Summer triumph!

My little four-year-old just passed the "swim test!" There are three very fun slides at our pool. But they end in 11 feet of water. So to go on the slides, you have to be able to tread water for 30 seconds and then swim across the pool and back. Then and only then, are you awarded the coveted hot orange bracelet of glory that entitles you to use the slides. (When Brooke earned her's, she wouldn't let me take it off for a week).

Today was the last day of summer swim and the end of our family pass. Brett worked with Ben for a while today and Ben swam his little legs off... and he did it!!!!! The look on his face was priceless. He was so tired and smiling from ear to ear. I don't think he left the slides until they closed two hours later.

I have to admit, I loved the look of surprise on the life guards faces, each time they traded stations and saw this little tiny guy going on the slides.

So, we started out with the oldest being able to doggy paddle and the others knew how to sink. Now They all three can swim and dive well. Madi has learned three strokes and can swim pretty fast. This has been the best summer that I can remember. These may seem like small accomplishments... but we had such a blast doing it. I'm going to miss our care free days.

What's hiding under the bed?

I am one of those horribly mean moms that put their children through the grueling task of clean their own bedrooms. My oldest was breathing hard and looking at me with pitiful eyes after about ten minutes of cleaning her room.

The girls feigned disbelief when I crawled under their bed and shoved all the stuff they'd just "put away" back to their original place on the floor so they could start again.

But Ben was the best... after I asked him if his room was clean:

Ben: Yes, it's clean.

Mom: "Why don't we go and check your room first and then you can play."

Ben: "You don't need to check under the bed."

PAUSE....

Ben: "Actually, could you not check under the bed?"

Hmmmmm

Ironically two

Last week I told my sister-in-law that I seemed to have lucked out with my two-and-a-half-year-old. "I guess we skipped the terrible twos." I told her... Oh the irony!

As soon as we were home from our camping trip, Connor decided to mount a full on attack of any peace and serenity that I might have felt before. Raiding the pantry, fridge and freezer on a regular (every five minutes) basis is a must. Trails of crumbs and sticky substances have more than once led me to the guilty party.

Nothing of edible nature is safe... no matter how high I try to hide it. Tuesday I hosted a brunch and ten minutes before everyone arrived Connor was in the kitchen mutilating the cake and stuffing handfuls in his mouth as fast as he could. I had the intention to scold... but his chipmunk cheeks stuffed full of cake were just too funny. I asked him if he did it. He repentantly said yes. I asked him if it was good. His second "yes" was more enthusiastic and less repentant.

Playing with the toilet offers him endless entertainment. He thinks that everything in the house would benefit from a dip in those shining waters. I guess that is motivation enough to keep the toilets scrubbed and sparkling. I have spent more time following trails of toilet paper and re-rolling them than I care to tell.

He loves to spray his siblings with the spray bottles I use for ironing and doing the kids hair. Unfortunately, sometimes he chases them around spraying other bottles... like hairspray.

Most of his mischief is done when things are a little too quiet. But any of you who are acquainted with my youngest know that he is not the most talkative of the bunch and its hard to tell when he is just being quiet and when he is DOING while being quiet.

While writing this post I have had to stop and RUN to clean up/rescue him or his disasters no less than ten times. Not that any of this will come as a surprise to those of you who have raised or are raising children... and heaven knows that I shouldn't be surprised after doing this three other times. But I guess this "destruction mode" does catch me unaware each time. I mean they change from super-cute, sweet little things to.... well, messy, super-cute little things OVERNIGHT! I have to run... there is another disaster in progress. Hope "my suffering" at least makes you smile. Have a happy day!

All my little fish!

We've been at the pool almost every day this summer. Brett gets to come with us on his days off or in the evenings. The kids love it when their daddy can come!

Brooke has learned to swim and can now go down the big slides... which she is SO EXCITED about.

Madi wants to try out for swim team.

My little beach bunnies.

Ben and his diving stick. Those things have provided hours of fun.

Ben spends more time under the water than he does above it. He just comes up for air and then submerges again. (Sometimes it freaks me out when I am scanning the pool for him and can't see him right away).

Connor has no body fat to keep him warm... so he can handle about fifteen minutes in the water at a time. In between swims he likes to snuggle in his towel.

Hee hee! My little man and his goggles... he likes to wear them just like the big kids. It always makes me laugh.

Skeeter bites Aaaaahhhh!

I remember skeeter bites when I was little... they itched. And we used to make little indented crosses with our finger nails in them. But I don't remember them swelling so much that they restrict movement. And I am actually disciplined enough not to scratch them now. Sheesh!

For some reason, this summer, walking out our front door is the equivalent of heading to camp as far as mosquitoes go. I have to wear a bee suit or dunk myself in a vat of deep wood Off just to pull a few weeds. I am paranoid to leave my small fry out when dusk hits for fear of them being carried off by ravenous swarms of these blood thirsty winged vampires.

We went for a walk yesterday (in shorts and capris). I thought I had twisted my ankle when woke up this morning... it was hard to move and really swollen. Nope, just one skeeter bite. We look like we have ca-ankles now. Brett teases the kids and I about using the "after bite itch spray" stuff all the time. All I can say is: "Ahhhh" after I put it on. (The kids say it too now and I laugh every time).

After seeing Connor's reaction to a skeeter bite on his face (about three posts ago) I thought maybe he was allergic. Now I just think that the nasty critters have developed a mutated venom from all the bug spray they encounter. Love summer! Hate skeeters!

Too smart for his own britches!

YESTERDAY: Each of my children wanted the last cupcake. But since they'd all had their share it was for daddy. Ben, on tip toe and nose in the container, was eyeing the cupcake with longing. I turned to put a dish in the sink and when I looked again I noticed a hole in the cupcake the exact size of a little finger. Ben saw me studying the hole and said, "Some one must have poked a hole in it Mommy. Do you want me to eat it now?"

"No." I said. "I think we'll still let Daddy have it."

"OK, Mom, it was me... but since I already touched it... do you want me to eat it?"

"No Ben. It's for Daddy.

"But I touched it and my germs are all over it. I think I have to eat what I touched."

This is where it all began to make sense for me. Only touch what you are going to eat... or take the once you already touched... are not uncommon to hear at our dinner table as the kids are dishing themselves up. Little smarty pants!

TODAY: I was in the grocery store with all four munchkins in tow and was trying to expedite the process. Ben picked up a bottle of caramel ice cream topping and begged. I said we didn't need it and as he dropped it, I asked him to put it back carefully and was explaining the "You break it you buy it" thing. He proceeded to grab the bottle back off the shelf and throw it against the ground. (Thankfully it was plastic and just bounced without breaking).

I was baffled! This was not like Ben, even in tantrum mode. Madi had to clarify it for me. She laughed and said: "He wants you to buy it Mom." All I could do was laugh. This little boy and his thought process is keeping me on my toes.

Babysitting Houdini

One of my running buddies has a beautiful chocolate lab that my dog loves to romp with (frequently trying to trip us when we run). When my friend left town, she asked me to babysit her dog. "No problem." I thought, "The two dogs will wear themselves out and sleep the rest of the day in the kennel. I quickly learned that I am babysitting a Houdini.

I should have realized this the last time I had the dog over to romp with mine. She just happened to find the only loose board in the whole fence and slipped right through.

Well today, about 30 seconds after I put her in the kennel, she stood on the water dish and climbed up the chain link and was out. So, plan B: I put a piece of ply-wood over that half of the kennel and replaced the tall water dish. The dog looked at me like, "You've got to be kidding me!" It took all of two minuted before I had to resort to plan C. I was feeling pretty good about plan C: a heavy tarp tied over the top of the ply-wood and the rest of the kennel. I all but put my hands on my hip and mentally challenged her to "Get out of that if you dare!"

I could see her analyzing her situation and the new design as she paced around the kennel. I was too slow with the camera because I couldn't believe how fast she was up and squeezing through the weak spot in the tethering. (Give a girl a break! I wasn't an Eagle scout). I kid you not... that dog was strutting as she glanced toward me: "Is THAT all you've got?"

My kids thought this was the best entertainment of the day.

The next design: A piece of lattice on top of the tarp and the ply-wood. It looks really ghetto, but I'm OK with that for a little while. As long as my four legged Houdini is still pacing on the inside of the fence. A bit demeaning perhaps, but I am feeling a strange satisfaction at out thinking a dog! Its been twenty minutes and she is still in there... the funny way she is looking at the gate makes me a little nervous that my dog may have shared a little too much info on the latch mechanism.