for the love

evidentally his first week of school was just preparing him for the weekend.
noah picked a fight with the metal frame of his bed.

the frame won.


as tonight was coming to a close, aaron told noah to go put his pj's on and get ready for bed. Noah, being the obedient child that he is, ran into his room, by-passed his dresser where his pj's are, and dove for the bed. Somehow he landed on the bed wrong and fell - hitting the metal frame with his mouth. i was in my bedroom when i heard a thud, noah screaming and seconds later aaron yelling, "brenda". when i got to them, there was blood all over noah's mouth, chin, shirt and aaron's shirt. who knew the mouth could bleed so much. it took a few minutes but once i could get most of the blood cleaned up and figure out where he hurt his mouth, i figured we should take him to an intacare. aaron, knowing that i'm a crazy momma bear when it comes to my kids, didn't even argue when i told him i would take noah while he put reagan to bed.

Once there, the doctor gave me the option whether or not to do stitches. she said he would need about five - but on the other hand, the mouth is the fastest healing organ and he would have a better chance avoiding an infection if we let his lip heal on it's own. i decided to go with that option and noah was very relieved to avoid getting stitches. carrie - i guess we'll have to wait for that hard core game of four square later this year. (see carrie's comment on my previous post - ironicallay, she posted that comment about 20 minutes before noah fell)
for now, he's on a liquid diet for the first 24 hours and on a soft diet (for those of you, like me, who didn't know what a soft diet was -it's pretty much what i'm feeding reagan - noodles, mashed potatoes, applesause, pudding, yogurt, etc.) for the next 7-10 days.

for those of you who like visuals, here's a picture of his lip. as bad as it looks -it's way worse in person. poor kid.

noah's first week at school

DAY ONE...

fell walking home.






DAY TWO...

fell at recess.







DAY THREE - thankfully, uneventful.



DAY FOUR...

lost a tooth while eating an apple in class.







this weekend i have stocked up on bandaids, neosporin, motrin and quarters... as for his second week of school - bring it on.

Noah's first day in first grade

the tears, the sweat, the anxiety, the drama... all for this day, the biggest, the greatest, the day of all days - FIRST GRADE! (seriously, i have no idea where noah gets his dramatic streak from - none at all)

to begin the day - i got up early so i could help noah get out the door on time. one would think that an hour is plenty of time for a 6-year-old to make his bed, get dressed and eat breakfast. maybe it is for most children... but this is Noah we're talking about, a direct descendant of Aaron. (i love you babe, but it's true - you both have the attention span of a gnat, which i'll illustrate with noah making his bed)

at first, we're off to a good start. i tell him to go make his bed while i get reagan out of her crib. he says ok, and takes off for his room. once there, he goes straight to his bed, takes his pillow off and puts it on the floor. this is where we lose him. he notices a dime - which of course he has to bring to me.

noah: mom, i found this dime.

me: great noah, put it on your dresser and go make your bed.

noah: but mom, i don't know whose dime it is. i just found it.

me: it doesn't matter - you may have it... GO make your bed.

noah: so, you're saying that i can have this dime?

me: yes.

noah: ok, but what if someone comes and wants their dime back - then does that mean i stole it? i don't think it's a good idea for me to steal someone's money. we should find out whose it is.

me: noah, it's my dime, you can have it. now don't make me tell you again - GO MAKE YOUR BED.

noah: it's your dime? why did you leave it on my floor? you really shouldn't leave stuff on my floor, mom.

me: NOAH...

noah: i'm serious mom, how would you like it if i left stuff on your floor? how would that make you feel?

me: (no words, just the look. you know - the look only a mom can have. the look that says, "mean momma is just around the corner and she's not gonna be happy")

noah: (seeing the look, takes the dime and goes to make his bed)


And the morning continues like this with me pleading, threatening, and yelling to get him all ready in time for his first day of school - but at the same time still trying to keep some peace and happiness in the home as i reassure him i will miss him and how exciting it is he's so big now... it ends up being a very long hour.

and yet, we do make it out on time and noah is finally ready for his big day.


here's Noah outside, showing his excitement to his friend Kate (a fellow 1st grader)




noah, kate and dallin posing for a quick picture before they all head off to their first day in first grade!!! dallin lives next door to us and kate lives just down the road.




at the school with some of the girls in our carpool - Jane and Emma.




Noah is standing in line waiting for the teacher to take his class inside.




This is Noah's first grade teacher, Mrs. Francom. she is exactly what every child should have as a first grade teacher. i just love her.




The bell rings and the kids start walking in and i'm trying not to cry as i watch my boy heading off to school. my friend, Carrie, summed it up best - he'll now spend more time with other people each day then he will with me and this thought is what makes my chest hurt as i see him walking through the school doors.

now - most mothers would leave at this point... we all know - i'm not 'most mothers'. so of course i follow them inside so i can see him in his classroom. once he's inside i stand in the hallway with reagan and we just watch him. at this moment he looks up and sees us standing there and starts to run to us... i'm assuming it's to give me one last hug and kiss goodbye. but instead, as only noah can, he runs straight to reagan, grabs her by her little shoulders, looks into her snot-nosed, drooling face and says "i love you. please (small breath) don't ever forget me" and after a dramatic hug -for reagan- he goes back inside, ready to start his day.

conversations with a 6-year-old

Some conversations seem to make me cringe, laugh, want to pull my hair out or just laugh out loud.

Lately, Noah, seems to think we can't understand what he's trying to tell us... frankly - at times - we have no clue.

Noah: Mom, when will lunch be ready?

Brenda: In four minutes. (very precise - i know - but i've got this mac & cheese thing down to a science)

Noah: How long is that?

Brenda: four minutes.

Noah: No - i mean, how LONG is that?

Brenda: i told you - four minutes.

Noah: ugh - i know that's what you said, i'm asking - how long until it's time to eat?

Brenda: sweetheart (maybe not said very sweetly) i told you lunch would be ready in FOUR minutes. that's 240 seconds - start counting and when you're done... lunch will be ready.

Noah: ahhh, why aren't you understanding what i'm saying??? i know you said it will be done in four minutes - but what i'm asking is - how long is that?

Brenda: Noah, i love you. go to your room and i'll call you when lunch is ready and then you'll know how long four minutes is.

Noah: (as he's heading to his room) this is not fair! four minutes is like a whole hour and that's going to take forever!! i'm never going to get to eat. this is the worst day EVER!


Aaron - unfortunately - does not get off so easy....

let me set the scene for you: it's time for dinner, we're trying to figure out what we want to eat. since i have yet to go to the store, we have next to nothing to fix for dinner. Noah hears us talking and comes in and wants to play a game as to what we'll have. he wants each of us to name three things and if any of us name the same thing we'll have that to eat. i tried to explain that we don't have that many things to choose from and right now it's between pancakes and quesadilla's. noah starts getting really upset that we won't play his game and starts yelling. that's when aaron steps in, takes him to his room and has a chat. i'm sitting on the couch with Reagan and this is what i hear...

Aaron: first of all - you do not get to yell at your parents, do you understand?

Noah: yes, but i want to play my game for what we'll eat and you're not listening!

Aaron: i know you want to play a game, but it's not going to happen tonight...

Noah: but dad...

Aaron: and furthermore, you need to figure out that you are not in charge around here. we're your parents and we are in charge.

*** let me interject - it is my firm belief that if you have to tell your child he's not in charge... then you already have a problem on your hands ***

Noah: that's not fair! why can't i be the parent and be in charge?

Aaron: Because we made you, that's why. and because we made you that makes us the parents.

Noah: (big pause)

*** Brenda on the couch rolling her eyes, waiting for the inevitable question***

Noah: what do you mean you MADE me? what does that mean?

Aaron: (a bigger pause) um, when you were in mom's tummy, we made you there and that makes us the parents.

Noah: what do you mean YOU made me in mom's tummy? how did YOU make ME? i want to know dad, how did you make me.

*** Brenda is now laughing quietly on the couch, making no effort to help Aaron in anyway ***

Aaron: (wondering how the conversation went from pancakes and quesadilla's to the birds and the bees) Noah, it doesn't matter. we're not talking about this anymore, i'm the dad and i'm making quesadilla's. (with that aaron walks out of noah's bedroom, throws me a 'what are you laughing at' look, and heads to the kitchen.

Noah: (not deterred that easily) i'm serious dad - i want to know how you made me.

*** at this point i do step in and tell noah he can come and watch TV until dinner is ready. with that, the birds and the bees are forgotten as noah is flipping to his favorite channel ***


you just have to love conversations with your 6-year-old.

is the truth really necessary?

so, i'm sitting by noah - just minding my own business - when he reaches up and starts patting my arm, just under my shoulder. then he starts squeezing it - evidently it was very entertaining for him because he starts laughing and says, "mom, you're arm is so chunky".

now - if i only had friends that were so honest. but instead, being the amazing, sweet, full-of-crap, wonderful friends that they are - i hear things like "you look great!" i know they say this because that's what friends say and no one wants to be the 'honest' friend who makes you cry. i get that. the problem is, that part of my brain - you know, the one that craves sweets and makes all kinds of justifications for eating so poorly - it needs little encouragement, so when someone tells me i look good, it's not long before it has me believing that my metabolism is magic and i can eat crappy and still look fabulous! thankfully, i have a six-year-old son who keeps me level headed and fully aware of what reality really is.

for the record, this time i would like to blame my 'chunky arms' on a certain friend, let's call her "megan", who thinks she can bring over a plate of mint brownies but instead of giving them to me - she "gives" them to noah. come on! who are we kidding here? it's all about the number of brownies to noah - not the size. so if i eat one, two, maybe even three after he's gone to bed... it doesn't matter, i just cut the remaining ones in half and there's just as many when he wakes up as there was when he went to bed. so, in the future, "megan", you might as well just bring the brownies for me and save me the guilt of robbing from my own child. (i almost said 'don't bring mint brownies over until i've gotten rid of my chunky arms, but that thought was way too sad to write.)

Reagan's favorite game

Reagan's favorite game is playing peek-a-boo. but not in the normal way - she likes to play it if she can do it herself. she's actually been doing this since she was five months old... but it took me this long to actually get it on film.



isn't she such a doll???