Thursday, May 22, 2014

Hey look: girls!

-The Pontipee brothers going to town with Millie to get supplies, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers.

Sometimes, the old sadness flares up again. But most times this is our family; we don't even notice it's all boys around here. Until funny moments pop up that remind me that these 4 boys don't have any sister(s).

For instance, my hair is getting pretty long now, and recently I put it in a simple braid for variety and to keep it away from my new habit of splitting the ends (you know what I mean, ladies. Can't. Stop.).

Benny sat behind me in the car and was awestruck by the braid. "Mom! How did you do that? What is it called? Could you do two? You would look like Anna on Frozen!"  He has no sisters with elaborate hairstyles and must not really notice girls' hair at school or church that much.

Recently, I painted my toenails again to get ready for sandals. 3-year-old Andrew was enthralled by my pink toes.

Another time, the older two boys asked me seriously, "What's Strawberry Shortcake?" A friend of theirs has a sister into this phenomenon and they were dumbfounded by it.

Besides Frozen (and Tangled and The Princess and the Frog a few years ago), they haven't seen many any other Princess-type movies. When we rode The Little Mermaid ride a year ago at Disneyland they hissed, "What's going on? Who are these people?"

Each time this happens I think, they don't have sisters, they have no idea.

Except Andrew doesn't seem to be fazed. As we talk through potty-training we go through everyone we know who poops on the pot (if you are reading this, your name has probably come up, too). He told me the other day "My brudders and sisters go on the potty."  Then, on our walk, he talked about his sister named "she-gator." I asked about her, and he said she liked to eat sandwiches.

So, maybe he knows something we don't know. Or he has been watching Frozen too much.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014


I have been known to warn the boys not to jump on the couch/climb trees/goof off on concrete/climb the outside of a slide/you name it, because "You could crack your head open."

Imagine my shock when Max came running up the sidewalk from our neighbor's house recently crying, "Andy cracked my head open!"

He had a gash on the back of his head. He said Andy accidentally pushed a wooden swing and it hit him. Heads bleed a lot but JB knew right away it needed stitches.

I gave him my other homemade Pinterest icepack (JB took the other one to the Instacare almost exactly a year ago when a shovel cut his forehead. That icepack, too, did not return home. I liked how flexible it was) and he held it to his head as JB drove him away.

Despite all these active boys, we haven't had much in the way of trauma, so I gathered the littler boys and we said a prayer for Max, and soon JB texted this picture:

"With the numbing gel about to get stitched."

Brave smile.

In the end, they decided on 5 or 6 staples, because it was the back of his head under hair, and staples are much quicker in those cases, they said.

You could barely see them:

He got them out last Thursday, and the nurse put them in a cup for him. He left it at Uncle Joe and Aunt Sarah's house, but they are bringing them back for him for show and tell.

By the way, Andy and his mom and the neighbor with the swing were all so apologetic and horrified and brought Creamies over for Max. Benny almost wanted staples, too, so he could have his own box of Creamies.  Andy told his mom they were playing a game where Max would try to miss the swing as he went under it while Andy pushed. Apparently they had a near miss right before and laughed in the face of danger, ha ha ha.

We are very glad it wasn't worse!

Friday, May 16, 2014


Max participated in his first cub scouts Pinewood Derby this week, and won third place!

I like to think JB really won third place, because he basically did the whole car. It was cool looking and fast, only losing to the others by a little bit on the official timer.

Look at how happy Benny was for Max when his name was called after the official scores were read:

Max also got's a win. But it kinda meant a hard time for Benny on the way home. He felt his cheers and support also warranted at least a handful Swedish Fish in return.

Max attended a derby when he was a toddler but doesn't remember it. At that time I mentioned I expected a lot of Derbies in my future because I had two boys.  Now we have four boys!

I can't wait to see the cars they -- I mean JB -- makes.

Monday, May 12, 2014

James 11 months old

James is rolling around the floor, occasionally squawking for attention as I try to post this....almost a  week after he turned 11 months old. One. Sticker. Left.

Also, I think Andrew has the nail clippers and is trying to clip his own nails. Momma has to post about our happy lives, children!

I'm also trying to watch Call the Midwife as the older boys and JB are at jr jazz basketball practice. The closed captioning is on: "Mommy, is that baby James on the TV?"

Anyway, back to baby James.

He's so squishy and kissable and chunky.

He's in size 4 diapers (so is Andrew at night. James's bum is quickly growing bigger than Andrew's bum). He wears 12-18 month clothing. I love shirts on him that ride up and show his belly.

This month he has really stepped up his eating of our food we eat. But he still loves to nurse, and nurse-nap with me, and still has been known to wake up at night to drink, too. But I can't expect him to go from 7 to 7 yet. Cuz he's my baby-est of babies.

Also this month he has started more intense babbling and rasberry-blowing and looking at us seriously as he says stuff. He bleats MA! for me like a baby goat. He says BAH for ball. He claps and finally pulls to standing (sometimes) and is doing those things he should at this age. Except he sits up differently than other babies. Instead of pushing up onto his hands and knees and moving to sitting, he starts flat on his back....then sits up straight with his abs of steel in a sit-up. It's hilarious really. Sometimes he gets an elbow under to help him.

I haven't gotten that on video yet, but I did try to catch his bum-scooting he does. He can travel far on the wood floor.

He does a combination of rolling, stretching, sitting and turning, then rolling again to get around. It's cumbersome but very effective.

And now he's squawking and pulling on my shirt. Time to go! We love this boy.

Sunday, May 11, 2014

My Four Sons

Every day and throughout the day I find myself saying little prayers in my heart for my four sons.

Prayers of gratitude for their sweet souls, entrusted to my care.

Thankful prayers for their health and safety and protection from harm.

Prayers pleading for their little bodies and minds to be healthy and grow strong.

For them to be good friends.

For them to stay close to the gospel.

For me to be a better mom.

My mom told me that when I (number two) was born, she wasn't sure how she had room in her heart to love another human being as much as she did her first baby. But then she discovered her heart grew. It grew each time she had another baby after that.

My heart has done the same thing.

Happy Mother's Day to my mom, my mother-in-law, all moms out there --

and to my sweet sons who call me mom.

Friday, May 2, 2014

Rub a dub dub

These two need more baths for two reasons. 1) They can get kinda stinky 2) They are so cute in the tub.

Wook at dat chub.  Rub-a-dub-chub-in-the-tub.

Baby James is ...just....SQUISHY. And his neck smells like a baby, you know?

So, Andrew goes through underwear like they are disposable. We have tried EVERYTHING that Google has to offer on "how to help your 3 year old poop in the potty." Nothing works. Bribery, sticker chart, treats, prizes, cajoling, praise, songs, shows (Daniel Tiger, you will be in my head for-EV-er).

I even tried offering Max and Benny treats, too, if they helped him. Benny was so eager for a treat that for several days he took to hefting/dragging Andrew into the bathroom with a yell of "He stinks, mom!" like, "I got this." But Andrew put up such claws I finally stopped that.

JB has the brunt of it while I'm at work. It seems Andrew is most number-two-y in the mornings.

My mom has been very helpful with suggestions. She potty-trained 11 children after all. Yesterday she said to keep Andrew by our side constantly, to keep him from hiding to do his bid-ness.  I looked over the 12 inches that separated us and saw The Poop Face:

Me: "Andrew! Let's run to the --"
Andrew: "Top Bodering Me."

So there. Today's approach is to stop bothering him. I'm going to test the statement everyone says, that, "Don't worry, they never go to college in diapers."