Stapled

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!

Derbied

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 candy....so.....that'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.

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.

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.

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."

Big boy food

James tries Nutella. And loves it.

With this baby, it took us much longer to introduce solid foods. And once we did, we jumped to "real food" really fast.

Call it experience, call it laziness, but he has been mashing up food from my plate at dinner for a long long time. And he likes to pick up food with his fingers and grab at the spoon or fork and try to feed himself. Usually it means the food is flung somewhere else as he aims the wrong end toward his chompers.

I tried one of those mesh bags that they hold and kinda suck or munch on the food inside. I think all he tasted was the mesh.

JB likes to say this is truly my boy, because of the food he seems to really enjoy. Processed, pressed, frozen reheated chicken nuggets? Pounds them. Grains? Likey the toast and crackers. Lasagna? EXCELLENT. Corn? Sucked on the corn cob on Sunday. Cake? Gimme gimme gimme.  Broccoli? Nah.

I keep trying frozen peas. Those were my favorite as a baby, I'm told.

J and J and their Jordans

This is John Byron and James Byron. 

Like father, like son.

They like shoes. Bout to play some baby ball.