What EXACTLY does this mean?

So I went to Parent/Teacher conference at Adam's school yesterday. It wasn't one of those times where I was nervous about what I was going to hear. I volunteer in Adam's class which means that I talk to his teacher regularly and I'm pretty sure that if there was a problem I would know about it. I consider myself to be pretty aware and involved with the things that are going on with my boys (this is me patting myself on the back for my excellent parenting skills). This conference was really just one of those things that good parents do, and since we are good parents, we headed to the school.

After waiting for our turn for longer than we expected, Phil finally had to leave because he was going to be late for another meeting. I assured him that it was fine . . . this really isn't a big deal . . . you can go and I'll report back. So he left me sitting there with Adam, still waiting for our turn. Adam noticed another little boy pick a prize out of a basket that was sitting next to his teacher. He got excited and wondered out loud if he would get a prize too. He told me that if he got a good report he would get a prize. That's how it works I guess. Adam sat there the rest of the time completely preoccupied with the prize box. I didn't mind because it kept him in his seat, relatively quiet.

Then it was finally our turn. We confidently stepped up to the table and proceeded with the obligatory parent/teacher interaction. His teacher is very nice and Adam likes her a lot. I like

her too and she seems to be a good fit for Adam. As expected, she told me that Adam is doing really well academically. He loves math and is doing great there. No concerns at all. He loves reading and is doing great, but he needs to work a little bit on his comprehension. Adam has always been a really good reader, as far as getting the words, but he needs to work on paying attention to what he is reading. She told me that the whole class is working on that. It's a pretty standard thing for third graders. Okay. No surprise there. No worries with spelling. He is doing better with his writing, but I'm very aware that it's probably his least favorite thing in school because it takes too much time. Adam does better when he can just cruise through things, e.g math and reading. Writing requires more thought and patience; two things that he doesn't necessarily have in great abundance. His teacher told me that he's learning to formulate his ideas better and she is pleased with his recent work. I was pleasantly surprised to hear that.

Then I threw out the questions that I was pretty sure I already knew the answers to. But again, I'm a good mom so I have to play along and ask the right questions to show that I am a concerned and plugged-in parent:

Me: How is his behavior?

Mrs. A: Things are pretty good. He's doing sooooo much better.

Me: Umm . . . what do you mean?

Mrs. A: He's definitely improved since school started. I've for sure seen a big difference over the past little while.

Me: Oh. (I'm suddenly feeling a little more cautious.) How's he doing with the other kids?

Mrs. A: Soooo much better.

Me: Oh. That's good.

So here's what I'm thinking at this point: Adam's not just doing better. He's doing soooooo much better. Doesn't that mean that he was doing some crazy things before? So, he has greatly improved which should make me feel good, but I can't help but wonder what in the heck was going on before he decided to turn a corner. I looked at Adam with my eyebrows raised, and he

just smiled back at me. Even though she told me that he was doing better, I think he knew that he was busted.

We finished with a few other things and then Adam and I got up to leave. He glanced at the prize box and his teacher nodded at him to let him know he was okay to dig in. Adam normally takes for-ev-er to pick a prize so I was happy to see him grab something with no hesitation at all. We started to walk away and he reached back and quickly grabbed something else. I was still a little confused by some of the things she had told me, but being the conscientious mom that I am, I smiled down at him and said that he can only have one thing and that he needed to put one of the prizes back. Before he could respond, his teacher said "Oh, those are his. They are things that I've confiscated and told him that he couldn't have back until you came in with him." Nice. Clearly the student-of-the-month award has drifted far beyond his grasp, right along with my parent of the month award (which doesn't really exist, but I dream about it anyway). On the bright side, he's completely okay with never being a student-of-the-month type of kid. Just this morning when I told him that he needed to pick a different shirt to wear he told me that he didn't care if he looked like an idiot. In fact, he said that he likes to look like an idiot. Those were his words.

At least I can take solace in knowing that he's smart, even though he's apparently determined to never let anybody know it.

Skittle-licious Daddy

In the car last night with all three of the guys. Adam was thirsty so I handed him an unopened water bottle from the front seat. This is how it went from there:

Adam: (after a brief struggle) I can't get this open . . . Dad? Can you open it?

Phil: Sure. (Adam hands Phil the bottle, and magically, Phil opens it without too much of a struggle at all. He then triumphantly hands it back to Adam.)

Adam: How did you do that?

Noah: (with one of his seemingly "That makes no sense" comments.) Daddy has skittles.

Adam: He does?

Phil: I do?

Noah: Yeah . . . you have big skittles.

Adam: Where? I want some!

Phil: No I don't.

Noah: Yeah . . . you have big skittles to open the water.

Phil: Whu . . . oh, do you mean muscles?

Noah: Yeah, muscles. You have skittles and muscles!

Phil: He's not too far off. This body has had a few too many skittles.

17 years

The funny conversations that happen in my house usually involve one of my younger boys. This one though, came from the older boy in the house while we were driving in the car. We were talking about people who struggle with depression and other issues that might make them feel like they just don't want to do life anymore. I'm not always as compassionate as I should be (shocking to those closest to me, I know) and my view on it is that you've got to do everything you can to just suck it up and keep going, even when it's hard and things are dark. This is a paraphrased version of the conversation, with the important parts pretty much word-for-word:

Phil: Maybe I've been living with you too long, but I'm starting to think the same way.

Me: Especially if you've got kids . . . you don't get to just lay in bed all day and ignore your responsibilities. Sometimes you've just got to will yourself to keep putting one foot in front of the other and I think that if you keep going, sometimes the fog can lift a little bit. But it's so easy to just let it overwhelm you and then it gets worse.

Phil: I'm not so sure that everybody needs therapy to deal with their issues either. Sometimes if you just force yourself to keep going, things can get better.

Me: But if you allow yourself the luxury of just checking out, I think you can sometimes create a downward spiral and it is self-perpetuating.

Phil: Seriously. I've been depressed for 17 years. Where would we be if I just decided that I didn't want do get up in the morning, even on the days that I just feel a weight over me?

Me: 17 years? You've been depressed for 17 years?

Phil: You know what I mean. Off and on . . . some days it's just hard to push through the fog.

Me: Happy 17th anniversary, dear.

Phil: Doh!

After that there was a lot of fumbling and backtracking and I think he said something about 17 just being a random number and he wasn't even thinking that our 17th anniversary was the day before.

And I told him that he just made the blog. And he was embarrassed and didn't think I would really put this out there. Silly Phil.

(In the interest of letting everybody know that we aren't complete heathens, Phil is a psychologist who does therapy as part of his job. We both recognize that depression is real. And we both know that sometimes issues can be so serious that you can't just "will" your way through it. We weren't talking about those situations.)

Top Ten Reasons that a Caribbean Cruise is a GREAT way to vacation!

10. When you cruise the Caribbean, you can jump off from New Orleans, and New Orleans is where you will find Bourbon street, and Bourbon Street is an EXCELLENT place to take young boys on the Saturday afternoon before the Saturday night Florida/LSU football game.

I can't know for sure since there's no way for me to be inside his head, but I'm fairly certain that in this one Noah was contemplating the risks/benefits of following a couple of frat guys into the bar for a margarita . . . until he realized that I was watching.

(BTW - I've decided that New Orleans is a pretty cool city. I'll try to post details on our time there later.)

9. New Orleans also has Cafe du Monde which serves a mean beignet. Everywhere else in the USA a beignet is called a scone, but in New Orelans they dump gallons of powdered sugar on the bread after it is fried and if you say beignet with a French accent you can convince yourself that eating six of them isn't unhealthy. It's French after all, and who on earth eats healthier than the French?

8. My boys seem to like each other more when they are waiting to get on a cruise ship bound for the Yucatan Peninsula. I'm almost positive that if we were waiting to get on a cruise ship bound for the Baja Peninsula they would have been fighting a lot more.

And it wasn't just because they were excited to get going. This one is from the middle of the week in Cozumel. Adam was towing Noah in after Noah got tired of swimming, and they were both laughing. I'm telling you, this water is magical.

And this one is from the last day when we were waiting to leave. Because Noah doesn't have his citizenship yet we had to attend a meeting with other non-citizens before they would let us off the boat. Phil and I were MUCH more cranky at this point because we had been waiting for an hour for Sergio and Barbara to show up before we could go through customs. I know we were waiting for Sergio and Barbara because they were paged approximately a dozen times before they decided to finally stumble in and join the rest of us. We found out later that the debarkation process for the entire ship was held up because of these yahoos. Thanks Serge. Thanks Barb.

(I'm choosing to block out the one ugly incident between the boys when I was in the shower and Phil was on the deck and they got in a fight. Noah drew blood with a fierce scratch to Adam's cheek. We still aren't exactly sure what Adam did to provoke him, but I'm guessing they came out even.)

7. Phil is waaaaayyyyyy more radical in the Caribbean.

6. Noah was near his homeland, and I think he felt it.

He rocked the dance floor . . .

And the dining room . . .

And the beach!

5. I'm pretty sure that Progresso, Mexico is the only place on the planet that after a day at the beach an 8-year-old American boy can barter with a middle-aged Mexican man to get a shriveled shark head for the bargain price of $5. And you'll be happy to know that shriveled shark heads maintain their lovely ocean odor for what seems to be forever. Much like a beloved new puppy, the shark head spent his first night home in Adam's bedroom. After opening the bedroom door the next morning I quickly determined that the shark head would live in the garage indefinitely.

4. Towel animals and mints on our bed every night . . . and, let's be real, somebody else making the beds every morning.

3. Twelve skinny little boys in one hot tub . . . and they were all happy to share the space. I'm sure that the hot tub reserved for the adults that you can see in the top of this picture wasn't nearly as friendly (at least not in the middle of the day).

2. Breakfast on deck with Noah while Phil and Adam snoozed away in the cabin.

This is another one where I can't know for sure, but I think Noah was doing another risk/benefit analysis. This time the question was whether or not the people laying out on the lower deck would appreciate having syrup or juice dribbled on their backs.

1. This is not a chlorinated swimming pool with it's bottom painted blue . . . this is what the Caribbean ocean looks like. Unbelievable.

1a. Cheeseburgers and Pizza for dinner EVERY NIGHT if that's what you choose. Noah did inhale a cheeseburger every single night, and one night he followed it up with a pb&j. Adam mixed it up a little bit and only had pizza half the time.

Phil convinced Adam to have the lobster tail one night . . . (that Phil and I happily finished off after Adam got full),

. . . and after much contemplation, he even tried some escargots. He liked them. According to Adam, they taste just like beef. I think Adam actually gained a pound or two on the cruise. (Notice the scratches on his face? Thanks Noah.)

The escargots were also a hit with Sam. . .

But not so much with Lizzy.

1b. Chocolate Melting Cake! This little cup of paradise was my cheeseburger. I convinced myself that it was calorie and fat free so that I could enjoy one every night. .

1c. 'Nuff said.

I tried to keep it to ten, but seriously, that wasn't going to happen. There's no way. I'll post more pics on facebook in a day or two if anybody is really interested in seeing more.

Pinewood Derby: Success!

Last night was Adam's first ever Pinewood Derby. It was his dad's second ever. Phil's first one was a less than successful outing that came when he was a scouter himself. He told us that the wheels tumbled off of his car the first time down the track and that was the bitter ending to his very short Pinewood Derby career. As they worked on Adam's car Phil kept telling him to not get his hopes up about winning because Phil knew nothing about building the cars and none of us had any idea how it would turn out.

Without sharing all of the details, we have far greater hopes for Adam's future as a derby participant. He came in second last night and we all came home very excited. Adam just wanted one of the trophies and they all looked the same to him so first, second, third was irrelevant. When they announced his name for second place he trotted over to the table where the trophies had been sitting and was stunned to see the space empty. He seriously did a double-take and then looked over at us panicked as if to say "What the heck happened to MY trophy?" Apparently when he had stopped staring at the trophies for a split second they had moved them to the front of the room. Anyway, here are a few picture highlights from Adam's (and Phil's) big night.

The Masterpiece - It won the award for "Best Body Work" too. Phil was so proud.

Phil acted like it didn't matter. He kept telling everybody that I was the competitive one in the family. I say this picture says otherwise. It looks to me like there was some smack talking going on between Phil and the other little boys.

Adam's car is in the middle here, which was the slow lane for some reason. I think Hunter's car (right side) edged Adam out by a hair in this race.

Waiting at the finish line.

Collecting his trophy.

Adam with his buddy, Hunter, who took third place. In case you can't tell, they were very excited.

Even if his car hadn't done so well, I felt pretty good about the fact that he was definitely the cutest kid out there. (I'm not at all biased.) Hunter is pretty darn cute too.

Things I am Grateful For: Ex-lax and Citrucel (keep reading - it's not what you think)

Because I know it's on everybody's mind, and a few of you have even asked, I guess it's time to dish on what happened when I took Noah to Primary Children's last week for a thorough discussion about his "pee issues" with the pediatric urologist. I won't go into all of the details because sheets need to be changed and the lawn needs to be mowed (hopefully for the last time this year). Let's just say that without doing some "very invasive procedures" they can't be 100% sure, but they are pretty much convinced that there is nothing physically wrong with Noah . . . at least not yet. They gave me the go ahead to continue banging my head against the wall. Yipppeeeeeee!!

I came home with an article entitled "Parent's Guide: Normal and Abnormal Urination in Children" (guess which category my boy is in) and instructions to give Noah some Ex-lax and Citrucel to loosen his bowels. I'm not sure where they got the idea that his bowels needed to be loosened and I was more than skeptical upon hearing that advice. At first all I could come up with by way of explanation was that if we loosen him up maybe he will start pooping his pants too and that way the pee wouldn't seem so bad. In reality, she gave me a really involved explanation about how his pooping muscles and his peeing muscles work the same way. She had a theory that his pee issues are a result of him holding it in to the point that he doesn't even notice the pressure anymore and it eventually overflows. She said that he most likely never completely empties his bladder either, so he's never far from overflowing which explains why the kid can pee 27 times in a single day. (I obviously paraphrased - her explanation was much more clinical). She said it's not uncommon in kids who are "busy" because they just don't want to be interrupted for something so mundane as a potty break. Most kids, even the busy ones, eventually get past it, but some of the "busier" kids continue to struggle beyond what seems reasonable, e.g. Noah. If he was having those pee issues she theorized that he was probably also holding in his poop and we needed to clean him out. I told her that he poops pretty much everyday, but she convinced me to at least try it to see what might come out. She said that if he can learn to properly use his pooping muscles he will hopefully also learn to properly use his pee muscles.

So, against every sane thought in my head, I decided that I really had nothing to lose (other than a pair of underwear or two) so I came home by way of Rite-Aid and picked up the Ex-lax. The next day I took Noah shopping and we picked out a bunch of potty prizes. I had tried the reward method about a year ago with complete failure, but armed with the knowledge that he didn't have a physical problem I was prepared to give it another go. I was more than willing to take a gamble thinking that if it worked it would be the best 30 bucks I had ever spent.

Long story short, by day two on Ex-lax and Citrucel (which he LOVES by the way - he calls it Super-cell) that kid was cleaner than a whistle and I was beginning to catch the doctor's vision. Without getting too graphic let's just say that I was AMAZED at how much storage space Noah has in his little body. Holy poop!

This is how it's gone up to this point:

Day 1 after clean out: Dry until about 5:00. No prize for Noah, but we are all feeling optimistic.

Day 2 after clean out: Dry until about 3:00 and then dry for the rest of the day. No prize again, but still feeling okay about our plan.

Day 3 after clean out (yesterday): Dry. All day. Really. When I dropped him off at pre-school I asked them to send him to the bathroom before recess rather than waiting for him to ask and he cooperated. Noah got his first prize last night for not wetting his pants the entire day and he was thrilled. I was more thrilled.

This picture is just evidence for me to look back on later when he undoubtedly does some backsliding. I have a feeling that I will need a reminder at some point that he CAN do it and that we shouldn't give up. The underwear on his head is proof that he did it for a day. I never would have put it on his head unless it was TOTALLY clean and dry. Wooo-hooooooo!!

For his first prize he picked the sticky hand, and he has been busy doing damage with it all morning, which is totally okay with me. :-)

Optimistic Adam

This morning Phil and I were doing our best to take advantage of conference Sunday by sleeping in, but our boys had a very different idea. Although we couldn't sleep over the noise they were making downstairs, neither of us wanted to get up, so we stayed in bed and listened to them with our eyes still closed. This is a portion of what we heard:

Adam: Noah, what is 84 division by 12?

Noah:

Adam: C'mon Noah . . . what is it? 84 division by 12?

Noah:

Adam: 84 division by 12 . . . 84 division by 12 . . . Seriously Noah, you KNOW this one.

Noah:

Me: (laughing as much as my half asleep body would allow) Do you hear that?

Phil: (with his eyes still closed and in a very groggy voice) Yeah I hear them. Noah barely learned how to count to 10. He only gets his ABC's right about half the time. And he still hasn't mastered bladder control but Adam somehow thinks he can do division???!?

Now that's a supportive (although misguided) older brother, don't you think?