Friday, September 28, 2007

Aidan Adventures

Aidan looks just like the cherub on my sidebar with innocent expression and all. Of course, he is definitely cuter. He can be very sweet and empathetic as well. He loves to cuddle and kiss and be an all-around little angel. There is another side to Aidan, though. It seems as if he is an angel one minute and a devil the next. He has been a busy little bee this week. This week, after school was over, I come upstairs to find cereal spread out over the family room. Another day, I had stupidly left out some spices on the kitchen counter one of them being garlic powder. After school, I come upstairs to find a fine layer of garlic powder on the kitchen floor and the bottle no where to be seen. Later on in the week, I find the rest of the garlic powder in with the summer clothes that I had put in bins to be stored when the weather finally gets cold. As I'm picking out clothes for the boys to wear, I have to shake off garlic powder in the process. A couple days ago, I make a couple apple pies. Again, my absent-mindedness cost me when I left out the cinammon. My kitchen smelled all cinammony fresh with another fine layer of it on the floor. Yesterday afternoon, he comes to my side all cherry and happy while I am doing Phonics with Justin. I smell cinammon. I knew there was no cinammon left from the bottle which had been thrown away, so I knew he had disobeyed me. Threats from mommy do not phase this kid even though I am consistent. There were two apple pies sitting on the stove and he just couldn't stand the temptation anymore. There was an Aidan-sized hole in one of my pies. That night, we had applesauce as part of our dinner. I informed Caleb that he had to clear off the table which is his daily chore. Being the lazy one, it took some time for him to get it done. In the meantime, Aidan had taken handfuls of applesauce and splashed them on the floor and both upstairs and downstairs walls. Now, by this time, you are probably wondering why I haven't done something about this little terror in my house. Well, I will tell you that I have already tried the gate. Well, I'll say a cheap gate because I'm cheap. The kid is a football player because whenever I put up the gate he tears it down taking paint along with it. I know that if I want to keep my sanity in tact I will probably have to invest in the stronger but astronomically expensive gates and buy two so that I can stack them on top of each other and kind of make an impenetrable door. Oh, I have my ideas. So, if anyone is wondering why I have this weird, crazy look on my face all the time or why I keep stuttering in a dull fashion you'll know why.

Thursday, September 27, 2007


I am a daydreamer. I always have been. When I was a girl, I daydreamed about my prince charming. Now, my daydreams are a little different.

I daydream:

1) about being 120 pounds again.

2) about what I would like to eat.

3) about going on a date with my husband, but not just any date. The kind of date that Richard Gere took Julia Roberts on in Pretty Woman. You know. The kind where she wears this glorious red gown and he wears a tux. He then takes her on a ride in a limo then a plane to see an opera.

4) about giving birth during different scenarios. For instance, what happens if the baby's head starts to come out while we are still in the car?

5) about having long, glorious hair down to my hips like those medieval women you see in the movies.

6) about Hilary Clinton and that muslim Obama guy being mysteriously assassinated.

7) about being kidnapped by Muslim terrorists and sent to live in Iraq while awaiting ransom. (I have no idea why I think about that one. I have an overactive imagination.)

8) about having a maid come in and clean my house on a frequent basis. Must be nice, Han. Not that I'm jealous or bitter or anything like that.

9) going back to high school and becoming Homecoming Queen. Oh, wait. I'm supposed to act like I don't care about that and would never go back.

10) visiting Great Britain. I would love to hear that British accent all around me and then come home driving everyone insane with jealousy saying things like, "Would you like a cup of tea?" in my brilliantly faked accent. I would "stumble" upon a glorious castle of a duke and after exchanging names everyone would discover that I am related to the duke. Therefore, I am entitled to his wonderful array of Arabian horses and acres of land to ride on. Not to mention the bedroom filled with antiques and 24-karat-gold bedspread.

As you can see, I have quite the imagination. What are some things that you daydream about?


Whenever I get pregnant, I space-out for nine months. I define the word "absent-mindedness". I'm always losing something I need or forgetting about something. Basically, I lose my mind. Just last week, I brought my boys to the grocery store to get a few things and walked right up to the exit door. I just stood there for two seconds wondering why the doors wouldn't open when the entrance doors next to us opened for someone else. This pregnancy hasn't been as bad, but I recall a time when my absent-mindedness cost me a huge amount of embarrassment. When I was pregnant with Justin, Nathanael was in pre-K and Caleb was barely 2. We had a little Kia Sephia at the time instead of our van with only two little ones sitting in the backseat. Three days a week, I took Nathanael to his adorable little class at a Christian school in town. I always liked to walk him to the door and get a kiss and hug before saying goodbye. I would then walk back to the car and to my other little one waiting for me. During one particular morning, I did all those things and came back to my idling car with Caleb in his carseat in the back. I lifted the door handle wouldn't open. I had locked the car with the car running and my baby was in it. I could feel my whole body heat up and panic coming on. I ran to the window on Caleb's side hoping the little thing would understand his mommy's sign language and unlock his door. He just looked at me like I was a mad woman and unlike his mommy didn't panic. A nice lady saw my predicament and called the fire department. That's right. The big tough guys with the shiny red truck that screams down the road ready to fight fire or jimmy open car doors for pregnant women. As the nice lady and I stared at Caleb through the window waiting for help, we heard a distant scream of the siren. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. They rounded the corner and were here to the rescue. They got the car unlocked while everyone came out of their houses to watch and I gratefully expressed my thanks with a red face and sheepish smile. As I pulled away from the curb finally to flee the scene of my embarrassment, I reminded myself it could have been worse. At least I didn't have to pay them. I know. I'm so cheap.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Toilet Instructions

In a house full of boys, the potty-training doesn't end. I'll be potty-training my boys until they are out of the house. I've gotten them to the point where they will use the toilet, but that's about it. I still have to remind them to wipe themselves, flush the toilet, and wash their hands. After the 101st reminder of those basic things, they still don't remember to turn the light off or shut the door while they do their business. Whenever I clean the two bathrooms that they use, I scour those places with heavy-duty cleaners and when I'm done they still smell like urine. One day, this past week I went into the downstairs bathroom. Being 90 weeks pregnant, I have to visit the bathroom hourly. With three boys using the same toilet, it certainly gets a lot of use during the day. As I stood up, I realized that there is another rule that needs some help. As the only female in the house, this rule had me irate as I stormed out of the bathroom into the kitchen. I looked at the boys and yelled, "Pee in the water! Do you understand?! Do NOT pee on the toilet!" I particularly looked at Justin as I said this because he is the one usually dancing around waiting until the last minute to go. He's probably the one doing most of the splashing although I would bet a million bucks his brothers help out with that. Later on that day, we were just sitting down to dinner when I noticed Justin wiggling in his seat as if he had ants in his pants. I ordered him to go to the bathroom. He does this dancing, wiggling, kind of run as he sprints to the bathroom with an anxious look on his face hoping to make it there before he pees in his pants. I watch him as he climbs onto the toilet and proceeds to pee in the sink. "Justin! What in the WORLD are you DOING?" Nat and Cabe began to laugh and said, "He's peeing in the water, Mom!" with absolute glee. As Justin comes back to the table, I said, "Justin, I meant pee in the water IN THE TOILET. Okay?" He said, "Oh. Sorry," with this confused, sheepish look on his face. As I'm scouring the bathroom sink, I realized I'm going to have to be more specific in the future.

100th Post!!

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Bed In Summer

When I was a kid, my parents made my siblings and I go to bed at 8pm. When kids have to wake up early to get ready for school, it's understandable to me now why they felt we had to be in bed at a decent hour. My brothers still complain about that to this day. They like to tell of how they would be told to go to bed and they would look outside. To them, it looked like the middle of the day it was so bright out. My brothers were probably in the middle of a death scene or something. They would trudge to bed with many whines and complaints. I'm sure my sister and I did as well. My brothers would plop into bed, prop their chins in their hands, and look out their bedroom window. They would watch forlornly at all the children across the street playing in their yards and wishing they could be with them. After having my own boys, I believe it is a boy's dream to live like Peter Pan. Hey, they want to BE him. No school, no clothes, no dining etiquette, no vegetables, no baths, no toothbrushes, and no scheduled bedtime would be the ideal life. Of course, they'd have to be able to fly and throw boulders to Timbuktu as well. I guess that's why my boys' favorite movie is Peter Pan. Go figure. Justin and I were having our regular reading time together when we came across this poem. This is for all those boys out there who would rather fight the bad guys with their trusty swords than go to bed with the sun still shining.

Bed In Summer

In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candlelight,
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people's feet
Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Tarantula Heaven

The batteries died on my camera before I could zoom in and get a better picture. You kind of get an idea of how big it was by looking at the big, black blob. This is the tarantula that was terrorizing our house before my husband bravely put it to death.

Monday, September 17, 2007


I love to watch my son play soccer with other kids his age. Some kids are so tall they look like giants compared to my pre-adolescent one, but I don't worry. I know he will catch up someday. This year the parents on the sidelines are particularly vocal. Throughout the game, I hear a lot of "go, go go!", "kick it!", "good job!", among some other riveting comments. Our team has the most parents yelling at the top of their lungs. The other teams' parents usually look over at one point with frustrated looks at all the noise. I usually just sit there and watch like the dignified person I like to think of myself as. All the kids on our team want a chance to kick the ball into oblivion, so the defenders usually don't protect the goalie leaving him stranded. During one point in last week's game, Nathanael was the goalie. His teammates were on the other end of the field all ready and willing to get their chance to win a goal for their team. Then comes this humongous kid who got the ball for the opposing team and went straight for our goal. The noise on the sidelines came to a frenzy. The boy kicked as hard as he could and the ball went straight for Nathanael. It hit him right in the forehead and ricocheted off the goal post into out-of-bounds. As my son grabs his forehead and runs for the ball, I hear, "All right!", "That was awesome!", "Did you see that?", "We'll be talking about that all week long!" He seemed alright and the game resumed. At break time, he was coming in for his water bottle and as the parents cheered him and clapped, he broke out into goofiness. He opened his mouth in a voiceless cheer, waved his hand, and was an all-around ham. He may have taken a hit, but he saved the goal. The kid was euphoric.

Thursday, September 13, 2007

The In-Law

I knew I would love them as soon as I met them. I just wondered what they would think of me. I was nervous the day my husband drove me up to the family cottage in Michigan to introduce me to his parents. I fiddled with my hair and primped in the mirror over and over again looking at myself and wondering how many glaring imperfections in me would they see during our time together. Would they wonder what in the world was he thinking? I have often wondered that myself, but I wasn't about to let him go. You don't find one like him. We pulled into the gravel driveway and when I got out of the car, I was immediately enveloped in hugs and greeted with smiles. From that very moment, I was their new daughter. I didn't have anything to worry about. After twelve years of marriage, that has not changed. During our July vacation, my mother-in-law informed me that she thinks of me and her other daughter-in-law as her daughters. Period. A few years ago, we both discovered we shared a love of Jane Austen not to mention Reformed theology. It is a wonderful gift from God to be able to share my beliefs with this wise woman. She is truly a Titus 2 woman and I learn a lot from her. My father-in-law is a quiet man. He has been wonderful to me. When my husband was in basic training for the Air Force, I went to live with them during his time in hell. My father-in-law plied me with gifts during that lonely time and when his father died a few years ago, each of his children got a personal check from the inheritance. That included me because he didn't think to leave me out just because I am brought into the family by marriage only. I have been surprised and humbled beyond words by these people's actions over the years. They have never even thought to interfere in our marriage or our decisions. That has been the biggest act of love and respect they could have given to us. Even when my mother-in-law probably wanted to scream at my husband for taking us away from her, she never let on. My love for them has only grown over the years and will continue to grow as my marriage grows. I'm not the in-law in the family. I'm a McIntyre, too. Thanks Mom and Dad.

Bible Plays

One night, we had a big thunderstorm and our electricity went out. There was no TV, no lights to be able to read, and no computer. We were bored off our rockers. We lit some candles and then Nathanael had an idea. He wanted to do some Bible plays. My husband and I offered to be the audience, so Nat put his brothers to work and they did the story of Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel. Nathanael was the narrator as well as a character or two and he astounded us with his knowledge of the two stories. He narrated almost as if he were reading from a script. We asked him where he got this information and he told us about this book, The Children's Illustrated Bible. It was collecting dust on the bookshelf when he discovered it and took it to his room. Over a short period of time, he read it from cover to cover. This was surprising to us because, well, the kid doesn't enjoy reading. When he reads, he does it to get it over with and therefore, doesn't remember much of what he read. He obviously enjoyed this book very much and learned a lot from it as well. This is exciting for me because my kid was reading and I didn't have to make him do it.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Short-Tempered Big Mouth

I'm not normally a mean person. I would rather die than show any mean-spiritedness to anyone. I hate confrontations and I am a people pleaser. I like to make friends and to be nice at all costs is very important to me. Things get a little tweeked when I'm pregnant. Hormones rage and emotions run high especially when I'm tired or hungry. Sundays seem to bring out that part of me. Our church is mostly full of old people. My husband and I look like total babes compared to the amount of life experience in the building. When we started attending almost a year ago, they took one look at our family and was willing to spoil our children rotten till I was ready to pull my hair out. I kept thinking, "I'M the mother!", but to no avail. Our children are just too much temptation for them and they bombard us with candy, cake, ice cream and stuffed animals galore. All our kids have to do is look up at them with their beautiful eyes and pink cheeks and they are wrapped around their little fingers. I often wonder if they pay attention to what our kids are doing during the service more than the sermon. Since my husband has become a deacon, he has been helping out and I have been the sole parent in the pew. That makes for a very tired and short-tempered mommy after the last hymn. After the service is over, our kids are treated to a feast of junk food or desserts that will give them diabetes before the year is out. My little imp, Aidan, had found a ball to play with and took it with him into the fellowship room. All he had to do was look up at an older lady and ask for a cup of water and she gave it to him. I was unaware of this when I come upon him spilling his drink on the floor. I took it for granted that my husband had given him the drink and said in an irate voice, "Who gave that to him?" Noticing my temper, my husband immediately tried to console the situation by saying, "It's okay, it's okay," all the while wiping up the mess. The lady asked if it was alright if he had a drink and I said sarcastically, "Well, not when there is a BALL in his arms!" She immediately apologized and said she couldn't help but give him what he wanted since he asked so sweetly. I wanted to die. I gulped and said, "Well, he does have that cherubic look to him, too." Me and my big mouth.

I Told You So

This past weekend our family went through more arachnophobia. In my last story about that, I mentioned my oldest son coming to me in the middle of the night telling me he had seen a big, black, hairy tarantula in his room. I didn't believe him and neither did his father. We thought it was his imagination or he had been dreaming or anything to make us able to sleep at night. We were sleeping totally unaware. My husband was spraying the outside of our house with spider repellent when all of a sudden the door bursts open and he yells, "Dee! Get out here, quick!" I thought, "What in the world has him freaking out like this?" and walked out the front door. He pointed to the corner where our house meets the garage and I looked up. There on the wall of my house was the biggest, blackest, hairiest tarantula I had ever seen in person. I just could not believe my eyes. I ran inside and told the boys to get outside to see this thing. Nat took one look and said, "I told you there was a tarantula in my room."

Thursday, September 6, 2007

The Lazy One

I have the laziest boy on the face of the earth. If you think yours is the laziest, I beg to differ. I love the kid. He makes me laugh and has a great imagination. I could just eat him up. The one thing that makes me worried about him is that he will turn out to be a bum. On the streets. Homeless. Whenever I ask Caleb to do something for me, out comes this high-pitched whine almost like a fire engine screaming down the street. It especially drives me crazy during school time. I ask him, "Would you act like this if Mrs. Cook told you to do this?" It does make him think about that and his answer would be no. I told him I deserve the same respect as his teacher and I can also whop him if he acts up. It doesn't seem to be working on his behavior, though. Another thing that he hates doing is taking a bath. We have threatened him with all sorts of disgusting things that could happen to him if he doesn't clean himself. I told him if he doesn't wash his hair I will call him lice boy and shave his head bald. That seems to have worked, but we will see. The other day, I noticed his teeth seemed peculiarly yellow for such a young boy. My eyes became slits and I used my "don't mess with me" voice to tell him I know he is not brushing his teeth and he better get to it or he will have a ton of cavities. I then proceeded to try to scare the daylights out of him by telling him will have to get a shot and fillings put in if he does have a cavity or more. He didn't look like he quite believed me. He probably has that invincible feeling that nothing bad could really happen to him or he could prevent it somehow. Because of his extreme laziness, my biggest rule with Caleb is that if he does it right the first time, he won't have to do it again. It will be interesting to see how this kid turns out, God love him.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

The Look

When my husband and I went out together for the first time, we went to a restaurant with some friends. We were sitting in a curved booth together and having a great time getting to know one another. I remember having a lot of fun. Years later, my husband informs me that he thought I was bored off my rocker at the time. I didn't understand because I remember that I was so happy just being with him. Soon after we were married, we were at Walt Disney World with his brother, his brother's wife, and their sister. I was having a fine time enjoying the rides. My sister-in-law asked my husband at one time if I was alright. She wasn't sure because I looked so serious. Occasionally, I will get a concerned friend asking me if I'm okay because they see that serious, bored look on my face when I'm perfectly happy and having a good time. I find it an odd characteristic and I know I have passed it on to one or more of my sons. When I was a kid, one of my favorite cartoons was Tom and Jerry. I still like to watch it even now. I introduced the cartoon to my boys a few years ago and have watched them enjoy it with much laughter. A couple days ago, we were watching Tom and Jerry together and I observed my boys watching the cartoon. All of them had a look of delight on their faces. All except one. Aidan looked bored silly and very serious. Not one laugh or look of delight. Yet I knew he was engrossed and very interested. Someday, this poor kid will be out with a young woman and as females always do wonder what he is thinking. She will see that bored, serious look on his face and think all sorts of things that may not be true. If she's smart, she will bide her time and eventually realize that it has nothing to do with her. Unless, it really does. Then she's screwed.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

The Letter

I told my husband that a good vacation for us someday would be to go to Yellowstone National Park. The boys were wondering about it, so I told them what it was like there- geysers, an active volcano, animals of all kinds, Old Faithful, etc. I could see the wheels turning in their heads just thinking about it.

I found this little note last night from Caleb addressed to his dad. I will type it exactly how he wrote it.

Hey dad, whats up.
I was thinking that mabey we can go to the yellowstone naichanal park so we can see volcanos.
I love you so much dad.

I swore up and down to his father that I didn't put him up to this. This one's definitely a keeper.