Christmastime's a Comin'!

Decorating the boys' room isn't the only Christmas-prep the Pressleys have done this week. We've picked out a Christmas tree, decorated the Pressley Group, and signed off on a card design, courtesy of the one and only Brooke Rainey. Of course, the laundry still isn't folded, but first things first.

We decided to "donate" the Christmas tree that we've used for the last two years to the Pressley Group. For one thing, Jeremy's never liked it, and for another, we figure a live tree with the 250 pound root ball still on it (so we can plant it later) will be a lot more difficult for the boys to pull over on themselves, making the transfer a win-win, so yesterday afternoon, we trudged through the mud and the muck at Josh Sorrells' Cold Mountain Nursery and picked out the tree that they'll dig up and deliver one day next week. 

Both times that we've gone the live-tree route, Jeremy has had WAY stronger opinions on which one we pick than I have. I could be happy with a Charlie Brown tree. In fact, in terms of set up and clean up, I'd really prefer it. Jeremy, on the other hand, has enough of Clark Griswold in him to want the most perfect Christmas tree in the Smoky Mountains. Since he asks for so little, it's easy to give him this.

With that tree selected, we took the old tree to the Pressley Group today. I set it up, while the boys played with calculators and ate whatever they could sneak out of the candy bowl on the reception desk. The Pressley Group has already been very good to our family in SO many ways, so I'm glad we can do a little bit to spruce it up for the Most Wonderful Time of the Year. 

G.O.A.T.

It will be a long, long time before this isn't my favorite picture of Jones and Freddie.

Taken yesterday as the boys were dressed to have lunch with their daddy on the day that UK played (and beat!) Duke in basketball, I see it and think how I'd give anything I have for my Mayme to see it. To see my boys - one named for her father and the other for her husband and son - dressed up like the Wildcats she loved as much as I do?

It might be more happiness than she could handle.

Come to think of it, maybe that's why I'M such a Wildcat fan - because I will do ANYTHING to be more like my Mayme, whom I miss every minute of every day.
__________

(I first heard the song below when I was a student at Furman. For a long time, I was OBSESSED with the soundtrack of this revue - mostly because it featured the incredible music of Kander and Ebb, being sung by the incredible Karen Ziemba, with whom I was also OBSESSED. 

Anyway, the "Sometimes a Day Goes By" part (starts around 1:51) has always made me think of Mayme - maybe because I first heard it around the time that she died or maybe because it perfectly expresses how I've felt since she's been gone. Either way, here it is.)

Deck the Halls!

I hadn't planned to decorate the boys' rooms for Christmas. Then, I saw these "Be Merry" banners for $6.99 on the Jane app (that thing SO has my number), and Mom offered to buy the boys their own trees, and I was, like, "Well, why the heck not?"

Yesterday, spontaneously, became the day - mostly because I needed an activity to distract me from the massive pile of disgusting dishes left in the kitchen from the nite before (they have since been done, Mom. Nervous energy before the UK/Duke game took care of them). While the boys played (surprisingly nicely) in the playroom, I went to work. Just before bedtime, we had the big reveal.

As expected, Jones was beside himself. Freddie was happy, but Jones, whose love for holiday decor can only be compared to Kevin McAllister's, ran around the house for a full twenty minutes he was so full of Christmas cheer.

So now, I am, too.

For a treat, I let the boys go to bed with their lights on and turned them off when I went to bed. When his daddy got him out of bed this morning, Jones said, "Look, Daddy! It's amazing."

"Where Are You, Christmas?" Christmas is here on Haywood Drive.

(SIDE NOTE: I want to remember this in years to come, too, because I'm sure I'll need the same reminder over and over again. On the video below, you'll hear some of Keith & Kristyn Getty's Christmas music. I was listening to it as I decorated. It was incredibly heartening - in light of Saturday's terrorist attacks in Paris - to sing and saturate my mind with the truth that - "once a Babe in Bethlehem" is "now the LORD OF HISTORY!" Tears fell, as I thanked God that, no matter how out of control things seem, He is in control.)

This is when he got down like I'd been down taking pictures.
He said, "Look at Jojo! Say, '-abooshka!'" which is what I
say to make them smile. It usually doesn't work, by the way.

------------------------------------------------------------

UPDATE (one hour after original post): Well, that didn't last very long.  As soon as I finished posting this, I told the boys to come with me to get ready to head to the gym. Jones played with Freddie's tree, while I dressed Freddie. When it was Jones's turn to get ready, I said, "Come on." He said, "No." I said, "Jones, what happens when you disobey Mama?" "No." So I took him to his room to deal with his disobedience. When it didn't work - like had ZERO impact on him - I told him I would take his Christmas decorations out of his room if he didn't obey. "No," he said, so out went the snowmen. I came back in, and he was STILL refusing to obey - ALL I'D SAID TO DO WAS TO GET HIS CLOTHES ON - so I took the snowflakes from his wall. 

He still refused. 

At this point, I was, like, "Dangit. What am I gonna do now? The tree is all that's left, and it's all connected to the wall," but you gotta do what you gotta do, so I did it - I took the lights off the tree and carried it into my room. When he still refused to obey, out went the window treatment; it was easier to take it all than to untangle the lights. It was like playing strip poker with a strong-willed child. 

He then remained on his bed, unwilling to obey, for another 25 minutes - in spite of my periodic visits to see if he would. 

So for now, the Winter Wonderland is laying, in pieces, around our house. They're staying there for at least a day, so that he can take his nap and go to bed and, as he does, see the glaring holes on his wall and know that there are consequences for disobedience. 

It may not have any impact on him, but at least, it makes me feel better.

And we didn't make it to the gym.

AARRRGGGHHH.

_________________

UPDATE (one day after original post): Removing the Christmas decor seemed to have absolutely NO impact on Jones. He DID say the tree was in my room. When I asked why, he said, "I disobey," so he's getting that, but for as much as he loves his tree, he doesn't seem to be bothered one bit by its removal. So much for "creative correction."

Today

I don't know what it is about this picture,
taken VERY haphazardly as we headed out this morning,
but I LOVE it.

Now that I'm weighing in at Weight Watchers on Mondays
instead of Saturdays, the boys and I have a new routine.
We go to the gym (where I weigh) first thing and then straight
to the Pressley Group to take advantage of Donut Mondays.
Don(u)t judge me.

After Donut Monday, we went to Nan & Pop's house.
Nan & Pop were cleaning up their yard, and Freddie just
started pitching in, picking up sticks. Then, of course,
Jones got in on the action which ended up being a doubly
awesome activity - giving the boys the thrill of playing
with sticks, while teaching them the importance
of helping out with household projects.
Win-win.

Every time we walk down the stairs
into the basement / garage,
Jones looks through the open stairwell
and says, "What a messy mess!"
Today, he said it when he saw this pile
on the floor at the foot of the stairs.
When he's right, he's right.
#FelixUnger
(Also, whenever he's given the choice,
Jones ALWAYS chooses to wear his
summer "play shoes," and it's just
not a battle that's worth fighting.
Thus - sandals, when it's 50 degrees
outside, with socks.)

Jones sings "Jesus."

This is Jones after church today.

When I was a little girl at Oakwood Baptist Church in Anderson, SC, we often sang the Bill Gaither song, "Something About that Name." It was one of my favorites - and has remained so ever since. If I got scared at nite in 11 years of living alone, I'd sing it to myself, and ahhhhhhh. Instant peace. If something went wrong in the course of the day, I'd think those lyrics, and boom. All better.

Since I think about it so much, it's easy to sing to the boys. Jones especially loves it. He'll frequently ask me to sing what he calls "Jesus." In fact, it's just about the only song he ever requests. Today, as I sang it to him while putting him down for his nap (a post on THAT issue is forthcoming), I noticed he was singing every word. I knew he knew bits and pieces of it but not the entire thing, so here is a post-nap video of Jones singing the entire thing.

Almost.

Woman Crush Wednesday.

When we were dating, I remember walking in to the den one day and finding Jeremy watching an episode of one of Giada De Laurentiis's many cooking shows. He said to me, "Sweetie, before I met you, I thought she was the perfect woman." I can still see the way he wagged his whole hand back and forth as he said it.

Now, that sure was nice of him to say, but let's be honest: Giada's worth a gabillion dollars, can cook like a son of a gun, and the whole of her skinny self could comfortably fit into my left leg. If we're looking for "perfect," she's a lot more on target than I'll EVER be.  Still, I joked with him about his celebrity crush and have continued to tease him about it in the almost five years since then. Then, just before his birthday, I read that Giada was coming to Atlanta. I called Mom, who instantly said she wanted to buy Jeremy tickets as his gift, and that's how Jeremy came to be with his Woman Crush on a blustery November Wednesday.  

We had an absolutely awesome date that lasted almost all day. We left the boys in Greenville and headed to Atlanta a little after 1 p.m. On the way, we stopped near Gainesville to meet up with another Allstate agent, a guy named Matt Pruitt that Jeremy became buddies with during their ten days of training in Chicago. Then, we got to the Fox. We waited for about an hour before Giada showed up for our "meet and greet" with her ... and about 400 other people. Our one-on-one time was about six seconds long (literally), but she was perfectly pleasant. Then we took our seats in the ballroom and waited for the main event. 

As we did, Jeremy started talking to the couple next to us. I'd say they were in their mid-60s or so and in Atlanta from Raleigh. The wife said, "We're here to celebrate his birthday." I said, "We're doing the same!" And then her husband said about Giada, "I just found out she can COOK a few weeks ago!" The takeaway from the fact that we were sitting beside another couple who came for the HUSBAND is evidence to me that Giada's got that "thing."             

She also has a LOT of teeth. There have to be a THOUSAND of them. I actually blew our picture up on my phone and tried to count them. Or maybe her smile looks so gigantic, because everything else on her is so much smaller. If Giada had a face as round and full as the lovely Ina Garten, say, maybe her enormous smile would look NORMAL.

Or maybe not. 

The point remains, she was great; the event was great, and the nite got even greater when Jeremy surprised me with a late dinner at my favorite restaurant in the entire world. Bone's is where I celebrated every big event of my early and mid-20s. Its steak and signature salad were well worth breaking the Weight Watch-ing "bank" before we hit the highway home last nite. If I told him once during dinner, I told him a thousand times - "Thank you so much for being so thoughtful." 

Poor skinny, talented, rich Giada doesn't know what she's missing.

The Potty Train has left the station.

Well, just like the whole big-boy-bed thing kinda just happened one day, it appears that potty training is upon us way sooner than I'd expected it to be.

Assuming that Jones would be late training (because, Y'all, let's face it. In spite of his early arrival, he's been late at most EVERYTHING else), I'd not really thought much about potty training, except to dread the constant fear of inevitable accidents.

I know he's physically ready. He definitely knows when he's going and shows all the signs of being where he needs to be from a physical standpoint. I just didn't think he'd be emotionally ready. Or maybe I'M not emotionally ready to give up the convenience of diapers. Either way, I was planning to put it off for another few months in hopes that, maybe, I could train both boys at the same time.

Then, yesterday morning, Jones woke up with a COMPLETELY DRY DIAPER. I couldn't believe it. Neither could Jeremy who thought Jones must be dehydrated (he filled his dry diaper BIG time a few minutes later). That's when I started to think, "Okay. My window of opportunity is opening. Maybe I should seize this day."

The problem is, though Jones has the fireman potty he picked out after watching multiple demo videos on Amazon, and though he has "big boy underwear" in a myriad of designs, he's never shown much interest in either. He LOVES his "Even Firefighters Go to the Potty" book, but I don't think he's mentally connected the dots to going himself.

Or so I thought.

After his nap, I asked if he wanted to put on his big boy underwear. I assumed he'd say no. To my SHOCK, he said, "Yes." He picked out a pair with both Donald Duck AND Mickey Mouse on them. We then took the fireman potty into the den, where he ran around in nothing but his drawers, playing for 45 minutes at "taking a potty." "I have to go take a potty," he said in an endless loop of sitting on the chair and running in circles around the den.

He never actually TOOK a potty during his game, but the fact that he played it was WAY more than I'd thought he'd do, proving that, as I did with the Big Boy Bed, I had WAY underestimated my child.

After playing around for a few minutes, he said he needed his fire helmet. I got it for him; he put it on and sat back down in his red plastic chair. "It's working!" he excitedly announced. "It's working!" (It wasn't). When we went to get Freddie up, I saw Jones grab himself and then go hide in the folds of Freddie's accordion-style closet doors. I knew what was happening, so I rushed him to the potty seat. It was too late, but at least, I knew he'd gone, so it was probably safe for a trip to Wal-Mart to buy Pull-Ups for night time and a potty chair to keep in the car.

So that's what we did.

checking out his Donald drawers

Jones stayed dry the entire time. He very proudly held a package of Mater Pull-Ups, as we wheeled our way through Wally World. On the way home, we dropped by Nan and Pop's. As soon as we got out of the car, I could see he needed to go again, so I pulled his pants down in the driveway and said, "Just go, Buddy." He couldn't. Well, he wouldn't. I sat him on the car potty. Again, he wouldn't. Finally, he went a tee-tiny bit (like, MAYBE 1/4 teaspoon) in the potty. I was so proud and took the boys in the back yard to play.

He was pushing his lawnmower around the driveway ("I haffa cut grass," he always says) when he stopped and got a terrified look on his face. Again, I knew what was happening, so, with the help of his Nan, I cleaned him up, and we headed home. A little later, he went to bed, and I developed a strategy.

Knowing Jones, I think the way to play this is to talk about it a lot for several days - let him live with the Pull Ups at nite and the potty chair in the den - let him get used to these things in the same way that he took six days getting used to the big boy bed before he finally slept in it himself. I'm learning that I can't just spring things on a boy who hates change, so normalizing the implements of potty training may be the secret to a successful transition for him.

Or maybe not.

Time will tell, but this is where we are today. My boys are getting bigger every single day!

Car Conversations

ME to JONES: I love you.

JONES to ME: I love you.

ME to FREDDIE: I love you, too, Freddie!

FREDDIE to ME: "Sock."

Convos with JoJo

Jones loves this book; it's called "Even Firefighters Go to the Potty,"
and I bought it to help get Jones excited about, well, going to the potty!
Every time he opens the "door" flaps on the pages, he takes in a
catch breath and says, "He ha- to go take a pahhhh-tty!"

One of the best lessons my dad ever taught me was the importance of admitting when you've made a mistake.

He'd say, "Sometimes, you just have to square your shoulders and say, 'Hey. I messed up.'" Verbatim.

Every time, he'd say that and kinda shrug his shoulders as he did. I can't tell you how well that has served me in life.

Anyway, in trying to pass that ethic on to my boys, I find myself frequently saying, "Mama made a mistake, but it's okay. I'll fix it." I actually explained to Jones a couple of weeks ago that the important things about mistakes are 1) admitting it, and 2) fixing it, so tonite, as we cleaned up the playroom, Jones couldn't get one of the puzzles to sit flush in its little cubby.

He said, "Mama, I made a mistake!"

So I helped him to put the puzzle in right.

As we finished reading at bedtime, I told him to put his book back where it belongs, and he accidentally dropped it on the floor. He then picked it up and put it on the rack.

"I made a mistake," he said, "but I fixed it."

My work here is done.

Convos with JoJo

I have a feeling that (usually) picture-less posts with short exchanges that I have had with one or both of the boys are about to become more common, as the they get more and more chatty. For now, I'll title Jones's "Convos with JoJo," and when they start happening with Freddie, I'll come up with a title for him; both monikers will signal that the post to follow will just be a little conversation that's too long for their daily memory books but too cute to forget.

Here's a couple from today:

First, the boys were playing in the playroom when I went in to break up a fight (one of many I broke up this morning; is it a full moon or something?!?). As I went to leave, this:

JONES: Play, Mama.

ME: You want to play? 

JONES: No, MAMA play.

It's the first time he's outright asked me to play with him, so I pulled out a CARS playmat that's been on a shelf for awhile, and I picked up Wahken and handed Jones Mater, and together we "raced" through Radiator Springs. I hope Jeremy will understand if the laundry goes undone another day.

The second story came after lunch. Jones loves to get "peechures" in any form - it can be the cardboard tag from his "Christmas britches," for all he cares. He'll carry them around and put them in his pockets and prize them like honest to goodness treasures. 

Knowing this, I gave him a postcard we'd brought home from our trip to the Eseeola Lodge. It's honestly nothing more than a 3x5 card with an image of the Lodge on its front. Here's exactly what he said (I know, because I immediately wrote it down):

"A peechure? For ME?!?! Oh, sank you, Mama! ... I like dat peechure."

I include this here, because it was so precious and such a reminder of the revelation I had on his birthday to not over do it with gifts, because we don't need ANYTHING and because I NEVER want the day to come when he isn't over- the-top excited to get something as simple as a "peechure."

What are YOU thankful for?

Jones has reached the age where the answer to many questions - theological or not - is "God."

I remember Mom talking about this phenomenon when she was a teacher's aide in Mrs. English's K-4 class at Oakwood.  No matter what the teachers asked, the kids would sorta blankly stare at them and say, "GOOOOOD" as if they knew it's what the teachers wanted to hear.

Well, Jones is definitely there.

I found out this morning that Freddie is, too ... as much as a little boy who's not all that big a talker yet can be, that is.

We were working on catechisms at breakfast when this happened:


Along these lines, we were driving to have lunch with Jeremy when I asked Jones what he was thankful for. Then I asked Freddie.

ME: Freckie, what are YOU thankful for.
FREDDIE (probably blankly staring): GOOOOOOD.
ME: You're thankful for God?
JONES: And me, too.
ME: I'm thankful for God, too.

the B-I-B-L-E!

I was sitting in the den today, while the boys were playing in the playroom.

I overheard this conversation:

JONES: "'Beebullbeebull' spelllllllllsss???"
FREDDIE: "Bi-bull."
JONES: "That's right! That's right!"

They went through it MULTIPLE times in succession, basically repeating the song we sing together most often at lunch.

When things like this happen, it's always something of a catch-22. Once they KNOW I'm watching / listening, the spell is broken. The moment vanishes, evaporates into so many refrains of, "Mama this" and "Mama that." The flipside is, of course, that I SO WANT TO PRESERVE THESE MOMENTS, so I sat there, sorta wishing I had some kind of button on my earlobe that I could hit and record what I was hearing, but since I don't, I instead pressed my luck and snuck into the kitchen to get my camera.

Of course, they heard me, and the conversation they'd repeated immediately ceased. The best videos I could get were these where I kinda guided them through a recreation of what I'd heard earlier. It's not nearly as good as the real thing, but it's definitely better than nothing.

Post-purri

Here are a few random things I've found on my computer.

First, this video. Jones is singing a song that Bess and Lila taught him. It amazes me that he knows all of the words by heart:

"Shiver me timbers, yo ho ho.
It's a pirate's life for me, oh.
Blow the man down on the seven seas.
It's pirates life for me! Yo ho!"



If you watched to the end of that video, you heard Freddie say he's "free." Now, if I say, "Are you Freddie?" he says, "I Jojo."

I know that this isn't a picture of the boys, but it's the view
from our front porch. Almost every day, I'll look out the kitchen
window and see that scene and feel thankful anew
for the view we have. This is the view that first inspired
us to remodel our house, so that we can see it more often.

Finally, tonite, they started marching around the den like ghosts. How in the world they know what ghosts are, I'll never know, but here you have it (oh, and don't miss Freddie's "Flashdance"-inspired look):

Lazy Sunday

We eased ourselves into Eastern Standard Time.

After seven weeks of teaching and driving and staying in Greenville even more than usual and being away from Jeremy an average of three days a week, I am WIPED.OUT. The house is a train wreck, and I don't even KNOW how to conquer the laundry that is backed up and sprawled all over our bathroom floor, so last nite, after our Halloween celebrations, I asked Jeremy if we could skip church to just stay home, rest, and be together on this Sunday.

He didn't love the idea, but he eventually agreed.

Bless him.

It's been an amazing day. None of us even got out of our pajamas. We ate ice cream and popcorn and Skittles and leftover chili and frozen pizza, and we watched "Spooky Mickey" and NASCAR pretty much all day long.

It.was.awesome.

Here are some pictures of what was TRULY a "lazy Sunday."

Early this morning,
the boys discovered that their punkin
buckets could be used for more than
just carrying treats! They marched
around the den for probably 20 minutes,
saying, "Hut-2-3-4" over and over. 

I thought the boys looked so cute
while eating their leftover chili for lunch
that I decided to take a picture (or ten).

Seeing my camera, Jones said to Freddie, "Shh!
She gonna take a cheese." 

Here, Jones is demonstrating what to do when Mama's
"gonna take a cheese."

Here's Jones teaching DADDY what to do when
Mama's gonna take a cheese.

Freddie woke up from his nap way before Jones did,
so he got some time alone with his Mama & Daddy.

I'm gonna miss those little pumpkins
on the mantle.

See how good Jones is getting at
"taking a cheese"?!!?

Late this afternoon, the boys piled the giant animals and some of the couch cushions on the floor and started jumping into them like their own personal ball pit.

Finally, one of the things that I'll remember most about this Halloween season is just how many times we watched the "Spooky Mickey" episode of "Mickey Mouse Clubhouse." Honestly. If we watched this thing once, we watched it ten thousand times. Today, I was able to catch Jones singing along with Pete the Werewolf. It kind of amazes me how he tries to copy him so exactly. Like, watch the pose he strikes when he howls. Mama's little mimic.



Grateful for this amazing day of wonderful rest.