Kinder Creeper

So Connor has just completed his first six weeks of Kindergarten and he loves it.  I mean, he really loves it.  Which is a good thing. There are a couple of things that have come up though, that have me slightly concerned.  But only a couple, so I think that we're doing pretty well. 

My first concern is the weirdness level that Connor is exhibiting at school.  I know he has to be himself, but if I could control things (which I obviously cannot) I would like to keep the weirdness level down to about 30 percent.  From the stories he is telling me, I am afraid we are maxing out at about 75 percent.  That's a lot of weird.  For example, a couple of weeks ago there was a substitute in his class while his teacher went to a prearranged meeting.  That afternoon, I asked how it went.  Before I go into the detailed story, let me just give you the bottom line.....it went weird.  Connor first informed me that he was disappointed in his substitute because, although he was very nice, he didn't actually teach him anything.  Hmm. Connor has a very literal definition of what learning looks like and it doesn't usually fit the traditional kindergarten model, so this didn't surprise me. We've been addressing this issue all school year.   He said, "Mommy, he didn't even speak Spanish to me so since I wasn't learning anything new I decided to observe him."  Um, what?  He went on, "He was a tallish man with no hair on top,but sand colored hair on the sides and he smelled like a grandpa.  He had on black pants, brown shoes and a grey or green shirt.  I'm not sure which one because you know I'm color blind Mommy."  Wait, there's more.  "He also had on a black belt, black socks and a striped tie.  The tie was my favorite part and I spent a lot of time on that when I was drawing him."
Hold the phone!  I asked what he meant by, "drawing him" and he said, "Mom, I have to write down my observations so I drew and colored the substitute and it took me a long time because I had to keep stopping to watch him."   Okay, the needle on the weirdness meter just shot up to the red zone.  I am now picturing this poor substitute teacher who probably was someone's sweet old grandpa in a room full of kindergartners being obviously watched by a super creepy tall kid with overly intense eyes.  Short of a career as a police sketch artist, I don't think this type of behavior is going to serve him well in life.  And here is the best part, when I asked him what happened to this drawing he said, "I left it on Ms. Garcia's desk so she could see what he looked like when she comes back from her meeting."  Oh fantastic, instead of bringing the weirdness home where we could bury it in the giant manila envelope titled, "Connor-Kinder-1st six weeks"  we left it on display for not only his regular teacher, but also that poor sub to see.  I feel like we are already behind the eight ball a little as the five year old who keeps a daily calendar in which he records the lesson objectives and then checks them off after he has reviewed them at home, I'm just not sure what adding the title, "Substitute Profiler" is going to do to his street cred. 

So moving on from my concerns about public weirdness to my concerns about his citizenship (the behavior type, not the origin of birth type).  Connor ended the entire first six weeks on green.  If you are unfamiliar with his particular kindergarten color code of behavior, green is the best you can get.  I should feel elated that my child is behaving himself but instead I have overthought it to the extreme.  What an unusual feeling for me :)  What has me worried is that Connor has now proclaimed that he will spend the entire year on green.  He is really into the personal goal setting and this one is a big one. Come on, that just isn't realistic.  I know he is messing up at school, he just isn't getting caught  or his teacher is being too nice. I live with the kid, I know he isn't perfect!  But he has this enormous expectation for himself that I think is entirely unreasonable and that is my problem. I expect my children to be well behaved, sometimes they are and sometimes they aren't.  But I don't ever want my kids to think that their parents expect them to be perfect.  We don't have that expectation, but HE does. The longer the green streak goes on, the more disappointed I think he is going to feel when the time comes to change his color. And trust me people, that time is coming.  It's life!  I am starting to feel like we are walking around with this giant green cloud hanging over us and I just want to get the inevitable over with so we can talk about it and move on. Normally when I overthink and obsess about things, Matt is always the voice of reason, but I would like to announce that this time he is in agreement with me!  This is definitely "a moment" in our marriage.  We were filling out paperwork to schedule our first parent teacher conference in a couple of weeks and as we were checking the calendar for potential times, Matt looked at me and said, "Listen, when we go to this, I don't want to sit there and listen for 15 minutes about how perfect and wonderful he is, I want her to tell us some stuff that he needs to be working on at home."  Oh how I love that man.  But now I have to think of a way to word a potentially awkward email in which my message needs to be, "Dear Ms. Garcia, thanks for teaching our kid, please spare us the niceties and tell us all the things he has been doing wrong so we have something to address at home. Think really hard about it and don't hold back. Okay, we're ready. Go."
I'm betting if that teacher doesn't have a personal Hill Family Weirdness meter by now, she will by the time that conference is over!         

El Presidente

The other day Connor woke up with a lot on his mind, specifically the state of our government. Not really, but he had lots of questions about how one gets to be President of this great country. He asked me lots of questions ranging from my thoughts on George Washington to the voting process. It was kind of exhausting.

Keeping in mind that he is still only five, I tried to sum up the basics of the electoral process as best I could, knowing though, that if I dumbed it down too much, he could very easily call me out on it and I would end up looking stupid. I skimmed over the electoral college, because let's face it, even as an adult that still kind of confuses me, and frankly, he is about two episodes of The Daily Show away from being politically smarter than either one of his parents, so I just can't chance it. He was fascinated by the process of voting. After I explained how it works, he sat for a few minutes quietly processing. I have learned after a few years of conversations with my oddly bright child that during this quiet time I have to go against my natural instinct to fill the silence with more words and just let him do his thing. After thinking it through he said, "So let me get this straight, to vote you go to a place like the library and then you go in a room and pick who you want to be president. Then you come out and yell, 'I choose Connor! I want Connor Hill!'" Then all the spectators would clap.

Okay........ so not exactly. And somewhere along the way our conversation veered from how does "one" become president to how does "Connor" become president. He had obviously put more consideration into this than I had originally thought. I told him there were a lot more specifics to the process than I had told him originally but he had the general idea. I asked him what kind of president he thought he wanted to be and he said, "Well, kind of like George Washington but a lot better." Well that is a start, I guess. He told me that he has some big plans for his presidency such as helping people not just get jobs but get jobs that they like. Then he is going to make sure that all kids get to go to schools (a sad fact that bothers him endlessly) and he hopes that they get teachers like his mommy so that everyone will love school as much as he does.  That really melted this mother of the fake president's heart.  He also wants everyone to like the color red and get to wear whatever they want to school.  That feels a little left wing to me :)  Then he told me the thing he was most excited about was giving speeches. 

Ah, the speeches. 

Thanks to a particular moment on the morning announcements at school, he has decided that he would like to devote a large portion of his life to speech giving.  The topics vary.  We have heard orations on everything from the importance of always trying your best to the most efficient way to double knot shoe laces.  His target audience is always his brother, who honestly does not have the patience to listen to Connor expound on the eternal debate of white milk (Good for your bones and not very much sugar) and chocolate milk (A lot more sugar but makes your stomach so happy).  Having Hud as the audience is probably good practice for a future political career since it is forcing Connor to get used to heckling. 

He went to his room to think some more about his presidency.  I took the opportunity to pray that my child will eventually choose a less smarmy career.  A little while later he came down with his latest list of plans.  He had some words he wanted me to translate into Spanish because he will apparently be running on some sort of bilingual platform.  Then he also told me that Hudson needed to get dressed up (preferably in a vest) because he was going to be his helper.  It was going to be Hudson's job to hold his papers while he gave speeches and play the music.  His campaign song?  "Life is a Highway." I mean, really, what else could it be?

Later on when Dad got home we were retelling the events of the day and filling him in on the plan.  He listened to it all and then looked at me and said, "Good grief Melissa, this must be what the Kennedys felt like.  Let's give Jack and Bobby a bath and then we'll watch the Rangers." 

I wonder if Rose Kennedy understood the electoral college. Probably.

Grey Hair #1327

Rarely does an incident happen in our house where I instantly think, "This is blog worthy." Usually I need a few days  or maybe even a week of distance to really see a situation for how horrifying it truly was, but not last night.  Oh no, last night was so ridiculous, no amount of distance is going to help clarify my perspective.  Here is what happened.

Matt had to work late so the kids and I were on our own.  We decided to meet up with some of our friends at our favorite Mexican restaurant.  It sounded like fun, plus I didn't have to cook.  It was essentially a perfect plan.  But you know what they say about the best laid plans....they end up in public humiliation.  So anyway, we have been to this restaurant at least a 100 times, so of course my children feel extremely comfortable there and strut around like they own the place.  Whatever, I was still in my happy place because I got to see friends and eat food I didn't cook!  We arrived early and were shown to our table.  We had been seated for exactly .37 seconds when Hud announced in an extrememly loud, peircing voice that he had, "to go tee tee!  BAD!!"  Okay, off we all went to the restrooms.  As we approached, I turned around to make sure Connor was following and in that split second, Hud raced into the men's restroom.  Oh! No, no, no!  Immediately, I felt a twinge of panic.  Here we were, fatherless and now my three year old had just raced into a very busy men's bathroom unattended.  I turned to Connor and said, "Get in there and get your brother."  This stressed him because it was in direct conflict with our usual bathroom policy :No one goes in alone and if anyone ever says a word to you in a restroom, you run out screaming. No exceptions.  Is that policy a little extreme?  I think not. 

Faced with this task, Connor literally squared his shoulders and pushed his way in to "rescue" his brother while I hovered like at the door like some kind of pervert, averting my eyes everytime it swung open.  As I said,there was a lot of foot traffic in and out and each time the door opened I could hear bits and pieces of the battle royale unfolding inside.  Here is a little sample,
"Hudson!  Unlock this door right now!  We can't be in here alone with men!"

"Leave alone Connor! I tee tee in this potty now!"

Then, "Don't make me come in there Hudson!"   Oh sweet Lord!

At this point, I am coming up with plan B to retrieve them because I am now visualizing Hudson's usual potty routine.  When H uses a kid potty he is golden, but in order to balance himself on an adult size toilet he has to pretty much do the splits to stay balanced or he falls completely in.  In order to do splits worthy of Cirque del Soleil he must remove both his pants and underwear.  So now I know that in a stall in that restroom is my youngest child at least partially naked, possibly fully naked, if he could manage it and the mood struck.  Maybe now is the proper time to mention that he was also wearing his Super H cape.  I just want you to get the full visual.  All of a sudden the door swung open and an elderly man came out and asked, "Are those your boys in there?"  I wanted to say, "No, why?"  but instead lowered my head slightly and said, "Yes sir."  He looked at me for a second and said, "I'm going to tell you a story about what is going on in there, but only if you promise that you won't fuss at them when they come out."  Are you kidding me?  There is going to be a heck of a lot more than "fussing" going on when those two rapscallions emerge from that restroom.  But I couldn't say that because he seemed really sweet, so I simply said, "I promise sir. Just tell me."

He recapped the part I had heard where Connor threatened to "come in there" and then as he was washing his hands saw Hudson throw his cape under the stall and command, "Hold this Connor."  Connor, taking that as some sort of sign, donned the cape and crawled under the stall.  There was a a lot of scuffling and after a long moment and half a dozen toilet flushes, they emerged together.  Hudson was once again wearing the cape.  At this point in his retelling, the man says, "I was already done washing my hands but I really just wanted to see what they would do next."  He said they came and stood next to him at the sink and Connor hoisted him up to the sink, the whole time lecturing on how they were not allowed to be in there and if any "men talk to us we have to run out of here screaming Hudson, do you understand me?"  Connor washed his hands, then Hudson's and then smoothed his brother's hair down with water and was in the process of drying both their hands and Hudson's hair with the hot air dryer when the man decided to come out and relay what he witnessed.  Sure enough, towards the end of the story, out came my two children no worse for the wear but looking guilty as heck.  Well strike that, Connor looked guilty, Hudson looked bored.  We started walking back towards the tables with this really sweet old man and he said, "I have to tell you that was the funniest damn thing I have seen in a long time and those are two of these sweetest brothers I've ever come across.  I wanted to tell them I thought they did a good job in there, but I didn't want them to run out screaming.  Now you remember what you promised me.  No fussing."  

Well I guess if he is going to put it that way.....maybe it was a little funny.  Especially since Hudson's shorts and underwear were both still on backwards.

And Matt wonders why I am going grey.   

Connor Started Kindergarten and the World Didn't End!

Okay, this is going to be a long and possibly nonsensical post. It has taken me a week to sort out my myriad of emotions and I think I can finally talk about something that I have been secretly dreading for a while now....Connor started kindergarten. As a general rule, I don't consider myself to be overly sentimental. I'm not a cryer and I can usually keep my emotions in check. At least I thought so. Having never sent a child into the scary world of public education, I had no idea how hard it would be!

Connor was ready. In fact, he was ready approximately 726 days ago. He has been thinking about, talking about and praying about school for pretty much as long as he could talk. Sometimes it is pretty obvious that people are born for certain things, for example I was born to become a ginormous fan of the Bravo channel. Connor was born for school. To my little boy, starting kindergarten was like coming home. While it was natural and easy for him, I was personally a nervous wreck. I could never fathom the depths of fear, uneasiness and worry that I felt sending my sweet, weird, old soul of a boy into the world. Combine that with the unpredictability of starting a new and totally different job and the loss of our comfortable routine and I was a mess. Seriously, I think I was about one more crying jag away from Matt crushing up sedatives and hiding them in my applesauce. It was such an odd mix of emotions because on one hand I could barely contain my excitement for C. After all, this was his dream! He got to go to school every day and learn in two languages! On the other, more sad hand, I was plagued with worry. What if no one wanted to be his friend because he is kind of weird. Or even worse, what if he acted like a know it all and all the kids thought he was a jerk. See what I mean?

None of this bothered Connor though, he spent the summer going about his back to school business like a pro. There was endless list making and starting around mid-July he began what Matt likes to refer to as the Connor Collection of Potential Scenarios. He likes to think through all potential experiences and make plans A-Z. This helps him feel prepared and therefore ahead of the game. These scenarios were then compiled into a master list for easy reference. (For those of you who judged me in the previous paragraph for calling out my own kid weird, I like to refer to this as Exhibit A.) He had potentials for all kinds of situations from the mundane to the extreme. After all, one cannot be too prepared. Can't get your belt unbuckled by yourself because it accidentally got glued shut? No problem, let me check the list. Ah, Solution C: It states you should always buckle only to the first hole, therefore enabling you to just pull your pants down in the restroom without any unfastening. Crisis averted. He really gets a kick out of list making although I think it might smack a little of OCD with a possible dash of neurosis. I only took one psychology course in college though, and it was a Friday afternoon class, so what the crap do I know. I did, however, watch a lot of Dr. Phil this summer, so I am keeping an eye on this particular situation.

So, back to the first day of school. It finally arrived! I woke up before dawn with a serious case of regrets. Why did I take a new job? Why did we put Connor in a program way across town? Life would have been so much easier if I had stayed put and brought Connor to school with me. Then I could have been in his business at a moments notice and we would have both been readily available for hand holding when either of us felt insecure. Matt was able to talk me off the ledge though, by reminding me that there is a plan for us and it isn't written on any list in Connor's drawer. My husband is so smart. And way less crazy. Our new kindergartner hopped out of bed, got dressed (with belt buckled to the first hole) and fixed his hair, "exactly like my daddy's."
He was ready. Matt got the privilege of taking him that first day. With my new job, it was going to be difficult to get away but more importantly it was really special for Matt and C to have that time together, so I said my goodbyes at home. Poor Matt, he left armed with a list of must take photos and the pressure of his wife's mental state weighing heavily on his shoulders, but I couldn't have done better myself. He even called and said in a whisper, "Ok, I have taken pictures of everything, including one of him breathing in and out. I'm pretty sure his teacher thinks I am creepy and wants me to leave. Can I?" He is so good!

Connor had put a mega amount of time selecting the perfect first day of school gift for his new teacher. Talk about a brown noser. First he really wanted to bring her some of his Gammie's homemade chocolate chip cookies. They are truly glorious, but I had to explain to him that as a teacher there is no way I would eat a homemade food gift on the first day of school until I determined how clean the kitchen is at home. That is new teacher 101. Next, he picked out two dozen roses. Good grief. We aren't proposing marriage to her! We just want her to like us, for crying out loud! He settled for a wildflower mix, some cool markers and a hand crafted card that ,of course, included a list. He was satisfied by that, not thrilled, but satisfied.

I couldn't wait for the day to be over so I could hear everything. I restrained myself from emailing his teacher for updates. I feel like I am walking a very fine line between normal parental concern and abusing the parent/teacher email system. Matt has limited me to one per week and absolutely zero between the hours of 11pm and 4 am because that is apparently when lunatics email. Or drunks. Whatever. So after the world's longest day my boy and I were finally reunited after school! He was so excited to tell me everything. He had an awesome day. He loved his teacher (who he says is beautiful), thinks his principal is hilarious (he pretty much is) and couldn't wait to go back the next day. YES! I was so relieved. He did however mention that he hadn't actually learned anything and that was a little disappointing. He visualized walking into the classroom, saying hello and starting in on two digit subtraction or something. I don't know, I don't understand how nerds think. I guess in the midst of all our preparation I forgot to mention that the first day of school is a weird one and lots of things have to happen, but it isn't a regular learning kind of day. I really can't believe I forgot that, because frankly I had been trying my hardest to crush some of his more outlandish dreams and help him focus on the reality of school. Before you think I am a creativity killer, let me just say that in one scenario his kindergarten class turned into a flash mob. No, he doesn't know the term flash mob, but after hearing him describe 22 five year olds spontaneously breaking into a semi-choreographed dance on the playground, I went ahead and drew that conclusion. Sometimes being his mother is very taxing. So anyway, after explaining to his parents that he hadn't really felt challenged academically on the first day he went on to describe his new plan. He decided to set a series of tasks to himself daily as his own personal homework. Fantastic. Task #1: Memorize the class rules. Task #2: Remember 4 names of classmates (and write them on a list). Task #3: Write his bus number and lunch number 20 times. Done, done and done. Luckily, the learning was on it's way and that has really soothed his restless brain.

So all oddness aside (and there is a lot of it to put aside) the first week of school has been fantastic. I am so proud of how easily he has adapted to school life and he loves his new school so much, it has already been immortalized in several lists. I am getting pretty used to the idea as well. I have managed to stumble through a few more hurdles, like the bus, and lived to tell the tale. I still feel like there is a Connor shaped piece of my heart walking around speaking Spanglish and creating school uniform pattern charts, but I think I am getting a little more okay with it every day. As Connor told me that first morning before he walked out the door, "I just can't stop getting bigger mom. I have to start kindergarten because I am trying to get ready for college."

Yes, I guess you are.

A Walking Tra-Vest-Y

Oh the black vest. Where do I even begin. The black vest came into our lives innocently enough. It was part of a super adorable Christmas outfit. Connor looked so handsome and grown up wearing his red tie and black velvet vest. He picked that outfit out and just felt awesome in it. After the holidays ended, the tie and vest were retired to the back of the closet, but somehow that little vest kept showing up in the most random places. Matt and I came to the conclusion that our son had fallen in love with the vest.

The vest appeared anytime C felt like it was a special occasion. That could include a UPS delivery, a random visit from a friend or when his brother managed to actually pee in the potty. You know, the most special moments in the fabric of our family. The vest was automatically part of his stage costume whenever he and his brother decided to perform one of their shows featuring self written songs and elaborately choreographed dance numbers. What occasion could be fancier than that? You probably can't expect this out of most items of clothing, but that darn vest went with everything. It worked with t-shirts of sleeve both long and short. It also adorned t-ball uniforms and pajamas. And let's not forget the most unnatural of all vest pairings, black velvet vest and no shirt. I can't even type into words the classiness of that particular jersey shore combo.

So what's the problem? Matt and I try really hard as the parents of two ridiculously creative and sometimes pretty far out there kids to let them have some space to do their own thing. Even though my natural instinct was to steal the vest while he slept, set it on fire, then lie about it for the rest of my life (seriously, that would have been the most natural thing I had done all week). But obviously ripping the vest out of his life would be traumatic. We tried to reason with him that perhaps summer isn't really the most logical "season of vest". But he was so sincerely intent on impressing the general public with this vest and I could tell his heart was really in it. He felt so proud whenever he had that crazy vest on, it made me want to cry. So, back to the problem. We are now just mere weeks away from starting Kindergarten. I had to break the news earlier this month that his particular school wears uniforms. I might as well have murdered a puppy right in front of him. I never thought when we went through the process of testing and applying for kindergarten programs that standardized dress would have such a devastating impact on my weird kid. Out of all the kindergarten things I have worried about, and I have worried about a lot, this wasn't even on the list. The first words out of his mouth were, "But Mommy, I can't look like everyone else. That isn't me." Crap. After a minute of deep thinking on both our parts I then heard, "Oh my gosh. What about my vest?" Double crap. Now even though you and I know that even if he went to a school with free dress, there was no chance I was going to let the vest make an appearance at school. I think we have enough little eccentricities on our own without having to be "that kid with the vest" that others might be hesitant to make friends with. But he thought he was going to roll into that school with all the confidence in the world because he was wearing "his vest." As smart and tall and ready as my five year old seems to be, there is still a little guy who feels unsure hiding behind the vest.

So we have been slowly phasing out the vest. I think it might have been easier to get him off cigarettes. Connor, who loves to make lists more than he likes to breathe, has been hard at work on a list of occasions that would truly be appropriate for a vest. We are also working on a list of ways that he can show his awesomeness while still dressed like 600 other kids. This is hard for me, because I would have loved nothing more in elementary school than to blend in. But that isn't my sweet, slightly odd little boy. So we are working on it. Matt and I have talked about how that ridiculous vest is obviously part of all three of our journeys to get ready for the big wide world. It's funny the things that God uses to help us along the way. I can tell you that while my son was born ready for school, my heart hasn't been ready yet. But each day without the vest is getting us all a little closer.

Who knew black velvet was so versatile?

Super H turns 3!

Last week we celebrated Hud's third birthday. I cannot believe my baby is already three! We decided to have a superhero theme because, well, H is a superhero. In his mind, there is no doubt that he has superpowers and is destined to save the world. Or maybe destroy it. I thought when Hud was younger that he and his big brother were total opposites and that they didn't really have a lot in common. That is partially true, but their main commonality is really starting to stand out to their parents. Here is the bottom line: they are both weird. I mean that lovingly, but let's face it they totally are. They both live in a world where the unusual is the norm and I am proud to say that five and a half years into motherhood, I am pretty okay with this. While Connor is likely to costume himself, pack a suitcase and head to space in his bedroom, armed with lots of facts and hand drawn maps, Hudson is more into the constant battle of good versus evil. In an instant, anytime, anywhere, he can be drawn into a life or death duel with one of a myriad of "bad guys." It's weird.

Spiderman is his favorite hero. He has spent the entire summer introducing himself as Peter Parker. Some people get it, others don't and some just ignore the weirdness. He has built up quite the repertoire of alter egos. We can now distinctly tell when he is being Peter and when he has switched to Spiderman. With Peter there is a lot of faux picture taking and mild mannerness and of course, with Spiderman he is constantly shooting his webs. He has shot just about everyone in the city with his imaginary webs, including the mailman, the cleaning lady (who totally freaked when he chased her around the living room pointing his wrists at her while saying, chooo chooo) and every cashier we have encountered at a grocery store. You never can tell who is going to be a bad guy, he subscribes to the web first, ask questions later philosophy of superhero-ing. In case you are wondering how his transformation from Peter Parker to Spiderman takes place, I have included a video of him putting on his spider suit. He does this roughly 27 times a day. As soon as he gets out of his carseat, it comes on. If we stop to look at produce, he suits up. Before he jumps in the pool.......the reasons for needing an invisible spider suit are endless. I can never understand why said suit requires armpit length gloves, but he never forgets them.

Spiderman is just a favorite in his collection of heroes. He also spends quite a bit of time as Peter Pan (maybe we should have named him Peter). This one you have to be careful with because he will cast you as Captain James Hook (he always uses the full name and title) without alerting you, so you can be loading the dishwasher and then turn around to find a tiny boy climbing the counter to cut your hand off with a foam sword. After the amputation, while you are still stunned into silence because you didn't see it coming, he will sheath his sword in his underwear, put his hands on his hips and announce,"Ha ha Captain James Hook! I cut you hand off, bad man. Come on Wendy! Come on boys! I love you mommy." Aww, what I always pictured when I dreamed of being a mother :)

So life is busy here with a newly minted three year old. There is a lot of world to save and he can't rest until it's done. He is a sweet little boy, stubborn as a mule and possible suffering from some sort of Napolean complex. There is a lot of cape wearing, swaggering around and shouting orders to invisible people. Connor eats it up with a spoon. They are quite the team. Connor is the facts man, he has checked out just about every non fiction kids book from the library. Hudson is in charge of making it movie worthy. While brother makes a beeline for the book shelves, Hud hits up the movie section. Or as he calls them moobies (which when he gets really excited sounds like he is calling out joyfully for boobies. As in "I need new boobies Mommy!"). Needless to say we are well known in the public library. Obviously God knew Connor's heart and gave him baby brother with an imagination big enough to match his own. As a team they are equal parts amazing and terrifying.

We couldn't love anything more.

Since this is Hud's birthday post, I put in lots of pictures of the man, some new and some old. It does my heart good to see how far he's come. Enjoy! I am headed up to start a pirate boobie for my little boy :)

Matt's Ears Revisit Childhood and We All Pay the Price

This past week was chaotic. We were getting ready for Hud's big birthday, Matt was starting a new project at work that was ultra time consuming and Connor was just busy being himself. In the midst of all this, we had a minor medical crisis. Wednesday night, Matt woke up with screaming ear pain. I am not exaggerating when I say screaming either, so I assumed it was genuinely painful. Since it was the middle of the night and we had all been sound asleep, I was thrown into a tizzy of confusion. Connor can sleep through a hurricane, so he wasn't bothered, but it had the little man up and asking for breakfast. He requested eggs. Fantastic. Since this ear pain was so sudden and he wasn't having any other symptoms, I immediately diagnosed swimmers ear. Matt, who under the healthiest of circumstances questions my self-awarded medical degree, doubted my swift diagnosis. This was surprising since as a child he could never recall having swimmers ear while I could remember the pain so vividly, it might has well have been yesterday. I am obviously an expert, but whatever. I humored him since neither one of us had ever met an adult who had been afflicted with swimmers ear; and I took to google to gather evidence to convince him I was right.

Sure enough, his symptoms matched up with swimmers ear (and also a multitude of other ear problems) but since I wanted to be right and I was the only one not completely incapacitated by shooting ear pain, I presented the evidence and started on my home remedies with the help of one particularly tiny physicians assistant. There are an unbelievable amount of home remedies for swimmers ear out there on the internet ranging from the common to the freaky, so we started with common. Since I am such a well prepared mother, I had lots of the "ingredients" handy. Hud and I raided the kitchen and poured a whole bunch of junk in Matt's ear while he was curled up in a fetal position in bed. It was all quite sad, although Hud had the time of his life. He kept up a running commentary about being the doctor and what spiderman might do if he was sick. There was a lot of gentle petting of Matt's head and leaning over and talking directly into the afflicted ear so his daddy could hear him better. Matt wasn't really entertained by all the chit chat since he was having such intense ear pain, but I secretly thought it was adorable. We had reached the point in our ear ache science experiment when Hud suggested that he might cut off his Daddy's ear with his foam sword and Matt seriously considered taking him up on it. With that I decided to step up and make a trip to the 24 hour pharmacy.

Ah, the 24 hour pharmacy. I consider myself lucky that in 5 plus years of being a mother, I have never made a trip to this strange mecca of middle of the night weirdness. But desperate times call for desperate measures. I loaded up Hudson since Matt was not in any condition to care for him and whisked us off to find some kind of relief. Again, the excitement was almost too much for Hud to handle. This particular pharmacy is about 15 minutes away from our house in a neighborhood that might be considered "past it's prime". And I don't mean like Cher past it's prime, it's more like a Lindsey Lohan past it's prime. We turned into the parking lot and discovered the all night pharmacy is a hot spot of nighttime activity. There were a wide range of people in the parking lot, there for a wide variety of reasons, many of not them not necessarily pharmaceutical in nature. But I couldn't worry about that because I was a good wife on a mission. I scooped a pajama clad H out of his car seat and realized that in our haste that we had forgotten his shoes. No big deal because earlier in the evening he had gotten a hold of a sharpie and had markered all over his legs and feet. See, we were fitting in already.

I took my marker shoed child in and discovered an enormously long line of desperate and wild eyed people waiting to see the pharmacist. Feeling a little desperate and wild eyed myself, I decided to hit up the cashier for some advice because, after all, they have probably scanned every over the counter medicine in the joint. Marker Feet and I schlepped our way up to the cashier and I quickly explained our situation. "Hi, we are looking for swimmers ear treatment and/or ear numbing drops. Do you know where they would be located?" After he studied me for a very awkward feeling 45 seconds, he replied "For a boy or girl?" Automatically I said, "Boy. Wait. What? Does that matter?" He just shrugged his shoulders. Okaaaay. Hudson took advantage of the weird silence to pipe up in a semi-aggressive way, "I a boy. I no baby, I big big boy." Thanks for that update Hud, we definitely needed a dash more crazy in this conversation. Ignoring my highly offended child, I faced down the cashier's blank stare and decided that this future member of Mensa was probably just trying to mess with the deranged woman clutching the mouthy toddler and stormed off to try my luck going solo. The line for the pharmacist was still 10 people deep so H and I combed every stupid aisle of that place and didn't find those drops in any of the logical places. Since in my mind this was clearly an infant problem, I thought surely they would be in the baby aisle. Nope. Children's medication? Nope. Finally when I had reached the point of giving up I stumbled across them in the eyeglass section where Hud was trying on all the readers. Yes, in the eye glass section. I whooped out loud and started laughing hysterically. We headed to the checkout where I thrust our selection of drops in front of the spaced out cashier and shared with him what they were and where they were located so he could be informed whenever the next customer asked. I also felt the need to share that ears are not body parts that differentiate due to gender. He remained unimpressed. With a final dirty look from Hud, we took our sad sack of drops and left. We got home and frankly, I was feeling pretty good about myself. Good and more than a little haggard. We rushed upstairs to save the day and found Matt snoring away. Apparently all my home remedies worked (Lord knows which one since I did them all at once), and he was out like a light and pain free. My victorious return home wasn't even acknowledged by the patient. Oh well, Hudson and I know what we went through to get those drops and then we had another two hours to chat about it before I could get him back to sleep. We had to wait until he felt ready for a nap since he still believed it to be morning. I also spent some of that time googling the most effective ear plugs for a 30 year old man to wear while he swims. I'm sure the sexiness will overwhelm me, considering that he also prefers to swim in a full face mask to prevent water from going up his nose (but that is probably a blog post in itself).

Sorry ladies, he, and his baby ears, are taken.