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Monday, June 29, 2009

Monday Summer Mornings

Today is the first day all the boys are home and we don’t have summer school. It’s cool and refreshing out the windows, the sun is shining, there are big puffy clouds floating in a brilliant blue sky.

A perfect day for sleeping in.

Last night my husband and I drove to get the boys at my parents, where my mom made us her famous home made pizza. Yummy! As soon as we pulled in, S4 was jumping on the car like a hyper active dog; as soon as I opened the door he fell onto my lap and hugged me as hard as his little three year old arms could. Then he let me go, just to hug me again. For the rest of the night I had to sit with him while he went poop twice, heard how the garbage can stung him (it was a bee in the garbage can that hold pig food), heard about the beach, heard about the golf cart rides, heard about everything he was sure I needed to know.

S2 was following right behind S4 and gave me a big hug and for the rest of the night he was showing me something he had done or sharing how S1 hadn’t wanted to play in the creek, hadn’t wanted to run down the paths, hadn’t wanted to do anything but play legos. He would wander out to play, only to come back and tell me something or rub my back or give me a hug.

S3 was carrying around the bow he has there and told me about all the great shots he had taken. S3 is a wanderer. He would wander in to tell me something, forget what it was, wander out to remember it and then come back to tell me.

S1 asked if he had to go home and told us about the Lego village he had built, explained how old bull dozer toys worked, informed us of all sorts of interesting facts about the car museum he had gone to with Papa and the tractors he had learned so much about this weekend.

I swear they all grew another inch and they all looked so much older in those nearly three days!

When it was time to go, S1 asked if he could stay one more night. S4 asked if he could stay there forever.

I was really hoping my parent’s house would be trashed, that my mom would look exhausted. Her house was spotless, she looked like nothing was abnormal about her weekend but she did have the suburban loaded for us to leave. And all the clothes the boys had worn that weekend were washed, dried, folded and packed.

How does my mom do that?

When we got home, I could hardly keep my eyes open. I didn’t even make my husband’s lunch. I have no idea what time the boys went to bed because they were watching a movie when I crawled into my nice clean soft bed, closed my eyes and never opened them till eight in the morning, when I heard the boys pounding down the steps. When they realized I was still sleeping, they put a movie in.

It was just a perfect morning. The boys were snuggled down with blankets watching a movie; I could imagine where each one was. The breeze was cool. I could hear my chickens clucking and the birds chirping. My cat was perched upon my back, ready to attack any mouse that may ever have a suicide mission to enter this room and come near me, and purring in the meantime.

It was all so perfect my heart nearly burst.

But I fell back asleep. I knew I was tired, but I was shocked when it was after nine.

I quickly jumped out of bed. The boys had just put in another movie.

S3 followed me into the kitchen where I was sleepily putting together a very strong pot of coffee. “Moma, would you make toaster waffles?”

Toaster waffles meant home made waffles. From scratch. I had been thinking pancakes, mix and water and whala! Pancakes!

But S3 wouldn’t give up. Oma makes him waffles… we made waffles. Just in case I would forget, he begins to haul out the waffle iron, the bowl and then he scootches a stool over to the counter to keep me on task.

The sound of the metal stool screeching across the linoleum brings S4 into the kitchen. He arrives like a tornado, trying to haul his wooden stool to the counter, screaming for someone to take the bottles off of it, banging the stool into the side of the counter and then asks what we are doing.

S4 is in charge of stirring, or rolling as they call it. As they help, the continue to rattle off all the fun things about Oma and Papa's house. S4 decides to help crack eggs, the egg explodes into the air and only the shell makes it into the batter. While I clean up the shells, he runs to the bathroom and gets out a rare clean bath towel to clean up the egg that is all over the counter. We continue mixing up the waffles; S4 takes a sip of his chocolate milk and immediately spits it out. “This is YUCKY!” I know it shouldn’t be, I have the same chocolate milk in my coffee! Although, I am wondering now….I look into his cup and the egg that had exploded is partly in his cup of milk.

While the waffles are cooking in the waffle maker, S4 gets bored and runs back to the movie and then runs back in to see we aren’t done yet, runs back to the movie…you get the idea.

S3 gets the first waffle and I give him a whole big, take up the whole dinner plate, waffle. His eyes get huge, he beams and walks proudly to the table to show it off. When his brother’s stay glued to Cheaper by the Dozen, he goes in to declare he is eating a huge waffle.

As I write this, everyone has a waffle at the table. Everyone who was starving, who told me how much they love waffles, hasn’t eaten more than a few bites of waffles. Instead they are all outside getting the slip and slide ready.

While writing this, I have been shot with a bow and arrow numerous times, I have a dandelion now behind my ear, someone pulled into the driveway and I had to crawl away from the door because I wasn’t fully dressed yet, S4 had to show me how sticky his hands are, S3 explained how big Chickie has gotten since he was gone. S2 choked back tears while he explained it’s not nice to use the hose to fill the chicken water when the sink is full of dishes, my husband called to ask if I was going to clean house, weed and do laundry today……..

My life back to normal. And I am loving it!

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