This past week has been a bit challenging. See, we have this seven year old boy that has been forgetting a lot of the rules around this place. You know, don't lie, don't hit your brother, you don't get to tell your mom or dad "no" when asked/told to do something. Nor do you get to make a barbaric grunt and huff off when told to go clean your room or wash your hands. Seriously. I have no idea what is going on. The kid is so smart, but man! This brings me to this evening. It was a baseball practice night. I read the schedule wrong thinking that he had practice at 6:00. So, Mike and Colton took off and then Brett and I were going to walk there since it was so nice out and heck, I could use the physical activity. Well, I get a call at 5:50 by my dear husband asking if I read the schedule correctly. What? Of course I did! Well, turns out I didn't. He didn't practice until 7:15. I felt just a little bad since I rushed everybody through dinner, but whatever. I make a deal with Mike and I end up bringing both boys to practice because of a couple factors with one main one being that Mike had about had it up to here with Colton's antics for the day. At 7:00 we leave the house. Get a mile down the road and Colton realizes he forgot his hat. It's sunny out and a hat is pretty much a neccessity. The following conversation occurs: Me: Seriously Colton, you are 7 years old - you know what you need for baseball practice, that is your responsibility. (Now if you didn't read that in an annoyed voice with a hint of anger to it, go back and reread it that way to get the full effect.) Colton: Geez Mom. Sorry. Um, I think my hat is in dad's truck. Me: Well you have 206 other hats, run inside grab the first one you see and let's go. Colton: Will you? Me: Thinking silently - are you freaking nuts kid? Said out loud - No, you are the one who forgot it, you go in and get it. Colton got a hat and we were off. I start driving to the field that they have practiced at for the past 4 weeks knowing earlier that they were at a different field tonight. We get close to said field and the conversation picks back up: Colton: Uh mom, we're not at this field tonight. Me: Oh, that's right. I totally forgot. Colton: You know, you shouldn't get mad at people for forgetting things. Me: What do you mean? Colton: You got mad at me for forgetting my hat and I'm not mad at you for forgetting what field I'm supposed to be at.
And to that I say....touche my dear child. Touche.
I received my Mother's Day gift on Wednesday. What can I say, my oldest is just like me. As soon as I have a gift for somebody, I want them to open it immediately! He made me this sweet card.... and he also made me this sign. It's on ready to hang canvas so I told him I would put it up at work for everybody to see. Here's how our conversation went: C: Mom, don't you want to open your gift? M: Right now? Don't you want me to wait until Mother's Day? C: No. M: Ok. C: See how it says "mommy" I know you always tell me that you want me to stay your little boy forever, so I left it "mommy". I could have cut off the last M and Y, but I knew you would like it this way. He's so sweet!
Friday night...approximately 6:20pm. Mike is on his way home from work, Colton is playing with the neighborhood kids who all are next door and I just pulled Brett out of the bathtub when the doorbell rings. My first thought is that it's Colton, trying to get into the house to grab something. I tell B to stay put and I leave him wrapped in his towel. I get to the door and it's not Colton, but our neighbor (who happens to also be a babysitter of ours). She looks at me and says....Colton's head is bleeding do you want me to stay with Brett. What happened? So I say to the neighbor as I run out the door, "Brett is upstairs, there's a diaper right next to him." I get about 8 steps out the door and here comes Colton - hand on his head and his two best buds walking right next to him with their arms around his shoulder. I see blood all over his shoulder and dripping down his wrist. I think to myself - oh, shit (sorry about the expletive, but we're talking my kid and blood here people) which hospital is the closest. He's crying, but not hysterical. I bring him up to the bathroom to get an assessment. Side note - I don't do well with blood, let alone my one children's blood. I grab a washcloth and start blotting as I'm calling Mike's cell phone to get his exact location. The more I blot, the better things look. I figure it's not squirting out, so we should be okay. There's a nice gash, but nothing that required a trip to the emergency room thankfully. I made him sit on the couch for about 30 minutes before I set him loose again in the front yard. Thank goodness everything turned out fine! Oh, I didn't mention that it was a trampoline accident....I haven't figured out exactly what happened, but he hit his head on one of the padded posts.