a not-so-happy Fourth of July

I completely love this picture, but it is a TOTAL misrepresentation of the
morning that'd preceded its taking. Jones was whimpering and squirming,
until Daddy started dancing a jig across the front porch to get him to smile.
Thank you, T-Dogg. Mission accomplished.

Next to my birthday, the Fourth of July is my favorite day of the year. This goes back to some very idyllic Fourths gone by; however, this Fourth wasn't nearly as spectacular. It'd been a WHINY, whiny week for the Pressley boys. I'd hoped that, somehow, they'd realize how much their mama loves this once-a-year occasion and get their acts together for the day.

They didn't.

Back story: all week, Jones whimpered like a wet puppy, while Freddie started to practice the fine art of pitching a fit. This is uncharacteristic for both of them, which made it all the more frustrating for me. A perfect example came Friday morning when Lila and I took the boys to buy Mom a birthday present. I told Jones to hold Lila's hand, so I could carry Freddie.

My Son the Elder would have NONE of it. He screamed; he whined; he demanded, "NO!" to doing as he was told to do. "I hode YOU, Mama," he insisted. When he refused to change his ways after being corrected multiple times, I refused to give him his way and carry him into the store. So we left, and Mom STILL doesn't have a birthday present from me (sorry, Mom; blame Jones).

On the Fourth, Mom, Daddy, Jeremy, and I took the boys to the Miniature World of Trains in downtown Greenville. While the boys were as excited by the trains as I'd thought they'd be, they were not nearly as sweetly dispositioned as I'd HOPED they'd be. As we left, I told Jeremy, "This makes me never want to take them anywhere, ever again. It's just MISERABLE."

After their naps, then came the cousins, and all was right with the world ... until we went swimming. Jones was good for the first twenty minutes, and then the whining resumed.

And then I had to fight the urge to bury myself in a box in the farthest recesses of some remote dungeon and spent the rest of my days hugging my knees to my chest while rocking back and forth like a man insane. Because that's what whining makes me: INSANE.

I'll tell you this: I'd rather deal with a fit than whining ANY day of the week. Fits are quick and easy to contain (or, if you put them in their cribs to calm down, ignore). Whining, however, you just have to endure. They're not really breaking any rules; they're just being annoying, and you can't punish anyone for THAT (at least not when they're, like Jones, too young to understand). That's why I've been so thankful that my boys haven't really done it up to now.

This week, though, Jones has made up for lost time.

My hope and prayer is that, by this time next week, we are celebrating our FREEDOM from this nasty habit.

Freddie's saying, "CHOO CHOO!"

I'm trying to be really intentional about getting
pictures of just Jeremy and me. My hair is
definitely looking worse for the wear,
but at least, it's proves that Jeremy and I were there, too!

totally love this picture; Freddie's now obsessed
with wearing shades, just as Jones was when he
was about Freddie's age. 

Every now and then, Freddie will randomly say, "SeaSea,"
and then he'll say, "BoBo." Don't tell anyone else this,
but I think BoBo may be his favorite person alive. 

While we were in the pool, this group of four
World War Two era planes flew overhead.
That's what they're watching here.
It was absolutely awesome.

Is #fromthecuttingroomfloor still a thing on Instagram?
If so, here's my latest entry. The boys are either
practicing their synchronized swimming routine
or, more likely, watching the WWII planes fly by.

Though we got dressed and headed to church,
we had to skip the service, because we noticed a huge rash
had broken out on Jones's chin. Freddie had the same thing
show up a week earlier. Rather than infect all of the
other two year olds, we just skipped church altogether.

What is more American than a coupla
brothers "driving" their Pop's
Chevy truck?

We went to downtown Canton
for its holiday celebration on the evening
of the 5th. While there wasn't much to see
there, I did get to give Freddie a ride
during our short stay.

Lake Chatuge, Take Two

Here are some quick hits from our July 4th weekend at Lake Chatuge:

Jones likes brisket. A lot. So much so that I think he may become a rancher when he grows up, just so he can have easier access to that cut of beef. I hope he does. I'd like some easier access myself.

Jones likes to drive the boat as much as he likes to eat brisket. During the weekend, he started running a fever and was all "Mama, Mama, Mama," as a result. And then we got on the boat, and, suddenly, we couldn't keep him off his Pop's lap in the Captain's Chair.

Jones got sicker than he's ever been before. It started Saturday nite with a slight fever. He was still eating fine and acting normally then. Sunday, though, the fever was higher, and that nite, he was up from 2-5 AM, which he has NEVER done, not one time in his entire life. Even as a newborn, he'd wake up, eat, and go right back to sleep. THAT to say, Big Brother did NOT feel well at all.  He and I sat on the front porch in those wee small hours, enjoying one of the most beautiful little corners of God's great creation. Our long stretches of silence were interrupted by infrequent discussions about the sounds that certain animals make (Cows, for instance, say, "OOOOOOhhhhhh;" cars - for our purposes that nite, also an animal - say either "beep! beep!" or "vroom!" depending on the mood Jones is in).  Monday morning, his temperature hit a lifetime high of just over 103. I called the doctor's office and was told by the nurse that a "fever virus" is going around. Since he had no other symptoms, she assumed this was the culprit. Where he got it, I don't know, but I'm thankful he's since gotten rid of it and pray that Brother doesn't get it, too. Mama needs some SLEEP!

Freddie can handle his bulky life vest a whole lot more happily if he has his pacifier in his mouth.

Much as they both like being ON the water, neither Jones nor Freddie were fond AT ALL of being IN the water. Think "wailing and gnashing of teeth."

Jones watched the same "Goofy" DVD about 9,345 times this weekend, thanks to an awesome little Cars television set, handed down from cousins Ellery and Evan. 

Jones calls both my mom AND Jeremy's "Mayme," which is weird, because we call Jeremy's mom "Nan" and always have. What's funny is how he, somehow, seems to know that they're both the same in terms of their relationship to him, thus warranting the same name? Or so I guess. That both of his grandfathers are called "Pop" can't help to clarify the situation for him.

Jones and Freddie do NOT sleep well when they are in the same room together. I may have to rethink my long-term plan of having them share a room. They can sleep like logs through the gunfire-like cacophony of July 4th fireworks, but when one of them starts jabbering at 5:30 in the morning, the other bolts up like a whack-a-mole. What wakes them up so early out there?!?  Typically, they'll catnap for an hour or so before I let them get up 30 minutes earlier than usual, but in the meantime, they've awakened the entire house. I'm fully expecting our visiting privileges to be revoked at any moment!