Secret Mission: Hulk and the Impossible Chair

"Here,"  the little blonde boy says to me.  He sticks out a half piece of lined notebook paper torn from his mother's notebook.  There are scribbles in different colored Crayon all over one side, I turn it to see the other.  He has scrawled his name in capital letters, "GUNNER" with seven "N's" written on the bottom.

"I'm leaving," he continues,"this is a letter so you'll remember me."

"Where are you going?"

He looks hard into my eyes as if I couldn't understand even if he told me.

"You won't understand."

He does an about-face in the hallway and goose steps to the kitchen counter, sighing at the unknown mission ahead of him.  Mumbling to himself, but purposefully loud enough so that I can hear him he says,

"I've got so much to do.  I still have to write a letter to my Mom and Emery," the chunky house dog interrupts his sentence with a loud snort, he looks down at her and then back to his papers, slapping his forehead in dismay, "I knew I was forgetting someone."

I watch him work.  He is enveloped in writing these notes of departure using the care of a surgeon to make each line precisely the way it needs to be with exactly the color it was meant to be written with.  First the scribbles on one side which are by no means anarchistic, but instead a chaotic display of proper placement. Then, in a flash he flips the paper over.  G, new color, U, new color, N, new color in a pattern until his name is spelled out and all the extra N's are in place.


"So,"  I say, " where are you going?  You can tell me.  I have a security clearance."

His head shoots up, his forehead wrinkles as he tries to decipher my angle.

"What's a clearance?"

"It means I can know secret stuff."

Gunner is not satisfied with my explanation.

"Super.  Secret.  Stuff."

He eases a bit, sets down his blue Crayon gently and takes a long sip of juice from his Justice League cup. Young Justice he calls it.

"Okay," he says, "you can know, but first you gotta promise."

"Anything,"  I say, "consider it promised."

"You gotta promise if I don't come back you'll take care of Nickel and my Mom."

"Absolutely."

I move in close, slowly.  Carefully.  I slide into the seat next to him and offer a gummy worm to win his favor. He accepts and chews it delighted.

"Mmm.  I love green worms.  They taste so," he says, "green."

I can't help but laugh and he does too.  He grabs my arm in a second, though.

"Wait, this is serious,"  he grabs my face and holds me still to prepare for the graveness of the situation, "There's zombies out there, Emery told me about them.  They're going to come in here if someone doesn't stop them."

It is torture to fight laughing this hard.


"So I have to leave.  That's what the letter says.  Keep it forever and tell my Mom to keep it forever, too."

"I will, Bunny,"  I say. "But don't you need a weapon or something."

In a blink he rips off his shirt and leaps down from his chair, smashing the floor with both fists.

"I am a weapon!"  he says.

Penny snorts and jumps up, "running" away from the kitchen and back to my bedroom where she hides wrapped among her quilt in what I can only imagine is primal fear of the four year old superhuman she shares a house with.  Gunner's face grimaces as he breaths in and out deeply through clenched teeth.

"Someone's got to stop the zombies," he growls, "someone like the Hulk."


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In other, non-zombie related news Elsa's room is finished!  I will upload the pictures tomorrow, the boys were helpful.  Overall, I am really pretty proud of how it turned out.  Abby did a really great job putting the final touches on the decorations and we got everything put together and moved into it.  Except the damn glider, of course.

We bought it on clearance way, way back like when we first found out about being pregnant and it did not come with bolts or instructions.  Since I nor her are proficient in French, the customer service and website were no help.  I've scoured the interwebs far and wide for a solution, but to no avail.  I took it to Decatur Bolt last week and thought I had a breakthrough, but turns out I was wrong.  If anyone knows magic we'd sure appreciate our chair being mystified back together.

Good night!

From the Mouth of Em

Emery discussed his future business plans today while we waited in line at the Wendy's drive-thru.  I needed to share them.  (Emery is italicized and I am bold, for clarity.  Enjoy!)

"You know what would be better, Dad?  Faster food where they don't forget your toy all the time."

He paused for a second.  I could hear the wheels spinning in his head.

"I should just open my own restaurant, you know?"

"Yeah," I said, "What're you gonna call it?"

"Fancy, Fast."

"That's a pretty good name, says what people wanna hear."

"Oh no," he said, "It's not what they wanna hear, it's what they'll have.  I'll make my workers go through tough training.  And you know what happens if they're late three times?"

"What?"

"Gone.  Outta there.  You know what happens if they forget a toy or they mess up your food?"

"Fired?  After one time?"  I asked, "That's a little harsh."

"Pssh, not if you wanna work at 'Fancy, Fast.'  I have to be the best so McDonald's and Wendy's can't be around my restaurant."

"Aren't you my little capitalist?"

He was obviously confused.

"What?  Does that mean I'm gonna have the best restaurant?  Then yes, I'll be a capitless.  Will you come work for me, Dad?  I'll pay you twenty bucks, two times.  And you can have free lunch."

"Ha, ha, sure, buddy.  I'll work for you."

"Awesome!"  he became very serious before he said, 

"Don't be late."

Good night!  

What a Heart Looks Like on the Outside (Part III): Abby Marie

Babydoll-


Today is your day.

It is the second birthday of yours that I have had the luck to spend with you.  Whatever I have to thank for this time with you, I can't sing it's praises enough.


The definition of "magnificent" is impressively beautiful and striking.  I can't think of a better word to describe you.  Even now over a year into "us" I see you walk into the room and I am struck by your beauty.  I am still in awe of you.

You are my partner, something I never believed could exist outside of blood ties.  I am more "me" with you than I've ever been at any time in my life.  We talk nightly for hours about everything, anything, and nothing and that's exactly what I want to do because I'm doing it with you.  Your smile illuminates my world, your eyes lock mine into place and I feel at home.



I could (and am) write stories everyday about the way you make me feel.  Together there is no wall unbreakable, no obstacles immovable, and no way either of us will ever have to do anything alone ever again.

The road we took to get here was unorthodox to say the least, but Montagues were murderously embittered by Capulets yet Romeo found Juliet.  Throughout time the greatest romances sprang from unlikely places and sadly some do not ever find what I feel with you.  You're my June Carter.  My best friend.




All of my life I always felt I was looking for something.  Something better.  Something somewhere else.  I'd been around the world twice, yet I came back here still searching.  I began to believe searching was just what I did, what I was supposed to do.  Then, we found each other.

I'm not searching anymore.  I'm living.

Happy birthday, baby.  You are my partner.  My best friend and support.  My other half.  My infinite.  My heart.  I love you.

Forever yours,

-Me

Back At It

Whew!

It's been one heck of a crazy busy week.  I've finally got some down time to write tonight.  The Decatur Celebration was going on downtown this past week and Abby spent a crazy amount of time working.  If you don't know her and I only have one car. When she works from the morning (9-11 AM) until closing time I am limited in where I can get around to during those days since I live between two very busy roads and have at least one small child trekking with me at all times.

On top of that, Abby's birthday is today.  I have an insatiable love for surprising people.  I plan meticulously and spread myself as thin as possible to ensure the recipient of my gift(s) is genuinely astonished.  My big present was to paint and decorate Elsa's room in total secrecy through the week even though my artistic talent resembles that of a snail and I've never painted a room before.

Oh. . .and Bunny physically cannot keep a secret.  Emery is a little better, but he really fancies being the "cool-in-the-know" dude so he may keep your secret for a little bit before he sneaks over to whisper it to Bunny.  When I say that Bunny cannot physically keep a secret, I mean he looks as if his insides are writhing in anxiety because he has the launch codes to start World War III when all you asked him to do was not tell Emery that I took a sip of his chocolate milk.  The truth sets Bunny free.

I'm not really complaining.  I'm glad it's not the other way around for the most part, but when you only have six hours out of the house in a week that you have to get paint, brushes, tape, decals, etc. it makes for an incredible inconvenience.  Explaining to a four year old that he can't enter a room, but not being able to say why is confusing.

  

"What is goin' on in Elsa's room?"  Bunny asked.

"Oh, nothing."

"But I hear you in there when I'm layin' down.  And something is stinky."

"Oh, you know.  Spiders."

"Spiders?"  He started to push the door open.  I quickly pulled it shut.

"Big ones.  They stink."  I said.

"We should tell my Mom."  He pointed up in the air and jumped like an overreactive detective solving a riddle.

"No, no.  We shouldn't do that.  She'll be too scared.  She needs to rest when she's home, it's a busy week this week, buddy."

"Hmm," he very clearly disapproved of my approach in dealing with imaginary, giant arachnids,"ooooh-kay."

I caught him a few times laying on the hall floor, peaking under the door, heckling the imaginary pests.  At some point he got brave and went in Elsa's room unbeknownst to me and witnessed all of what I'd been doing.  On Friday night as I put him to bed he was holding his ribs and very restless.  He needed to tell me something important.

"I told Mommy about Elsa's room."  He confessed.

"You did?"

"I'm sorry.  I was in there and I told her 'come look, Mom.'  It was an accident."

I promised I wasn't mad and kissed him good night.  At that point, I'd only accomplished getting part of one wall and some trim around the door done.  I would be lying if I said I wasn't very disappointed, but after a cup of coffee and some hard studying, I took it as a challenge.  Now I would surprise both of them.

Saturday night we had a bit of a scare.  Abby had pretty tough contractions and we went to the hospital immediately after she got off of work.  We were up there until about 4 AM.  Thankfully nothing was wrong, she was a combination of overworked and dehydrated and so we were sent home.  I told her that I knew she had already seen Elsa's room.  Unfortunately, she had not.  She said that Gunner had begged her to come in and look, but she wouldn't.  I felt like a jackass.  

Elsa's wall before.

After returning home I took her in the room and showed her.  Her tired eyes lit up and she loved it.  Part one of my mission was accomplished.

The next morning I stood in the living room and listened to Bunny sneak in.

Elsa's wall after!

"WHOA!"

He sprinted out to me, bewildered.

"Did you know that a tree grew on Elsa's wall?!"

Good night!

Keep Your Guard Up

Last night Emery and I sat on the porch, watching two little brown bats fly above our house.  They swooped and glided for half an hour or more.

"Do you think they are the big ones that drink blood, dad?"  he asked.

"Nope, not those.  Those guys up there just eat bugs."

He thought for a second, looking a little disappointed.

"Well, can we go live by the big ones someday?"

"Not me, they live down south around Mexico."  I said.

"Let's move to Mexico."

"It's too hot for me there, if I move anywhere it'll be farther north.  But if you grow up and move somewhere hot I'll definitely come visit some times.  Mexico, you think?"

He grinned.

"No.  You know where I'm going to live, dad?"  his eyes were amused, "guess.  You know where it is."

"I have no idea, Florida?  Chicago?"

"Sesame Street.  Can you tell me how?"

"Tell you how?"  I asked.  My question was genuine, I'd walked right into it.

"How to get to Sesame Street!"  He jumped up and down, laughing.  I'd just been punked by my six year old.

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Gunner has been trying to scare everyone in the house for the past two weeks.  Thank goodness he has cut down on his attempts lately because he would just lay down in the middle of the floor and cover his eyes and then roar with all of his might, even though you were talking to him as he laid down and put his hands over his eyes.  Today however, he finally got me good.  We had been play-fighting for a while in the afternoon, but it was time to stop because Mommy was going to be home soon so we had to pick up the mess from our household battle.

I sent him to his room with the toys that he'd brought out to the living room and told him to change out of his Robin outfit and he skipped back into the room.  Remarkably happy for a four year old being directed to clean up his room and cease being a superhero for the day, but I'm not one to pass up on a blessing when I get one so I took advantage and folded laundry before I had to worry about him asking to wear every shirt he saw.

About the time I got to the second to last article of clothing I noticed Bunny hadn't been back out to tell me that he was done so I looked down the hall.  I could tell from my vantage point that he had cleaned already, but when I called his name he didn't answer.  When we first moved in to this house, Bunny realized that with the windows being so low in his room if they were open he could slide out of the hole in the middle window screen and land in the driveway.  That thought crossed my mind immediately and my pace picked up as I walked back there.

Bunny is really bad at hiding.  When he hides he giggles if he is actually hiding all the way, but most of the time he is only hiding his upper half.  I heard nothing.  I began to panic, looking in the closet, under the bed and then through the window.  I double checked, then triple checked.  No sign of him.

I started to head back toward the living room, when a blur flanked me from the right side.

"RAAAAAWR!"  he jumped out onto me from their bathroom.

I leapt into the hallway wall, "Jesus Christ!"

He laughed so hard I thought he was going to pass out, rolling on the floor, pointing at me.

"Ha ha ha!  I got you!  Ha ha ha!  I scared you, scaredy cat!  Ha ha ha!"

You know that baby laugh that kids resort to when they can not control their reaction?  I'd just been scared witless by a four year old.

You can never let your guard down around here. 

Except for Penny.  Good night!

Infamous Floss Incident

How I love productive days, the past couple have been extremely so.  We got the washer and dryer hooked up in our house finally, so no more willing laundromat robbery for this family.  A special thank you to Dina, Jason, and Nic for helping out with the dryer hook-up, seeing as I'm a newbie when it comes to gas fueled appliances.

My mom came up for a visit today and stayed for dinner.  She brought my sister's kids (Liam and Lilly) with her, always a wonderful time to see them.  The boys took care of Liam so well.  My heart melted watching them play with him, love on him, and feed him.  They are both excited to be big brothers, yet I have to admit my worries were that Bunny and Emery may not be able to adjust to a little baby so well.

Bad days will happen, of course, but to watch Bunny's adoration and gentle side come so natural around a baby is remarkable.  Emery, upon seeing that Liam was here, wanted to hold and feed him, the boys were incredibly patient with both.  I know in my heart that they will be fabulous older siblings, but witnessing the boys do boy things causes my knowledge to be overcome with dread at times.

A time like the one we have affectionately referred to as the "Floss Incident." The infamous day so ridiculous it has an official title.

Abby nudged me awake early in the morning and said that she could hear the boys sounding ornery in the living room, after a few more, harder nudges I rolled out of bed and walked to the door.  I opened it and looked down, I had to rub my eyes really hard a few times to make sure that I was seeing correctly.  Yep.

That was floss suspended across the bottom of my doorway at about shin height.

Not just a single string though.  Six.  Maybe eight.  I looked left into the boys room where the strands seemed to originate from.  Following the minty trail I discovered that the floss did not start in their room, it was wrapped, wrapped, and wrapped some more across each of their beds.  So I doubled back through the hallway to see where the floss went.

At this point, Abby, probably hearing the "Oh my goodnesses" and "Holy shits" I was muttering, called out to me.

"Honey?" she said, "honey, what's wrong?"

"I. . .I," there were no real words coming out of my mouth, only stunned consonants,"you've gotta. . . Jesus Christ. . ."

The living room looked like Spiderman had a seizure on a merry-go-round.  Over a hundred and fifty yards of dental floss tied and twisted over, under, through, and around each piece of furniture from wall to wall.  The culprits, standing in the underwear in the middle of their creation, held each other staring at us.  For an infinite second nothing could be said.  We stared at them.  They stared at us.

We're not friends anymore, Peter Parker.

I had horrific visions of my childhood; making soda pop grenades with my brothers and cousins, surfing down the stairs, destroying steel chairs and then "hiding" them up in trees, skating in the house, holding Royal Rumbles for the championship in our living room before mom got home from work.  I saw all of those things and more.  And then my real life vision came back.

I saw payback, in all of its light green, waxy, mint-flavored glory turning our apartment into a maze of string. I felt a bite.  On my ass.  It was karma.

Sorry, mom.

Anyone reading this that has multiple children I would love to hear how your children adapted to a newborn if you feel like sharing in the comments section.  I think if you don't have a Google+ account there is a little drop box that you can choose the "Anonymous" user to be able to write something.

Good night!

Books, Books, and Paper People

It's been a few days.  A busy few days, strange how they creep up on you sometimes.  Abby had to work long hours over the weekend, I don't know how she does it, but she is certainly one of a kind.  I'm very lucky.  Being as we only have one car, my options with the kids become limited to walking distance when she has to pull shifts like that and as my fellow Illinoisans know this past weekend was a scorcher on Friday and Saturday.

We stayed very busy, though. Friday the boys helped me compile a Big Brother photo book for Elsa's arrival and as a gift for Mommy. First I picked about thirty pictures and then had Gunner choose the twenty or so that would make it into the book.  I arranged them and then Emery helped me write all the words throughout the book.  They both thought it would be awesome to help write a book for their baby sister so that they could help read it to her at bedtime, their pride in the finished product shone through in their smiles when they finally saw it.

Saturday we worked on books some more.  I bought a bunch of construction paper, a binder, and some markers and the boys decided they wanted to draw holiday pictures for Abby.  Watching their minds work is a miracle in itself.  My original idea was for them to draw their Eelooz people again.  Eelooz is an app I found for Emery a few months ago that a guy made for his daughter.  It is essentially a bare minimum version of a Giga-Pet that were so popular forever ago, I thought the idea was pretty cool, so when we lived at the apartment we made Eelooz people together.

I think I included some pictures of the Eelooz before, but I'll repost them on this blog when I find them.  The boys really loved doing it, they made their own little people and houses for them. They made places for their Eelooz to visit like an Eelooz park, lake, school and we tacked them up to the dining room wall.  The houses started out as just one piece of construction paper for each of them that they were allowed to design their own furnishings on.  It was tremendously fun to watch Bunny tell me why his SuperEeloozMan needed a rope in the middle of his living room (because he needs to swing into action, duh!) and Emery's meticulous detail to GirlieLooz's wardrobe closet which featured superhero costumes, dresses, boots, and swords sticking out of the door.

The Eelooz idea worked really well as a reward for good behavior, too.  The boys would do extra chores just to be able to add another room to their houses, before long they had eight papers per house, three places to visit, Eelooz pets, and an Eelooz operating table (Bunny was a little rough to his first SuperEeloozMan, so Dr. Eelooz had to tape his leg back on a couple of times).

Quick funny story about this picture:

Abby, Bunny, and I went on a walk the other day and ended up at my brothers house.  We stopped by to chat for a bit and to take a breather on account of the heat.  As we began to leave, Bunny did the "squeeze-the-crotch" potty dance, telling us that he needed to go to the bathroom.  The walk is a decent stroll for a four year old, but impossible for a four year old with a full bladder, however we were kind of in a hurry, as it was nearing dinner time.  Bunny looked as if he were going to pop any second so we just told him to go around the corner and go potty.  Which brings us to this:

Yep.

Public pooping.

Bunny's explanation was simple, "you said go potty, so I went potty."

And with that, I bid you farewell. 

Good night!