I Remember My Kindergarten Boyfriend

Do you remember your very first boyfriend/girlfriend? I do.

I was in Kindergarten. His name was Neil. He had auburn hair and freckles. We would always sit near each other in class or at lunch. It was very serious for 5-year-olds.

My son Mac is in Kindy now. And this week is Valentine's. When I suggested the kids make Valentine's for their friends, Mac announced, "I'm going to make one for Jane*! We're going to get married!"

This is news for me. Jane* is a girl in his class. She's an adorable little free spirited girl. I put the picture of his Valentine on facebook and her mother said Jane is very excited about this.

I don't know if either child will remember this when they are grown. But I know I remember the first boy I had a crush on. It meant a lot to me at the time and now the memory is very dear to me. I hope they will always remember the first person who made their heart go pitter-pat.

*Jane is not her real name.


(and - I know I haven't blogged in months. I've been thinking about making a come back.)

The Mother-in-Law Paradigm

Last night I had a revelation.

I have 2 sons. One day I will be The Mother-in-Law. One day some hoochie will swoop in and steal my boys from me.

I told Marshall this, to which he said, "You have a daughter, too. She'll get married one day."

"Yes," I said. "But that's different. Daughters love their mothers always. It's the sons who get sidetracked by new women in their lives. Haven't you heard the saying, 'A daughter's a daughter all her life, but a son's only a son till he takes a wife.'"

He had never heard that. Obviously because he is a son. With a mother. My mother-in-law.

Now, I love my mother-in-law. She's an amazing person. I go to her for advice, and I call her regularly. But I know not everyone has this relationship with their husband's First Love. And yes - there is some tension. I do things different. I made her baby live hours away. I am a very picky eater. Small problems, thankfully. But I do make an effort to spend time with her, talk to her, get my husband's favorite recipes from her, etc.
I hope I'm half the mother-in-law she is one day.

So one day my baby boys will grow up and get married. They will love another woman more than they love me. Will they move hours away? Will their wives - and my extension they -  turn their backs on me at some point? Will I ever get to see my grandkids?

I know I have years and years before this happens. But I hope I can be a great mother-in-law. I hope I can be accepting of other women getting the affections of my boys. I hope I can be nurturing, loving, accepting, and yet distanced from my sons and their wives - supportive without butting in. What a delicate balance.

What is your relationship with your mom-in-law? How do you think you'll be as a mom-in-law one day?

My Son is Amazing

I can only imagine what would have happened to my son had he not been adopted.

Adoption Day

He entered foster care at about six months old. He was placed with a kind foster family. When we met them I could tell they cared deeply for him. I wish I knew more about that time in his life, but I don't. It's sad, but I'd rather have the next 50 years than that one year.

We brought Mac home when he was 10 months old. It was 3 days before Christmas. We had his first Christmas, first steps, first birthday. I am so thankful God granted us that time!

It took 21 months to adopt him due to an unforeseen custody battle with the family he was removed from. But he's ours, 100%. That was 2.5 years ago. So hard to believe!

Now Mac is an amazing 5 year old. He is the kindest child you will ever meet. He often gives up his portion of treats or prizes so other people can have them. He is selfless to a fault (I often have to remind him that he deserves treats as well and to stop giving things away all the time). He's a charmer - all females love him from young to old. I think it's because he's just so inviting and open, people are drawn to him.

Mac is fiercely loyal to his family, especially his brother and sister. While I know he and SB fight all the time, they would defend each other to anyone for anything. And with Jay - he is smitten with that baby. Always hugging him and playing with him. I love to see him interact with his siblings.

We would never know this about him if we had not adopted him. In fact, I wonder if he would have been like this had he remained in the family he was born in to. I'm not trying to bash them, but they were not good people. They did not nurture him.

My son is amazing. He is a quality human being. He is smart, funny, giving, talented, bubbly, dedicated, athletic... And he is MY son. My son. Thank you, Lord, for this amazing boy.

And he wouldn't be my son if it weren't for the gift of adoption.

Have you considered it?

Pick Up the Poo

I can only imagine all parents deal with this to some extent - disobedience and lying. I mean, it's normal for a kid to test his or her boundaries, right?

Last week Mac decided to test his. He peed on the stairs. About 5 feet from a bathroom. And about 8 feet from another bathroom. And 9 steps and another 5 feet from another bathroom. Get the picture?

I asked him what was going on. He said he couldn't make it to any of the aforementioned potties.

Me: Oh no! Are your pants wet? (I knew this was not the case)

Mac: No.

Me: So how did you have an accident and not get your pants wet?

Mac: I pulled it out of my pants. (you know, "it," the part that pees)

Me: You had time for that but not to make it to the bathroom?

Mac: No. I just decided to pee on the stairs.

I made him clean it up, of course. But I wanted something else. Because not only did he pee on the stairs, but he lied about it.

So I told him maybe as punishment he needed to go in the yard and pick up the dog poo. I'm thinking I'm pretty smart. The punishment fits the crime and all. Besides - we have a chihuahua, he'd spend 5 minutes out there with a shovel and bucket, find nothing, and be done. I mean really - chihuahua poo is tiny and there's no telling where it might be in our big yard.

But Mac bursts into tears over this.

What on earth? I didn't think it was that bad. It's not against the law to have your kid clean up the poo from your yard, right?

I took his hand and calmly asked why he was crying.

His response: Can I at least use a NAPKIN??? **waaaaa**

I couldn't help myself. I busted out laughing. My poor boy thought I was going to make him pick up poo with his bare hands.
He was not too amused with my laughter, so I had to calm down and reassure him I would never make him touch poo with his bare hands. Then I decided that the mere idea of handling poo napkin-less was enough and let the rest of the punishment slide. 

My poor sweet boy.  I'm still laughing over this one!

First day of School, Part II

So SB started school about 2 weeks ago and it's been pretty smooth sailing so far. The best part has been spending the days with Mac. He's such a cuddly guy and so much fun. I've really enjoyed the one on one time I've had with him.

But yesterday he started school. He's doing an afternoon PreK class at the elementary school. He eagerly grabbed his Angry Birds backpack and his monkey lunchbox and headed off. He gave us the kiss on the hand his teacher required of him and refused my request for a hug because his teacher didn't include hugs in her instructions.

After school he said he played with a boy named Ty, ate all his lunch and that SB came and sat with him while they waited for my mom to pick them up. I'm so glad he enjoyed himself!

Here are a few pics from his big day!

Barbies in the Buff

My 4-year-old is obsessed with Barbies in the buff. If you recall, the 4-year-old in my life is male. My son has a thing for stripping down Barbies. And it’s not an at-home obsession. He carries his naked Barbies with him everywhere.

http://alexmphotography.com/20091130/barenaked-barbies/

He chooses one to take to the store and carries her lovingly around – her perky chest exposed and the lacy, flesh-colored panties barely covering a thing. Thank goodness her waist-length hair gives her some amount of modesty. 

At night Mac lays with 5 or 6 nude Barbies – the tramps. But if any of them are found with clothes on, he just pulls their dresses off and snuggles in with them. 

I’ve been assured this is just an exploratory stage for my son. He’s body curious, which I totally understand. It’s just a little creepy, you know? But I guess there are worse things in the world. Right?

When I Met a Boy

One of MamaKat's Writing Prompts this week was Describe where you were when you met a boy.

So I thought I would tell you about where I was when I met my son. He was a boy, and I had to meet him.

I first saw my son's picture on Dec 7, 2008. A cute little guy with ears that stuck out. My husband and I said yes - we wanted to bring him home.

Mac, once we got him home.

On Dec 22, we put SB in the car and we drove two hours to a small, stinky trailer where the wallpaper was literally peeling off the walls. The place reeked of smoke so much that my eyes burned.
But the people inside were quiet, nice. Our son's foster parents were a little older, but not old. They both had tears in their eyes and did not smile. They had taken care of our son for three months - I'm sure they were attached to him, used to him, felt like they knew him.
Then I saw him. The little boy from the picture. He was sitting in a baby walker, bumping along in that tiny trailer. Three days before Christmas and he was wearing a white "wife-beater" tank top, blue plaid pants and navy blue shoes. His cheeks were as red as Rodolph's nose. He had bronchitis and a double ear-infection.
The social worker had told me not to take a ton of pictures in their house, so I refrained and sadly don't have any pictures from that first hour. But that's okay. I have the boy.
We stayed for about an hour. I asked if the baby had a lovey - a blanket or toy he loved. They said no. And he didn't take a pacifier either. He never cried, they said (we later learned he did not know how to cry), and was an easy baby.


His things were in two big black trash bags. One was Christmas gifts still wrapped up. I felt bad that they had probably had to remove those things from under their tree. I realized later that his name had been on one of those angel trees because all the gifts were pricey. I prayed and silently thanked those who were willing to give to my son.
When SB - who had just turned two - announced she was ready to go, we left. I took one picture of my son with his foster parents. For their privacy I won't share it here. We put the kids in the car and left.

Mac and his social worker

We got home and put SB down for a nap. We looked at the expressionless little boy in front of us and wondered what to do with him. He was 10 months old and I had no idea what his schedule was, what he ate, what he enjoyed. I suddenly wished I had the foster parents' phone number to call and ask, but we never saw or heard from them again.
I washed his things twice and they still reeked of smoke. I threw it all away. I kept two little stuffed animals and a blanket his foster mother had crocheted for him.

It's been almost 3.5 years and I will never forget the day I met my son, Mac. This is part of his story.

They Didn't Call

Part of our agreement in adopting Mac was that a certain set of his biorelatives would have visits with him four times a year.

I don't really blog about it because it's his and their time, not mine, even though we're all there and I have to answer the same 5 questions for 4 straight hours. But I won't go there. I work very hard not to speak ill of these people, because really they are fairly nice.

They were scheduled to have a visit with Mac in January. Typically, they call about 2 weeks before Visit Month and we set up a date and location for the visit. We've done everything from the zoo to the movies, museums to play parks.

Typically, I get a call for Christmas. They want to talk to "The Baby." I have to remind them that Mac is no longer a baby, but I think they just don't want to use the name we gave him. And typically we get a call for his birthday, having just passed as you know.
And the visit is in-between where they inundate him with old toys he's either too young or too old for and clothes that fit last year. But they mean very well and really do love him. They are very sweet and also usually bring SB a little gift as well.

But they didn't call. No phone calls or cards. No scheduled visit. Nothing. Now, these people are elderly. I've checked the obituaries, I hate to say. Nothing.

I know what you're saying - we could call them, but Marshall and I firmly feel that if they want to see him, they will call. It's not up to us to schedule their visits. We send cards and pictures at appropriate times (Christmas, his birthday, and after visits so they have pics from the visit.).

Did they give up on my son? As much as Marshall and I dread the visits, we think it's the best thing for Mac so we support them happening. They haven't missed one yet. I'm shocked.
I'm happy for me - we don't dislike these people, but we don't trust them with an inch.
But I am so very sad for my son. Why didn't they call? Did the last people from his biological family who cared give up? If they're sick or if they've died, would someone tell us?

Being part of a forced open adoption is a strange thing. It's all so unknown.
I think I will send a card to them with Mac's birthday pics in it... maybe we'll get something back. Even if it's bad news.

Four Years Ago...

Four years ago, this was a regular old day for me. But it was the day my son was born.
I've said before that knowing NOTHING about his birth has made me sad. I had no idea what was happening, I had no idea that a precious little boy was being born who would need us and would come into our lives like a whirlwind. I even checked my calendar after he did come home - and there was nothing on my calendar for that day.
It does make me sad. Many adoptive families were there when their child was born...or at least knew about it. No such luck for us. Now, if you ask me about the day he came home. That day gives me the warm fuzzies. That is the day I want to celebrate having a son.
But this day is the day my son was born. I am eternally grateful that his biological parents chose life for this precious child. I am eternally grateful that God chose us to be his family.

Mac is the most amazing child. He's all boy. He loves cars and Cars. And trains. And anything with wheels. He is LOUD and a ball of energy. He's mischievous and a daredevil. I don't get him, but I am so glad I got him. He's my baby. And he's four years old today.

Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful child!

I Remember the Day We Brought You Home...

I can hardly believe it's been three years since we brought home an adorable, quiet little 10-month-old boy. Three years since we signed the pre-adoption agreement that I *still* carry around in my purse. Three years since the social workers told us to take home a complete stranger and turn him into our son.

I love these eyes...

I still remember every detail. We met a tiny slip of a girl at the DSS office and followed her to a tiny little trailer in a town I still can't identify.
There we met two very nice people who were caring for a tiny little boy. The trailer reeked of smoke and the wall-paper was peeling. Apparently smoking is okay for foster parents (and I don't begrudge them that), but this place smelled terrible. Marshall and I held our breath for the better part of the hour we were there.
Then we met Mac. It was December 22 and he was wearing a wife-beater tank top. He was in a walker and we later learned he probably spent hours a day in that walker because that was his mode of conveyance - how he moved around. He had a double ear infection and bronchitis. All his clothes were in a grimy gym bag, with the rest in a black trash bag.
After being there an hour (in which time I hardly touched Mac, because the social worker said not to "swoop in and take him") SB announced she was ready to go home. Thank goodness for articulate 2-year-olds.
We loaded his things up and headed back to the DSS office to sign some papers. Then they told us to take him home. They would come in a few days to check on us.

Mac and the World's Best social worker, Amanda

Everything he had reeked of smoke. Everything. Nobody had told me not to wash a child's things because they "smell like home." I washed and rewashed everything. And then threw all but a few things in the trash because of the smell. One little toy that I put in his crib (he did not have a lovey, so that wasn't an issue), and I kept the pants and shoes he came home in. I think that was it.
Mac got a bath about 10 minutes after coming home to wash the smoke smell off of him.

We had a very rough go of it at first. I was incredibly sick/anxious for weeks. Mac would not sleep without sleeping ON someone for weeks. It was a long, hard road for us.

But now - now three years later. I am amazed. This is my child. He may not be flesh of my flesh, but he IS the love of my heart. He's gone from a blank - I do mean blank - child to an energetic, expressionful, gorgeous child.

Happy Gotcha Day to my wonderful Mackie-Boy, Mac-Man, Mac Attack, Macaroni. My son.

A confident and loved little boy...

Welcome!!! Have Some Ice Cream!!

Oh, thank goodness you're here! I was having a hard time keeping the ice cream away from the kids! I saved it just for you.
In case you haven't heard, it's my SITS Feature Day!

It's like a birthday, only better because I get comments. But the double-fun is that my birthday (yep - the 3rd anniversary of my 29th birthday!) is on Christmas Day, so we can celebrate BOTH!
Two scoops for everyone!

If you're new to A Few Sprinkles Short of a Sundae or not, it doesn't matter, I have ICE CREAM! Just don't touch my sprinkles! I'm already short.

For those of you NOT used to my sarcasm and superfluous use of exclamation marks (!!!!), I'm Allison. I'm a Christian woman, wife and mother - both biological and adoptive. I'm an avid adoption blogger and I also strive to let other moms out there know that they are not alone in this vast world of motherhood and all the twists and turns our busy lives provide.

This is me, wild hair and all!!

And yes, that is a halo above my head! Actually, I took this pic of myself at Bloggy Boot Camp Atlanta and I had the hardest time trying to hide that darn halo. Just ask my Tribe Members - I bet they saw it!

This is my family:

 

We are made up of two crazy trombone players who met when we were 13 years old, started dating at 17, and got married at 22! We have a biological daughter, SB, and an adopted son, Mac. We also have two heaven-bound children whom I cannot wait to see one day seated at the feet of Jesus.

Now, to find out more about who *I* am, check my about me page, and please please check out My Testimony about trusting God! These both include abridged versions of our story regarding infertility, miscarriage, giving birth and fighting tooth and nail to adopt.
And if you just want to know what the best posts are, I have a tab for that, too. See The Posts You Don't Want to Miss!

Oh, you want to know why I'm A Few Sprinkles Short of a Sundae? Good question. You see, way back in 2006 I started a blog about my pregnancy. Then it evolved into talking about my baby and our quest to adopt through foster care. And then we went into the fight of our lives to keep our son both with us and safe, so that blog came down and this one - which is slightly more anonymous - came up. I called it "Mommy's Scoop." And from the scoop came being "A Few Sprinkles Short of a Sundae," to indicate that I don't have all the answers.

There is so much more that I want to say, but I'll stop here and let you explore! I hope you enjoy your stay and have another scoop of ice cream!


Follow @SprinklesofAlli




 

I'm on Facebook, too!

No, You Cannot Sword Fight Girls

My son has recently discovered sword fighting. He's three. I blame the blockbuster Puss in Boots for this new obsession.

http://puss-in-boots-trailer.blogspot.com/

Vampire Pez dispenser? It's a sword.
Ramone from Cars? It's a sword.
SB's pink belt? It's a whipping sword.

And Mac keeps trying to sword fight his sister. SB, while she loved Kitty SoftPaws, has no real desire to duel with swords. Mac does not seem to get this and it keeps getting him in trouble.

This was our conversation tonight (in the car, mind you!).

• SB: Mom! Mac is using his noisy monster truck to sword fight me!
• Me: Mac, please don't use your truck as a sword.
• Mac: {Devilish laughter}
• Me: Mac, listen, your sister does not want to sword fight. In fact, you should not sword fight any girl. Girls are to be treasured and cherished, not sword fought.
• Mac: Okay...?
• Me: If you want to sword fight, you can do it at school, only at play time. And you should approach your guy friend...
• Mac: Dalton!
• Me: Okay, Dalton. You should approach Dalton and say, "Yo, Dalton, it's playtime, wanna sword fight?" And if he does he'll says, "Yeah, Man, that sounds awesome. Let's go!" And then you can sword fight. But if Dalton doesn't want to sword fight he'll say, "You know, I'm having fun swinging right now. How 'bout I check it out later, yo?" And then you do not sword fight Dalton, you see if Coby or Eli want to sword fight. But under NO circumstances are you to ask Mattie, Helena, Megan or Emma if they want to sword fight. They are girls. They do not sword fight. You got me?
• Mac: Yes. I understand. I'll say, "Dalton do you wanna sword fight?" And he will say, "Of course I do!"

(I love how I was using the cool slang and my son repeated that as "of course.")


But anyway...if my son asks you (if you're female) or your daughter to sword fight, please redirect him towards another member of the male race. And try to teach him some slang while you're at it.

Why I'm Glad I Have a Boy

If you know me, you know I'm girly. I like pink and sparkles and used to draw tiny hearts around boys names. (Okay, so I did that yesterday with my hubby's name. Give me a break!)

And I will tell anyone willing to listen that I have no idea what I'm doing with a little boy. We don't have little boys in my family. We marry boys, not raise them. I had never even changed a boy diaper before we brought Mac home.

I had never played cars or guns or rough housed. I had tea parties. I played Barbies. Boys were a completely different breed of person to me.

So when we brought Mac home I felt like I was looking at an alien. It was a learning process (and still is!). Thankfully for me, he has a big sister and I could still dress him up in tutus (he wanted them! I promise!). I had to resist the urge to paint his nails and get his ears pierced, though. Daddy would not like that.

But I am so glad I have a little boy.
For one, it balances me out. Tea parties are fun, but only for so long. Then the giant scary dinosaur comes and smashes things to bits, leaving little red-haired girls crying in their wake and me laughing at the fun of it all (until Red notices and I have to scold the boy). Mac has introduced me to a whole new side of fun I didn't know existed.
A son does not have the mood swings a daughter has. Yes, he gets angry and upset, but he doesn't brood. He doesn't stew over an injustice the way girls do. Offer the kid a sucker or toy and all is forgiven and he's happy as a clam again. Mac really is the happiest child I know. He has a smile for everybody and is such a joy!
He is also my lovey-dovey child. SB is very sweet, but she's not a cuddler. Mac is. In the rare moments he is quiet and still he cuddles. And Oh, how he cuddles. It's amazing. He curls up tiny as can be and puts his head on your chest and makes you want to melt.
He gives "best" hugs. Ask him when you see him for a Best Hug and then brace yourself. He will jump at you and squeeze you with all his might. And it's the most wonderful feeling in the world.
There is no fear in my son. Unless you're talking about bugs - he freaks out over bugs - but otherwise, no fear. I would be scared to death to have someone toss me 12 feet high in a swimming pool and let me crash down - not Mac. At three years old, he loves it. Rock climbing? Going under water? Meeting people? No fear at all. It's just not in him (unless you're an ant. then stay away).
Mac keeps me on my toes. He thinks of things girls just don't think of. Who needs to color on a piece of paper when you have an entire wall as a canvas? And didn't I know that my phone could do that? And who would have ever thought that a stick could be a balance beam, a weapon, a walking stick AND a dog leash - all at the same time.

Before Mac came home, I could not have ever imagined my life with a boy. It was so foreign to me. It's not an adoption thing, it's just a girl/boy thing. But now - now I have the most precious son. I am so thankful to God for granting me such a wonderful gift. I only hope I can do right by him!

(Don't worry, the "Why I'm Glad I have a Daughter" post will be coming soon!)

Weaning of a different kind

I was a very strict weaner when my kids were small.

SB's last bottle was on the day of her first birthday and then they were gone. We spent all of her 11th month transitioning from formula to whole milk so that on her first birthday she was formula and bottle free.

With Mac it was a little different. Since he came to us at 10 months old and had never had a solid food before, we delayed. He was 15 months old when we got him off the bottle and formula. But again, I was strict about it.

But then the allergies started. With Mac being allergic to dairy and soy, factored in with his inability to gain weight, he was put onto a high calorie milk substitute called Peptamen Junior.

Basically this junk smelled like vanilla & cotton candy flavored spoiled milk. It took months to get used to the smell, but Mac loved it. We began calling it Mac-Milk. His favorite thing in the world is Mac-Milk.

But now he's outgrown his allergies. He can have all the wonders of true dairy now. It's time for the Mac-Milk to go bye-bye.
But he loves it.
But it's time for it to go.
But it makes him happy.
But it stinks.

So over the last month or so we've been making the transition. Just like with formula, it's 3/4 Mac-Milk, 1/4 milk. Then half and half. Now we're at about 1/3 Mac-Milk and 2/3 regular milk.

This week there were 6 cans left in a box and I decided we were not opening another box (let me tell you - we have...at least 6 BOXES of this stuff left - 24 cans to a box). Now, since I took this picture, we have used up one can and have opened another. So less than 5 cans left.

This has been the Mac-Milk shelf on our fridge for 2 years. It holds 8 cans which used to be about 2.5-3 days of Mac-Milk.

I'm so happy to be weaning him off of this stuff. But it's also a little sad. He's growing up. And while I'm so thrilled the allergy is gone, it means so is my baby.

So we had a little talk yesterday about the Mac-Milk. I showed him what was in the fridge and told him when those were gone there was no more Mac-Milk. He's a big boy now and doesn't need it. He seemed a little sad at no more, but I think he got it. And he's very excited about REAL Chocolate Milk.

And I'm also excited to get my fridge space back.

The First Day of School

First off - My sweet little red-headed newborn starts Kindergarten next year. I am baffled. I can't believe this is her 3rd and final year of Preschool!

But the kids started school yesterday. Mac in 3K and SB in 4K. I started them both in the 2-year-old class. It's been amazing watching their progress over the past few years.

SB is so terribly bright. She's very smart, she loves to learn and "loves homework."
Mac has come so far. He's so inquisitive and sops up new stuff like a sponge!

All parents think their children are prodigies. I am no exception. They both have their strengths, but I know both have their weaknesses as well. I think Mac will be an expert at problem solving. He's very hands-on and will learn best that way. Where I think SB is a thinker - she loves to write and work numbers. Both of them love patterns and rhythms.

I'm so thankful for their Preschool. It's a wonderful Christian environment and I wish we had the funds to send them to the private Christian K-12 next year, but I don't foresee that happening (esp. with Mac being just a year behind - so double the price in two years).

So here's a picture - and bonus of the last two years...

2011-2012 school year

2010-2011 school year

2009-2010 school year... my how she's grown!

Where have my babies gone?

The Disappointment

I couldn't be more disappointed in Mac after this weekend.
He voluntarily had his picture taken with a clown.

When we walked into this particular McDonald's, a man walking out said, "You're just in time to see Ronald McDonald."
Seriously - I saw spots. I felt my knees go weak.

I hid behind Marshall. I shoved my costume-scared child in front of me to catch the attention of said clown and hid.

I just wanted to get behind Marshall, get our lunch, eat and get out. I thought maybe the offender was packing up to leave, but Noooo - he was there the ENTIRE TIME. I kept my head down, ate quickly and kept telling the kids, "Eat! Eat! Let's go!"

Now, Mr. McDonald was very nice. He gave every child stickers and a little coloring book with a two-sided crayon. They kids were quite happy. SB stayed slightly clear, but allowed him to give her the sticker and prize bag. But otherwise she remained shy.

Mac on the other hand was thrilled. He was giving Ronald McDonald High-Fives, he wanted to follow him around. He was in high heaven.

I've never been so disappointed in one of my children before. Seriously. It pained me when he wanted a picture with Ronald McDonald. I had to close my eyes and hope my picture was in frame.

So, with a serious case of the heebee-jeebees, I shake my head in shame. My son likes clowns.

It's Official

I feel like I'm doing a lot of Mac blogging lately, but he's been a trooper these last few weeks.

His latest accomplishment: the potty. He's been #1 trained for about 6 months, but the #2s were the bane of my existence for those 6 months. Actually, with all his digestive issues, his poo has been a topic of conversation in our house from the day he came home 2.5 years ago.

But today he did Poop #10 in the potty, where I declared him officially potty trained! Whew!

Mac and his celebratory Mobigo!

They Said This Might Happen...

I was told this could happen when it came to Mac's allergies.

I don't want to speak too soon for fear of being wrong...so come close and let me whisper this...

I think he's outgrowing his allergies. Shhhh. Don't jinx it! Moms of allergic kids know what I mean - it's a big deal.

When he was diagnosed, we were told he was allergic to all dairy, soy, almonds, beef, pork & turkey. Now, the turkey was very mild. He's eaten it all along. The pork and beef gave him some very bad excema. The dairy and soy were the big issue with the GI problems.

So since October of 2009 we've avoided giving him all that fun stuff. It's not been easy. Ice cream at parties? Nope, not at our house. Those all-beef hotdogs that are all the rage right now? We got all chicken dogs. Seriously, I didn't like them. After one package I started getting Mac the chicken and the rest of us regular dogs. We cook with ground turkey. Making mashed potatoes required using rice milk and dairy/soy free butter substitute. We made concessions and changed a lot of things in our diets.
And of course we didn't mind - Mac is our son and if changing our eating habits made him healthier, we were all for it (and if it gave us benefits as well, all the better!)

About a year later we started giving Mac pork products - chops, bacon, pepperoni, etc. No problems arose. We were very excited. We're still cautious, limiting pork to once a week, but he can eat it.
Then we tried beef. Mac wound up with a nasty excema rash on his face (why does it have to be on his face?). Okay, still no beef.

We've left it at that for a long while. Keeping him clear of dairy, soy and beef (the almond thing never did much - we don't eat a lot of almonds...but it was a very mild allergy).

One of our favorite places of Chick-Fil-A. The kids like to trade in their book for the treat. SB gets ice cream and Mac gets a little bowl full of cherries. He loves his cherries. And as he would give SB a few cherries, she would give him a lick of ice cream. Until I notice that it didn't do anything to him digestively.
So last week we went to play putt-putt and got ice cream. Mac got one of those GIANT lollipops. But we decided to experiment. He had several spoonfuls of ice cream. I waited with baited breath. Nothing happened.
So I went out and got Cheeto's. Something we all love but I never got - cheesy crackers and snacks. Mac has been eating Cheeto's for two days and he's been fine.

I'm still waiting to see what happens. I might be setting my son up for a big downfall. But then again, maybe we can start keeping ice cream in the house again. And having regular milk and eating pizza with cheese on it.

I'm hoping I'm right. I'm praying my son is finally outgrowing his allergy. We were told most kids outgrow these allergies by age 3. If they are not outgrown by age 5 they are probably life-long. Please, let this season of allergies be over for my sweet boy!

Mac eating a Cheeto - powdered cheesy goodness

Chivalry Isn't Dead

At least I hope Chivalry isn't dead. I would agree that it's dying, but in my little corner of the world, I demand that my son will help it live on.

When the kids go through a door I make Mac hold it open for SB. I ask him to defer to her and other girls on some decisions. I make him say "Yes Ma'am" and "No Ma'am." (and Sir. And I also make SB do that, too.)

It something I see less and less of in young males. Is it a regional thing? I don't know. But where I am boys and young men do not hold open doors for ladies. They don't use polite language or allow ladies to go first. They don't offer girls the first or last bite of food or the choice seat or what have you.

This was brought to my attention this week at church. I had a group of 4 and 5 year olds with me - all of which needed to go to the bathroom. The boys muscled their way to the front of the line in front of the girls.

"Nope, boys," I said. "You will wait and let the girls go first." They were astonished. Let the girls go first? Was I crazy?
A parent nearby commented that she had never heard someone make the boys wait for the girls before. Or anything else chivalrous.

"I teach my son to be a gentleman," I responded. "He holds the door, he allows his sister the first pick of strawberries and he lets his girl friends go before him."

What I didn't add, that I should have, is that God also instructs men to love his wife the way Christ loved the church. Christ was the servant of the church - He washed the church's feet. He healed the sick, he prayed for those who needed it. Christ was the original Gentleman. And the church was his bride. I want my son to know that he is to serve his bride (and all women) the way Christ served His bride - the church.

Do he always do so obligingly? No. He complains. But I'm teaching him to be a gentleman the way God designed it and that's worth all the complaints in the world. One day his wife will thank me for it!

The Dance Recital

The children had their first dance recitals this weekend. I was very worried about their performances - mainly SB's affinity for bursting into tears unprompted.

First let me point out that their recitals were on different days. Mac's was Saturday and SB's was Sunday. I was not too pleased with this, alas there was nothing I could do about it.

Mac, for his part, was the ham he always is. He did not do their little dance, and when it came to the actual tumbling, he was more prone to running across the stage than rolling. He did fine with the forward roll, but then decided that the not-quite-a-cartwheel hoppy thing was not worth his time and he went running from his instructor. 

Mac was "caught" on stage 3 or 4 times. He would run from one and another would catch him. At one point four different instructors were chasing him down! 

The entire audience was cracking up at his antics. I heard people rows behind us exclaiming, "Isn't that little boy adorable?" Yes, yes he is. 

I have to say I was rather proud of Mac. No, he didn't listen to his teachers, but he got out there and did HIS thing. And he is definitely the class clown. Maybe we need to find a mini-improv group...

Mac actually rolling

Escape!

Gotcha!

Running across the stage - again!

Now, SB's recital was Sunday. I was petrified she wouldn't even get up on the stage...I think we were all worried that our little red-head would decide that she was just fine without going in front of the crowd, thank you very much. 
But she was great. Backstage when I got her dressed she was ready and raring to go. I had to keep telling her to be patient. She even kept attempting to do a straddle splits while waiting (she was pretty good!). 
She got out on that stage and she strutted her stuff. I think I held my breath the whole time. I was never worried about Mac being on stage, but SB is my more cautious and worrisome child - I was scared and nervous for her! But she was fine and afterward was so excited, I think she wanted to do it again. I could have cried that she was so excited over her performance.

SB and her rainbow class

She said dancing backwards was tricky!

Oh, she is so cute and did wonderfully!

Now, this pic is blurry, but I just love what this shows! She did it! I am so proud of her!

It's amazing the different emotions I felt as each of my children took to the stage. With Mac I was never concerned, not nervous at all. I knew he would be a natural, and he was. With SB I admit I was nervous! I wasn't she she would even get on the stage. But she did beautifully. 
I'm reminded of just how much my babies are growing up. No longer babies, are they? I'm always amazed by what they do and how they do it. 
Both of my children are so talented. They love to perform and this was their first HUGE audience (and it was huge - standing room only). I hope they have many, many more years of doing what they love.