Batman Does Not Wear Underwear

So proclaimed Ashe this afternoon. We were sitting down for lunch preparing to head out to the Super Hero’s event at a local museum. I was not expecting to butt heads with a 4 yr old on wearing underwear underneath his Batman costume when we went out in public.






Ashe’s costume from last year is a bit small now. In fact we had to use a safety pin in the back to ensure his entire, ahhh, backside, was put on public display. But as we went to pin him in, J realized Ashe had forgotten to put on undies. Ashe was told we would not go if he didn’t put on any before we left.


“But Batman doesn’t wear underwear”! he whined.


“Yes he does” we parents replied. “Everyone wears underwear. Even Batman.”


“No, only fake Batmen wear underwear. The real Batman does not. He doesn’t need underwear.”


“We’re not going if you don’t put on underwear.”


“I can’t put on underwear. I am the real Batman!”


And around it went, Ashe stubbornly clinging to this (mental?) image that the real Batman does not wear anything but his costume. This is not the type of conversation I expected to ever have when I signed up to parent. I completely expected taking my kids dressed in crazy outfits out in public (I was willing to pick my battles) . I was ready to hear that my children have taken on the persona of their favorite Hero. What I was not ready to hear though, was that my 4 yr old thought Super Hero’s went around without skivvies and he wanted to do the same.






In the end we came up with a compromise. Ashe, I mean Batman, would wear underwear but they had to be Super Hero undies. It was ok in his mind that they were The Incredibles. And only once while we were out, did I peek those Super Hero undies poking through, covering Batmans bottom.

Wookiee

Words are interesting things. Some words are direct, straight to the point. Others are elegant, eloquent, capturing an image in your mind filled with color, innuendo, etc. And others are just damn funny. I love the funny words. Like shampoo. I remember once as a kid I said the word shampoo over and over again until it virtually lost all meaning and became just a combination of funny sounds until I couldn’t stop laughing whenever I said it. Even to this day I smile when I say the word shampoo. Now in my defense I have never once said I was totally sane, but have you ever done that? Taken a word and repeated it over and over until it becomes not the definition of something you know, but an entirely alien word, it’s meaning lost and insignificant?



Shampoo. Shampoooooo. Shampoo…..





OK I’ll stop.



There are other words that fit this description but none have ever made me giggle as much until yesterday when my kids introduced me to the fun of repeatedly saying another one:



Wookiee.



It started off as a normal afternoon as I picked Xavier up from school with Ashe and Soren. After he launched himself into the rebel van Ashe, desperately trying to get his older brothers attention yelled “HEY ZAVI! I GOT A WOOKIEE!!!” Xavier turned around and looking at Ashes action figure of Chewbacca yelled in horror

“ASHE! YOUR WOOKIEE IS BROKEN!”

“MY WOOKIEE IS NOT BROKEN!”

“Uh, yeah, your Wookiee is missing a leg.” I looked in the rearview mirror as I waited in line and watched his mouth drop in horror.

“OH NO!!!! MY WOOKIEE IS MISSING A LEG! MOM! MY WOOKIEE’S LEG IS BROKEN!”

“I can fix your Wookiees leg, Ashe” Xavier offered.



A moment of fumbling around and I hear “OK Your Wookie is good now.”

“YAY! YOU SAVED MY WOOKIEE! HEY, WANNA HOLD MY WOOKIEE?”



And at that point, I lost it. I mean seriously, I think I did a good job holding it in until then. I showed restraint of a saint. But when Ashe asked if Xavier wanted to hold his wookiee it was just too much for me. I burst out laughing. And behind me I hear Soren start laughing too, which makes me laugh harder. And then the boys join in and the 4 of us are just cracking up.

For the 10 minute car ride home Xavier and Ashe tried to outdo each other using the word Wookiee. And every time I would burst out laughing. This kept Soren belly laughing behind me, thus causing this never ending cycle of laughter, a few snorts, and tears rolling down my eyes. Juvenile? You betcha! It was awesome.

Wookiee. Woooookieee. Wookiee.

Cheap Labor

Our home has 3 levels and the middle level is what I fondly think of as ground zero. It's where the boys and I basically congregate when we are in the house. The ground level is our entry way and J's office so we can't really hang there with him working. The top level has our bedrooms. And bedrooms are for timeouts or sleep, something 2/3 of my children seem to be allergic to during the day. But ground zero hosts our  kitchen, dining room, and combo living room/playroom. And because the main activity is centered on one level and I have 3 rambunctious boys, it gets messy fast. We're talking nano seconds here, people. We clean it every night and I work on it throughout the day, but Im getting to the point where if I wake up and I have to walk the Lego path of Doom strewn with PJ's and a half eaten waffle from an escaped toddler just to get to my damn pot of coffee, I want to just say screw it and head back to bed.

But the boys do clean. Sometimes with minimal argument. Sometimes under dire consequences threatening over their heads. Sometimes with bribes. If you're a parent you know that the same tactic is not always going to work and you work with what you got as you guage the atmosphere around you.

Well the other night the place was a DISASTER! I'm talking Olympic size mess here. I dont know what the boys were doing and frankly, I dont think I want to. But when it was time to clean, the shock and awe of how big of a mess they had before them silenced all three boys for a good 30 seconds.

That in itself is a miracle.

So to help them look at the bright side, J made it into a game, and sweetened the deal by offering them a small prize to the one who put away the most toys. Both Xavier and Ashe love to compete with each other and this was fair game. With a glint in their eyes, they set to work. They bantered, they taunted, they rushed, they cleaned. And in 30 minutes I could see the floor again. J and I sat on the couch offering encouragement to the boys, reminding them of the elusive prize as they started to slow, which prompted them to pick up the pace again.

At the end both boys did a phenaominal job. We applauded them both and J declared it a tie. When asked what small prize they wanted Xavier eagerly requested a jump rope.
"Done!" J announced and Zavi broke out into a huge grin.
"What about you, Ashe? What would you like?"
"I WANT A SPONGE!" he shouted with glee.
"...A sponge?" I asked, thinking I heard wrong.
"YEAH, A SPONGE! I WANT ONE SO I CAN WIPE WALLS."
I start thinking to myself, the kid has finally cracked. Did we put too much preassure on him? Is his underwear too tight? Is he fixable?... Do I want him fixed???? I mean hell, he wants to wipe down walls as a prize? I can work with this!

So after giving each other "a look" J and I agree that yes, he can have a sponge. We'll go out and get him his very own sponge in the morning. And Ashe couldn't have been happier.


Maybe Im going about this whole parenting thing the wrong way? I'll have to think on this a bit more.

Mom For Sale

For Mother's Day I asked the boys to help me prepare for a Yard Sale the moms group I volunteer at will be having next weekend. What I wanted was for them to go through their mountain of toys and pick some that they didn't play with anymore and put them in a box to sell. I also bribed them by telling them they could have the money their toys earned *if* they chose them on their own. If they didn't and I had to go through their toys *I* would get to keep the money.

During lunch this Saturday we talked over how we were going to attack this goal together as a family. J and I asked the boys what else could they think of that we could sell? They couldn't think of anything so J decided to help them out by offering suggestions.

With a tiny smirk on his face, J suggested selling Mommy at the yard sale. Xavier and Ashes faces just dropped in aghast as J painted a mental picture of how they could place a sticker on me, and I could potentially bring in a lot of money for them to play with. He even told them he would be willing to go out and buy them Happy Meals from McDonalds with the money I would sell for.

Fortunately my kids are both smart and loyal. While I tried very hard to stifle my chuckles, Xavier jumped up from the table, and very pointedly told J that under no circumstances would I ever be sold. He needed his Mom as did his brothers and even a Happy Meal wouldnt sway him. He then turned to me and said I was the bestest Mom in the WHOLE Universe. Then he gave J a dirty look which made us finally give in and laugh.

I tell ya though, it felt damn good to hear that from my boy. It made me all warm and fuzzy inside. Love ya back, kiddo!

DON'T PANIC!!!

I know! I've been MIA and all of a sudden you stop by to see if I might have been mature enough to post something and you think WTF happened???? This blog looks so different!!!

But don't panic!!! I've finally snuck some time in this Mothers Day to revamp my blog look (Happy Mother's Day to you moms out there!). The boys grow like weeds, I've changed myself (if you notice on the photos above I went from a red streak to teal) and I thought it was time to dust the cobwebs off and get this baby looking fresh again.

ANNNNNNNND

I swear to Bawb I have blogs that will be coming soon! No, REALLY!! I've been hella busy with not only my crazy household but also with volunteering for a moms support group in my area, but I got 2 new cohorts to help take stuff off my plate and my last big event was last weekend so.......

I finally have time to blog! And oh how I've missed it! I have to catch you all up on the storm J & I rode through on a plane while the boys were stuck in in a bathroom with my mom and a tornado ripped through our area. I have to tell you about my trip to MA, our new game, what Ashe requested for a treat and the hell we have been going through with Xavier and his school.

It's just been insane. And I cant wait to toss the kids in bed and try to get some published. So stay tuned, don't freak, Suburban Rebel Mom is back!