep better at night but is impossible to get settled down to go to sleep. The toddler's brother loves to sing/make animal noises/knock on the wall just when things get quiet. Drew keeps flopping around shouting "Snuggle!" in a deep yet nasal voice that doesn't match the cuddle he is begging for. I love the idea of having one room for sleeping boys and one room for toys. However, I am being reduced to a screaming wreck of a shrew twice a day in order to get them to bed. We have now gotten another twin bed (my mom had one) with a rail and are going to try it for a few more days. I have hours of laundry to do. Haven't talked to my cousin Shannon in days. Precious time has been wasted on this endeavor. But I am holding out- the result means more space for play, easier bed time routine, and the boys, for what their opinion is worth on this matter, prefer being with each other.

4th of July

I didn't get one picture. But you can't really blame me. By the time the 4th rolls around in my neighborhood, it's pretty anti-climactic. We live outside of city limits and apparently that means outside of the realm of all reasonableness when it comes to fireworks. It starts around June 20th, and the sound of explosives can be heard until well into July. Maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if our golden retriever wasn't terrified of loud noises. While we were out of town, we thought it would work to just kennel both dogs inside the house and have a college kid come and let them in and out several times. This way they would be out of the heat and shielded from the noise. No- this is what happened. That was after he flipped his cage and somehow managed to squeeze his large body out the bars. So what we thought we were saving on boarding them has now doubled in repairs.

But it hasn't all been bad. We discovered that we can heavily sedate Hank with a combo of Benadryl and melatonin. Nothing bothers him then. So starting at four o'clock on Independence Day, Keith and the boys began smoke bombs, Black Cats, etc. At one point as I was trying to unpack from vacation I looked out the window and realized both boys were in their skivvies running through clouds of blue smoke. I heard Keith say, "C'mon boys, let's go blow some more stuff up." It was as though he was some sort of patriotic Pied Piper as they stood back and watched cardboard tanks shoot across the sidewalk. When I checked on Hank he just smiled at me. He was pretty drugged. The thought flashed through my mind that my babies were playing with explosives and my canine was stoned. Great. Sometimes I am so thankful for Scout and the amount of calmness/doggy estrogen she provides.