Sledding

We went sledding today. It's the day before Christmas Eve, Sam's 4th birthday is tomorrow and filled with all the typical Christmas Eve broohaha so we thought it would be fun to do something as a family to celebrate Sam.
The announcement was made "We're going sledding! Put on all your snow gear and get in the car!" The whoops were heard 'round the neighborhood and the mad dash began.

One hour, 7 fights and a bloody nose later, we were finally putting sleds in the car.

"Where's Sam?"
"He's getting his socks on"
"Sam! Hurry up! Everyone is in the car, let's go!"
"I don wanna go"
"What?"
"I don yike sedding"
"Too late, everyone is already in the car, so let's go"
"I DON WANT TO GOOOOOO!"
It is now that the frustration hits, so I squat down to the level of my son whose birthday we are going to celebrate and state "You WILL get your socks on, you WILL get in the car and you WILL have fun. Is that CLEAR?"
The sobs that follow indicate that it is, indeed, clear.

We get to the sled hill and everyone piles out of the car. We have 2 sleds and 6 sledders. The mathematical equivalent of much arguing and crying at the top of the hill as to who gets to go first. Sam has unhappily disengaged from his car seat and his sitting in a lump on a bench with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "I cold. I don yike being cold" Well, I guess only 5 sledders.
Josh and Will win the toss and get to sled down the hill first. Ben decides to just go down on his belly in order to save face and lights off. Brett and I stand at the top of the hill and watch our little boys having the time of their lives. Well, 3 of the 4, but at least Sam is quiet in his misery, so we're content. It was worth it all the turmoil getting out of the house.

"Moooom! I pooped my pants!"

I stand there next to my man and look for the mom with the fallen face and defeated shoulders whose sledding adventures just ended.
"MOM!"
I look down and see Ben at the bottom of the hill staring up at me.
"Yes dear??"
"I SAID, I pooped my pants"
I look over at Brett hoping that he understood what our 6 year old son was saying, because the cold was messing with my hearing.
"What did he say?"
Brett just silently stares down at Ben with a fallen face and defeated shoulders.
"MOOOM!"
I'm confused. My brain seems unable to wrap around what it happening so I continue to look between Brett and Ben in an attempt to decipher the situation.
Frustrated by the lack of response, Ben now sets off in a huff up the hill in a wide legged stomp.
The heavy sigh next to me triggers a dawning reality.
"Ben, sweetheart, did YOU poop your pants?"
"Yes! That's what I SAID!"
He is now halfway up the hill and looking increasingly uncomfortable.
"What do you mean you pooped your pants??"
It's now Ben's turn to look at me with a blank stare.
"Well, I mean what KIND of poop are we talking about? Do you have an actual terd in your pants?" I look over at Brett and realize by the look on his face, that Ben and I are having our conversation while shouting up and down a sledding hill filled with children, parents, grandparents, friends, co-workers, you name it. As I look around, the look on all of their faces plainly reveal that they are all in on the conversation and, while snickering, thanking God that it's not them.
Ben finishes his awkward trek up the hill and stands tall in front of me oblivious to the fact that the entire sled hill knows what has happened.
Slightly out of breath he states "No, not a terd, more like a wet fart."
"A wet fart or diarrhea?"
His brow furrows as he takes an internal inventory. Hmmm, interesting question you provide, parental unit, I will take a moment to assertain the severity of soiling and get back to you.
I'm standing there bewildered, not so much by the fact that my 6 year old soiled himself on the sledding hill, but more so by the fact that he seems completely undaunted by this. He is standing in front of me looking as though he's deciding between a juice box or chocolate milk.
A short moment later he states "I'm not sure".
Brett looks at me and says "Do you have something for this in the car?"
Are you kidding me?? Yes, of course dear. My youngest child has been potty trained for 2 years, but I regularly carry baby wipes, extra underwear and sledding gear for instances just like THIS!
"No" is what I manage.
Brett comes alive and yells down the hill to Josh and Will "We're leaving! Grab your sled and get in the car!"
"WHAT??!! We only went down ONCE!"
They're right. We got out of the car exactly 7 minutes ago. Three minutes later, we're piling back in the car with everyone grumbling and crying.
Everyone except Sam that is. He's thrilled. He's got a smile on his face and music in his voice "Yeah! We get to go home!"
"Happy Birthday Sam"
"Tanks Mom"

Quotes from this past year

It's been well over a year since I've been on here, and truth be told, it may be another year until I post again.
"What's so hard about posting?" you ask? Well, it's been a very busy year, we moved, Ben started homeschooling, Brett got a promotion, I started decorating....
Ok, ok, I can't do it. It's Facebook! I joined Facebook and all other priorities (i.e. my blog and showering) have been thrown to the wayside. I'm sorry. Mea Culpa!

Here are some of my status updates from Facebook from the past year:

7 year old Will pointing at 3 crosses on the side of the road: "Look mom! It's the cross where Jesus was crucified!" 9 year old Josh: "Will, Jesus was crucified in Israel....(thoughtfully)...or was it Miami?"

‎7 year old William: "Mom! There's a deluge of mosquitos outside!"
Me: " 'Deluge'?? Wow Will, you sound very intelligent."
Will: "What's 'intelligent'?"

Last night at dinner, Will leans over and says "Mommy, you are so pretty you should be on a Christmas card". I stared at him for a minute, quietly went to the kitchen and got his birthday cake. I took his fork and stuck it in the middle of the cake, placed it in front of him and said "I have nothing left to teach you. Have at it kid."


Yesterday at lunch, Sam (3) picks up his string cheese, brings it up in front of his face and starts to stare it down. He sighs heavily and states "Yets do this" and takes a bite. After a minute or so he exclaims "Hmm..tastes yike chicken!" I'm staring at this kid utterly confused when Josh comes over and says "He's been watching Survivorman".

Sam's outfit for church last Sunday: Favorite shirt pulled from the bottom of the dirty laundry pile, swimming trunks, 1 tennis shoe/no sock, 1 crock/wrong foot. This was discovered, along with maple syrup all over his face and hands, a mile from church. I believe my last words to Brett were "Make sure they're all presentable".

Will: "Mom, why do people have to pay for speeding tickets when the police give them out for free?"

"I like dirt. It tastes just like sausage." Sam, age 3

Having a "Sixteen Candles" sort of day. If anyone out there cares at all about Brett, you might want to give him a call and let him know he FORGOT HIS WIFE'S BIRTHDAY!!!
(Update later that day): We were rushed getting ready for church this morning so I was flustered when I got in the car. Brett told me to do my 'combat breathing' : Slowly inhale for 4sec, hold for 4sec, release for 4sec. It's supposed to calm you in "under fire" situations. Later at chruch, one of the boys finally realized it was my birthday and told Brett. When I looked over at him, he had this "I'm dead" look on his face and I said "Start your Combat Breathing dear."

Please explain to me what possesses boys to fill their waterguns with urine??

Just got back from meeting Brett in town for lunch. As we were leaving, he got a call and had to run to his car, jump in and speed off. The boys all stared in total wonderment. Then Will whispers "I've never seen a real police car with my REAL dad (as opposed to his many stepdads????) speed away to help someone". Then as if on cue, all four boys stared jumping around an howling like wolves!