Friday, November 23, 2007
The boys came down from an hour of silence upstairs (doing who knows what? refer to the Silence is Golden post earlier today) to request some lunch. I put my Christmas playlist on my ipod speaker and the boys and I jammed to "Run Rudolph Run" while I reheated Thanksgiving leftovers.
Jake scoffed at my lunch menu and disappeared. I stopped periodically to dance with Harrison and he just giggled and laughed and put his hands up for more when I would return to finish preparing his lunch.
One time, I picked him up and cradling him like a baby, I spun around and he giggled while watching the ceiling spin. I stopped, nuzzled his nose mimicking an eskimo kiss and listened to him giggle. Although today is a holiday for most (except Jason, who is at work trying to "carve out a living" as he calls it), it is these moments that make me truly thankful that I can be home with him, to play with him, dance with him and listen to him laugh during the day.
Harrison made a fireman dog, named "Fire Dog". The kids had a great time creating their new friends, not all bears, and then we headed back to the house for his paw print cake, ice cream and presents. The kids even played a few rounds of hot potato and once the prizes were all awarded, they lost interest in favor of exploring Harrison's new presents.
Harrison really digged being the center of attention and I know he just loved having his friends and family there to celebrate his big day.
His actual birthday was on Thanksgiving, November 22nd, which we acknowledged by covering his bed with balloons for him to find when he woke up. Guess he'll have to share his birthday and the attention with the turkey every few years.
- Jake has covered Harrison with a blanket and is holding him down, so he can't breathe.
- Harrison has banged his head at just the right spot so he's passed out, unconscious.
- Jake has opened the window screen and they both climbed out and are now lying, dead on the driveway from playing superman from the second story roof.
- Harrison is contently stuffing an entire roll of toilet paper into the toilet, followed by an entire container of baby wipes, while Jake silently watches tv in the playroom.
Jason worries faster than I do, so he puts his paper down and heads upstairs to check on them. I am immediately summoned to see what they've been up to and I've been instructed to hurry. As I get closer to the playroom, I hear a child song, probably Pop Goes the Weasel (or something similar) playing from the Leap Frog music radio in the closet. Jake is lying on the ground, facing the open closet. I look in the closet and Harrison is sitting on top of some bookshelves, grooving to his music. I have no idea how he got up there and even less idea of how he was planning to get back down, but for the moment he was happy. Although we made it pretty clear he wasn't to climb up there again, I had to take a picture to give you (my readers) a visual.
Boys will be boys.
Monday, November 05, 2007
I learned early on with Jason that he couldn't even tell me the smallest white lie while looking me in the eye. He always looks away at the very moment the lie is being exposed OR he'll attempt to look me in the eye while smiling.
For example, a few years ago, shortly after I'd gotten a new car, I noticed a few small blue streaks on the corner of my back bumper. "Jason, did you scrape my car with the trashcan while you were trying to get it out of the garage?" "No, I don't know what you're talking about," said while looking down. As I got closer and repeated the question, Jason giggled while looking at me even before he tried to proclaim his innocence.
So far, it seems, the boys have inherited this very useful trait from their daddy and I'm hoping that, like their daddy, they don't outgrow it or practice overcoming it. It will come in very useful in their teenage years.
Harrison now: "Harrison, are you pooping in your pants?" "No," as he looks at the ceiling.
Harrison later: "Harrison, did you have three girls in your room last night?"
Jake now: "Jake, did you stuff the toilet with all of this toilet paper?" "No," as he tries to hide a smile and looks to the side.
Jake later: "Jake, did you put tire tracks with your truck in the neighbor's front yard?"
Saturday, November 03, 2007
We're considering making one game a year an annual tradition. Barbara's husband, Max, is an Aggie too, but with Jason a longhorn, I'm not sure how that will work out. I'm sure I'll have to share my college brainwashing with Jason at some point.