Tumble Dry Low

     Note to self:  When a clothing care tag says, WASH INSIDE OUT, MACHINE WASH COLD, GENTLE CYCLE WITH LIKE COLORS, ONLY NON-CHLORINE BLEACH WHEN NEEDED, TUMBLE DRY LOW, COOL IRON...It doesn't mean, eh...it'll be alright to throw it in with a load of colored clothes.  After all, it is colored.  And I did turn it inside out.  So, the water was warm, and the dryer was HOT!
     Daymond didn't ask for anything for his fourteenth birthday.  Nothing!  But he had mentioned a time or two to me over the last couple of months that he would really like to have a Varsity Replica jacket.  Ya know, like the old letterman jackets we used to get with our letters on them in high school?  Well, now you can just go buy them in the store.  It's one of the latest "fads."
     I searched online for a few days before we ventured out to the Mall to find the perfect jacket.  After all, you only turn fourteen once.
     Who knew there would be so many to choose from?  Our first stop, Aeropostale.  I loved the ones they had online and they were only $20!  What a bargain!  Obviously everybody else thought so too because they didn't have any in the store.  Not one!  So we moved on.
     Next stop.  Old Navy.  They keep up with all of the latest trends, right?  I couldn't believe it when they didn't have Varsity Jackets!  Curtis said, "maybe they're not as popular as you think they are."  I rolled my eyes and said, "what do you know, you don't keep up on what's popular and what's not."  He went on to say he'd "never seen anybody wear one."  I told him he just needs to turn the t.v. on.  Ugh...men!
     Next stop, JCPenney.  We walked in and Dakotahs escalator radar came on.  "Mommy, do we get to go on the elevator?"  "It's an escalator sissy."  "Oh.  Do we get to go on the excalator?"  "I don't know.  We'll have to see where the men's coats are at."  "Okay.  Mommy now can we go on the elevator?"  "Dakotah, it's an escalator." "Can we please go on the excalator?" "Okay, let's go."
     JCPenney's had the jackets!  I had to take a moment to rub this in my husbands face. And explain that these stores carry these items because they're "trending" at the moment.  Yes, I always have to be right.  And no, I'm not proud of myself.
      They had two colors to choose from but neither jacket had writing on them.  Hmmm....that's not really what I wanted.  I picked one out, held it.  Looked at it.  Looked at the price.  It was $50. And said, let's go to a few more places and we'll come back here if we can't find one that we like better.  "Mommy, are we going back down the elevator?"  "It's an ESCALATOR Dakotah!"
     So, next stop.  Macy's.  Curtis said, "If they have them, there's no telling how much they'll cost."  But, we threw caution to the wind and headed to Macy's.  Momma was on a mission.  I was holding Dakotahs hand and Dad and Dustin were trailing behind.
     I was doing the bob and weave through makeup, lotions, and shelves when we came to a sudden hault! Dakotah was depending on me to guide her through the store, and I was just ready to get in there, find a jacket, and get out.  I had guided her alright...right into a shelf full of perfumes and lotions.  We knocked a couple of boxes off but even worse was the goose egg it left on her forehead.
     She instantly started screaming.  I'm not sure if she was in pain or if she was humiliated!  Dakotah does NOT like attention and the lady that was working, bless her heart, rushed over to us and said, "oh honey, are you okay?  Do you want to see a picture of my puppy?"  I was just waiting for my sweet little girl to kick her and say, "how is a picture of your dumb dog gonna make my head feel better?!"  But, for a change, she was on her best behavior.  She smiled and the kind Macy's lady gave her a sucker.  I said, "Thank you." And we rushed on to the jackets.
     Ah Ha!!!  There they were.  That was "the one."  He was going to love it!  I was hesitant about looking at the price.  So I slowly, like if I didn't look too fast it would be cheaper, lifted up the tag, and it was the same price as the ones at JCPenney.  $50.00!  Yaaay!!!
     I carried it around for a while.  Looked at other things.  Just to make sure that's what we wanted to get and right before going to pay, noticed a sign above the jackets "50% OFF."  SWEET!!!  God lead me to this store!  We just saved $25.  What a bargain.
     So, after making one more stop, we got outta there.  Our shopping was done.  Daymond would be thrilled.  He got his nice, new, Varsity Replica Jacket, a pair of Nike Elite socks, which might I also add were 50% off.  Woo Hoo!!  And a three pack of Nike basketball socks.  This was a birthday success.
     It's funny how things have changed.  There were so many of us grandkids on the Zimmerman side, that when we were small all our Grandpa George and Grandma Irene could afford to get us were socks.  I remember every year before we would go to our family get together, my mom would tell my brother Tim and myself.  "I don't care if socks is all you get, you smile and act like you're thrilled."  So, every year, that's exactly what we did.  When deep down, I was always hoping for a little something extra.
     Well, I was right.  Daymond was thrilled with his socks and jacket!  He's pretty easy to please.
     And....this brings us to today.  He got the sleeves dirty and needed his jacket washed for school the next day.  It was 9:00 p.m.  I was already doing a load of colored clothes, and although the jackets care tag did say, machine was cold, and tumble dry low, I've been known to bend the rules.  If a recipe says, eggs and milk must be room temperature, I'm going to use them straight out of the fridge.  If a walking trail says, do not walk on grass, you better believe I'm going to walk on the grass.  Yes, I'm "that guy" that parks in the handicapped spot to run in the store.  Don't judge me!  I guess I'm just a rebel without a cause.
    Daymond was going to stay up late and wash his jacket.  I said, "Don't worry about it.  I'll get it."  He ask me if I was going to dry it before I went to bed.  I assured him that if I didn't, I would get up early enough to do it the next morning.  He questioned me, "Are you sure it's okay to wash it with the rest of the clothes?"  "Oh yeah, it'll be fine. Do you know how many years I've been doing laundry? Now, go to bed!"  I washed and dried them that night and went to sleep.
     DAYMOND'S GOING TO KILL ME!!!  That was my first thought!  My second thought?  Oh my gosh!  I don't know everything and I'm NOT always right?!  This can't be happening!
     I went up stairs and in my sweetest "mommy voice" I said, "Daymond, you're going to be so mad at me."  He said, "What did you do?"  There's no telling what was going through his head.  "I shrunk your jacket. I'm sooo sorry."  "How bad is it."  "Um, pretty bad.  It fits me."  He just rolled his eyes and got dressed for school.  That was the end of it?  That was easy.
     This morning when Daymond got up for school,  he put his shrunken jacket on, smiled and said, "Ya know, it was a little big anyway.  I'm glad you shrunk it."  And just smiled at me.  Aww...my sweet boy.
     So, this was a teaching moment for me.  Those tags aren't just there for decoration.  They really do mean what they say.  And I don't know everything after all.
     Following directions isn't just for men and kids.  Lesson Learned.
   

And That's Why We Can't Have Anything Nice

      One evening Devin, eleven at the time, came out of the kitchen and very casually said, "Did you know that if you put a ball of aluminum foil in the microwave in sparks really big!?"  I said, "Yes, I'm sure it does.  Please tell me you didn't."  Guess what?  He did.  He said, "At first it just went spark, spark.  Then, it lit up all over!"  He was so excited.  I said, "Devin, what in the world made you think that was okay?"  He told me that they did it on Myth Busters.  Well, if they do it on Myth Busters why wouldn't it be okay?  Curtis, normally the strong, silent type, piped in and yelled, "THAT'S BECAUSE THEY CAN AFFORD A NEW MICROWAVE!!!

     What started from Curtis's rage, years ago, has turned into a joke that we all say (in daddy's voice) from time to time.  "And that's why we can't have anything nice."  Every now and then, Curtis's temper still flairs but I've kinda learned to roll with the punches.  That way, nothing ever really takes me by surprise.  Hence the numb look on my face when you see me in the grocery store.  Don't take it personal.  I'm just walking around on autopilot.

     Less than a week after moving into our house in Marshfield, I went into the back yard to check on the kids.  It's completely fenced in so they spend a lot of time out there.  What I was met with was more than a little surprising.  Keep in mind, we are only renting this house.  I stepped out the back door and on the big, red, outbuilding by the back fence one of our children had painted this:
NO GIRLS
Well, that narrowed it down to three.  Daymond, Devin, or Dustin.  There were also initials painted.
D.C
They all have the same initials.  So that's no help.  But upon further investigation, the word (can you guess it?)  Devin was painted above it all!  Did I really even need to ask?  
     When I questioned him about it, he said, "I don't know, we're making it into our club house.  I didn't think it was a big deal."  I didn't even know what to say to that.  Not a big deal?  Really?  I said, "Devin, we're renting this house!  Other people frown on you destroying their property!"  His response?  "Oh, we're renting it?  I didn't know."  Because if we owned it it would be totally acceptable for him to deface it.  
Welcome to a day in the life of the Coffee's. 
     Two weeks after moving to Marshfield, we let the boys have some of their "Seymour friends" come over and spend the night.  Including our own children, there were 10 total.  The only rules we really had were, don't be too loud after we go to bed, don't eat everything in the house, and if you play outside, only go in the back yard.  Sounds reasonable enough, right?  
     You would really think in our almost 14 years of parenthood that we would've learned to be a little more specific.  Like, "Do NOT use 

cardboard boxes and slide down the stairs!"  But, we can't think of everything and we must be completely unreasonable to think that they would automatically know that this wasn't acceptable.  So, guess who slid down the stairs and put a nice, big hole in the wall at the bottom?  If you guessed Devin, you guessed right?! 
     Curtis swore after this incident, they would "never" have company again, for the rest of their lives!  We make the most ridiculous threats when we're mad at our kids.
     But really what do they think?  What goes through their heads right before they make the brainless decision to do such things.  As I'm pondering this, a memory comes flooding back to me.
     I was fifteen years old, we lived in a single wide trailer house that my mom worked very long, hard hours to pay for while my friends and myself stayed there and wrecked it most of the time. I remember one day, my best friend Dawn Hutchins was over and we were running and jumping and doing head stands on the couch up against the wall. Things got a little out of hand and I ran, jumped, stood on my head, and put a butt sized hole in the wall!  I thought this was the funniest thing ever!  Not once did I think, mom's going to be so upset.  Or, mom works so hard to provide this place for us and look what I just did.  No, that's just not how kids are wired.  Yet, I expect mine to be different.
     So, maybe the next time Dustin sits the stereo in the second story window and pushes it out onto the sidewalk just to see what happens, or I catch them with the screen popped out of a bedroom window, and the trampoline pushed up to it sneaking in and out waaay past their bed time.  After all, they were "just jumping." 
     I'll remember, they're only kids for a little while.
         
    

   

     

     

"Have a girl." they said. "It'll be fun." they said.

     I'll never forget the day I found out I was finally getting my baby girl! It was just another day, another ultrasound.  The Ultrasound Tech, Lynn, had come to know me by name, as this was my fourth pregnancy in seven years.  She had saw me get excited over baby number one being a boy!  I always think it's great when the oldest is a boy.  Then he can protect the other siblings. Seventeen months later when baby number two came along, Lynn got to see the same excitement when it was another boy.  It was only logical that the first two, being so close in age, needed to be the same sex.  They would grow to be best friends.  And, almost three years later, she witnessed me plastering a broad, fake, smile across my face, with big crocodile tears running down my cheeks when she pointed to the screen and said, "look boys, you're getting a baby brother!"
     When ask what you're hoping to have.  Most pregnant women's automatic answer is, "It doesn't matter.  As long as it's healthy."  Me, being the honest person I am, is telling you.  That most pregnant women are LIARS!!!  The very moment we pee on that stick and see a plus sign, we instantly start picturing one or the other. Pink or blue. Of course our number one desire is for a healthy baby.  But coming in close is a healthy baby, in the sex of our choice.
     So, as we left the doctors office that day.  I told Curtis, my husband.  "I don't care if I have to have ten baby's to get a girl.  I WILL have a girl!"  He looked a little scared.  But just like any smart man, he nodded, smiled, and kissed me on the forehead. 
     Baby boy number three, Dustin, was born in December of 2003 and I found out I was pregnant, again, in November of 2005.  I immediately started begging God for a girl.  I was desperate!  I didn't have a sister, every dog or cat we ever owned was a boy, my mom never wore makeup or done other frilly things with me.  I needed something feminine in my life!
     A few months later, in March we were at the ultrasound and Lynn looked at Curtis and said, "Daddy, you're going to want to buy a Winnebago for you and the boys. Cause when sissy gets older you guys won't be able to stand her and mommy one week out of the month."
     YES!!!  Lynn went on to tell us how girls hold grudges.  Even at the early age of three or four years old. Boys get mad and get over it.  But girls get mad and get even.  It's in their DNA.  Curtis was taking this all in, with fear in his eyes.  I was just seeing earrings, hair bows, big lacy dresses, baby dolls...you get the picture.
     So, when we left the doctors office that day, we went straight to the store and bought something pink.  And for the next five months we didn't stop buying pink! 
     August 12, 2006 we had little Ms. Dani Jean Coffee.  She was beautiful!  Of course, all of my babies were, but just look at her.  I instantly just couldn't get enough of her. 
     I DO NOT have a favorite child!  But my instant bond with my baby girl was completely different than it was with my boys.  I don't know if it was because I had waited for her for so long or if it was something else.  But there was definitely something.
     Dani was such a good baby.  She slept good through the night.  She had a very hearty appetite.  All the boys adored her.  She was our world!  The whole family catered to her every need and desire.  We didn't realize at the time the damage that we were doing to our little princess.
     At fifteen months old, Dani had to have surgery on both of her feet and one hand.  (I'll get into that in another blog)  She was in full casts from her hips to her toes and her full arm for five weeks.  She couldn't walk, she couldn't crawl, she couldn't stand, she couldn't hold onto a cup or bottle very easy.  She was basically helpless.

    We should have taken it as a sign that our baby girl was "changing" when she used her cast as a weapon and bloodied one of her brothers' noses.  I made excuses for her.  I mean, look at her.  Wouldn't you be irritable if you were all bound up like that? Yeah, that's what I thought!
     We couldn't wait for the day that she got to get the casts removed.  It was like a countdown to a holiday at our house.  So, we made the trip to St. Louis, to the Shriner's Hospital for Children.  Got the casts off, got some goodies from the nice guys in funny hats :) And headed home.
     Dani slept for most of the four hour drive home.  When we pulled into the driveway, Granny and all the boys were lined up on the porch waiting for our return.  When I got her out of her car seat to take her in, if I didn't know better, I would have sworn they gave us the wrong baby in St. Louis.  Gone was my sweet little "Dani girl" and in her place was this hateful, mean, possibly possessed, animal! 
     "Poor baby.  She's been through so much." said Grandpa. 
Hello!!! What about ME? Your poor baby? Do you not see this child beating the snot out of me? 
"Come to Grandpa sugar."  Gag!
     I'd like to tell you it got better.  But...that would make me a liar.  With three big brothers to do as they're told, when they're told.  It makes getting what you want super easy. They thought her little temper tantrums were "cute."  I tried to tell them that it wouldn't be cute when she was four or five and even less cute at fourteen or fifteen but they didn't listen.
     Fast forward about a year.  Guess what? I found out I was pregnant.  This time...not planned.  I.  Was.  Devastated! 
     After I came out of shock and quit crying.  I started begging God for another boy!  It's funny how time and circumstances change your mind and way of looking at things, huh?  My reasoning was, Dani was our little princess, I wanted her to have all the attention she could get.  She's been through so much and still had more surgeries to go.  She didn't need to have to share that with another girl.
     God does have a sense of humor.  First I couldn't get a girl.  Now I have two!  Meet Dakotah Jo.

Dani and Dakotah couldn't be more different.  God knew what He was doing after all.
     There are days that my girls make me crazy and I'm tempted to lock myself in the bedroom and cry.  But Dakotah has figured out that she can pick my lock with my van keys.  So, that doesn't work.
   Curtis constantly has to tell Dani that "the whole world is NOT a stage!"  She dances and sings down the aisles of Wal-Mart like she's the only person in the world!  It humiliates daddy.  I tell him that if he would just look around, lot's of other little girls do the same thing.  It's just not okay with him. I guess I've learned to pick my battles.  If you're gonna dance, just do it behind me so I don't run over you with my cart.
     Dakotah, on the other hand.  If I take a picture or video of her and she finds out that I put it on Facebook or YouTube, without her approval, she will have a total meltdown in no time flat.  I have to warn family and friends that come over NOT to mention a picture of her that I shared on social networking if they don't want to see a complete transformation!  It is not pretty!
      Even with all of their idiosyncrasies, my girls are so special.  
     Dani has such a heart for others. And at such a young age, she is eager to worship God.  And Dakotah is my little mini me.  She is by my side and does anything and everything that I do and need done.  This is an eye opener.  And makes me strive to be more like Jesus everyday, knowing that I've got little shadows watching my every move.
     So, are boys easier than girls?  In a lot of ways, yes!  But would I trade them?  Not for anything in the world!  

My sweet baby girls

     

Showing their individuality
Dani-the model
Dakotah-the gangster

It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

     I recently started quite a controversy on Facebook.  That wasn't my intentions but that's what it turned into. Which, in part is why I started this blog.  I thought, it's my blog, I can say what I want.  If you don't like it, don't read it!  Easy enough, right?!

     The question I posed was this:  If you were trying a new dessert recipe and right in the middle of it, you realized you were out of milk, you had everything else in the bowl already but lacked milk. But you do have breast milk in the freezer. Would you a) use the breast milk. You're home alone and who's gonna know. Right? or b) scrap all the ingredients and try the recipe another time?

     Keep in mind, borrowing from a neighbor or putting the ingredients in the fridge and going to the store weren't options, it was the end of the week and there was no money in the bank.  What would you do?

     I got several different kinds of responses. Anywhere from: "scrap that" to "use the breast milk, it's natural" to "seriously Jenny? your sick"  

     Let me remind you.  This was a hypothetical situation ;)

     I posted this question early in the morning and noticed when I logged into my Facebook page around bedtime that evening that there were close to 80 comments on the post. I had started a war!  It went from, what I intended to be funny and entertaining to a, let's see who can make whom the maddest.

     One person said it's "disgusting!" That it "carries all kinds of germs and will give you an infection."  How ever do our babies survive?  Another said, "it's natural and a beautiful thing" and it's a "God given right."

     Apparently these people didn't listen to my question. I didn't ask how they felt about breast feeding. I ask how they felt about substituting breast milk for store bought milk. Good grief!

     In the end, I re-posted that yes, I used the breast milk, no, it wasn't mine, ( it was my sister-in-laws) that I didn't really care what anybody else thought. I only ask because it made for a good conversation. 

     Daymond, my oldest, mentioned that those were possibly "the best cupcakes I'd ever made!" Devin said he would never eat another one unless he watched me put everything in them. And Curtis looked a little green when he found out that I put his sisters bodily fluids in our food.

     At the end of the day, this may or may not have hurt my chances of starting that Cup Cakery that I dream of owning and operating one day.  But what it did do was, give my family something sweet to eat after their dinner, give me a great Facebook topic and conversation starter, and I got to make a lot of people laugh! Those are my favorite things to do.
     Since then I've had several people ask me if I'd used any "special ingredients" in my recipes lately.  I just tell them, "what they don't know, won't hurt them."

     

     

     

     

     
Recipe:
Peanut Butter & Jelly Cupcakes
Cupcakes:
2 1/4 c all purpose flour
1 1/2 c sugar
1/2 c peanut butter
1 1/4 c milk (of choice:)
3 1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla
3 large eggs
Makes 24 cupcakes
1.  Heat oven to 350.  Fill cupcake papers 2/3 full.  Bake approximately 17-20 minutes.  Let cool.  Core centers and fill with grape jelly/jam.  Top with peanut butter frosting. (recipe below)
Peanut Butter Frosting
3 c powdered sugar
1/3 c peanut butter
1/4 milk
1 1/2 tsp vanilla 
1.  Mix powdered sugar and peanut butter in medium bowl with spoon or electric mixer on low speed. Stir in vanilla and 1 TBS of milk at a time.
2.  Gradually beat in just enough remaining milk to make frosting smooth and spreadable.  If frosting is too thick, beat in more milk, a few drops at a time.  If frosting becomes too thin, beat in a small amount of powdered sugar.

Tip:  If you substitute ingredients, keep it to yourself, people get all weird about it :)
ENJOY!!!

Lock Me Up & Throw Away The Key

     If you're the mother of small children, you'll understand me when I say, I get really tired of hearing the sound my own voice! My days typically go a little something like this, "No Dakotah! Do not write on yourself with markers!  I love u too Dani.  Dakotah, put the wet cat back outside.  I love u too Dani.  Dakotah, quit pretending like you're smoking the ink pen. I love u too Dani. Hey Daakkoottaahh, where are you? Oh there u are. Painting the bathroom with green nail polish...I LOVE U TOO DANI!"

     Sounds familiar to anyone?  Or are my kids the only ones that seem to make it their life's mission to run me as ragged as possible and try their best to make me cry before the sun goes down?  The above scene really happened, about two years ago.  That was probably one of those days that by the time I got supper on the table and everybody had their second or third plate, I was laying in the floor, in the fetal position, slobbering all over myself and Curtis was wondering what happened to his fun loving wife that he used to come home to every day after work.

Poor Mommy needs a time out!

     Well, since then I've grown some pretty thick skin.  And learned to block things out. I'm pretty sure it's a gift.  My mom and dad both say, "I don't know how you can just sit there and ignore Dakotah crying like she's not even there!" or "Why don't you answer him?! That drives me crazy!"  It was either learn to block out a little bit of the insanity, or kill somebody.  I knew the second wasn't an option.  For one,  orange is NOT my color.  And, I know I'm not tough enough for the prison life.  So, I went with the "tune em' out" method. It works really good for me!

     One day a couple of summers ago, I was cooking dinner and the kids were all playing outside. Running in and out, in and out.  I was just doing my thing. (ignoring the slamming door) Devin, 10 at the time and Kaya, my stepdaughter, then 12 said they were going for a walk.  I told them that was fine, just don't go too far and don't stay gone long.  They are our explorers. 

     If I haven't mentioned it in my past blogs.  Devin's my child that I have to be very specific with.  I'm honestly not sure how I've kept him alive this long or at the least from severe harm.  My daily dialogue:  "Devin, don't run with scissors...Devin, you can't use that sharp knife...Devin, don't jump off of the roof...Devin, don't drink anti-freeze." Okay, maybe that last one was an exaggeration. 

     Anyway, about 100 yards from our driveway, in the middle of the highway, there's a dead opossum.  It's been there for a few days and every time we drive by it, Devin wants me to slow down so he can inspect it.  I'm sure you can all see where this is going.

     On their walk, Kaya and Devin discovered that not only was the poor opossum murdered, but she also had three babies that were dead too.  They came back in from their adventure and Devin was excited to tell me about the babies. Kaya was sad. She thinks it's a tragedy anytime an animal dies. ANY animal! She has such a big heart.

     Devin proceeded to say, "Ya know, there's blood everywhere around that opossum."  I said, "Yeah. I'm sure there is." He said, "And when you pour peroxide on it, it bubbles like crazy!" I said "Why were you guys in the middle of the highway in the first place?" He said, "that's where we were taking our walk." Then I ask him, "And why in the world did you have peroxide with you?"  He looked at me with a look on his face like, you are sooooo stupid.  And said, "We didn't. We came back and got it!" DUH!!!

     Ya know, 3 hots and a cot sounds better all the time.  They'll let me have my books, right?!

Kiss Sleeping Good Night

I heard a young married couple that just had their first baby, talking at church Sunday morning. Someone said something to them about it being 3 months until they get a full nights sleep. The person that made this statement either, a.) didn't have children or b.) had super human babies that slept all night at an amazingly young age. Either way, I kept my mouth shut, for a change. But I was laughing it up on the inside.
I learned after baby #1, to totally take advantage of the hospital nursery for my two night luxury stay in Cox South. Because that was the best sleep I was gonna get for a while.
After going home with my little bundle's of joy I was very fortunate to get 4 hours of sleep per night. I was always so jealous of my friends when they said their babies got up every two hours to nurse. What in the world was wrong with my children? I was just sure they were in some kind of excruciating pain, or the formula was NOT doing it's job, or at the very least, they were possessed! Something?!
Dakotah, my 5th and final baby was my best sleeper. She started sleeping all night at three weeks old. I think God looked down, saw the black circles under my eyes, and thought, bless her heart, she needs some sleep. And so, Dakotah slept all night until she was 4 months old. It was nice while it lasted.
Well, none of them are babies anymore. Whew! Got that stage whooped. So their reasons for waking me up all through the night have completely changed, but alas, they are still there.
I don't really remember the last time Daymond woke me up in the middle of the night. If he wakes me up, it's usually needful. But Devin...Oh Devin. He keeps my door knob hot running in and out of my room. Here's a few of the excuses/reasons that he's used just over the past month:

Devin: "It's really hot in our room."
Me: "Open your window."
Devin: "I already did."
Me: "Then put your fan in it."
Devin: "I did that too."
Me: "Then what would you like for me to do?"
Devin: "I don't know."
Me: "Go. To. BED!!!

Another night.

Devin: "Hey. Can we watch a movie on MegaShare."
Me: "No Devin. It's 11:30"
Devin: "But I can't sleep."
Me: "You have school in the morning."
Devin: "It doesn't matter if I'm laying in my room or downstairs, I'm still going to be awake. Can I pleeeaassee???"
Me: "NO DEVIN. Go. To. BED!!!"
You get the picture.
Then there's Dustin. He came in one night crying. He laid his head down on my belly and sobbed. After asking him 3 or 4 times what was wrong. He finally said, "I'm just sooo tired." I said, "If I was tired enough to cry, I'd go to bed." So, after crying a little longer, he did.
So new mommy's, don't think that just because your baby get's older, that you'll get to sleep at night. Oooohhhh noooo. My children's ages ares, 13, 12, 9, 7, and 4. And there is NEVER a night that I don't get woke up for something. The best one yet?
Dani, 7 came in my room crying hysterically one night. With Devin, 12 hot on her heels. Saying Dustin, 9 woke Dani up and told her the house was on fire! Little did I know, that Devin had "not" held a lighter by her face for awesome affect. Just ask him. He would never lie. I tried to go back to sleep. But it was time for the dog to wake me up. If one person says I'm "payin' for my raisin'" I'm going kick them in the throat.
I keep telling myself that one of these days these will be "precious memories." But right now, I just need a nap.

The Art of Raising a Fine Young Man

I have three boys with three completely different personality's. Thank God!

So handsome:)

Daymond, my oldest, will be 14 next month. He plays the role of "Alpha Male" among our children. At 13, he is 6'2" and weighs 175 lbs. So, that role comes naturally to him. I recently found out that when he wants something, whether it be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that his 9 year old brother just spent 10 minutes making himself, or the XBox controller that his 12 year old brother has, he gets it...one way or another.
I am not exaggerating when I say that Daymond eats enough to feed a small family in Africa. He's literally swallowing his last bite of breakfast and asking what I'm cooking for lunch. He say's it takes a lot to "fuel the machine." I say he's a hog!
Then there's Devin. The middle boy and (almost) teenager. Where do I even start?
This one spends, I would say, 80% of his life grounded. This is the same child that received the "citizenship award" every year during elementary school. "He's so sweet." His teachers would

Just look at that "sweet" face!

say. "He's such a wonderful helper." We heard at conferences. "He treats everyone with such respect." They crooned.
Well, Devin's in junior high now. Gone are the days of sweet, respect, and helpfulness. (we don't see these at home any way) There are times that I swear, he lives to torture his other siblings! If it weren't for this extra curricular activity, he would have no reason to live.
Devin has a whole lot of energy. He loves to play sports, ride bikes, dig in the dirt, catch bugs. Pretty much anything that a real boy likes to do. That's where you'll find Devin. I've recently figured out that the more dangerous, the better. I heard him, our 9 year old and their friends from down the street screaming in our back yard. I looked out the kitchen window to check on them and saw Devin doing a flip off of the peek of the garage onto the trampoline. I ran out the back door and screamed, "DEVIN!!!" He slowly walked up to me with a smirk on his face. I said, in a frantic voice, "What are you thinking?" He said, "What? Nobody got hurt! Did you see that? It was Awesome!!!" That's Devin in a nutshell.
Then there's my baby boy, 9 year old Dustin.
He's so sweet and always ready to lend a helping hand. He's my one child that, if he see's that I'm not feeling well, will offer to rub my head. Or if he notices that I'm overwhelmed with housework, he'll ask if there's anything he can do to help me.

My sweet baby boy:)

I'm not saying he's perfect. Far from it. The jury's still out on who spray painted yellow dots on the side of the house with bright yellow spray paint, even though Dustin was caught, red handed, with yellow paint on his finger. He also still deny's, 6 months later, that he texted a dirty word to his older brother from my cell phone. Even though we know that he's the one that had the phone at the time that the text was delivered. But when interrogated by Daymond, he still cries and swears it wasn't him! So who knows, maybe it was the dog!

With all of this bad, comes a whole lot of good.
I was stopped in town Saturday and it was brought to my attention that, while we weren't able to attend Daymond's football game last week, he stopped late in the game while the two teams were tied, knelt down on the field and said a prayer in front of his team mates and all of the other people. That's a pretty bold move for a 13 year old.
Devin may act out at home and torture and torment his siblings, which I hear is completely normal. But he gave up one of the best friends that he had made in a new school because he was making racial comments to some other kids in their class. Devin told him that he wasn't going to be his friend anymore if that's how he was going to treat other people. And that we didn't believe that way because we were christian's. The boy didn't stop. So Devin stuck to his word. An equally bold move for a 12 year old.
I'm proud of my boys. There are times that I think, do they hear anything I say to them? Why do I waste my breath? But I know, at the end of the day, it's getting through. And that makes me one happy mama!