Oh help.
Murray: (sigh) I wish I had a girlfriend.
Me: Oh really? What would you do with a girlfriend?
Murray: Play with her.
Me: (another sigh, this time, of relief) That's nice. Why do you want a girlfriend?
Murray: Well, Mom, she showed me her butt.
Me: (trying to stay calm) Really? Where? When?
Murray: I can't tell you where, but it was a few days ago.
Me: What did you do?
Murray: Well, I hid by a tree.
Me: Good choice, Murray. We shouldn't show our private parts, right?
Murray: Right, but we can to our moms and dads, but not to our friends.
Me: Yep, that's right!
Murray: But, can we talk about a penis, a vagina, and a pink eye?
Oh help.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Blind Faith
The following conversation took place while tucking Murray in last night.
Murray: Mama, are there houses in heaven?
Me: Yes, Murray, God has a place for all of His children, because He loves us all SO much.
Murray: Grandma Kathy tickled my feet.
Me: She did? When?
Murray: When I was sleeping one day. I giggled.
Murray: I just wanted to know if there were blankets in heaven.
Me: Yep, there sure is! God has lots of fluffy blankets just for you!
Murray: Will He have my white blanket?
Murray: Mama, are there animals in heaven?
Me: You bet, Mur! There are lots and lots of animals.
Murray: How come?
Me: Because God loves animals and people, just the same. In God's eyes, we're all perfect.
He created everything on earth with lots and lots of love.
Murray: What happens when you get to heaven? Are there games? Are there toys? What about
houses? Will our house be there? Can we play in heaven? Do people still love us in
heaven?
Me: Yes, Murray. Heaven is a much better place that anything here on Earth. And, God has a
Huge Kingdom for all of us to live together. Isn't that great?
Murray: What about songs? Are there songs in heaven?
Me: Yes, in heaven, everyone sings with joy, because they love God and heaven so much.
I relied on my Catholic upbringing and blind faith to get through this conversation. More devout Catholics than I may have chosen to answer his questions differently, and honestly, my Catholicism is a work in progress.
I love that he's curious. I just wish I had the perfect answers. Like I said, I'm a work in progress.
Good thing he's going to St. Joseph's in the fall. I might have to join him.
Murray: Mama, are there houses in heaven?
Me: Yes, Murray, God has a place for all of His children, because He loves us all SO much.
Murray: Grandma Kathy tickled my feet.
Me: She did? When?
Murray: When I was sleeping one day. I giggled.
Murray: I just wanted to know if there were blankets in heaven.
Me: Yep, there sure is! God has lots of fluffy blankets just for you!
Murray: Will He have my white blanket?
Murray: Mama, are there animals in heaven?
Me: You bet, Mur! There are lots and lots of animals.
Murray: How come?
Me: Because God loves animals and people, just the same. In God's eyes, we're all perfect.
He created everything on earth with lots and lots of love.
Murray: What happens when you get to heaven? Are there games? Are there toys? What about
houses? Will our house be there? Can we play in heaven? Do people still love us in
heaven?
Me: Yes, Murray. Heaven is a much better place that anything here on Earth. And, God has a
Huge Kingdom for all of us to live together. Isn't that great?
Murray: What about songs? Are there songs in heaven?
Me: Yes, in heaven, everyone sings with joy, because they love God and heaven so much.
I relied on my Catholic upbringing and blind faith to get through this conversation. More devout Catholics than I may have chosen to answer his questions differently, and honestly, my Catholicism is a work in progress.
I love that he's curious. I just wish I had the perfect answers. Like I said, I'm a work in progress.
Good thing he's going to St. Joseph's in the fall. I might have to join him.
Questions, Questions, Questions
I often find myself completely dumbfounded at the questions Murray asks. Here are some of the latest. Note that sometimes I pull answers out of my ear.
Q: How do brakes stop the wheeuhs?
A: There's a machine in the engine so when you press the brake pedal, the machine stops the wheels.
Q: How does the frost get on the trees and the windows?
A: It gets cold out, and then...well, Jack Frost visits.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's winter.
Q: How come you yike to do sewing?
A: Because I like it.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's relaxing.
Q: What's rewaxing?
A: When you rest.
Q: Why does Rudy have a taiuh?
A: Because God gave him a tail.
Q: How are some kids bigger than me?
A: Because they were born before you.
Q: How?
A: Because God said so.
Q: How yong is it to the cities?
A: Four hours.
Q: How yong is that?
A: Ummm...a long time.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's far away.
Q: How does the vaccuum cweaner suck up stuff?
A: Well, there's a mechanism that - never mind. Go ask your Dad.
Feel free to leave some suggestions for answers in the comment section. I could use some help here.
Q: How do brakes stop the wheeuhs?
A: There's a machine in the engine so when you press the brake pedal, the machine stops the wheels.
Q: How does the frost get on the trees and the windows?
A: It gets cold out, and then...well, Jack Frost visits.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's winter.
Q: How come you yike to do sewing?
A: Because I like it.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's relaxing.
Q: What's rewaxing?
A: When you rest.
Q: Why does Rudy have a taiuh?
A: Because God gave him a tail.
Q: How are some kids bigger than me?
A: Because they were born before you.
Q: How?
A: Because God said so.
Q: How yong is it to the cities?
A: Four hours.
Q: How yong is that?
A: Ummm...a long time.
Q: Why?
A: Because it's far away.
Q: How does the vaccuum cweaner suck up stuff?
A: Well, there's a mechanism that - never mind. Go ask your Dad.
Feel free to leave some suggestions for answers in the comment section. I could use some help here.
Four Is Not Fun At Four A.M.
NOTE: Edited for the hog/hug mistake. I'm sure there are more typos, but please, overlook them. I'm certainly not a winner at writing. I just love it.
Most of the time, I'm the parent with the most patience. Having patience also makes me the parent most likely to give in. We try to raise him with a firm hand, and I feel like we're doing a pretty good job.
Sometimes.
It's time for Mama to take back control.
Most of the time, I'm the parent with the most patience. Having patience also makes me the parent most likely to give in. We try to raise him with a firm hand, and I feel like we're doing a pretty good job.
Sometimes.
No one told me that child rearing a four year old would prove more challenging than a fussy newborn, or a curious toddler, or an inquisitive three year old. The minute Murray turned four is the minute he turned naughty. Exasperatingly naughty. Whiny, demanding, bossy, demanding, whiny...I think you get the picture. Oh., and this 'silly' phase is for the birds. C'mon Mur, you're cute enough the way it is, no need to put on your goofy hat.
I've spent a lot of time on the phone with G.K. for parenting advice.
Sometimes, I find it easier to give in to just "one more snack" instead of listening to wails of "but, I'm SO hungry, Mom!" Then there are the crocodile tears that he seems to be able to turn on at the drop of a hat. The kid could win an Oscar. I think he's the next Dakota Fanning. Hmmm....maybe I should look into that?
This morning, at 4:00 a.m., I woke to said child yelling from his room. "Mom, Dad! I'm awake! Can I sleep in your room?" Craig replies that yes, he may, but on his crib mattress on the floor and not in our bed.
Murray skips across the hall (who skips at 4:00 a.m.?) blanket in hand and lies down. Thirty seconds later: "Mom, I'm cowwed (cold)!" We groggily explained that if he wants to sleep in our room, he would have to bring in his pillows and more bedding by himself. BIG sigh from Murray. He stomps - so much for the skipping - to his room after a litany of complaints and returns with a flimsy blanket.
"Mom, I need my wittwah (little) bear and a hithow (pillow)." Again, he needs to get those himself, I explain. "WAAAA!!! BUT I WANT YOU TO GET IT!"
This is where I give in. FINE. Now I'm acting like the four year old; stomping into his room to retrieve the darn bear and a pillow. I finally get back into bed and I hear a whine, "Mom, you forgot my Pooh, and my dowphin, and my car, and my bobber, and moose."
You've GOT to be kidding me, I'm thinking. I haul myself out of my nice warm bed, and off I go again. I grabbed pretty much everything in his entire room and dumped it on the floor next to him. I snuggle him back in, then myself, and think, finally, some sleep.
"Mom, he whispers. Can I have a drink of wadder?" So, I grab my water mug, hand it to him, he drinks, and I hiss, "I don't want to hear another word from you until morning." Craig rolls over, looks at me and says, "Marie, that was kind of mean."
So, I burst into tears, apologize to Murray profusely, give him a big hug, and try to explain that Mama is just really tired and we all need some sleep.
I felt terrible. And guilty. And terrible. Soon, all three males in the house are snoring, while I was wide awake. I sighed, grabbed my book and settled on the couch for a good read.
At seven, when the house began to stir, Murray buried his head under the covers, asked me to turn the light off, and demanded the he sleep longer. Go figure.
It's time for Mama to take back control.
Driving Mr. Murray
Riding in the car with Murray is always an adventure in conversation. You just never know what will pop out of his mouth. For example, today's 7-minute trip went something like this:
"Mom, you picked me up early? Why? Mom, why is it cloudy? It's not too windy for me. Hey Mom! I sure love Rudy. Mom, who's in that car next to us? Mom, I made a snowman puppet today. Mom, the cops are nice, right? Mom? I know how many more sleeps until we go to the cities with dad. Mommy, why didn't I get a snack at Linsay's house today? Mom, are you driving the speed limit? Mom, Gordon is the fastest engine on Sodor! Mom, I didn't tell the secret to anyone! Oh, Mom? Will you help me set up my sticky trains when we get home?" Mom, why do you love me? Mom, what are we having for dinner? Mom, guess what? Well...I forgot. Mom, how did I eat all the pudding? I know, let's have homemade mac & cheese for supper! Okay, Mom? Will you make me that please? Mom, I didn't share my Hero because my other friends have their own trains."
Who needs talk radio when you have a Murray?
Four Years Old
Note: I purposely did not show the faces of Murray's party guests, so as not to exploit children who aren't my own. :)
Also, following is the addendum to this post. I apologize for the delay.
When you were three, you loved to snuggle up with me and whisper secrets in my ear.
Not that you're four, you think it's great fun to give wet willies instead of whispering how much you love me.
When you were three, you loved to take a bath.
Now that you're four, you think baths are for babies and you prefer showers.
When you were three, Curious George made you laugh.
Now that you're four, you think tooting and smelly feet are hysterical. When you pass gass, you say, "Excuse me, a duck flew by." At least you say excuse me.
When you were three, we could answer your questions (kind of).
Now that you're four, you have us scratching our heads, searching for an answer that will suit you.
When you were three, you learned to count.
Now that you're four, you can do simple math. Yesterday you did 4-2=2 all by yourself. You are just like your Dad; you certainly didn't get the mathematical/analytical gene from me.
When you were three, you slept in your own room.
Not that you're four, you insist on sleeping on the floor in our room. You are so not sleeping in our bed. Unless you're sick.
When you were three, you weren't quite as independent.
Now that you're four, you play on your own more than you play with your Dad and me.
When you were three, your manners were impeccable.
Now that you're four, your're bossy and need to be reminded of good manners.
But, now that you're four, your Dad and I still think you are awesome. We love you, and always will.
But since your're four now, could you please remember to flush the toilet?
Happy 4th Birthday, Murray!
Also, following is the addendum to this post. I apologize for the delay.
When you were three, you loved to snuggle up with me and whisper secrets in my ear.
Not that you're four, you think it's great fun to give wet willies instead of whispering how much you love me.
When you were three, you loved to take a bath.
Now that you're four, you think baths are for babies and you prefer showers.
When you were three, Curious George made you laugh.
Now that you're four, you think tooting and smelly feet are hysterical. When you pass gass, you say, "Excuse me, a duck flew by." At least you say excuse me.
When you were three, we could answer your questions (kind of).
Now that you're four, you have us scratching our heads, searching for an answer that will suit you.
When you were three, you learned to count.
Now that you're four, you can do simple math. Yesterday you did 4-2=2 all by yourself. You are just like your Dad; you certainly didn't get the mathematical/analytical gene from me.
When you were three, you slept in your own room.
Not that you're four, you insist on sleeping on the floor in our room. You are so not sleeping in our bed. Unless you're sick.
When you were three, you weren't quite as independent.
Now that you're four, you play on your own more than you play with your Dad and me.
When you were three, your manners were impeccable.
Now that you're four, your're bossy and need to be reminded of good manners.
But, now that you're four, your Dad and I still think you are awesome. We love you, and always will.
But since your're four now, could you please remember to flush the toilet?
Happy 4th Birthday, Murray!
Pony rides - introducing Izzy and Sari (Izzy is the pony)
Cake
Battery Operated cars
Photo credit: Troy (a.k.a. J.P. #2)
Special thanks to our friends and family who spent the afternoon with us. Also, thanks to Dakota Carriage Company for bringing sweet Izzy to our home.
Real World Parenting
Note: The following clip contains foul language.
I don't use swear words very often, except for the occasional "dammit". If the chardonnay is flowing, well, that's a different story. But sometimes, there are moments in life when saying a bad word just makes you feel better.
My girlfriend sent the following to me. DH and I laughed uncontrollably. In fact, we're still giggling.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dU5Mi0QQPMc&feature=share&fb_source=message
Do you ever feel like this?
I don't use swear words very often, except for the occasional "dammit". If the chardonnay is flowing, well, that's a different story. But sometimes, there are moments in life when saying a bad word just makes you feel better.
My girlfriend sent the following to me. DH and I laughed uncontrollably. In fact, we're still giggling.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dU5Mi0QQPMc&feature=share&fb_source=message
Do you ever feel like this?
I Wasn't Ready For This
Note: I had to keep editing this post due to Murray's antics.
I wasn't ready for the "TALK."
It finally happened. The day I was dreading.
Thank goodness I remembered the "birds and bees" discussion that my Mom had with me when I was four.
I was excited to tell Murray that my Dad's Gordon Setter, Madelyn, had her puppies tonight. This news brought on a slew of questions from little guy.
"How do the puppies get in Maddie's tummy?"
"How do they get out of her tummy?"
"But, MOM, how did they get in there?"
"How did I get in you to be born?"
Oh good grief. I thought I could explain that God works miracles, and that Murray would accept this as a perfect answer.
Not so much.
So I launched into an explanation about how there are seeds and eggs, and they meet each other, and then a baby grows.
Wouldn't you think that this explanation would be satisfying to an almost-four year old? I thought that it would.
It wasn't. Not at all.
Insert DH snorting here, trying not to laugh. We're trying to be serious because body parts are normal.
Murray said, "But how do the seeds and the eggs meet? Okay, now I'm trying to hide my own laughter.
So DH says, "Well, it's like a puzzle."
Huh? Again, good grief.
"Well, I said, when a Mom and a Dad love each other and are husband and wife, they share the eggs and the seeds to make a baby, and it grows in the Mom's tummy."
"But how does it get out?"
HELP HERE!!!!!! (Now DH is really snorting and laughing hysterically and I'm completely baffled).
"Well, it comes out of the Mom's vagina and the doctor helps."
"But, MOM, that's NOT what I was talking about. I mean, HOW DOES THE SEED GET TO THE EGGS?" (Insert Craig giggling again and me throwing my hands in the air).
"Because God said so."
It's Craig's turn next.
I wasn't ready for the "TALK."
It finally happened. The day I was dreading.
Thank goodness I remembered the "birds and bees" discussion that my Mom had with me when I was four.
I was excited to tell Murray that my Dad's Gordon Setter, Madelyn, had her puppies tonight. This news brought on a slew of questions from little guy.
"How do the puppies get in Maddie's tummy?"
"How do they get out of her tummy?"
"But, MOM, how did they get in there?"
"How did I get in you to be born?"
Oh good grief. I thought I could explain that God works miracles, and that Murray would accept this as a perfect answer.
Not so much.
So I launched into an explanation about how there are seeds and eggs, and they meet each other, and then a baby grows.
Wouldn't you think that this explanation would be satisfying to an almost-four year old? I thought that it would.
It wasn't. Not at all.
Insert DH snorting here, trying not to laugh. We're trying to be serious because body parts are normal.
Murray said, "But how do the seeds and the eggs meet? Okay, now I'm trying to hide my own laughter.
So DH says, "Well, it's like a puzzle."
Huh? Again, good grief.
"Well, I said, when a Mom and a Dad love each other and are husband and wife, they share the eggs and the seeds to make a baby, and it grows in the Mom's tummy."
"But how does it get out?"
HELP HERE!!!!!! (Now DH is really snorting and laughing hysterically and I'm completely baffled).
"Well, it comes out of the Mom's vagina and the doctor helps."
"But, MOM, that's NOT what I was talking about. I mean, HOW DOES THE SEED GET TO THE EGGS?" (Insert Craig giggling again and me throwing my hands in the air).
"Because God said so."
It's Craig's turn next.
Date Day with Murray
Murray and I had the best day today. We had a "date day"; we spent the entire day together. In no particular order:
1. We slept in.
2. We watched Curious George and ate breakfast sandwiches.
3. We had a photo session at the park with Jennifer. Lots of giggling.
4. We stocked up on art supplies.
5. We shared hot chocolate.
6. We worked on many "masterpieces".
7. We took a nap together.
8. We played several games of Memory and Candy Land.
9. We set up his castle and ate homemade macaroni and cheese while we giggled some more.
10. We spent time with Aunt Maggie.
11. We sang songs and danced and read books.
Whew! I'm exhausted. Today was one of those days that you just know you'll never forget.
Our house is covered in finger paint and glitter glue, the dishes didn't get washed, and the laundry was ignored. But you know, I just don't care. When Murray woke up from his nap, snuggled in tight with me and said, "Mama, thanks SO much for staying with me today, I love you.", I realized that a dirty house is a happy home.
One more thing to remember: When you're drinking cranberry juice and letting your child paint at the same time, be sure to keep the water glass separate from your juice. If you don't, you might accidentally drink the paint water instead of your juice and throw up. Not that this has ever happened to me; I was just thinking about how gross that would be.
-MM
1. We slept in.
2. We watched Curious George and ate breakfast sandwiches.
3. We had a photo session at the park with Jennifer. Lots of giggling.
4. We stocked up on art supplies.
5. We shared hot chocolate.
6. We worked on many "masterpieces".
7. We took a nap together.
8. We played several games of Memory and Candy Land.
9. We set up his castle and ate homemade macaroni and cheese while we giggled some more.
10. We spent time with Aunt Maggie.
11. We sang songs and danced and read books.
Whew! I'm exhausted. Today was one of those days that you just know you'll never forget.
Our house is covered in finger paint and glitter glue, the dishes didn't get washed, and the laundry was ignored. But you know, I just don't care. When Murray woke up from his nap, snuggled in tight with me and said, "Mama, thanks SO much for staying with me today, I love you.", I realized that a dirty house is a happy home.
One more thing to remember: When you're drinking cranberry juice and letting your child paint at the same time, be sure to keep the water glass separate from your juice. If you don't, you might accidentally drink the paint water instead of your juice and throw up. Not that this has ever happened to me; I was just thinking about how gross that would be.
-MM
Little Boys and Bugs
Our family moved to a new town when I was a sophomore in high school. It was the middle of August, and our home hadn't been lived in for several months. The house was quite clean, but we did have one problem; crickets. They were everywhere. It was so bad that I slept on the kitchen counter that first night.
I'm not a fan of spiders and bugs, but I can usually handle the removal of them. If I see a cricket, though, I run for cover and stand on the nearest chair
I know my fear of crickets is silly. They don't bite and they can't hurt you. Even so, they drive me crazy. Crickets are awful; they make horrible noises, invade your home, and well, I won't elaborate on what happens when you step on them. I'd ride on an angry bull before I would welcome a cricket into our home. That's saying something for a woman who's scared to drive on the interstate.
So, today, when I picked Murray up from daycare, he and his pals were very excited about the grasshoppers that they had caught - I can do grasshoppers (I know, no rationality here) so I went to have a look.
Grasshoppers would have been acceptable, only they weren't grasshoppers, they were crickets.
Yes, they were CRICKETS. Our nephew was squeezing them, and Murray had one hopping all over his hand. It took a lot of courage to be brave and say, "Wow, those are really neat!" especially without swearing like a sailor.
I have the willies just thinking about it.
-MM
I'm not a fan of spiders and bugs, but I can usually handle the removal of them. If I see a cricket, though, I run for cover and stand on the nearest chair
I know my fear of crickets is silly. They don't bite and they can't hurt you. Even so, they drive me crazy. Crickets are awful; they make horrible noises, invade your home, and well, I won't elaborate on what happens when you step on them. I'd ride on an angry bull before I would welcome a cricket into our home. That's saying something for a woman who's scared to drive on the interstate.
So, today, when I picked Murray up from daycare, he and his pals were very excited about the grasshoppers that they had caught - I can do grasshoppers (I know, no rationality here) so I went to have a look.
Grasshoppers would have been acceptable, only they weren't grasshoppers, they were crickets.
Yes, they were CRICKETS. Our nephew was squeezing them, and Murray had one hopping all over his hand. It took a lot of courage to be brave and say, "Wow, those are really neat!" especially without swearing like a sailor.
I have the willies just thinking about it.
-MM
Child Care Providers are Angels
Daycare is closed this week. After all, child care providers deserve a vacation. Actually, especially child care providers deserve a vacation. After the morning I've had, I don't know how ours does it.
Our three year old nephew, Owen, and Murray both go to the same daycare. Their birthdays are five days apart and they're best friends (most of the time). Since I don't have class on Thursdays, it only made sense that I watch both boys. Two are easier than one - they entertain each other. Or so I thought.
So far today, we've eaten eggs and pancakes, gone on a long bike ride, painted masterpieces, played with colored bubbles (I don't recommend this), spent time in the sandbox, set up the castle complete with balls, had a snack, sung the clean up song five times, and each boy has had a bout of tears - oh wait, Murray just started up again (Owen was trying to get out of the castle and accidentally kicked him in the face). I've told them to share at least 52 times and constructed train tracks that rival Burlington Northern.
It's only 10:30, and already both boys are already battered. Owen has a bruise on his cheek because Murray whacked him with a hockey stick. Murray has a goose egg on his head because he tripped in the bathroom and somehow bonked his head on the step stool. I've called our pediatrician twice and I'm living in fear that I'll have to call again - or worse, call the ambulance.
At least they haven't peed in public like they did on Monday when my father-in-law had them.
Is it too early to put them down for a nap and pour a glass of chardonnay?
Hats off to child care providers everywhere. You are angels waiting for wings.
-MM
Our three year old nephew, Owen, and Murray both go to the same daycare. Their birthdays are five days apart and they're best friends (most of the time). Since I don't have class on Thursdays, it only made sense that I watch both boys. Two are easier than one - they entertain each other. Or so I thought.
So far today, we've eaten eggs and pancakes, gone on a long bike ride, painted masterpieces, played with colored bubbles (I don't recommend this), spent time in the sandbox, set up the castle complete with balls, had a snack, sung the clean up song five times, and each boy has had a bout of tears - oh wait, Murray just started up again (Owen was trying to get out of the castle and accidentally kicked him in the face). I've told them to share at least 52 times and constructed train tracks that rival Burlington Northern.
It's only 10:30, and already both boys are already battered. Owen has a bruise on his cheek because Murray whacked him with a hockey stick. Murray has a goose egg on his head because he tripped in the bathroom and somehow bonked his head on the step stool. I've called our pediatrician twice and I'm living in fear that I'll have to call again - or worse, call the ambulance.
At least they haven't peed in public like they did on Monday when my father-in-law had them.
Is it too early to put them down for a nap and pour a glass of chardonnay?
Hats off to child care providers everywhere. You are angels waiting for wings.
-MM
Daddy's Hands
I love it when my Dad visits, which he did last weekend. He's a big kid at heart but also an awesome father to my sister and I and grandfather to Murray.
Murray thinks the world of him - we all do, but in Murray's eyes he is nothing short of a hero. The feeling is mutual. Grandpa Doug took part in water fights (the rest of us watched), pretended to be a jungle gym, took Murray on long walks, played endless games of hide and seek, and woke up every morning to cuddle and watch PBS. The two of them read books and sang songs and played Memory. He set up a tent and told the ghost story of the "Blue Bear" and practiced casting with a new fishing pole.
The special relationship that the two of them share brings a flood of my own memories. My Dad and my sister and I have always enjoyed a special bond, (although we were equally close to our Mom. We have great parents.) Dad held my hand when I was in pain, counseled me through fights with my friends, scolded me when I was late for curfew, cried when I went to prom, took me hunting and fishing, and put together my bunk beds when I moved into the dorm. He was there when my Mom was sick and died, helped me through countless heartbreaks, walked me down the aisle, and welcomed Craig to our family. When Murray was born, he was so excited he could hardly speak.
The best thing? He still does all of those things for his adult children. When I'm sad, he lets me cry. When I'm mad, he lets me rage. He believes in me and gives me (too much) credit. He gently lets me know if I'm wrong. He adores my sister and I, and wants to help us when we're in need. He has the hands of a worker and the heart of a child; never questioning, always loving.
No family is perfect and ours certainly isn't. We all have our ups and downs and battles to face. But at least we have each other. Thanks, Dad.
-MM
Murray thinks the world of him - we all do, but in Murray's eyes he is nothing short of a hero. The feeling is mutual. Grandpa Doug took part in water fights (the rest of us watched), pretended to be a jungle gym, took Murray on long walks, played endless games of hide and seek, and woke up every morning to cuddle and watch PBS. The two of them read books and sang songs and played Memory. He set up a tent and told the ghost story of the "Blue Bear" and practiced casting with a new fishing pole.
The special relationship that the two of them share brings a flood of my own memories. My Dad and my sister and I have always enjoyed a special bond, (although we were equally close to our Mom. We have great parents.) Dad held my hand when I was in pain, counseled me through fights with my friends, scolded me when I was late for curfew, cried when I went to prom, took me hunting and fishing, and put together my bunk beds when I moved into the dorm. He was there when my Mom was sick and died, helped me through countless heartbreaks, walked me down the aisle, and welcomed Craig to our family. When Murray was born, he was so excited he could hardly speak.
The best thing? He still does all of those things for his adult children. When I'm sad, he lets me cry. When I'm mad, he lets me rage. He believes in me and gives me (too much) credit. He gently lets me know if I'm wrong. He adores my sister and I, and wants to help us when we're in need. He has the hands of a worker and the heart of a child; never questioning, always loving.
No family is perfect and ours certainly isn't. We all have our ups and downs and battles to face. But at least we have each other. Thanks, Dad.
-MM
For Posterity: Conversations With Murray
Since my camera refuses to sync with my computer and I'm feeling the need to record some things again, I'm posting more Murrayisms. Here we go:
Murray: Where did we get that? (referring to a dresser)
Me: From Grandma Kathy (clearly I meant our storage unit that houses her things)
Murray: Did she drop it?
Murray: Mama, you're SO BEAUTIFUL (I'm not making this up and I may have already blogged about this but it's my favorite)
Murray: Mom, could I have my own? (while sharing popcorn)
Me: Yes, I'll get you a bowl.
Murray: No, I mean stop eating it, please. (so much for sharing)
Murray: Please show me what time it is. (while looking at a clock)
Me: Well, this is the big hand and that means hours, and this is the little hand and that means minutes, and each number stand for five minutes, and then you count by fives so the number one means it's five after the hour and the number two means it's ten after the hour... (insert Charlie Brown's teacher)
Murray: Great, Mom, but what time are we going to Grandma Mary's house?
Craig: Murray, have a good day.
Murray: Dad, have fun at work and have a GREAT DAY. (agreed)
Murray: Dad, when are we going out west? (to see Grandpa Doug)
Craig: Not sure, but probably in a few weeks.
Murray: How many sleeps is that?
Murray: Mom, they won't let you work anymore because they can't give you money? (right on, son)
Murray: I love my Rudy and Nala and Grandma Mary and Grandpa Dennis and Grandpa Doug and Grandma Kathy in heaven and Maggie and Grandma Kate and Grandpa Jack and...well, I forgot who else.
Me: Well, all of those people love you too.
Murray: Do they?
Of course we do, dear boy. You are a gem.
P.S. Grandpa Doug is on his way.
-MM
Murray: Where did we get that? (referring to a dresser)
Me: From Grandma Kathy (clearly I meant our storage unit that houses her things)
Murray: Did she drop it?
Murray: Mama, you're SO BEAUTIFUL (I'm not making this up and I may have already blogged about this but it's my favorite)
Murray: Mom, could I have my own? (while sharing popcorn)
Me: Yes, I'll get you a bowl.
Murray: No, I mean stop eating it, please. (so much for sharing)
Murray: Please show me what time it is. (while looking at a clock)
Me: Well, this is the big hand and that means hours, and this is the little hand and that means minutes, and each number stand for five minutes, and then you count by fives so the number one means it's five after the hour and the number two means it's ten after the hour... (insert Charlie Brown's teacher)
Murray: Great, Mom, but what time are we going to Grandma Mary's house?
Craig: Murray, have a good day.
Murray: Dad, have fun at work and have a GREAT DAY. (agreed)
Murray: Dad, when are we going out west? (to see Grandpa Doug)
Craig: Not sure, but probably in a few weeks.
Murray: How many sleeps is that?
Murray: Mom, they won't let you work anymore because they can't give you money? (right on, son)
Murray: I love my Rudy and Nala and Grandma Mary and Grandpa Dennis and Grandpa Doug and Grandma Kathy in heaven and Maggie and Grandma Kate and Grandpa Jack and...well, I forgot who else.
Me: Well, all of those people love you too.
Murray: Do they?
Of course we do, dear boy. You are a gem.
P.S. Grandpa Doug is on his way.
-MM
It's Official
I'm officially a student again. I have never been more excited than I am now. Even for my math class.
It's so gratifying to know that this time, without a doubt, I will finally walk across that stage and accept my diploma.
I digress. I'm getting ahead of myself. It's going to be a long few years. My family will suffer, my home will suffer, but I'll make up for it, I swear I will.
There are four people who have motivated me to get the job done:
1. My Mom. While co-parenting with our Dad, and a separated family, she graduated from college at the age of 33 and had a successful career in law enforcement. She also managed to be the best mom.
2. My Dad, who, with two small girls, finished college, married my Mom. After that, he finished his Master's degree. My Dad is pretty neat.
3. My sister finished her degree even though we were in the midst of our Mom being sick and then dying. She also just received a promotion (again) and is thriving being a paralegal.
4. My high school friend, Amanda, graduated from college a while back. I was so impressed while following her journey. I think it's awesome that she had to courage and tenacity to finish her degree.
I don't necessarily do things "perfectly" or follow society "rules", but I do have the best family and friends. Thanks to you who have set an example.
-MM
It's so gratifying to know that this time, without a doubt, I will finally walk across that stage and accept my diploma.
I digress. I'm getting ahead of myself. It's going to be a long few years. My family will suffer, my home will suffer, but I'll make up for it, I swear I will.
There are four people who have motivated me to get the job done:
1. My Mom. While co-parenting with our Dad, and a separated family, she graduated from college at the age of 33 and had a successful career in law enforcement. She also managed to be the best mom.
2. My Dad, who, with two small girls, finished college, married my Mom. After that, he finished his Master's degree. My Dad is pretty neat.
3. My sister finished her degree even though we were in the midst of our Mom being sick and then dying. She also just received a promotion (again) and is thriving being a paralegal.
4. My high school friend, Amanda, graduated from college a while back. I was so impressed while following her journey. I think it's awesome that she had to courage and tenacity to finish her degree.
I don't necessarily do things "perfectly" or follow society "rules", but I do have the best family and friends. Thanks to you who have set an example.
-MM
Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Hair
"I took your mom to her first movie.
I want to take you, too.
That will be a special day
devoted just to you.
When I took your mommy,
I never watched the screen.
The movie was in her smile-
to her it was a dream." - Billy Crystal - I Already Know I Love You
If you haven't read this heartwarming book, I highly recommend you do so and do it soon. My dad sent it to me as a gift in 2005, before Murray was a twinkle in our eye. Since then, it's become one of Murray's (and my) favorite books, and has teeth marks, well-thumbed, and torn pages to prove it.
I took Murray to his first movie this afternoon ("Tangled"). Billy Crystal hit the nail on the head. He was amazing to watch. "This is a REAL BIG TV, MAMA!" At one point, he began singing very loudly on cue with Mandy Moore - giggles throughout the theatre - and when I asked him to whisper he said, "but Mom, I WANT to sing with her." And of course, we splurged on the theatre must-haves: Popcorn with extra butter, (I don't share, so I bought Murray his own) M&M's and lots of water.
I can honestly say that I didn't take in much of the show, although Max the horse was probably my favorite character from what I did see. I'm so thankful to have been able to share another "first" with my little guy.
Next up: Cars 2. According to Murray, that is.
I want to take you, too.
That will be a special day
devoted just to you.
When I took your mommy,
I never watched the screen.
The movie was in her smile-
to her it was a dream." - Billy Crystal - I Already Know I Love You
If you haven't read this heartwarming book, I highly recommend you do so and do it soon. My dad sent it to me as a gift in 2005, before Murray was a twinkle in our eye. Since then, it's become one of Murray's (and my) favorite books, and has teeth marks, well-thumbed, and torn pages to prove it.
I took Murray to his first movie this afternoon ("Tangled"). Billy Crystal hit the nail on the head. He was amazing to watch. "This is a REAL BIG TV, MAMA!" At one point, he began singing very loudly on cue with Mandy Moore - giggles throughout the theatre - and when I asked him to whisper he said, "but Mom, I WANT to sing with her." And of course, we splurged on the theatre must-haves: Popcorn with extra butter, (I don't share, so I bought Murray his own) M&M's and lots of water.
I can honestly say that I didn't take in much of the show, although Max the horse was probably my favorite character from what I did see. I'm so thankful to have been able to share another "first" with my little guy.
Next up: Cars 2. According to Murray, that is.
Laughter
I cried from joy, then pain, and then the ultimate gift that was you, when you happened.
Now:
I laugh.
I cry.
I laugh again.
I get angry.
I cry, but laugh again.
I get frustrated.
I laugh until I cry.
Tears of happiness.
Because you happened.
You and your Daddy are my world.
You happened.
Your Daddy happened.
I cry again, tears of joy.
For you are a part of me.
I love you and will never stop.
Mama and Wife.
Now:
I laugh.
I cry.
I laugh again.
I get angry.
I cry, but laugh again.
I get frustrated.
I laugh until I cry.
Tears of happiness.
Because you happened.
You and your Daddy are my world.
You happened.
Your Daddy happened.
I cry again, tears of joy.
For you are a part of me.
I love you and will never stop.
Mama and Wife.
I woke up this morning to warm breath in my face and a voice that asked, "Mama, do you have to go to work AGAIN?" After I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes (it was only 5:45 a.m.) I replied, "Yes, Murray, I do have to go to work today." With tears in his eyes, a pout on his lips, he asked, "But why, Mama?" "I have to go to work so that I can make money to buy food and clothes and do fun things, I said." With that, he cheered right up, took me by the hand and exclaimed, "Get in the shower, Mom, time to get to work." Craig was outside the door laughing; who better to tell me to go to work than a 3-year-old?
It's been a busy week, but isn't it always? I love it. I love being busy, feeling productive, and even the challenges. But the best part, despite the crazy, is appreciating the peace and quiet once in a while.
Happy weekend! May you find a few moments to find some "you" time. And I hope you can enjoy it by the fire place with a good book.
It's been a busy week, but isn't it always? I love it. I love being busy, feeling productive, and even the challenges. But the best part, despite the crazy, is appreciating the peace and quiet once in a while.
Happy weekend! May you find a few moments to find some "you" time. And I hope you can enjoy it by the fire place with a good book.
Yuck
Please note: If you have a weak stomach, stop reading now. I'm only posting this for posterity.
I'm cold, I'm freezing, I'm tired, I'm exhausted. But I'm grateful. Make that blessed, grateful, and happy. We have a roof over our heads, good health, and a sweet-three-year old to love and many family and friends. And of course, the dogs and cat. But I wasn't so pleased with the latter yesterday morning.
We were dressed and ready to go to church (for a baptism that Craig was one of two Godfathers). As I was finishing my own preparations for the big day, I asked Murray to put his boots and coat on. He did so and a couple of minutes later, he came to me saying, "something stinks, mama. Pee-Yew." The smell hit me before I could look. What I discovered was Murray covered in (for lack of a better word) poop. Craig came running (well, not running, exactly, but moving as fast as a broken back will allow) after I began to gag, and together we realized that one of our animals had been sick and had an accident. In Murray's coat. And in his boot. We stripped Murray down, but by this time Craig was late for baptism, so he called the other Godfather to pick him up. In the mean time, I ran around begging our feces-covered little man not to touch anything, while looking for fresh clothes, coat, shoes, and washing my hands every 30 seconds or so. I couldn't find one of his tennis shoes (Rudy hides shoes), so I was frantically shoving his feet into last years' way-too-small shoes. That didn't work, so I was forced to clean the dirty boot, spray it with Febreeze and finally, we headed to church.
The baptism and Mass were absolutely beautiful and we made it in time. I was afraid that our fellow parishioner's would smell the boot, but no one complained, and many giggled when Murray burst into song with the choir.
Due to the weather, one of the Godmothers was unable to travel, so Murray filled in carrying the gifts; poopy boot and all. He was really quite proud.
Everything turned out in the end, and we had a beautiful day with family and friends celebrating Ava's baptism.
Moral of the story? Don't forget to make sure that the cat has access to his litter box. Oh, and always hang up your coat, even if you think it's in a safe place.
I'm cold, I'm freezing, I'm tired, I'm exhausted. But I'm grateful. Make that blessed, grateful, and happy. We have a roof over our heads, good health, and a sweet-three-year old to love and many family and friends. And of course, the dogs and cat. But I wasn't so pleased with the latter yesterday morning.
We were dressed and ready to go to church (for a baptism that Craig was one of two Godfathers). As I was finishing my own preparations for the big day, I asked Murray to put his boots and coat on. He did so and a couple of minutes later, he came to me saying, "something stinks, mama. Pee-Yew." The smell hit me before I could look. What I discovered was Murray covered in (for lack of a better word) poop. Craig came running (well, not running, exactly, but moving as fast as a broken back will allow) after I began to gag, and together we realized that one of our animals had been sick and had an accident. In Murray's coat. And in his boot. We stripped Murray down, but by this time Craig was late for baptism, so he called the other Godfather to pick him up. In the mean time, I ran around begging our feces-covered little man not to touch anything, while looking for fresh clothes, coat, shoes, and washing my hands every 30 seconds or so. I couldn't find one of his tennis shoes (Rudy hides shoes), so I was frantically shoving his feet into last years' way-too-small shoes. That didn't work, so I was forced to clean the dirty boot, spray it with Febreeze and finally, we headed to church.
The baptism and Mass were absolutely beautiful and we made it in time. I was afraid that our fellow parishioner's would smell the boot, but no one complained, and many giggled when Murray burst into song with the choir.
Due to the weather, one of the Godmothers was unable to travel, so Murray filled in carrying the gifts; poopy boot and all. He was really quite proud.
Everything turned out in the end, and we had a beautiful day with family and friends celebrating Ava's baptism.
Moral of the story? Don't forget to make sure that the cat has access to his litter box. Oh, and always hang up your coat, even if you think it's in a safe place.
Lazy Days
I'm having a lazy Saturday morning. I know that I MUST get this house in order before the end of the day, but I'm using the excuse that I can't use my hands for a few hours because I just had a manicure (but typing is obviously okay). Besides, Craig is resting, Murray is with the Grandparents, so that leaves me to some quiet time. I also have this ridiculous addiction to Edgemont, which airs on CW every Saturday. Ahhh....the beauty of "me" time.
Our shopping is nearly finished except for a few items to pick up tomorrow. As much as I dreaded black Friday (my first), it turned out to be worth it. The rest of the gifts have been purchased online, so I don't have to battle the crowds more than once. And believe me, once was enough.
My new Rumor Touch arrived yesterday. I had been using my sister's Blackberry, but I discovered that I am not, and never will be a fan of them. My new phone isn't as fancy, but it's user-friendly for someone like me, who is not tech-savvy.
So, a rather boring post today, but I just felt like writing. We continue to do well and are adjusting to our "new normal". Blessing for a very Merry CHRISTmas.
Our shopping is nearly finished except for a few items to pick up tomorrow. As much as I dreaded black Friday (my first), it turned out to be worth it. The rest of the gifts have been purchased online, so I don't have to battle the crowds more than once. And believe me, once was enough.
My new Rumor Touch arrived yesterday. I had been using my sister's Blackberry, but I discovered that I am not, and never will be a fan of them. My new phone isn't as fancy, but it's user-friendly for someone like me, who is not tech-savvy.
So, a rather boring post today, but I just felt like writing. We continue to do well and are adjusting to our "new normal". Blessing for a very Merry CHRISTmas.
No Shirt, No Work
On the ride home this evening, Murray pointed out where Craig works and the following discussion ensued:
Murray: "Mama, Dad not at work?"
Me: "No, Dad got hurt, remember?"
Murray: "Oh, he fall off roof. He can't go to work 'cause he no shirt to put on." (insert silent laughter here).
Me: "Why doesn't daddy have a shirt?"
Murray: "Because he fell off the roof, MOM!"
After a lengthy discussion about getting hurt and getting dressed, we walked in the door and Murray cried, "DAD, you don't have a shirt but you can do dishes!" Oh, be still my heart. My son gets it.
I do my best to make sure that my husband is clothed, but he gets extremely hot while wearing his brace, so he wears a cotton tank underneath that the prosthetics company provided, and nothing over the brace.
For Heaven's sake. The boy is three years old. Where does he come up with his chatter? Peace Garden Mama has precious stories about her son's hysterical dialog and points out that we will miss these words and ideas before we know it.
Embrace the innocence!
P.S. Craig biggest concern is that he can't take Murray to open skate, as he starts MYH Tots in January. Volunteers needed! I'll be on the ice too, but I'm afraid my figure skating isn't up to teaching a three-year-old.
Murray: "Mama, Dad not at work?"
Me: "No, Dad got hurt, remember?"
Murray: "Oh, he fall off roof. He can't go to work 'cause he no shirt to put on." (insert silent laughter here).
Me: "Why doesn't daddy have a shirt?"
Murray: "Because he fell off the roof, MOM!"
After a lengthy discussion about getting hurt and getting dressed, we walked in the door and Murray cried, "DAD, you don't have a shirt but you can do dishes!" Oh, be still my heart. My son gets it.
I do my best to make sure that my husband is clothed, but he gets extremely hot while wearing his brace, so he wears a cotton tank underneath that the prosthetics company provided, and nothing over the brace.
For Heaven's sake. The boy is three years old. Where does he come up with his chatter? Peace Garden Mama has precious stories about her son's hysterical dialog and points out that we will miss these words and ideas before we know it.
Embrace the innocence!
P.S. Craig biggest concern is that he can't take Murray to open skate, as he starts MYH Tots in January. Volunteers needed! I'll be on the ice too, but I'm afraid my figure skating isn't up to teaching a three-year-old.
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