Often, I wonder at Drew's relationship with our other two children. Will it be a good one? He is 8 years older than Addyson. Or will it be strained and distant? What does Drew really feel about them? These are not questions I can ask him...they are questions that will only be answered in time.
Today, I was sorting through a couple of things next to my computer, when I came across a handwritten poem that Drew had done. It is obvious that the poem was one that the teacher assigned, and the students had to change the wording to make it their own.
His is titled "Addyson"
It reads: If I could grant a wish for you I would get a thrill or two
May you get no chores when you get older May you get older and a whole lot bolder
May you be beautiful and really sweet May you be always organized and really neat
May you have the skills of a great saint May you always have fun and never faint
May you always have a lot of fun May you get married and have one son
May you never have to pay a fare May you never be attacked by a bear
May you always be very rich May you never become a snitch
May you never be truly pale May you never step on a nail
May God bless you all of the time My you live until 99
Oh, if I could grant a wish for you, I would get a thrill or two.
Thank you, Drew for answering one of my questions early. I sure do love you.
Drew is smart. He's funny. He's charming, and a major talker. Drew also has the last minute syndrome. Okay, I may be making the up the affliction, but I bet you know someone you'd diagnose with this as well. If so, then you are no stranger to the feelings of frustration induced by this particular trait.
My down time happens when my children go to bed for the night and my workout is done. Unless Drew strikes...which he does...often. It's 7:30, the two youngest have been in bed for 30 minutes, and I am about to go do my workout. Drew strikes. "Shannon, I forgot. I need you to check my math homework, or quiz me for my spelling test, or proofread my peom (choose any of them)." I stare blankly at him, trying to reign in my fuming temper. "Drew, why do you wait until the last minute?" (Though I don't know why I ask this, because the answer just makes me angrier...it's the same every time). "I don't know." No longer can I look forward to a little relaxation after the workout...now I have homework to do.
It's Wednesday, and I have gone to the grocery store earlier in the day while Drew is at school. I have dinners planned out for the next several days. Things are looking good. Drew comes home from school and begins his ritual of telling me about his day. With feined interest (don't think me miserable, I can only be actually interested the first 100 times I hear the same story) I listen as he tells me how he scored the winning touchdown in flag football or how so and so told him his breath stinks (hmm, maybe I'm on to something with the whole teeth brushing thing, ya think?). Then...Drew strikes. He tells me he needs Valentine's cards for class. I tell him I will get them when I can. He informs me he needs them for tomorrow. Somehow I fail to see why this should be yet another emergency on my part. Somewhere along the way, I swear, our kids are supposed to get wise to the fact that waiting until the last minute never has a good outcome. "Well," I say "if I can get to the store I will get them for you." That is not an acceptable answer for Drew. He says "If I don't bring them, I can't participate in the party, and I have to sit and do homework while the others are passing out their cards." Nice try, buddy. Somehow I don't think it would fly for the teacher to punish any student who couldn't bring cards. I have already decided that I will get the flippin' cards, yet I don't let him know that. I want him to sweat a little. Call me sadistic, I won't be offended.
I end by telling him that maybe next time he will not wait until the last minute to let me know something is needed. That sitting in class doing homework while the others are getting a sugar buzz will be a good lesson. He says he won't wait next time. We both know that's just a pipe dream. I sure wish I had a person willing to drop everything to pick up my slack when I drop the ball. I think I need a wife.
Note- I have to say, for fear of being lashed, that my husband actually picked up the cards on his way home from work...but somehow, that detracts from the snarkiness of my wife comment, so I omitted it from the post ;)
things look a tad wintry. This is afterall, Arizona and we are not used to this view. Here are a few peeks (and peaks) into what we see from our backyard.
Addyson
Colton
Drew
A wash that runs(in weather like we've had recently) directly behind us...
And how 'bout a Saguaro so we can tell it's still Arizona
Currently, these are the views from our perspective.
We are conducting an experiment in the name of science. Heading up the experiment is Drew. It's for his 6th grade project.
After having several ideas dashed to bits by the science teacher, Drew finally found (well, Andy found, but who's keeping score), a grand idea. Who has the dirtiest mouth? The subjects? Two dogs, two horses, and two people. Drew has to test in order to prove his theory. He believes (as do I), that the people will have the dirtiest mouths. Orbit anyone? Followed by the horses, then finally, coming in with the cleanest of the three types, the dogs.
In a petri dish he has mixed a sterile solution of agar (forms a gelatin), upon which he swipes a swab that has been rubbed in the mouth of the subject. He is to make observations daily, and note any changes.
The project began last night, and already the two dishes with activity are...you guessed it...the people. Condensation is forming in the veritable hot house of germs within the peoples' petri dishes. Nothing so far on the others.
Isn't this riveting? Soon, we will all be armed with the ever so useful knowledge, and answer to the age old question...Who has the dirtiest mouth?
Keely is hosting another "getting to know you," and so I thought I would join in. This time we are asked to post a favorite Christmas picture, and tell a little about it.
This is Drew, my stepson last Christams. First, I just love this picture of him. Second, it was taken with the camera my dad had gotten me for my gift. I LOVE the camera! I hadn't a clue how to use any of the settings yet (still am not great, though better). It's my Canon Rebel Xsi, and this year I am hoping that Santa finds me deserving of a new lens and some other accessories.
If you have some favorite Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanza/whateveryoucelebrate pitures, post them and link up over at Mannland!
Yes, you read correctly. I asked if anyone has ever pooped on your floor...like besides your pet. I have had the misfortune of this happening twice! Once several years ago, and again today.
Several years ago, we were still living in our old house. It was summer and my husband's brother and his family came to visit. They have six kids. It was a mad house. All the kids were swimming in the pool out back; the husbands were outside watching them while my sister in law and I were inside putting lunch together. Suddenly I could hear my husband bark at my stepson to get out of the pool. Next I heard a muffled butt chewing right outside our back door (it was just off the kitchen). In comes Drew, fresh out of the pool and no towel in sight. As he traipses across the kitchen floor I find mysef getting annoyed that he is leaving puddles behind as he goes. Little did I know I should have been wishing the puddles were the only mess he would leave on my kitchen floor. Unbeknownst to me, Drew was having such a merry old time with his cousins in the pool that he couldn't be bothered with such civilities as coming in the house to use the bathroom. Nope. He crapped himself. I found this out when my husband grabbed Drew's arm to hurry him along through the kitchen, and jarred a turd loose...which in turn slithered out of his pants and onto my floor. My kitchen floor!!! Speachless. Slightly embarrassed. Conflicting feelings of aggravation and amusement all at once. That was me in the horrible seconds after it made its debut with a sickening little plop. Like I said, my brother in law and his wife have six kids...it would take much more than that to shock my SIL.
Flash forward to today. I am putting a Christmas movie on for Addyson when she goes bolting out of the room towards my bedroom. Her potty is in my bathroom, and this is a regular occurrence so I knew she would be hollaring for me to come and wipe her momentarily (I bet you think you know what happens). Maybe I go to wipe her and she has had an accident on the floor in there? Nope. She never calls me to wipe her. She just comes gallivanting back out to the living room. I am distracted with the DVD player, and absently tell her to go back in to the bathroom so I can wipe her bottom. She stays. She farts. She laughs. I say something like "oh that was really nice, Addyson." She thinks she is funny, she tries to fart again, and does. Still distracted I hadn't noticed something else had also escaped her precious little bottom. She tears out of the room to the bathroom wailing away. Crying? What did she do? I look down to the space on my carpet she had occupied not seconds before to see a little bitty poop. Does it get any better than this? Fortunately, it cleans right up without leaving a trace. I go in to wipe and console her. I explain that I am not mad...I know it was an accident. She stops crying. All's well that ends well.
The other night, we were lazing about in front of the T.V. (watching something educational I'm sure), when the subject of the ten commandments came up. It reminded me of a story Andy told a few years ago about Drew.
He was with Drew at one of his CCD classes, and our priest asked if any of the kids knew the ten commandments. As Andy tells it, Drew couldn’t contain himself at the opportunity to answer. Thrashing around in his seat, hand raised in the air, muffled little murmurs that sounded somewhat like a wounded animal. So, what could the priest do but pick him?
Guess what Drew did? Again, as Andy recounts…Drew directed his eyes to the ceiling as if in deep though, mouth agape and uttered these words “uhhhhhhhh.” Yep. That was it. That’s what he knew. Somehow I think we were remiss in making sure his teachings were sinking in.
So, back to the other night. We rehash this story, and are chuckling when Drew says “well, I still don’t know them all but I know a couple.” I bite. “Okay, Drew, what are some of them?” Drew “Ahhhh. One is like don’t try to do something to your neighbor’s wife.”
