Boys, Moms & Graffiti– A Story of Love

Right after our laughing fit about the Juvi Christmas Jammies, my cousin went on to tell me why this comment from Pete was more funny than we thought.  She started telling us about him “tagging” the shed by the middle school while his dad was coaching his brother at football practice.  We were cracking up listening to the story and I told her that she really needed to document this one.  So the other day she did.  It turned out to be much more tender than funny as I read through it.  I asked her for permission to share it on my blog, because this is really what being a “good parent” is all about– taking the bad times with the good and knowing how to teach your children right from wrong, even when it is ripping you up inside.

I know.  I’ve walked through the valley of Hell with a child of  my own.  But these are the moments that we truly teach our children how to step up and take responsibility for their life,  to not blame things on others, and to just do the right thing even though it is hard.

I know you’ll love this story.  Here’s my cousin’s post:

Not Our Finest Moment

Sometimes I get a tired of looking at blog’s and seeing all the perfect things that are going on in other people’s lives, perfect trips, perfect parties, perfect Halloween costumes, perfect Christmas, perfect perfect, perfect…. Usually that is how my blog looks, I don’t really want to remember the poop all over my floor from a sick child, or the not so perfect report card, or that my child isn’t the best at sharing. I could go on and on here…  I like the rest of the blog-world sugar coat our lives. It could appear that our family runs very smooth, we do have a few deaths once in a while but other than that, we go from one party to the next sporting event all singing and laughing as we go. Ha! Well I think it’s time to get real, our lives are NOT like that, we have our struggles along with all the fun stuff.  This day back in September was not our finest moment!Pete will kill me if he knew I put this on here, so if by chance you see him, DO NOT bring this up! He feels super bad about the whole deal but for the sake of our family history it’s gotta be here. So if you are reading this, I trust you not to tell him.

One morning in September while I was driving the boys to school Pete asked me “Mom what happens if you spray paint on a building?

Pete got out of the car reluctantly and walked to class.After school we drove down to the middle school. On the way Pete asked “Mom if I go to “Juvi” (he calls Juvenile Detention, “Juvi.” His Grandma works at the court and he has picked up on few things! ) will you bail me out?”

I about lost it. This wasn’t a little line or just a little bit of spray paint. This was a work of art!! An SC with the Warrior Head and then the word Warriors was started, but then I am sure he got distracted. We had to go into the school and let the Vice Principal know, this part was really hard. Pete was crying so hard, and because he was I started tearing up too. We talked to him for awhile, he let Pete know that the cops at the school had already seen it, and talked about it. He told him if he was older and knew what he was doing he could be in a lot of trouble. At this point Pete was sobbing. I felt so bad for him. We told the VP Pete would clean it up, but he said the custodian had a chemical that would take it off and not to worry. Pete left there feeling relieved, he thought a week of being grounded was a lot better than spending a few nights in Juvenile Detention. It turned out to be a good learning experience for all of us. He now knows if he finds spray paint, let me know and I’ll get him some paper or something to paint on, he won’t be using a building as his canvas anytime soon!

I’m not sure I read the fine print when I decided to become a Mother, I thought it was all about changing their clothes and going to the park. Being a parent is HARD, I learned that this day. I also learned that I can’t bail my kids out of their problems, but I will be right by their side walking through the fire with them. I love my kids so much and hope I can teach them right from wrong even if that mean learning a few things the hard way.

Granddaughter’s Day at the Dentist

I received a call the other day from my daughter.  The conversation went something like this:

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“You need to talk to your granddaughter!  We’re at the dentist and she’s pitching a fit and I need you to calm her down.”

“Ok….”  I said, chuckling to myself.

“I’m liking this role…”  I think in my mind.

Princess P gets on the phone….

“Hey sweetie!!  How are you?  Are you having a great day?”  I ask.

I heard some low grumbles on the other end.

“Have you been playing with your baby dolls?…..”

“My mom’s in TROUBLE!”

“You’re mom’s in trouble?  How come?”  (I’m trying not to laugh too hard.)

“She’s fighting me!!”"

I start cracking up and my daughter says, “we have to go.  They’re here.”

Still laughing over that conversation.

Grocery Store Saga– guns and jerky

Can any of you actually stand to read another round of “As the Webster’s Turn?”  Some days I think I am on this merry-go-round that won’t quit and I just want to yell, “STOP THE WORLD!  I NEED TO GET OFF!”   Maybe if I hollered “OR I’M GOING TO PUKE!”  someone would listen…..but here I still sit with 5 – six foot tall  mounds of laundry, and the only thing that loves me enough to cling to me is cellulite and a three year old!  And since I am so full of “love” (read—cellulite) right now my mid-life crisis body and I would like to share our week with you!

Monday—I can hear all of you saying right now “cleaned the house.”  And you are right!!!  However, I did go to the grocery store, too.  My record is getting better, too!  I almost got OUT of the store with out the two littles causing a major ruckus.  I was in the check out line!!!  Almost out of the store!!!  BJ Dude was being good and helping me unload the food.  He was holding jerky in his hand that was his “treat” for being good in the store.  Cinco’s treat had already gone through and he started to panic that BJ Dude wasn’t going to put his jerky on the belt, so he grabbed the jerky out of BJ Dude’s hand to put in on the counter when BJ Dude all but tackled him and choked him to get it back.  So Cinco took the $1 plastic machine gun that was his “treat” and whacked BJ Dude over the head with it—all the while screaming at each other.

Fortunately, only two or three checkers, two or three baggers, and the people behind me in the checkout line noticed and commented on the event—that was after their oooh’s and ooooo’s and oowww’s.

This particular moment is the double-edged sword of motherdom!    You don’t know if you’re with the “that kid needs a good spanking” group or the “if she lays a hand on that kid I’m calling Social Services” group.

It’s at those precious moments that you feel like there’s a big neon light over your head with an arrow pointing down at you flashing in hot pink neon “BAD MOM!”

Resisting the urge to jerk them both up by the seat of their pants and kick their little butts through the door for embarrassing me like that, I grabbed Cinco firmly by the arm and with that clenched teeth smile “whispered” something to the effect that he was a dead man when we got home.  I tried to rub BJ Dude’s head and get that stupid jerky scanned and run out of the store.  I kept waiting for the announcement over the intercom “Code Black and Blue on checkout 5!”   Of course, the bagger was an older man who was so kind to help me all the way to the car. (The young kids never want to help.)  He did offer some kind of words but I was caught between sheer anger and embarrassment.

I ranted and raved all the way home in the car.  Trying to explain to a three year old how much trouble he’s in is not very effective, in case any of you were wondering.  By the time I got home and was going to throw Cinco’s fanny in his room.  He kept saying, “but I told BJ Dude I was sorry.”  (Which he actually did while I was ranting in the car)  And, of course, BJ Dude had accepted the apology.  These two had resolved the problem before I entered the driveway.

Which is the second problem of motherdom—do you throw them in their room or melt like a popsicle because they were so nice to each other for 5 minutes?  There are just no books on these kinds of scenarios.  I think I still made Cinco have a little room time, but it’s true, I’m a marshmallow.  Plus I had all those groceries to unload.  Written 1/18/04

Laundry and kittens– what happens when Mom and Dad are Gone

And now for the famous “Only at the Webster’s…..”   (crazy things that I’m sure only happen here and no where else!)

MP and I came home from a wedding reception this particular Saturday night.  As we came in, Blondie came running up to us and said, “it was an accident, I promise!  Scout put his pants in the dryer and turned it on.  He came back in a few minutes later and heard the kitty crying.  She was in the dryer.  She is okay.  I promise, he didn’t know she was in there!”

Now really, does this kind of stuff EVER happen anywhere else?  We did feel sorry for the kitty when we adopted her, but we thought we were improving at our house!  This is definitely a good place for “Survivor” to be filmed!  Either that or another “Griswold family movie!”    Yep—no fire this week, but we did survive the dryer!  And I might add that she is nice and fluffy.  Poor kitty—Doodle Bug traumatized her earlier by giving her a bath.  Guess we should have thought of the dryer after her bath—just kidding!  Life is just one adventure after another, huh????  Written 1/11/04

Pictures with Toddlers– It doesn’t get anymore fun than that!

I think I mentioned before the exciting time we had trying to get Cinco to take his picture…..he turned around and covered his face and told us “no” and wouldn’t smile, so we took a picture of him trying not to smile-semi grouchy face. Well, the pictures came back this week.  And it looks just like him–trying not to smile.

The kids hand him the packet and he gets sooo excited,

“OOOHHHH, look!  It’s Cinco!!!”

Then he starts pulling the pictures out and realizes that there’s more pictures.

“OOHH!  Mom!  It’s a HUNDRED Cinco’s……”

(then he pulls out the little wallet ones)….he gets really excited and says, “SIX HUNDRED Cinco’s!!”

Boy was he thrilled!  The whole time I’m thinking, “yeah, you little stinker!  NOW you like it!”  Isn’t that just the way it is…….. Gotta love pictures with toddlers!!  Written 10/5/03

Mom Moments– gashes and throw up

Cinco wasn’t feeling too great, but wanted to go to the grocery store with me, so I took Mykelle along to help.  BJ Dude came too.  Just after we got in the store, BJ Dude was kind of running back and forth by my cart, and it looked like he was kind of annoying a lady close by.  I told him to stop goofing off, then turned to grab some lettuce.  I heard a ‘bonk’ and BJ Dude had grabbed his forehead crying.  I told him that it served him right and let him think for a minute or two.  Two aisles later, he took his hand off his head and he had blood down his hands and arm and had wiped it in his eye!  He had a little cut on his forehead.  It was deep enough for stitches, but only wide enough for a couple (about the width of one of the little metal things on the grocery carts).  Doodle Bug took him to the bathroom to clean him off, then we put a bandaid on it.  I bought some butterflies and fixed it.

We came home from the store, put groceries away, then headed to Shotgun’s football game.  Cinco still didn’t feel great, but played on the playground anyway.  After Shotugn’s game (they won– he scored one touchdown), we piled in the car and stopped at Sonic for a burger on our way to the girls games.  We waited forever (15 minutes) for our food.  Just after she brought it to us, Cinco threw up in the car.

Just another day in the life of a mother.  Written 10/25/03

What happens in Vegas…..

So last night BJ Dude called and wanted to go to Antigravity with his friends.  (Antigravitiy is a huge trampoline jumping place in town.)  MP was giving him all the correct parent counsel:

“Now be good.  Be safe.  Don’t get into any trouble…..”

BJ Dude cut in and said, “Dad, we’re going to Antigravity, not VEGAS!”

hahaha…..

And THANK HEAVENS for that!!!  Love that kid!!

Laundry 101: What NOT to do

The other day, Cinco (11) decided to wash his laundry For some random reason, BJ Dude (13) decided to throw his backpack in with his brother’s load. I only know about this because of the screaming I heard and this placed before my face:

Yes, that is his Sunday shirt.  Yes, that is Pink Highlighter.

It turns out that BJ Dude emptied out his papers and books, but left everything else:

Yes, that is pens, pencils, Highlighters, glue sticks, deodorant, erasers, wisp toothbrushes, magnetic oval thingies, permanent sharpies.  Oh yeah, this is what I pulled OUT of the washer after I got all the clothes out.  Those are PIECES of the highlighters, the rest came out wrapped in the clothes all broken up.

And here’s the rest of the damage.  I spent over an hour soaking and scrubbing trying to spare the other shirts and shorts.  Seriously, how do you not want to steal all your kid’s money to go repurchase new clothes and want to throttle him besides??!!    I was seething after scrubbing for so long my arms hurt.

But alas, I decided the best approach was to chuck the Sunday shirt (I will have to buy a new one of that) and take pictures and post about it.  It seems to ease the frustration, I suppose– sharing my laundry grieviences with you all.

I still cannot figure out why you would put a back pack in with clothes anyway because of the damage it could do from the weight of it.

Oh well, lesson learned, I hope.

1.  Pink highlighter does NOT come out very well.

2.  Blue highlighter comes out better

3.  DO NOT put backpacks in with regular laundry

4.  If you do put your back pack in with regular laundry, PLEASE get EVERYTHING out!

*deep sigh*  I feel better now, getting that off my chest.

Take a Number…..

BJ Dude: Mom, Did you remember to buy my Slim Jim?
Me: No, son, I forgot.
BJ Dude: How could you forget? I reminded you over and over! You let me down!
Me: Well, get in line and take a number!
BJ Dude: *looks at Shotgun* My number’s 1!

Dislocated Elbows and Brave Young Men pt. 1

I’m finally taking a few minutes to share our “arm experience” with BJ Dude. It was just a nice evening for some football. BJ Dude loves football and was having a good time. The team was lined up just short of the goal line, and BJ Dude was given the ball (he’s #40). He is powering through determined to get in the end zone when he got tripped up. He put his arm down to catch him and it wasn’t so good. Here’s the video clip. Warning: Although you can’t see his arm at all, it is still somewhat graphic knowing the outcome.

Now as I was watching the play live, I saw him place his arm and saw him twist and immediately thought, “uh oh. I hope that’s just a stinger.” Couldn’t have been more wrong. I sat and watched him lay there not moving. I knew it had to be pretty sore since he’s a tough kid who can’t stand not playing. He kept laying there. I waited for the coaches to go make an assessment. As the coaches and some others ran over to him, one of the coaches immediately turned to the stands and said, “Webster’s come here.” I knew then it was an “obvious” injury. Thinking it must be a break , MP and I hurried down on the field. A paramedic had just come over and was able to roll him over on his back just as I got there. I didn’t get to see the ugly arm twisted off the side look going on. Probably a good thing.

Here’s what we were looking at when I got there.

The paramedic guy was trying to support his arm and try to keep him out of pain while we decided what to do. Although I felt very calm, it was clear my mind wasn’t working and it was hard to think. I told MP to call Dr. Parry, who is a friend in our ward. MP realized it was Tuesday and surgery day. I told him to at least text him or he would be mad at us. In the meantime, the pre-diagnosis was a dislocation but possibly a break. I thought that if it was a dislocation, I’d just call our friend who is a chiropractor and have him come and put it in. I sent my Doodle Bug (who had wandered down on the field) to get the number from his neighbor in the stand. Then my brain kicked in and I realized that he wouldn’t touch it without an xray, so wouldn’t do any good to call him. So then we tried to call our friend that works on the ambulance crew. I tried his wife’s cell but didn’t get her.

The paramedic there said, that we really had no choice but to have him transported by ambulance because of the severity of the injury. So I called 911.

As soon as I had given 911 all the info and the ambulance was dispatched, our friend on the Ambulance crew showed up. Someone in the stands had gotten a hold of him. He came with his bag, assessed the situation and told us that we really did need to transport him by ambulance, which was comforting to us. He then began to splint his arm to stabilize it.

No sooner had he finished, then the ambulance showed up. They wouldn’t even consider moving him until they had given him an IV for pain.

They wouldn’t even lift him onto a stretcher. (Which reminds me, someone had gone into the school to get a table to move him off the field and they wouldn’t even do that.) So they got a stretcher that split in half, slid it under him, then clamped it together to lift him onto the bed to transport him. Here is everyone clapping for him as they lifted him onto the bed. I don’t know if they were just happy to be moving on, as we had started the game 45 minutes late and then laid on the 1 yard line for another 30 minutes after he got hurt. Yes, the 1 yard line. That made him as sad as his arm being hurt.

Here is our first ever ride in an ambulance. Hopefully, it is our last. This is my view from the front. For some reason, I hit a button that made the picture black and white. I didn’t even know that feature existed. It took me a few minutes to figure out how to get it off, as you will see.

At the hospital unloading and heading to ER.

Figured out how to get the black and white off….

Notice the stretcher…

Story continues….