I had no idea that learning how to pedal was such an ordeal.
It literally took Jones MONTHS to figure it out - maybe this is normal, or maybe it's just indicative of his complete resistance to new experiences (he's getting MUCH better about this), but pedaling did not come easily to him. He mastered it earlier this year on the tricycle we keep at Mom's, but even still, he showed ZERO interest in pedaling the bike we bought him for his third birthday.
Now that he's almost four, I decided it was time for him to get used to it. Since we stored it there, I started making Jones practice on the Radio Flyer every time we'd be at the Pressleys' to ride his tractor. You can imagine, though, how much her preferred John Deere green to Radio Flyer red. He'd do the lap I required, but he didn't do it happily.
I decided to bring the bike home, so he could ride it without the
tractor distraction, and that has been the secret to his success, I think. Now, he asks to ride it all day. He's getting really fast and very steady on it - and, though he's fallen off twice, he's gotten right back on it, which makes me very, very proud of him.
Today, I decided to pull out my bike, so I could ride with the boys. They have LOVED this. Jones has been especially curious about the name "Charity." Initially, he told me HIS bike is named Charity, too, but later in the day, he changed it to James ... because, since it's red, he was pretending it was the red train on Thomas, whose name just happens to be ... you guessed it.
The pedal problem must be pretty universal, because Freddie, for whom many things come more easily than they did for Jones, struggles, too. He's got the motion, but his legs aren't quite long enough to keep up with himself, so he just scoots with his feet ... the exact same way Jones did.
Anyway, the boys and I have been having a ball with our bikes. I can't wait until they're big enough to tackle Cades Cove!
Just in time for summer to end, lake trips keep getting better and better.
Just Jeremy, the boys, and I went on this weekend's lake trip, but my family came up to spend half of Saturday with us, which was absolutely THE BEST. They showed up around lunchtime. As soon as they big boys got out of "Sissy's big, giant car," they had a monster gun battle with the little boys.
Then, the little boys went to bed, while the big boys - and everyone else but Mom - went for a boat ride. The fun began with kneeboarding and carried on with swimming and tubing and standing on an apparatus on which people are meant to sit.
After the boys napped, they (and Mom) hit the water with us. We boated to Boundary Waters (my favorite place to get a snack) and then to the Blue Otter where they wouldn't serve us, BECAUSE MY TODDLERS DIDN'T HAVE ON TSHIRTS WITH THEIR BATHING SUITS. No. Seriously.
When the time came for every else to head back to South Carolina, Jones was devastated. He watched them drive away and then asked me, "What about our friends?" I said, "They have to go back to their houses." Jones responded, very sullenly, "They don't need to. I need them to stay here."
I knew exactly what he meant.
Here's are a slideshow and some other videos of our amazing day.
The boys and I stayed on through Sunday evening. We had a DELICIOUS breakfast at Mary's - seriously. We need to start going there more often. I LOVE it! - and then came home to get ready to go to our "wake church."
After naps, which were surprisingly short for a Sunday afternoon, we took another boat ride (again to Boundary Waters). It rained through a big chunk of it, but the boys were TOTAL troopers. They didn't complain once about being cold. Once "Mr. Sun" came back out (Freddie always says, "We in tree tunnel; Mr. Sun can't find us"), the boys started wrestling. It was all in good fun, but MAN, were they laying into one another.
Whenever Freddie would stop, though, Jones would beg, "Freddie! Play with me!"
At one point as they played, Jones took Freddie's beloved "boat hap" off of Freddie's head and put it on his own. Then, as the words, "DON'T THROW THAT HAT" came out of my mouth, JONES THROUGH THE HAT INTO THE WATER.
As soon as Freddie saw it go overboard, he turned to me and said, "Pease get it." Broke my heart. He LOVES that hap.
AS SOON as it was out of his hands, Jones was IMMEDIATELY saying, "I'm so sorry. I am so sorry. It's all my fault." Whether he was really sorry - or was just trying to put off his inevitable punishment - I can't be sure, but I TRULY get the sense that it was a crime of control. They were laughing and having fun, and I think he just lost control of himself, though not maliciously at all.
We talked about his need to be self controlled, and he continued apologizing over and over again. I told him he'd have to earn the money to buy Freddie a new boat hap, and he agreed without arguing.
Jeremy turned around, and we spent a good twenty minutes searching for the hat in the water, but it was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, it'll be easy to order another one - and it's a good way for Jones to learn that, sometimes, paying for your mistakes means LITERALLY paying for your mistakes.
So when we got back to the lake house, the boys took a bath. When they were done, they got out of the water, and Jones went to work, which backfired a little bit, as he LOVED it. I should've known better than to punish a neat freak by giving him more chores. He had to clean the tub, the sink, the toilet, and the kitchen countertops (I didn't let him use any cleaners; he just wiped where I'd - unbeknownst to him - already cleaned), and then he helped me put the silverware back in the drawer.
"What's my next job, Mama?" he'd ask, and suddenly, I've got a huge list of things he loved doing to add to his list of chores at home. For his efforts, he earned $4. $21 to go.
On the way home, we stopped at Vito's in Franklin and had some of the best pizza ever, which was an appropriate end to one of the best weekends ever.
Our last lake trip of the year is scheduled for Labor Day weekend. I can't believe summer has come and gone, and while I'm so ready for Fall, I'm gonna miss our days at Lake Chatuge until they start up again next Spring.
A few funny things:
1) Jones wanted to rideon his Pop's tractor at the lake. He told me, "I'm gonna ride it with my pow pow, so everyone will get out of my way." Good thinking, Son.
2) Freddie always points to boats and bodies of water - be they real, imagined, or in a book (or even the Delta Queen picture that hangs on his bedroom wall) - and says, "Nah my jacket," meaning "not without my jacket." I guess my hammering the "YOU MUST WEAR A LIFEJACKET NEAR ALL BODIES OF WATER" has dug in deeply. Woohoo.
3) When he felt the rain start, Jones said, "That rain is getting more water in the lake." I thought that was a really astute observation. No, seriously!
4) I said, "Do you feel that rain?" Jones answered, "It's not rainin'. It's drippin'." I said, "Do you mean 'drizzling'?" He said, "Nope. It's drippin'."
5) When they were in the bathtub, I gave them some red Solo cups to play with. They stood up and put one foot in their cups. Jones said, "We've got cups on our feet! We're Captain Pete" (which is a character on "Pirate Mickey").
6) Freddie locked the door to his grandparents room ON HIS WAY OUT of it, so I had to take the doorknob off. I had trouble getting this done. Jones told me I needed to use a Mouseketool. "It can help you," he said.
Freddie has the biggest heart. This is evidenced in many ways, not the least of which is the way he makes sure his bear his covered up, too, when he goes to sleep. "Bear want binkie," he'll say in his sweet little voice.
After I dressed the boys for church, I told them to stay in their chairs, while I got dressed (Jeremy was in the shower). I heard scuffling in the den and came in there to find they were sliding around as if they were wheelchairs, but they were, technically, still in the chairs.
I loved having both boys squeeze on to my lap and wondered if they'll both still fit there next summer?
I have a PhD and spent five years teaching college-level theatre classes.
Still, the thought of teaching my boys their numbers, shapes, and ABCs has me totally terrified. In fact, 95% of the people I've talked to about the necessity of preschool have told me not to even bother with it. That - plus the expense plus geographical limitations - is what convinced me to forego formal school for at least a few more years (and possibly longer).
But something in me still feels like their little minds are such sponges right now that I don't want to miss a window where they can soak up all kinds of learning, so ready or not; here we go.
Pressley Prep is officially in session.
Well, "officially" may be too strong a word. I've turned one wall of the playroom into what kinda looks like a classroom. There's a calendar and Christian and American flags (which the boys have marched all over the house carrying on more than one occasion). There is a bulletin board-shaped rectangle bordered by cartoon-y fish, Office Depot's royalty-free Nemo knock-off, and there's a table with three chairs around it where my boys and I will sit while I (attempt) to teach them the foundations of learning.
From where I sit, brain surgery may be an easier endeavor.
The boys have been super excited to see the playroom transition in to a classroom over the last week. Yesterday, they were so thrilled after I hung the flags in there (learning the pledges to both flags and the Bible is on my list of goals for the year) that I decided to let them try out their chairs and play around in some of the wipe clean books I bought off a friend's Usborne Book party. To see how quickly they took to it totally affirmed my intuition that the time to start is now - I've got to strike while the irons of their little minds are blazing hot with a burning desire to learn.
But still, I have NO idea what I'm doing. Or why I'm not leaving this to the experts with actual education degrees.
To help give me vision, Pressley Prep has a very simple two-part mission statement: "To Teach & to Train." The "to teach" part is ripped from Deuteronomy 6:4-9, which says:
"Hear, o Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is ONE. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I combed you today shall be on your heart. You shall TEACH them diligently to your children and shall talk of them when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way and when you lie down and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as fronts between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates."
"To train" comes from Proverbs 22:6:
"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old, he will not depart from it."
Amazingly, Freddie immediately
knew how to hold his pen.
So while I definitely want to educate them in their ABCs and 123s, it's exponentially more important to me that they learn to love the Lord their God with all of their hearts and souls. While it's a priority to train them to be good citizens of this earthly realm, it is my primary goal that they be readied for their role as soldiers in God's army.
"To Teach & to Train," then, encapsulates both endeavors of Pressley Prep - raising earthly children to serve a Heavenly purpose (my beloved friend Brooke is working on an official logo, because, OF COURSE, I have to have monogrammed pullovers for whatever fields trips we may take. Also, the yearbook will need to look official).
So ready or not. Here we go.
Somehow, the stakes seem so much lower when I'm bluffing my way through a lecture on a particular part of theatre history about which I know so little. If I mess up when laying the groundwork for my boys' education, though, woe be unto me.
My goals for this year are simple - I want the boys to learn to recognize their numbers, letters, shapes, and colors. I also want them to learn the pledges of allegiance to the American and Christian flags and to the Bible. If we can accomplish this by this time next year, then I will consider Pressley Prep a success.
If not, Asheville Christian is already on speed dial.
As I promised Jones's hygienist last week, Freddie acted the exact opposite of his brother. He was such a champ. In fact, I think I'M more tense when I go to the dentist than HE was. Today's hygienist (Jalinda?) inspected his teeth, and he laid on the table like he was spread out on a beach.
No fits. No flinching. No fighting.
Hey, Jones. Are you watching this?!
Jalinda confirmed what we'd been told at Freddie's first appointment (in November of 2014; we've been without dental insurance for awhile, thus the lapse in appointments)- that he has something called "enamel hypoplasia."
When we first were told, we thought it just meant discoloration on his two front teeth. Turns out, it's more involved than that. Apparently, when some of his teeth were forming under the gums, they didn't form enamel. Dr. Bill said this is generally because the body is fighting an infection / fever somewhere else in the body when the teeth are forming, so they get less enamel.
The result is discoloration, yes, but it also means the affected teeth are softer and, thereby, more prone to cavities. Thankfully, Freckle doesn't have any cavities - or even any decay - but he does have hypoplasia on a couple more teeth than we originally thought, so he is more likely - though not guaranteed - to have those problems in the future.
When the hygienist noticed it, she thought it might mean a stainless steel crown on the most affected tooth. I immediately bristled - it's a baby tooth, right?! She explained, though, that since it's on a molar, he'll need to keep that tooth until he's about twelve, so the alternative is to fill it to protect it from breaking, but because it's so soft, it'll probably keep breaking, which means refilling it over and over again.
Ugh. It's ALWAYS something, right?!?
She took him for an x-ray to be sure. He walked off with her, like he'd known her all his life, while Jones and I stayed in the exam room. When she came back, she said she'd never seen a kid do as well as he did on X-rays. I'll bet she says that to all the moms, but still ... after my experience with Jones last Tuesday, I'll take any kind of positive feedback that I can get.
So I texted Jeremy and told him the news and sat there waiting for the doctor full of dread about how much a stainless steel crown costs for a two year old. But the news from Dr. Bill (whom Jones calls "Dr. Bail." If I can get it on video, I'm gonna) was all good.
Dr. Bill said that, while he does have some enamel hypoplasia, there is no decay, so there is no need to do anything other than watch it right now. He painted some fluoride on it and sent us on our way.
As I thought about it, though, I wondered if maybe it's genetic. I remember having a filling at a very early age (4 or 5) from Dr. Straup in Anderson. I also remember the filling having to be RE-filled, because it broke off several times. At the time, we assumed the problem was with Dr. Straup (which prompted our eventual switch to Dr. Camak), but now I'm wondering if the problem wasn't with MY having the same enamel-deficiency that I may have passed down to my son?
That'd almost make me feel glad, because it'd mean he got at least SOMETHING from me!
Anyway, I'm thankful that all went well - and that, aside from some shoddy genetics, Freckle's teeth look great.
And while we're talking "great," Jones did GREAT, too. He went with me and played quietly in the corner of the room all through Freddie's exam. When I told him to clean up the toys, he did it quickly and without complaining. He was so good, in fact, that the hygienist gave HIM a treat, too, and this time, unlike when HE was the patient, I let him have the treat, because this time, unlike last, he'd earned it.
Oh, and funnily, the boys got to pick a sticker before they left the exam room. Jones picked a Jake sticker, because it had Bucky (the ship) on it. Freddie, the kid who still says he wants to "be like Zurg" for Halloween, picked a sticker with Captain Hook on it. I love like you cannot imagine that he loves the villains.
As a recovering actor, I remember that those are always the juiciest parts to play, so it thrills me that he gravitates towards the more interesting characters. Of course, I'm ignoring the fact that he seems to be interested in the vilest among his cartoon universe, but still. So cute.
Oh, and when I said to Jones, "Did you know that Dr. Bill was a Tarheel (he played for Dean Smith, which is probably why Jeremy is so insistent that the boys see him)?" Jones said, "He's not a Tarheel! He's a DENTIST!"
1) Today, Jones ran into the playroom carrying a toy he'd gotten in his stocking last Christmas. He thanked me first for unfastening a bulldozer that was chained to his big train, and then he said, "I brought a surprise for you! It's a rocket ship." I immediately ran over to him in the playroom from where I'd been siting in the office. "It's my favorite surprise I've ever gotten!" I gushed. In his best Goofy voice, Jones said, "Awwwwwwww, shucks."
2) I think I mentioned in a post earlier this week that the boys are beginning to run the whole house instead of staying contained in the playroom or den. This has equaled pure MAYHEM at home. This morning, they tried to stretch their borders even further by running a bath without asking.
At first, I told them no bath right now, and then I thought, "Why NOT a bath right now?" So I told them to climb in. Not long after, Jones hit Freddie on the back with his submarine toy. When I asked Jones about it, he said he'd hit him, because he Freddie had a bug on his back that Jones was trying to get off. He then asked, "Are you gonna give me grace?"
Then, Freddie turned the water on, though I'd told him not to. As soon as I saw his face, Freddie looked at me with a giant smile and, for the first time ever, asked, "You gonna give me GRACE?!"
This may be getting out of hand.
Oh, and two things leftover from yesterday.
Nearly a year after we gave him his bicycle on his second birthday, Jones FINALLY rode on it yesterday. He did NOT want to, for some reason - nor has he shown any interest in riding it all year. As I tried to coax him on to it yesterday, he resisted for a long time, telling me, "I'm a John Deere man!" At least, he's loyal.
Then, I told the boys that I was going to the gym when their daddy got home from work. This has become kind of the norm around here (which I hate, because I definitely want us to have that time together as a family, but at the same time, I gotta go when I CAN go, so ...). When he heard it, though, Freddie said, "I wants you. You come home?"
1) Last week, I told the boys that Camden had gotten a job at Chick-fil-A. That was that. We didn't talk about it again.
Well, on Monday of this week, we pulled into an Asheville Chick-fil-A, and Freddie immediately said, "We see DooDoo!" I was astounded at his memory!
Though we didn't SEE DooDoo, we DID get to TALK to DooDoo, who'd just come in from his very first shift when I called to tell Sissy the story.
As he did the time before we went to this drive-through CFA, Jones requested that we park and sit at the picnic tables. No problem at all. When it was time to leave, Jones matter-of-factly said, "Mama, we can come back tomorrow," and I laughed, knowing we mostly would.
2) "Pressley Prep" is not yet in session. We really aren't doing anything formal for awhile, but I AM planning to at least TRY to teach the boys their letters and numbers (and to teach Freddie the colors / shapes that Jones already knows), so after leaving Chick-fil-A on Monday, we went to Office Depot to buy some school supplies and a few decorations to make the playroom look slightly like a classroom.
This morning, I asked the boys if they were excited to start "school" soon, and Freddie said, "We ride a school bus?" I TOLD you he loves those things. Jones responded, "We could use our OWN school bus - your caaaaaaaarrrrrrr!"
3) Finally, this morning, Jones very obviously had to potty, so I sent him to do it. I sat on the stool opposite him on the toilet, and he said, tauntingly, "I'm gonna SPRAAAAAAAAYYYYY you!" Then, after he'd gone, he started to take his aim my way. Luckily, there was no more water in the hose. But still, WHERE DID HE GET THAT IDEA?!?!
(This is another potty comment that I hate but that I know the boys will love, and so I write it down through decorous grimaces).
I'm probably just saying that because, after three days of staying on the wrong side of Mama Law, Jones acted like his old, sweet self again, but that's enough. He even got up from not-napping and sweetly said, "Mama, I need to cuckle you."
Of course, Son.
Like I said, it was a good day.
I'd planned to spend it shaping up the disarray that surrounds me in my house right now, but then Mom called and wanted to meet for lunch. You may not know this about me, but I next-to-never turn down lunch invitations - in fact, I'm meeting a friend tomorrow, too - so off we went.
"Who are you gonna be for Halloween?"
"I be like ZUUUUURRRRGGGGG!"
When I told Jones where we were going, he did this cute little chuckle thing that he does and said, "She's a good girl, and I love her."
When Mom got there, Freddie and I were sitting on one side of the booth, and Jones was opposite us.
She sat down, and about ten seconds later, Freddie shooed me away. He wanted to sit beside Mayme. Mom joked about it making me feel bad - like she and Daddy felt when Sissy and I used to pitch fits when they tried to pull us away from where we'd attached ourselves to Mayme's hip - but no. It didn't bother me at all. In fact, I'm glad he loves his grandparents so much.
They didn't hold hands on their own.
I make them do it whenever
they walk in a parking lot
without me in the middle,
but y'all. Look how cute.
From there, we went to Wal-Mart. Jones has started doing this thing where he doesn't want to hold my hand as much - "I walk all by myself," he'll tell me - but he ends up holding on to my skirt instead. I kind of love it, to be honest, this inventive form of dependent independence that he came up with all on his own.
We got home, and I laid the boys down for later-than-usual naps. I'm not sure if Jones even went to sleep, but I DO know that we had this conversation when I went in to get him up. Oh, and Jones refers to thunder as "Lightnin' McQueen." I have ZERO intention of ever correcting him.
He and I then went into the den. He sweetly said, "I need to cuckle you, Mama," and after the few days we've had together, I was happy to oblige, so we wasted another little while, playing on SnapChat and waiting for Freddie to wake up.
We finally had to pull Brother out of bed. He then joined in the SnapChat fun. All along, I was thinking, "I need to get that load in the washing machine. I need to get the dishes in the sink. Poor Jeremy deserves to come home to a cleaner house than this," but we were having so much fun that I just sloughed it all off and enjoyed my baby boys, guilt-free.
After the Snapping stopped, Jones got his balloon from the dentist's office (I DID let him have THAT, though he most CERTAINLY didn't deserve it) and said to Freddie, "Freddie, grab this, and I can take you for a ride." He then proceeded to drag his brother all around the house. His brother, in turn, took JONES for a ride.
It went every bit as horrifically as I'd imagined it'd would. Scratch that. I think it went even WORSE than I'd imagined it would, because I'd prayed that God would SHOCK me with miraculously good behavior from Jones, so I had a mustard seed-sized faith (and that was all) that He'd come through with something so astonishing only He could do it.
But alas, it was not to be.
I hadn't told Jones where we were going. We just dropped Freddie off at the Pressleys', and I told him he and I were going on a ride. When we walked into the Great Beginnings Waynesville waiting room, he was enamored with the toys - and it's a good thing he was, because we waited FOR FORTY MINUTES.
FORTY.MINUTES.
Thank God Jones is ALSO enamored with SnapChat filters, because we spent a good chunk of that time playing around with them, which was really fun.
When the wonderful hygienist (Brittany) came to take us back, she apologized profusely for the wait, which I appreciated. Soon enough, though, I was the one apologizing to HER, as my three year old acted as I'd imagine he'd do if I'd set his hair on fire or made him take a bath in cubes of ice.
It was horrific. "I'm gonna spank you," he repeatedly told Brittany (and, later, Dr. Bill - his daddy's childhood dentist). Brittany was awesome, though. She was one of a handful of people who could deal with him and not leave me feeling like he wouldn't act that way if I'd just TRY HARDER as a mom (Ashley, his "stylist" at Snip-Its is another).
I will love her forever, as a result.
The news from Great Beginnings was all good, thankfully. Dr. Bill said Jones's teeth are in great shape and, at this point, he doesn't see us heading towards orthodontia in the future.
As we left, I told Jones he couldn't have the surprise they offered, because his behavior didn't warrant it. I also told Brittany that I hope we see her again next Tuesday, as I have a feeling Freddie's appointment will look COMPLETELY differently - and, maybe, her opinion of my parenting will be improved.
Maybe.
Freddie wore his beloved school bus shirt today. Seriously. It's my favorite he's ever owned.
When he came out of the Pressleys' wearing that helmet - BACKWARDS - I couldn't help but wonder "who wore it better?"
Because we got so held up at the dentist's office, we ended up having lunch at the Blach Bear, which I love. I noticed his hair as I sat across from Jones. It reminded me of the poem Mayme always used to tell me: "There was a little girl, who had a little curl right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very good indeed. But when she was bad, she was horrid." I love a little boy about whom the same might be said - though never by Mayme. She'd think Jones was perfection on the grounds of her daddy's name alone.
I had no idea that learning how to pedal was such an ordeal.
Now that he's almost four, I decided it was time for him to get used to it. Since we stored it there, I started making Jones practice on the Radio Flyer every time we'd be at the Pressleys' to ride his tractor. You can imagine, though, how much her preferred John Deere green to Radio Flyer red. He'd do the lap I required, but he didn't do it happily.
Today, I decided to pull out my bike, so I could ride with the boys. They have LOVED this. Jones has been especially curious about the name "Charity." Initially, he told me HIS bike is named Charity, too, but later in the day, he changed it to James ... because, since it's red, he was pretending it was the red train on Thomas, whose name just happens to be ... you guessed it.
