Happy Birthday Gavin!

Gavin had a birthday yesterday and he's 11! Hit it!

I LIKE GAVIN BEEEECAAAUUUSSSEEE....

I like Gavin because-

1. He is a very polite boy. I generally get good word back from his school and church teachers. Considering some of the chats I've had with Whit's teachers it's a relief to be fairly confident when I pick him up no one is going to pull me aside to discuss that Gavin wanted to discuss- oh say- recent parental disagreements or body parts during class instead of fractions or the prophet Jonah. Or inform me he's been licking blocks again. He's just a good, nice kid. Dependably nice. Which is underrated. Lots of parents want to breed a genius. A super star. I just want nice kids. Nice teenagers. A very wise man once said to me- "There is something very special about being average." I like that. Although, being half Hart he comes from a gene pool "where all the women are strong, all the men are good looking and the children are above average." (guess it, 10 points) He also happens to be polite and kind and I really appreciate that. Most people do. He's not that weird kid kind of nice. None of that Hollywood child actor stuff. Obnoxiously trained to mimic their adult counterparts using words like "brilliant" and "humbled" No. He acts like an 11 year old boy and always remembers his yes please's and thank you's. It hits the spot. This is one of the many reasons I like Gavin.

HOWEVER- He is starting to throw down with some pretty serious tween sarcastic rippers like- "Wow." "Wow Mom." Or "Really? Really Mom?" Or the big slam in your face- "FAIL!" They're brilliant and they totally humble me. FYI- You can knock down any worthy opponent when you scream "FAIL" in their face. Real. It's taken me by surprise as I'm a little out of practice with all my good comebacks. I haven't combated in a verbiage smack down in years. So I turn around and use them on Christian "Susie, can you shut the garage do-" "FAIL!" Which leads me to-

3. Gavin is a funny kid! He has really developed a razor sharp sense of humor. Gee, I wonder where he gets that from? Don't jump to conclusions friends. Although I am the funniest person I know, I'm thinking of his grandpa Hart, our Great aunt Jenny and all his clever regular aunties. A family of cut up's he was born into. The dry, wry Hart sense of humor mixed with a little fartpoo repressed Sonner's slapstick. A deadly combination. Between his verbal rippers and gastronomical one's he keeps me giggling all the day long. During his Parent Teacher Conference this year, Mrs. Sanchez mentioned that during their annual class Karaoke Revolution Party (luckies!) Gavin and his mate danced and sang to "Girls Just Want to Have Fun!" She said he killed it.

Well, maybe she didn't say "killed" it. But it's what she meant. He had the class in stitches.

Let's see... New things I've noticed about living with an 11 year old boy. They stink! So flipping flopping bad. It's olfactory proof that I really, truly have a soon to be teenager on my hands. By the way I smell some pretty odious odors in my house but tween boy funk is pretty freaking rank. As married adults Christian and I are somewhat socially and contractually expected to keep our odors down to a minimum, and other than the random person at the DMV or our stale morning breath I don't get whiffs of real adult stinkage that often. It's not a part of my daily world thank goodness. And yes the babies do stink but it's somewhat tolerable and familiar. Being exposed to a constant stream of stale B.O. is new and odd. Disgusting. But especially odd. It's something that I am trying -and failing- to get used to. Or come to terms with. Boy's stink. I never stood close to my brothers long enough from ages 8-18 to really realize that and I have a nasty gag reflex so Christian tries to keep things clean and odorless for me. Let me tell you- it does NOT smell like teen spirit around here. The pre-teen boy who's yet to develop a serious interest in girls has no real motivation at this point his youth for the daily brushing of teeth or application of actual shampoo in the shower. A mother with a sensitive nose is certainly not reason enough to brush one's tongue. No, teeth get scrubbed when mom stands over his shoulder and hair get lathered only when she points out which one the shampoo bottle is. Rubbing Ivory on the top of one's head where mom sniffs does not count. Oh my. I almost can't wait for the crushes to start.

11 years old and far too cool for you and the rest of the world, he has yet to let go of his habit of climbing in bed with me in the morning for our chat's. It's the best part of my day. I hold the covers over my face and cherish those precious mornings. I'm not sure when they will end. I suspect soon. sigh. I've discovered I don't do well with my boys getting older. No, not at all.

Gavin Happy Birthday! I love you. We love you!

I was going to make a really awesome birthday music video but my ukulele skills need some fine tuning so I found two professionals to do it the way it needs be done. Take it away Rebecca and Camden!

For a hoot, toot and a giggle hop on over to "Older and Wisor." It's to the left. And excuse all my spelling and grammatical errors. I should say excuse that there are more than usual. Please. It's Christmas Eve! I gotta go.

Christmas post coming soon. Sometime around New Year.

Wedding Anniversaries and the things I do for love

So Mr. Demke and I just celebrated 4 years of wedded bliss. 2 weeks ago? October 14th. October 14th 2006.

Although if I was telling you the truth and added up all the actual bliss, it would probably be closer to like 1.7 years of wedded bliss and the rest just just would be wedded life. Kids, diapers, bills, in-laws, ex-laws, doctor visits, illness, injury, moves, renovations, dying animals... You know- the cake. Which is still pretty tasty. We are quite pleased with ourselves that four years into this shenanigan and everyone is still alive and kicking. Thank you, thank you very much.

Once again we spent our anniversary apart. From each other. I was doing my Fresno mom gig and C-Dad was back at home with the little ones. Just for one night this year. In past years we have spent the whole week apart. I had to leave in the morning to go to Fresno to bring Gavin back to Norco. Don' t try to figure it out. You'll get a headache. Speaking of headaches.. We also both got the flu. I was in bed the whole day prior and Christian got sick the next day. Let's just say we've had more romantic celebrations. I did call him to wish him a happy day and ask how many times he threw up. Fortunately, neither one of us is that sentimental so we are down with celebrating all major holidays, birthdays and anniversaries any time within 3 weeks of the actual date it falls on. As long as I get a meal out of it I don't have to cook, I'm good.

In true Christian fashion I was presented with a sweet, thoughtful, lovely gift this year and I would like to think that even though what I gave him was free-- my gesture was just as grand. If good-sportsmanship cost money this would be one very lavish token of my love. That and Christian bought his own present again. But this is what I gave him. Being the thoughtful and generous wife I am.

I went hiking with him and the little boys.

He planned a hiking trip with the boys and asked if I would go and I agreed. Happy Anniversary.

I don't think Christian thought I would actually do it. Even on the way up, he kept saying- "I didn't really think you would do this." Well dear husband- wonders never cease to exist with me. I am not the woman you think I am. I would do anything for love. I would even do that.

The plan was a hard 3 mile hike and we made it 1. Christian was worried I would be hungry and cold (valid concerns) so he packed a lot of gear. And the hike was- ahem- a little out of our league. Like- a lot, completely and totally out of our (my) league. This was no stroll in the woods. No. It was hard laborious hiking up and over boulders, rock and switch back. It was more like a climb. A climb with a 35 pound back pack. If you are a hiker you know how ridiculous that is. 45 pounds on Christian AND he had Jay in a baby pack on his back attached to his backpack AND he had to carry Sheldon most of the way.

I never once complained (thank you) but about a half mile into it I told him I knew for absolute sure, there was no way in this life at this present moment I was going to make it 3 miles. Not if he wanted to celebrate a 5th anniversary. No objections from him. We were done. We made the mile and half mark. Woo.

But I would say the biggest challenge was no fires allowed in the park and since you can only bring up what you can carry-- we had no chairs... Think about it. I will pee (almost) anywhere but I struggle when I don't have a comfortable place to sit and I have to stand and eat stew out of a can. Not my thing.

This was our little camp site. That Target bag and the canister he is sitting on. That was it. As you can see- not much to do. At one (and many) point, boredom set in so I pulled out my ipod and we practiced some of our karaoke songs and harmonies, taking full advantage that no one was around to hear and I brushed up on some of my dance moves for everyone. Roger Rabbit. Running Man. Kid 'n Play. Dropping it Low. (If you don't know what I am talking about you are way too young to be reading this blog) (or old) (but don't stop reading) I would have worked on Worm but I had to wear the same pants and shirt the next day and I didn't want to get all dusty. Stuff like that. While I danced in the dirt for Christian I told him this was also part of his anniversary gift. Feast your eyes on this! He likes to watch me dance. It makes him laugh but Sheldon was confused (he hasn't seen his mom dance yet) and Jay cried (I couldn't hold him while I danced). At 7:00pm sharp the sun went down behind the trees, the "fun" ended and we all had to go to bed. So we got in bed. And layed there. For hours. And hours. I finally took at sleeping pill at 2:00am before I considered shooting myself in the head.

So that was it. Good times people. Good times. 4 years. We might get a little more boring every year but I would also say we get a little better. Happy Anniversary to us.

Even though we were hiking with the children and hadn't brushed our teeth, Christian decided to get a little naughty with me. Christian- I'm sorry that I don't take your sexiness for real and laugh at you. I laugh when I get turned on... I do.

Pearls of Great Price

4 things my sister Heather told me that I'm not sure if I'm sure are really true or not.....

1. If the toothpaste tastes extra spicy it means your breath was extra bad...

2. The things you find most annoying about other people are the most annoying things about you.

3. The person you like the least is the person you are most like.

4. There is a Land of Um and if you believed hard enough you could actually get there.

I'm 32 and still trying to figure how out how much truth there is to all of this. Was it to torment me? Or is my breath really bad???

2 part el posto

We had ANOTHER birthday last week. Now 2 weeks ago. This has been sitting in- you guessed it, my drafts. Forever. Sheldon! Hurray! He turned 3. And he turned bad.

When I was going to write this post last week (2 weeks ago), I was reminiscing about him and getting all teary thinking about what a little dear he is, how we got so lucky and seemed to sail right above those terrible two's. And then this (and the following) week happened.

Quick as an eye, in true form of Sheldon, he turned on us and has been a complete ****head all week(s). For real. I want to kick him in the butt. I don't know what we are headed for and I am keeping my fingers crossed for just a random rotten week(s) but something is telling me... (Since it's been 2 weeks, I think it's pretty much confirmed he is going to stay a stinker for awhile)

Generally Sheldon is a dream. I said it last year and I will say it this year and if you get sick of hearing it, too bad. This boy is beautiful. I am beyond shocked between Christian and my "eh" genes we had such a beautiful child. He's so cute. And he's so cute! Head, shoulders, knees and toes.

Eyes, ears, mouth and nose.

This is what has happened in the last year with Sheldon. He moved in with me and Christian. Into our room. Literally. When Jay was born we moved him into Gavin's room, so they could share, having earlier bought a bunk bed for the boys with a double on the bottom so he could roll around and have lots of room. Transition from the crib. We got him and Gavin all pumped up (we basically informed them) about "getting" to "finally" share a room with a brother! Woo! Lot's of stories of how dad and I had, ahem, got to share rooms our whole lives and totally "LOVED" it!

Then somewhere in the midst of that blurry black hole time we don't/can't recall, Sheldon started coming into bed with us in the middle of the night. Usually after Jay would wake up and eat. Smart kid. We would both be so exhausted or deep into REM we wouldn't notice or care. So Christian moved a little mattress in the corner of our room. It's a big room. Simple. Then we put sheets and a pillow and blanket on it. When you give a boy a mattress in mom and dad's room with a pillow on it..... You are then going to have a little boy that puts on his pj's, climbs into mom and dad's bed, fluffs his pillow, settles in with bottle and looks at you like- Hey guys! You ready? I'm pooped. T.V? Man vs. Food? No? Yeah, maybe tomorrow night. So-goodnight!

And we let this happen. All of it. We did it. We know it.

We all share a bed and I moved his clothes into the extra dresser in our room. Yes. I did that. Because why would I put his clothes in a room he doesn't sleep in? That's ridiculous.

Just. Don't. Tell me anything. Because right now I really don't give a crap. I don't. We all share a room. What more can we bring up in therapy? I'll add it to the list.

I love Sheldon beeecccaaaauuussseee...

He thinks he is part of everybody's everything. Whatever you are doing or eating or talking about he just assumes that he is part of it, can have half of it (all if he's hungry) and join in on the fun of it. Having no relation to you means nothing, for if you exist then you certainly exist for him. Duh! And I would just like to say that I think that's a totally positive, healthy life attitude to have and I'm not going to do one thing to squash that. Word. Up.

I love that he is my one child who tells us constantly that he "lubs" us. All day, every day. "I lub u mom!" I die. I die. I die. He hugs, he kisses, he walks up to everyone and puts his hands up high and screams- "HI! HEY GUYS!" It translats to- Hey everyone, I'm here, where's the party, what's in your hand, is that a sandwich, you gonna eat that, can I have a bite, thanks!

I was talking with Christian a few nights ago. Sniff. I really am sad that Sheldon is growing up. Usually I get pretty enthusiastic as the kids get older every year. A little more independent and reasonable which is nice, but not Sheldon. He grew a few inches and his body is changing and it's breaking my heart. I really, really enjoy him as a toddler. Because after toddlerhood comes kindofawkwardlylonglengykneesandelbowybuckteethyhood. Which is totally fun and cute in it's own way. But there is something about a little boy with blond curly hair, dark brown eyes, little skinny legs with a distended round belly and teeny tiny hands that just melts my cold, cold heart. Ya know? He has been (has been) text book easy fun and delights us with every kiss and punch in the stomach. Translates- I lubu, let's play.

He is, what I think, a little boy should be. He is the stuff that poems are made of and mothers dream of. He plays and loves like a little bear cub. If you can take a punch to the face after a kiss on that same cheek you will love Sheldon. I wish I could explain that to the cat. Now I'm going too far, because I didn't already, but truly he makes me genuinely happy. He gives me pure joy. Pure, pure joy. Despite what I wrote earlier. I guess I'll take it back. (Because he is sleeping right now and I'm never mad at my kids when they are asleep.) There is nothing calculated or anything complicated about him. He's just a boy. Just a little, 100% straight up 3 year old boy. Simple. He is blissfully simple. A breath of fresh (or funky sweaty puppy) air in this complicated crazy life we live. Happy or mad. Mad equals tired, hungry or bored. Feed, nap or shoo outside. Bada bing. Bada bang. There are a few moments every blue moon when it's just the two of us and what a truly delectable treat it is for me to get to know the forgotten middle child who refuses to be forgotten.

He continues to love Christian the most and truthfully I find it absolutely endearing (as I love Christian the most too) and I can see the giddy pride this brings my husband. Not because Sheldon likes him more but because his son is so very in love with him. They are two halves of a whole and it's just the greatest.

C said to me around Sheldon's birthday, made me cry- He mentioned how he wished his dad were still here to get to know Sheldon. Not only would Sheldon1 LOVE having a grandchild named after him but he would have gotten a real kick out of Sheldon2. Having a grandson with the personality that Sheldon2 has, they would have been real buds. (Not his exact words, but the gist of it.) Isn't it true though?

(I wasn't going to add this but I think I will. Last Christmas we went to see Sheldon's grave site to clean it up and put some flowers there. As we were getting in the car to leave, something drew my attention to turn around and I knew with absolute certainty that Sheldon was with us. We brought the 2 little boys with us that day. There have been a few times in my life when I have felt the presence of family members around me that have passed and I get the same impression. That they want me to be aware that they are... very aware of us. Our lives. Our children. Our successes and even our failures. That they love us and know what we are doing. I believe they continue to watch us and are, I guess for lack of a better word, rooting for us. I know that Sheldon Sr. knows Sheldon and Jay. I felt it so clearly that Christmas afternoon. I know he loves those boys and all our children and continues to be part of our family still here on earth while he waits for us to join him on the other side. Sometimes that veil seems so thin. I am so grateful for my faith that supports my belief that families are forever and can be together forever. Even after this life. I am grateful for all the work that we can do here on earth to ensure that those ties and bonds never have to be broken.)

Sheldon makes me so happy. Call me nuts- but he is proof that either kids really are indestructible or I am doing something right. I choose to believe the latter.

Second part of this post today- Whitley has started Kindergarten. I can't believe it. Cliche. But true. I am so happy that C and I met when she was such a young baby. Together we have been able to raise her and this milestone is ours together. We both feel a little sad. We miss baby Whitley. But big Whitley is tons of fun. My only hope is that her teacher will understand her. We were so fortunate to have had a wonderful preschool teacher who "got" Whitley and really helped her develop and grow socially, was even able to appreciate her quirks. I so appreciate those teachers who really tune into their students needs and accept and love those children who "color outside the lines". I think we have a good one this year. Ms. Williams. I got a really positive vibe from her and I think this will be a great year for Whit. We are very excited. She is lukewarm. About as excited as she gets.

P.S. I'm room mom.

JAY is ONE.

It's been a long time- yes. Just so you know (because I know you care) I do try. I have about 13 drafts collecting dust where ever blogspot drafts collect dust. (I could ask Christian to tell me but I would have to call him. And that's not worth it for a lame joke) So, I do try to keep up with keeping you up with our extremely interesting and important lives. I've just been so busy. We've been busy. Good busy. I feel like I am on four different schedules right now. What am I talking about? I AM on four different schedules. And sadly my own private schedule doesn't start until 11:00pm and ends at whenever Animal Hoarders, RHOWhatever, 19 Kids and Counting and Women Behind Bars can't keep my eyes open anymore. When all the kids are home, stealing up to the computer for 3 hours feels like a sin. So I tend to blog at night but watching people hoard 40 cats and getting caught with 30 pounds of poo under one couch, it's just so damn interesting. Yes, my pitiful posts take me hours. Because I'm paranoid, neurotic and slow and the irony isn't lost on me that after all that work I still write like a 3rd grader. If you were to peek at my file, the unfinished drafts far outweigh my published. That's probably a good thing. For example- I've already mentioned cat feces in this post.

We had a birthday! But we have one more coming 'round the bend so I'm going to do those together..... Wait. Okay. I'll do it now. Everyone is asleep.

Jay turned one! Oh. My. Goodness. For the younger, hipper crowd-OMG. Oh. Oh. Oooohhh. OOOOHHHH. What a year. What a year. (I made a joke about a Dante's Inferno but C thought it too harsh. Away it goes.)

Jay is very..... intense. He knows what he wants and he wants- YOU. Okay- not you, you, but me. He wants ME. And Christian. And he wants me on my feet and moving. Which of course I can't do. I so wish I could communicate to him that he is the fourth and I do feel terrible but the luxury of walking the halls and bouncing, jiggling and shushing are just not granted to the fourth. One of life's cruel unfairities (made up word) but that's just the way it is. Bless his heart. What a year it has been. Lot's of tears. Mine. Lot's of poop. His. (lucky)

I love Jay beeeeccaaauussee- He has the silliest grin. I love his smile the best. (oops did I just admit that?) Well, it's fair because I just titled him the whiniest. It's lopsided and huge and he's got more teeth on one side of his mouth than the other and strangely this unevenness does nothing to flare up my neurosis of feeling uneven. It's just so darn cute. And since it's so rare it's even better. I love when he smiles. I feel like I did something. We all do. When he finally gives us a grin everyone starts gushing and talking in gibberish and we all act like fools trying to keep the smile going. Jumping and hopping around from one foot to the other with our hands scratching our armpits singing ooh ooh ooh.

Jay also loves to sing. He is a little songbird. "Everything I Own" from Bread is his go-to. He rocks it. Because he sings and sings so loudly I forgive him for all the tears and tantrums. I love to be sung to... No I don't. It makes me feel uncomfortable and awkward but it's cute when it's a baby. It's so cute when it's Jay.

Now here is the twisted Susie part of our relationship. He needs me. He wants me. And that is food for my hungry ego. He feeds my soul. (FYI-Any other human person who needs or wants me I run from) But it's different with my children. Even though he is loud and rude and hates everyone but me and dad, it kind of makes me feel good inside. I always get picked first and I never get picked first. Jay picks me first. Sniff. He just wants his mother. A boy who wants his mother? Oh, be still my heart. Yes, I know I have some complex. Naming it isn't necessary.

Another funny oddity. He loves stuffed animals. We all hate them. I think they are crap. A complete waste of space and fur but he loves a soft little fuzzy bear to sleep with and hold in his crib. So naturally I make an exception for him and even bought him a huge lame bear for his birthday. It was his favorite present and the only one he doesn't have to worry about the other kids trying to steal and play with. And it's just so darn cute to watch him rub his cheeks on a fuzzy bear. To see him act so tender towards something. Even if it's a lame bear.

Jay is such a blessing to this family. He is a blessing to me. He has totally mellowed me out. He broke me. At one point I realized I can't change him, I can only change myself and interestingly that's kind of seeped into many other needed areas in my life. And I'm liking it. I love this little man in a baby's body. I love his laugh. I love his hair. I love his breath. His hands are perfect. And the 3 teeth all on the right side of his mouth are just icing on the cake.

Happy Birthday Jay!

Likes-

Mom

Dad

Stuffed animals

Dislikes-

Whitley

Sheldon

You

Food

Diapers

The floor

Ambivalent about-

Everything else