Fantasy Falls trip in Gadsden

The boys and thier wonderful Nana!!

Jamming on the train to the music!

Brad went to the Mississippi State game on Saturday with one of his friends. That left me and the boys with a free day all to ourselves! Saturday evening, I took Tucker and Connor to my mom's house in Gadsden. We went to Fantasy Falls at Noccolula Falls. We had a great time!! My mom was in a wonderful mood and was in full Nana mode with the boys. There was not much to Fantasy Falls itself, but we had fun anyway. They had a train ride, inflatables that Tucker loved, and little games for them to play. There was a pumpkin carving table and some other little booths. Tucker was very excited about riding the train, so we had to do that first. The train started through the park, we had not gone far when it stopped inside a wooden tunnel, and the lights went out . I thought, "Oh no, Connor is going to start screaming now." I thought of the train at the zoo with the scary things that came at you and hung down from the ceiling. However, instead of a bogey man popping out at us, there were synchronized lights, like you would have on a Christmas tree, that were programmed to light up with the beat of music. The first song was the theme song from the Adam's Family. Mom and I both started laughing at that, because as a child, that was one of my favorite shows to watch in the afternoon after school. We didn't have Noggin back then. The second song was the theme to Ghost Buster's and Tucker and Connor both started rocking out to that one. Connor was in mom's lap and Tucker was beside her. Both of them were dancing in the seats! Mom got a kick out of it all. I kept looking behind the train, since we were in the last car, to make sure that Freddy Kruger was not coming after us. Thankfully, good ole Gadsden did not disappoint me by scaring my kids into never wanting to ride a train again. The songs kept coming, the lights kept blinking, and the boys kept smiling. After the tunnel, the train went on through the park itself. As a kid growing up in Gadsden, the Falls were one of my favorite places to go. My Granny lived close to them, in fact, you could actually hike up the bed of Black Creek to get to the falls, from her house. I have a lot of fond memories there of my Granny and my mom. I love the old log cabins that they have from back in the time of the first settlers. I used to like to walk into the church/school building and sit on a bench imagining what it must have been like back then. Of course, I pictured Little House on the Prairie, which was one of my favorite book series as a girl as well.
Riding on the train, in the dark with my boys and my mom while we looked upon familiar sights of my childhood made me feel a kind of sentimental happiness I can't really describe. I can't believe that I have never taken my children or Brad to Noccolula Falls before Saturday night, and have made a promise to myself that we will go again in the daytime this fall so that they can see all the park has to offer. I know now, that I took a lot of things from my home town for granted. Living in a bigger city, with less time to make the kind of memories that I was able to make in my childhood has made me appreciate the small town that I grew up in. I am jealous of all of my friends that are able to live and work in Gadsden. Their children get to go to schools that don't have 2000 kids in them, and they recognize most of the people they see at the grocery store. You don't get those experiences in a bigger city. Somehow the simple things in life turn hectic and unachievable, so you just skip them and move on to something bigger and better.
Maybe one day we can move our family back to Gadsden, but for now we are here and I am happy for the most part. I love our neighborhood, my friends, our home, and Tucker's school (even if it is big). God has blessed us with so much, and we can't even begin to understand why. We know that we don't deserve a bit of what he has given us. I only hope that in some way, I make him smile every day, because all of my smiles are because of Him.

Daddy Daycare

I had to work today and Brad took another vacation day to stay with Connor. Thankfully my dad and stepmom will be home on Sunday. Connor is going to be so happy to see his Mimi when she gets home! And Papa too of course! I have read various emails in which daddy's have been made out to be terrible babysitters. These emails were usually accompanied by pictures of children with food all over them, in toilets, eating out of dog bowls, etc. Thankfully our children are in better hands with their father. But not that much better. I drove into the garage tonight and climbed the stairs leading into our den and was met by a MSU football player screaming, "Mommy!!!" at the top of his lungs. I was face to face with a mean looking helmet complete with chin guard and a missing tooth lunging over the baby gate to give me a bear hug. This MSU player was no other than Tucker, my six year old. I looked over his shoulder as I was maneuvering my way over the baby gate to see my 17 month old, tee toddling over to me, blond curly hair bobbing, smiling, with a toothbrush in his mouth. Brad was lounging comfortably in our big comfy chair waving hello in an exhausted manner. Once I got a nice slobbery toothbrush kiss from Connor I asked my husband, "Where did he get the toothbrush?" His reply, "I don't know."
"Well, did he go upstairs?" I asked.
"I don't know." Brad said, thinking about it for a minute then said, "Maybe he did." Immediately a picture flashed through my mind of my precocious 17 month old prowling through the vanity cabinets in the boys bathroom which do not have safety locks on them because I don't keep anything dangerous in them. Or so I thought. The second string of questions directed at my husband came out in rapid fire, "Is this a new toothbrush? Did he get it out of a package? Or was it Tucker's? Is it wet?" All of my questions were met with, "I'm hungry, what are we going to eat?"
With that, ladies and gentlemen, I walked upstairs to my bedroom with a football player and toothbrush toting toddler at my heals to change clothes. One thing about being the only female in the house is that no one understands the relevance of privacy. Every time I go upstairs to change my clothes, take a shower, or use the bathroom, I have a shadow. I don't know what else to do at this point other than put a dead bolt on the doors. Brad is not any better than the kids. He grew up with a brother so I am sure that they never gave thought to walking in on each other in the bathroom. I am constantly telling Tucker, "Don't walk in a door that is closed with out knocking first." Does he understand what I am telling him? No. Sometimes I wonder if the three males in my house comprehend anything I say . Maybe it sounds like Latin to them? Connor gets a break at this age because I am still not sure about what he understands and what he doesn't. The other two should know better by now.

By the time I had changed clothes, Connor had found another toothbrush, this one I knew to be unused. I had to pry both of the toothbrushes out of his hands while he was screaming at me. Then he went into a full blown tantrum. I had him calmed down with an Elmo video and a hot dog while the rest of us could eat dinner. Then the time came to take a bath. Connor likes his bath, the problem is that he likes it too much. We had fun for about ten minutes, and then it was time to get him bathed and out before he turned into a raisin. Brad came upstairs to help me because getting our toddler out of the bathtub is a two person job. I hit the stopper to let the water drain out and Connor goes prostrate into the water in order to keep us from picking him up. Thankfully he kept his little head up or he would have drank most of the water in the bathtub. I struggled to get a good hold on his slippery little arms without gripping hard enough to hurt him or leave a bruise. Every time I started to lift the little stinker would sink himself back down onto the bottom of the tub. Brad's job was to hold the towel and have it ready when I finally wrenched the child from the tub. I believe we have the entire operation wrong, he should be the one getting Connor out, and I should be the towel holder. Well, we all know about hindsight. I finally managed to get one hand around his left armpit and the other hand on the underside of his right thigh and lifted him triumphantly out of the tub and handed him over to Brad. Our taking him out of the bathtub must have just been about all that his little mind could take because the tantrum that followed lasted at least 10 minutes. Have you ever tried to put a diaper and pajamas on a wild animal? I have, but instead of an animal, it is my son. I have developed many tactics to get his diapers on, only to have them work once and then the little guy will anticipate my movements the next time around and I have to go back to the drawing board. By the time I had his diaper on and half of his pjs buttoned I was sweating and he was hysterical. All I could do at this point was sit back and let him have it out. Finally I said, "Connor, you want to come to mommy?" he shook his head no. "Connor, are you going to cry all night." Yes. "Okay, well mommy is going bye bye." I got up and walked out of his room and low and behold there he comes after me, arms outstretched, red puffy eyes, and exhausted.
Now, both kids are in bed. Tucker is happy because he was able to watch Star Wars the Clone Wars on Cartoon Network with his dad. Connor is happy because he was able to sit in my lap and watch Barney with a warm bottle. I am happy because I can finally go to bed, after a long day.

Getting ready for Halloween!

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays of the year. My childhood memories are filled with exciting Halloween nights thanks to my mother. My mom is a fan of the macabre and anything that makes your flesh crawl with terror. She let me watch Cujo and Carrie as a nine year old.There is no doubt that letting me watch these horror movies were detrimental to my young mind, but she did not think about those things. I can remember laying on our couch in the den, watching Silver Bullet for the first time, and hiding under the pillows when the werewolf was chasing Corey Haim down the bridge in his wheelchair. That was a great horror movie. As a pre-teen and teenager, I loved to watch horror movies and read horror genre books. Mom was a big fan of Stephen King, but I did not enjoy his writing style and stuck to Anne Rice and other authors who intrigued me with their eloquent phrases and unbelievable descriptions of detail. In high school, my boyfriend's mom took me to meet Anne Rice at at book signing. She came out in a casket, dressed in a black wedding gown. There I was, a little blond cheerleader, looking everything like a blond bimbo with my long hair and cute clothes, surrounded by all of these people dressed in gothic clothes. There is no doubt in my mind that I stood out in that crowd. When I approached the table for Mrs. Rice to sign my book, I told her, "Your eye for detail is amazing." This pleased her and she told me that she would love to put that on a t-shirt. As I grew older, and matured, my reading interests began to shift to less gory books, to more historical. However, I believe that part of the reason I loved to read Anne Rice's books was not because of the vampire or witch themes that the books were based upon. What actually drew me to her writing were the periods in which her characters lived. For instance, most of 'Interview with a Vampire' takes place in 18th century France. Little did I know that when I was reading these books in 11th grade, I was setting myself up for a life time of reading and research into European history and culture. I enjoy reading about western history much more than I enjoy American history. This is probably due to the fact that our history is much younger than Europe's. The fact that most of US citizens are not native to our country is also part of my fascination with Europe. Unless you are of Native American descent, you were probably descended from a family across the Atlantic who risked their lives to come to our country in order to be free from the monarchy that ruled Europe.

Back to Halloween. Mom always made Halloween fun. I would be thinking about my costume for months before, and we always found exactly what I wanted to be. Our neighborhood was full of kids, and the residents went all out for Halloween. One house in particular had a whole set up in thier front yard with a casket that opened, and blue lights along with dry ice that would float about in the air when the casket opened. Mom would invite her friends from across town who had children my age to come and trick or treat with us. Then we would pair up with other families in the neighborhood and trick or treat for hours! It was magical. I will be grateful to my mother for my Halloween memories forever. I did not ever question whether or not Halloween represented something evil or that as a Christian I should not be participating in it. If you research the orgins of Halloween, you will find out that the holiday originated by the Celts and was then used by the Catholic church as one of the biggest worship services of the year. All Hallows Eve, what we now call Halloween, took place at the end of the summer harvest, on Oct. 31. It was thought by all of the people in the 13-16 centuries in Europe that on the night of All Hallows Eve, the spirits of the dead rose from thier graves and walked amongst the towns to destroy their crops and kill their children, livestock, and spread diseases. In order to protect themselves, the people who lived in smaller villages in the countryside of England and Ireland would take a pilgrimage to the closest Priory, or Cathedral town in order to have a safe refuge from the evil spirits that would roam the country. The monks and nuns would provide thousands of people shelter on this night with food, drink, warm fires, and other comforts that most of the pilgrims were not privileged enough to have in their own homes. No one would venture out of the sacred ground of the monastery for fear of the spirits. The Catholic church used this time as a way of showing Christ's generosity and compassion for the poor and unbelievers. It was a wonderful outreach opportunity and back in those days, most people believed in God, out of fear more than anything else. The day after All Hallows Eve was known as All Saints Day. The pilgrims would rise from their beds made on the floor of the monasteries and walk to the cathedral for worship and to recount their sins to the priest. After the service and repentance period was over, the pilgrims would then partake in the priory or town's festival, where they would trade livestock, wool, vegetables, etc for necessities.

For this reason, as a Christian, I do not believe that it is right to label Halloween as evil. In this century, it is looked upon as a time where children can dress up as their heroes. Little girls can be Cinderella, Snow White, Ariel or another princess for a night. Little boys can be Superman, Batman, or Handy Manny for a night. In our case, Speedster has opted for a Jango Fett costume that I found at Target. His daddy was a little annoyed at the price tag (39.99) but Speedster will probably wear the Jango costume every night for the next year. Therefore I have no qualms about getting my money's worth out of this costume. He has already worn it every night since we bought it on Saturday. I have to pry him out of it to get a bath or eat dinner. He loves to pretend play, which I think he gets from his momma. WildMan is going to be Superman. His sweet aunt Joann sent him a Superman Pj set with a cape on the back and I think that it will be perfect for his Halloween costume. Last year he was Tigger, and didn't appreciate the tail or the hood very much.

I guess what I am saying in this post is that I plan to enjoy Halloween, and not let anyone else's opinions on the holiday affect my own. Our church is having a festival this weekend, and the kids are allowed to wear non scary costumes, which I think is great.

Evil is present in this world everyday, not just Halloween. The fact that we only recognize it's presence on one night a year is scary in itself. If you have a chance, read C.S. Lewis' book The Screwtape Letters. It is a chilling read that will make you look at every word and action you utter or make during the day and question why you said what you said or reacted the way you did. God promises to protect us, but we have to deal with evil in this world, because we as creation are full of sin and the devil feeds himself on those sins. However, if you are a true believer you know that no matter what happens to you in this world, you will be cradled in the hands of Christ for eternity. This belief does not cause you to never worry, and to be mindful of dangerous decisions that will affect you and your family. Unfortunately we do not know God's plan for us and even though I pray for my children's safety every day, I still worry over them as most mothers are inclined to do. I try to be vigilant in remembering God's words, to help me get through scary circumstances in life. I am no martyr. I can't say that I am not scared of the future, I just do my best to enjoy the present. I will end with Psalm 23:4 "I will fear no evil: for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me."

The sun is shing. The air is fresh and cool. Fall has arrived!

Connor and I had a fun morning. Tucker's school had a book fair this morning, and since I am so blessed now to be able to stay at home, I was able to attend the book fair with him. Last year, I was unable to go because I had a meeting at work. I did not think twice about not going because the school had sent a note home to the parents letting us know that if we could not come to the book fair, not to worry because they would have volunteers there helping the kids choose age appropriate books. I sent Speedster 20.00 to spend because I absolutely LOVE book fairs, and think that they are the cheapest way to buy books and a great fundraiser for public schools. I could not wait to get home that night and find out what he had bought with his money. Twenty dollars can go a long way at a book fair! Imagine my dismay to find out that he had spent my hard earned dough on pencils, erasers, a book about dragons that was written on a 3rd grade reading level, and two other high level reading books. Dismay is an understatement, I was furious. Who in their right mind sends a 5 year old home with an Eragon paperback book????? Obviously the 'volunteers' the school had written about never helped Tucker pick out the books, or if they did they must have thought he was a very bright 5 year old. Thankfully the school was closed or I would have picked up the phone right then and let someone have it. Lucky for them, I had calmed down a little bit the next morning when I took Tucker to school, along with his sack of books and went directly to the book fair where I returned all of them. I was late for work that morning, but I picked out the best books that book fair had to offer and we still read them today so it was well worth it.

Therefore, I learned my lesson last year, and was not going to repeat the same mistake. I took
Connor to the a gym we are members of here in town. They offer a merciful service called drop and go. You pay them $10 and can leave your child there for an hour or two. For a stay at home mom, this is a Godsend. Anyone who has ever take a cranky, sleepy, hungry toddler to Walmart will understand. A stay at home mom's idea of heaven is going to Walmart, the grocery store, or Target alone without having to constantly say: "Stay in the buggy. Don't lean over the buggy. No you can't have that. Stop poking holes in the bread. Take your hand out of the freezer door. You ate what?" Not only do you have only yourself to take care of in the store, but you might actually make it out of the store with everything on your list. I can't tell you how many times I have walked out of Walmart only to realize after I have buckled both kids in the car that I forgot the main item I went into the store for to begin with. Instead of what is on my list I have tons of junk food, odd toys that were meant to keep the little one quiet, and things that were thrown in my buggy without my knowledge. So, after I took Connor to the drop and go care, I went to the book fair with Tucker. We spent a lot of time in there, because like his mama, he LOVES books. He kept saying, "Mommy, there is so much to investigate in here, we have to keep looking." Tucker's vocabulary amazes us. He comes up with the funniest sayings and uses huge words correctly. His teacher last year commented on his word play often, telling us that she looked forward to teaching him every day because she couldn't wait to hear what he would say. Last night, we were talking about what was in his lunch, and what he didn't eat. He told his dad and I that he didn't eat the goldfish but he ate the sandwich and the brownie. Brad kept asking him why he didn't eat his goldfish and Tucker said, "Fishes like to be free" To that Brad replied, you can make them free by taking them out of the bag and eating them. Tucker then replied, "My tummy is not an ocean daddy."
So now Connor is sleeping, Tuckerr is at school and mommy needs to stop blogging and get to work on her to do list given to her by Brad. He loves to give me a list of things that he needs me to do during the day. I don't know why, but this drives me bonkers. I just want to do what I know needs to be done. For some reason, when he tells me to do things, I don't want to do them even though they would be easy to do. For instance, I was supposed to call about some reward points on a credit card we had last week. I put it off until he got mad at me. I think that is my way of rebelling because I don't like to be told what to do. That little personality trait got me into trouble in school, at home, and at work if I had a micro manager. I hate micro managers. I am the type of person who will get things done, but in my own time. Granted, I am good at meeting deadlines. I never missed a single one in my seven year career. If my manager was bugging me about a project I would put it off until the last minute. I would finish the project half assed but correct. If my manager left me alone, I would not procrastinate, and turn out a beautiful spreadsheet or presentation with ease. Strange I know, but that is how I roll. My husband just needs to figure that out.

Today and tomorrow

Today was a nice day for Brad. He was able to take a much needed "vacation day" and stay with Connor while I went to work. We are so fortunate in that we have my stepmom who keeps Connor for us on the two days a week when I work. She loves the little guy so much, and he has a wonderful time with her. She and my dad have traveled to Indiana for a week and will not be back until the following Sunday. My mom enjoys keeping him as well, but unfortunately her health keeps her from keeping Connor as much as she wants to.
I am hoping that Brad got a taste of what it is like being home with a little one all day long. He needs to realize that I do not spend all day sitting on my arse watching Oprah and eating Oreos.
When Tucker got home today, they played/practice football in our living room. My sweet husband had all of these obstacles in the floor so that Tucker could practice his "moves" running with the ball. Evidently they had a few wrestling matches as well, but Connor did not enjoy them as much as the older boys did. Boys meaning my 6 and 32 year old husband. I am glad that they all had time together today without me. I truly believe in "guy time" as well as "my time". Boys need to be with thier dad and I need to be by myself every now and again. Technically, I wasn't by myself today, I was at work. However, I was having big people conversations and did not have to plan my day around nap time. Don't get me wrong, I love being a stay at home mom, it is my life long dream fullfilled. I am glad that I still work two days a week though. It is good for my sanity.
Tomorrow will be the last of Tucker's flag football games and the coaches are supposed to play after the kids play. Unfortunately, I will be at work in the morning, part of the whole part time set up I have with the bank. It is worth it to work on Saturday mornings most of the time, except when I miss out on this type of thing. The bright side is that I am home more than I am gone now, and what ever sacrifice I have to make is worth it for myself, and my family.

To begin, is to end, eventually.

Welcome to the Boz report! You are currently reading the first publication of the Boz report, a complete play by play of the activities surrounding the our family. If you are wondering why this blog is named Boz, I can explain. If you were not wondering, you can read it if you like and if not, well you can skip down a few lines. Explaination: My husband of 8 years, B., was/is called Boz by all of his highschool/college friends. This nick name has even carried over to his younger brother who probably does not appreciate the fact that he is often referred to as "Little Boz" by most of his town in Mississippi. However, as one knows who has had a nickname in the past, you can't do anything about what people call you, only with how you react to what they call you. My philosophy has always been, so what, but that's just me.

Another reason that I am posting this blog is to use it as a free advertisement for my small business called: Hand Painted for You! I started this business when B. and I decided that my working a full time, high level, high stress job with a Bank as a Compliance Analyst was just not worth the time away from our family.
I made a good salary, however we were unable to enjoy the fruit of my labor because 3/4 of it went to daycare. Also when I was at home, I was ill as a hornet and wanted to spend the other 1/4 of my income as retail therapy. Thus, a part time job as a teller with the Bank was my only option in order to keep the great healthcare benefits that the bank has for its employees, and to keep me with the company long enough to become vested in my 401K. Which by now is probably liquidated by the government in the bail out process to fund rich CEO's retirment accounts.

Anywho, when I took the part time job, it offered me the great hours of only working a full day on Monday and Friday, and three hours on Saturday at a decent hourly rate. (which is actually only 1/2 of what my hourly rate was before.) The trade off is that I get to spend three full days with our youngest son, nick named Wild Man, who is 17 months and at full throttle 8 hours a day. And, I am also able to meet our oldest son nick named the Speedster, who is in kindergarten, when he gets off the bus in the afternoons. The term 'meet' is used loosely here due to the fact that I merely sit on the swing which is located on our back deck and listen for his school bus to pull into the culdesac that is directly behind our back yard. In order for the Speedster to get to our house from this bus stop, he must first gather his best buddy, and neighbor from the gaggle of kids that are putting off going inside their houses to do their homework, then he and his buddy,Jake, must trapse through the woods for about 100 yards. Then after emerging from the woods in my line of vision, I witness from afar his descent into the often jungle like backyard of Jake's house. As the boys make their way through the undergrowth of grass that has not been cut in months, they must also climb over a tree that fell three months ago, and run out of range of the jaws belonging to Jake's unloved, unattended german shephard Chester who is tied for eternity to a run line that spans the width of the backyard. Now, most of you reading this will think that I am a horrible mother, making my child go through such an abyssimal trip to get home in the afternoons. If you have ever placed yourself inside the brain of a 6 year old boy, (which I don't recommend doing often) you will realize that his walk home is a great adventure that he gets to share with his best friend and confidant three days a week. And believe me, after being in the after school program five days a week at his elementary school last year when I was working full time, climbing felled trees, wading through high grass, and dodging a manic german shephard is a cake walk compared to the undisciplined, crazy kids he had to deal with at EDP (extended day program) Program my tush. The advertisement for EDP should have been: "You pay us 200 bucks a month, and we will let your kid run wild all over the school and playground while supervised by high school kids who are really just there to flirt with each other. We will make sure your child comes home every day with a new bruise or cut on at least one of his limbs, if your lucky all four will have a battle scar of some sort. When you ask us how the cut, scrape or bruise got on your child, we will certainly not have a clue, but we can tell you who went out with Brandon last night."