Conversations.

• Mom, when I put my head on my pillow, it is like something is going to grab me. - Tripp (My reply? If you don't get your butt in bed, I am fixin' to grab you). He ran.



• Mom, when are you going to die? - Tripp



• Momma, when I get big, can I still get in your bed and cuddle you? - Tripp
  


• Momma... even when I am 65 or when I am in college I will always be your be-be. Even when your under the ground. - Tripp



• Tripp, what am I going to do with you? His reply? I don't know, Mom. What ARE you going to do with me?

Exactly.

That boy. That boy holds my heart. He absolutely kills me with his mannerisms, his kisses and his wit and charm. He is a smart a**. There is no denying who fathered this kid.

Thanksgiving week.

Well, this coming week is Thanksgiving. I am thankful that it is a short week... only two days of school. I am excited about a little homework break.

Today, Dave took all five kids for the entire day so I could study. I got SO MUCH stuff done. Lesson plans, tests, papers, a start on my thematic unit... ah, it feels good. Maybe, just maybe, I will squeeze by with no homework tomorrow. Wouldn't that be something?

I have scheduled all five kids to have pictures made for next Saturday. We are about a month later than usual. I should have them back in a week... in time to order Christmas cards. I hope. I had just about decided not to send out Christmas cards this year (the expense!) but when I made that suggestion, Dave squished up his nose at me. :)

I have all of the Christmas ornaments in the boxes sitting here. I just don't know where to put the tree up at. We are having a room added on and the construction started last week. Sometime, I need to find paint, light fixtures and flooring. I know that by next weekend, weather permitting, it will be a disaster here. Oh, I also need to find more furniture. Maybe we will just sit in lawn chairs.

I guess that my tomorrow will be pretty busy. Tripp has a fever of 101. I hope he is not coming down with strep again.

Love.

Tonight, as I was studying, Tripper came up to me.
I asked him, "Hey Tripper, can you get your jammies on for me?"
He replied, "Hey Mom, you know what you can do for me?"
Scared, I answered with a, "Um, what?" He says, so sweetly, "You can give me a kiss."

So I picked him up and proceeded to kiss his face all over.

As I held him like a sweet little baby, I asked him the same question I seem to ask all the time:

"Tripper, how long are you going to be my bebe?"

He held up his still chubby little hand, with his thumb out and his pointer finger up, making a L shape. He said, "This long."

"How long is that, Tripp?" I asked.

"That is forever, Momma. Even when I am in college."

And that is Love.

Phone Calls.

Last night - about 10:30'ish - Tripper calls his Grandma and sugar coats his voice.

T - Hello Grandma...
G- Hiiiii Tripp.....
T- Grandma, can I tell you something?
G- Yes, Tripp?
T- I love you.....
G- I love you too, Tripp....
T-Can I come spend the night with you?
G-Yes, Tripp....

At that point, Tripp turns to his daddy, and goes, "Ha HAAAAAA!"

And just like that, she was suckered into The Tripper Sweet Talk.

From there, the kid runs around the house with a Wal-Mart bag, gathering clothes. So, he came and told me what he was doing, and as he was talking, the joy was all over his face. He was so animated that his eyebrows raised by themselves, one by one, while he was showing me who the boss was in this house.

Now, Grandma lives two houses down from us. This is fabulous because 1. When the kids want to see her at 10:30 at night, I go outside my back door, she goes to her side door, we both turn lights on, and wave! 2. I love the fact that my children have a great set of grandparents who spend time with them- the more people who love you, the better off you are, right? 3. It is just really fun!

I made Tripper do a repeat phone call, complete with his dialing the numbers himself. (Yey! He knows his numbers!) I listened to the whole sweet conversation again. Then I talked to her. Then, I took that sweet little boy to the back door and watched him walk to His Grandma, with Emma's princess sword in hand - for light and protection. And he had a good night.

My last day.

Today is the last day that I have with my small kids.
Tomorrow, Tripp goes to Pre-K.
Then, the following day, Emma starts her real kindergarden year.

All week, these kids have been at work with me. Grandma is out of town, David is working.

I listen to them playing. Right now, they are playing a game where Tripp is going to his girlfriend's house and Emma is going to pick him up after she texts him. They have "cellphones" and are taking pictures of each other. Wouldn't it be nice to be so carefree?

Starting tomorrow, they are going to make new friends. They are going to have new adventures. They will have new stories to tell. Their days will not be with each other anymore. I know they were separated last year, but that was by choice. I can't help but feel a little sad at the fact that they are growing up so quickly.

Instead of working, I would like to go home and lay in the floor, and play matchbox cars and barbies and eat happy meals. I think I might cry later. Or now.

Out for blood.

Last night, Tripp, Emma and Mallie were playing in the bathroom.
Emma did not want Tripp around.

So, she kicked him in the stomach. He, in turn, bit her on the chest when she tried to hug him and tell him she was sorry.

Screaming like there was something really happening was what I heard first. It took me close to 30 minutes to figure out the story. They were telling it at the same time, while Mallie stood back looking pleased that she kept out of the fight. After all the tears were dried and everyone got an icepack for their injury, I showed Tripp what her bite mark looked like.

Today, when I came home from work, I looked at Emma's purple and green mouthprint Tripp had left on her chest.
I made Emma show it to Tripp. I told him that this is what happens when you bite. It hurts friends.

He told me, "Thats because I am a vampire. I told you I am a vampire."

A few minutes later, she took a toy from him. As I sat and listened to them playing, I heard him say to her, "Do you want me to bite you again?"

Bedtime.

Last night, I was blessed with being able to hold Emma as she went to sleep. This is a rare occurance anymore, usually by bedtime I am ready for them to go and try not to give them time to dwadle. (Is this a word, anyways?) After she went to sleep, I looked at her sweet face and realized how big she is getting. Her hair is so thick, her eyelashes are so long. I notice that day by day how her expressions and mannerisms are changing.

She is becoming a big girl. I am so proud that I have a daughter.

Eli picked her up out of my lap and carried her upstairs to her room. Following this, Tripp climbed up in my lap and then he told me he was ready to go to sleep. He does this new thing with his belly - when he wants something, his belly talks to you. He makes his belly button the mouth and he always begins by saying "My belly says..." and it usually ends with "I am hungry" or "I am thirsty" or "I want some red juice." This comes out in a nice, growl -y voice.

So, last night after he told my "My belly says I am sleepy," I carried him upstairs and I laid down with him. And we talked. He told me the story of Goldilocks and the three bears. And he got it right.

When I put the kids to bed, they ask me to come back "just one more" oh, about fifty times.
I usually just walk away. But last night, since I did not have two children in competition with each other, and I went back twice for that ""just one more." What a blessing I got when I went back.

Tripp says to me "bend down and give me your ear." So I did, thinking he was going to whisper one of his secrets. Instead, he gave me a kiss on the cheek. As I melted in a puddle on the floor, I kissed his cheek back. He lifted his little hand and rubbed his cheek where I kissed. And then he told me " I wanted to keep it, Mom."

What a Good Night.

Conversations.

Today, I took the kids with me to work... Tripp was feeling really rambunctious, which is not unusual. After running wide open in the church and being scolded several times, I took him to the bathroom. I stood him on the counter and I told him to look at me. in the eyes.

The conversation went something like this:

Me: Tripp, you look at me when I am talking to you.
Tripp: yes, yes ma'am.
Me: Tripp, I want to know why you don't listen to me when I tell you to stop. I want you to calm down. Now, tell me why you don't listen to me.
Tripp: Well, it is just my brain.
Me: What does your brain do?
Tripp: It tells me not to listen.

What am I gonna do with this kid?

Happy Birthday to my Be-Be.

Tripp arrived on June 5th, 2005 at about 6 a.m. in the morning.
It was magical.

In the end, all things worked out. Dave was there. He did all the wonderful, supportive stuff he does every time we have a new baby. He held my hand. He kissed my forehead. He told me he loved me.

In the operating room, I told Dr. Terry a big "I told ya so." He asked me if I picked up those new Oreo's at Wal-Mart the night before. I musta just missed them.

Tripp had the cord wrapped around his neck either three or four times. Dr. Terry announced it in his doctor jib jab, and unfortunately I understood his medical terminology. I had a moment of panic, then the baby cried, I cried, and the world was OK.

I thought I would be smart and so I requested NO MORPHINE because I got fever blisters when I had Emma (and was told that it was from the morphine). Boy, was I stupid. Who has a C-Section with no morphine? This request only lasted just an hour or so. By time I got back to my regular room (which combined with recovery time) I was M.I.S.E.R.A.B.L.E. And then, the nurse laid the drugs to me. Wheee!

I looked at my sweet little boy, the baby who looked like a baby version of my sweet Dave, and I was IN LOVE. Some mothers talk about falling in love with their children over a period of time. Some fall instantly. Well, I fell hard - right then.

As with all my kids, I held that connection when he was born.

Over the last four years, I have completely enjoyed being Tripper-Do's mother. He is wonderful. He makes me laugh. I enjoy his temperament. I love him just because he looks like his daddy. They have the same personalities, the same mannerisms, the same smirks. Every one of these four years have been wonderful.

I love you so much, Tripp. You will always be my be-be.

The Night Before Tripp Was Born. Part 2 of THE SAGA

June 4, 2005

In the early afternoon, the contractions started again. I knew that this time, I was having a baby. So I started getting ready. I vacuumed out the van. I ironed all of Emma's clothes for the week. About six that night, I took Emma and Eli and we went and got groceries at Wal-Mart.

While I was there, I ran into Dr. Terry.

I told him that I would see him in a few hours. He just laughed.

My contractions became much worse over time. I knew that Dave would be home about midnight, and I did not know if I would make it that long. I put the kids to bed about nine. Then I showered, put the finishing touches on my bag, and got comfy in my mu-mu. And I waited.

Around 11 p.m., Dave called. He was going to be home soon! When he drug himself in a few minutes later, I could tell how tired he was. So, I did not say anything yet. But I knew it wouldn't be long.

He walks by me in the laundry room, rubs the baby and says,"Boy, your belly is tight." So I say, "That's because I am in labor."

I would like to say that he ignored me, but that may be a little inaccurate. Maybe he was just hoping it wasn't true.

So then he says, "Are ya hungry?" So I cook him a cheap pizza. And he ate it. And I think I was baking cookies, too. And he ate those, too.

After some time, he turns to me and says, "You ready to go to bed?"
And then I say, "Buddy, your not gettin' it. I am in labor."
And he says, "Don't you think your are over-exaggerating?"

And I killed him. Well, not really. But I could have.
So, he gets his paper. And he starts to time my contractions.
And then he says, "well, they are 5 minutes apart." Surprise!
And then he says, "You ready to go to bed?"
And then I say, "I am calling your mother. I am having his baby tonight. You can go to bed and call me in the morning. I am going to the hospital."

We called my sweet mother in law. She came over and looked like, well, like she had just been woke up at 3 a.m. A little shocked, but a lot excited, too.

And off to the hospital we went.

Dave carried in his laptop so he could catch up on some paperwork. And, he took the papers from the previous week, so he could catch up on the latest going-ons of the town.
Imagine his surprise - about 5 a.m. - when Nurse Amanda says, "well, you are having a baby.
In about an hour."

****disclaimer****

This story is told to the best of my recollection... I was in labor. It hurt a lot. Like, really bad.

The Mommy Club. And what is important.

During all the years that I have been a mother, there has always seemed to be some sort of standards for mothers from those in particular groups that I have hung out with. For example, in the past five years, I have observed the importance of these things:

1. What does your husband do/how much money does he earn?
2. Where does your children go to school/what preschool are they going to attend?
3. What type of diaper bag do you carry?
4. What brand of dress is your daughter wearing?
5. Do you have cool sippy cup labels?
6. Whose child is the prettiest/best behaved/smartest?

Yes, the list goes on and on. It just changes with the age of the kid(s) in question.

Once I got "out of the loop" and became different than other "mommies in the club" by going to work and school, it seems that I have changed in caring of what the other mom's thought of me.

For example, when Emma was one (!) I was asked at a playgroup by a group of mothers "where I had her on the list for preschool." Well, I had no list. I didn't know about a list. How could I not know about a list?!?

See, such things were always important to me. I just recently (well, as recent as today, in fact) figured out that I have always based my capabilities of being a good mother on keeping up with or outdo-ing others.

That is not what makes a good mother at all.

A good mother is made up of time, hugs and kisses, playing, cuddling and listening. There are so many qualities that make up a good mother. But, the type of dress, type of minivan, and type of activities do not define a good mother. What a relief it is for me to have this realization.

How did I come to this conclusion, you ask?

Well, as Tripp turns four this Friday, I am preparing for his birthday party - but I just started today. This is foreign for me. I am always months ahead in planning, down to the theme-matching outfit, color coordinated goody bag contents, and the coordinated brother-sister outfits. Yet today, my dad had (yet another) heart procedure, summer school has just started, my house is a wreck and I work a full time job.

As I started with the goody bags, I had an epiphany.

Tripp doesn't care.

The only person that cares is me.

The kids - as well as the party-goers - will not remember anything about the decorations, whether Tripp's swimming trunks matched his cake, or whether the color of the cups matched the color of the potato chips.

They will remember having fun.

Tripp will remember playing, laughing, and being with family and friends on such an important day.

And that is the most important thing. This knowledge will help me be a better mother.

Conversations.

The scene: Tripp is in my office. We are working on learning the letters of the alphabet. I am explaining to him that he has to learn his A,B,C's. He is resisting my teaching.

Me: "Tripp, you have to learn to write these."
Tripp: "I don't want to."

So, we keep writing, and he actually can do them by himself!

The deal with Tripp is, well, he seems to be ambidextrous. As he writes, he switches from right hand to left. So I ask him this.

Me: "Tripp, which hand feels better? The right hand or the left hand?"
Tripp: "No hands."

Later on that morning, Tripp is talking with a lady from our congregation who has a sick horse. He thinks it is funny. I tell him that "no, it is not funny. What if Harley was sick? What if Harley went to heaven? Would that be funny?"

Tripp says, "Well, where is horse heaven at?"

So much rain.

We are about to have to go swimming.

There is so much rain.. I am just sick of rain. All ball games have been cancelled for the day - this is a great thing as I am cleaning the house. The bad part is that by tomorrow, you won't be able to tell. It is almost a waste of time. Unfortunatelly, child protective services doesn't feel that way.

In other news, tomorrow is Mother's Day. I really enjoy this day because my children enjoy this day. As with all holidays, I could take 'em or leave 'em. But the kids enjoy making me things, and Emma is looking forward to making me breakfast tomorrow morning. Last year, she made it and I got up and got in the shower. It made her a little upset. This year, she has already told me to stay in bed. I love my kids so much.

Tripp on Mothers Day - 2 years ago. Looking at his belly button - he didn't know I was watching!

Last night, Dave and I went (last minute) and did the Ta-Ta Trot; this is a 5 K to raise money for Breast Cancer research. We didn't run - we walked together. I appreciated him doing this with me. After my bad week, it really helped to clear my mind. I have actually walked 7 miles this week. When I have lots going on, I tend to clean house really fast and furious, or I go walk.

Please keep my sweet Tripper Do in your prayers;

I know that God will take care of us regardless of any outcome.

One of my favorite older pictures. Feb 2007.

i guess you can tell i am out of school.

well, another post.. i can really tell i am out of school. sitting at work, all i can think about is mopping the floors in the kitchen. i was up this morning before six, doing the dishes, laundry and wishing i had a day off to hang out at the house by myself. with no kids. so i can clean, clean, clean.

i guess i am feeling a little overwhelmed. i hate this economy. someone told me it was getting better. where is that happening? it sure isn't anywhere i know. i can't even afford wal mart.. so so sad.

in protest of my lack of funds, i am going to not use any capitol letters anymore. i am tired of sticking my pinky finger out to hit the shift key. so no more caps for me. see? i made a rhyme. i can do that. because it is my blog. and if i say no caps, then no caps.

tripp has a doctors appointment in knoxville tomorrow. he is being tested for cystic fibrosis. i really like pretending that he never had the hiney issue.. yet, if there were actually something wrong with him, and i didn't follow thru, i would never forgive myself.

i think i just need to set down and cry.

tripp has been the kid with the weird things. when he was born at 37 weeks (to the day) he weighed 7 pounds and one ounce. that is a big baby for me. if i woulda went full term, he woulda been big. anyways, by time he was two months old, i noticed something funky going on with his head and neck. he couldn't hold it up. i showed dave, he thought i was post-partum crazy at first, then he started looking. so off we went to the doctor. turns out that tripp had torticollis and scoliosis. we did a year of therapy and he is as good as new. then, when he was two, he got a concussion at my inlaws. back in february, he slammed his peebird in the toilet.. that was an interesting trip to the emergency room. now, this hiney issue..

so, you see that tripp has been a trip.

tripp and the barbie.

so, tripp just approaches me with a barbie in one hand and the barbie's missing the skirt and undies in the other...

He hands her to me -

He says: "Fix this, mom."
I say: "What happened to her skirt and her panties, Tripp?"
And he says: "I was playing with her, and it was on accident."

Sayings.

Tripp's Favorite Song - it goes just like this:

I love rock and roll.
Put another dime in the jukebox baby.
I love rock and roll.
Tater tot, dance with me.
Bam!

Another Tripp saying - one Friday, he ran around all day saying:

Suck along, sucka.

I couldn't figure out WHAT he was saying. What I did know was that he was Hilarious.
I called everyone. I made him say it for them. It turned out that he was saying, "So long, sucker."

Another song his is singing alot is Pink - So What.
If I can figure out how to post a video of all his cute things, I will show it on here. Everyone should get a kick out of what this kid does.

Ball season is here! - part two..

Tripp's ball season started out with soccer... baseball doesn't start till the second week in May.

This kid is an athlete.. allbeit, a moody one. Aren't they all, though? I know that my true love Peyton Manning always has an intense look while he is playing the sacred game of football.. so I expect no less for my own son Tripp.

See his intense, blurry face?

Let's look and see how his morning went, shall we?

Oh, Coach Daddy - I don't want to do this. I need my Mommy.

And I don't want to leave your side. Please, Daddy, noooo!

Nevermind, Coach Daddy. I am off to score some goals!

(After Mommy walked him on the field)

Get outta my way, buddy!

He ended up playing a good game. I think he scored three or four.

What a helper.

Tripp lay down on the floor and Emma helped him put his socks and shoes on.

Tripp thinks
he looks like
"Mr. Crab" from
Spongebob.

What do you think?

Out of the mouth of David.

Here is a good conversation between Tripp and I. This happened Wednesday night during church.

Here's the scenario. During invitation, Tripp has to go potty (imagine that!). So, off we go to the nursery. And while he was in there, I decided to go to. He is only 3 and I pee in front of him all the time. I don't like it but I can't ever seem to go to the bathroom by myself. Anyways, I start to potty, and the conversation goes EXACTLY like this (I wrote it down).

Me: Tripp, this potty is cold on my hiney.
T: Yeah, cause your butt is so big.
Me: Tripp! Don't say that!
T: It is so big.
Me: Well, that hurts my feelings.
T: Well, it doesn't hurt mine.

Spoken like a true David. Tellin' it like it is.