Testosterzone #2

Wyatt hasn't really hit puberty yet, but there are definitely plenty of boy hormones floating around. It doesn't help that Tate (2.5 years younger) is almost as tall and much stockier.

Wyatt obviously feels the need to assert his dominance, in typical oh-so-very-subtle boy fashion. (Yeah, check out "Shark Boy", in a previous post.)

My army arrange is better than anyone else’s and my little message here is going to be better than anyone else’s. My army arrange has tons of bazooka guys and guys with machine guns and flame throwers. And it is ORGANIZED, not like Tate’s and Gunnar’s, which are all messed up. My army arrange could probably beat them up, any time, day or night.

Shark Boy

Wyatt’s visit to the orthodontist was uneventful. The doc decided to give him another six months of growth before making any decisions. Wyatt knows that he is destined for braces, (his teeth are in rows, for heaven's sake!) and commented to the doc that the good thing about braces is that he is home-schooled and so he won’t have to deal with other kids teasing him. (I did NOT prompt that – he came up with that one on his own!)

After that, Wyatt apparently was more interested in the squirrel outside the window than listening to the other possibilities the orthodontist was outlining. When I gave Kerry a reprise later, and Wyatt heard me mention pulling teeth, his defenses kicked into high gear…

“What?! I might have to get teeth pulled?! Will it hurt?”

Hmmm, moral dilemma. Honesty is always the best policy, but remember that this child is a fretter, AND that “the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth” are three separate categories. I’ll choose “the truth”.

“Well, honey, they make you numb.”

“With a SHOT?!?”

“Mmmm, yeah, but they numb it before the shot, so if you close your eyes you don’t really feel it.” Sort of. Maybe we can find a dentist with anesthesia.

Wyatt gave me a very suspicious look. Tate and Gunnar were eagerly waiting to see how this little drama would unfold.

Then, I had a bright idea!

“You know, the Tooth Fairy brings MONEY for teeth that were pulled!” (Previously, she has only left toys or trinkets – and pixie dust - for teeth that fall out the ordinary way.)

“Really?”

“Oh yeah.”

Tate, narrowing his eyes and calculating, said hopefully, “When will I get teeth pulled?”

“Hopefully never.”

Wyatt, alarmed that Tate might find a way to horn in on the only bright spot he can see in a bad situation, decided it was time to get tough:

“You won’t get any teeth pulled, because your teeth are all prim and proper like a prissy person. MY teeth are rough and rugged, like a MANLY MAN!”

So there.

Life in the TestosterZone #1

Yes, I live with four boys... one I'm married to, and three I deliberately brought into this world (which sometimes causes me to question my sanity).

As I've mentioned, I have NEVER been a "girly girl". Still, boys may live on the same planet, but it's a totally different world. So I thought I'd share a few little moments of "boy-ness" in my life, from time to time.

* The picture is not a recent one, but is a good illustration of how differently boys' minds work. Two of the three boys thought it was a GREAT idea to put a huge albino PYTHON around their necks. (Apparently only the youngest had any doubts about the wisdom of that plan!) This kind of snake, as you probably know, kills its prey by constricting... squeezing! I don't see any large lumps in the snake that would indicate it had recently swallowed, say, a chicken, or a neighbor's yippy dog, or anything else, so for all I know the snake is thinking, "Oooo! Three for the price of one!" This poses no problem for boys.

* After church Sunday I noticed a purple mark on Gunnar's neck. (Nothing alarming, it was from a marker.) I asked him how that happened, and got the classic - and truthful - response, "I dunno." When he took his shirt off later, I realized the purple line extended down the right side of his neck and made a little squiggle out on his shoulder. And he had no idea how it got there! Okay, honestly, I think I would remember if I or someone else (!) managed to get a felt pen under my shirt and do some doodling! Gunnar wandered into the bathroom to have a look in the mirror and seemed shocked. He said to me, in genuine innocence, "How did that get there? Can you get that off? That's embarrasin'!"

* Kerry took the boys out for a walk around the neighborhood while I was making dinner the other night. They came home without him. When I asked them, "Where's Daddy?" they told me, completely dead-pan, "He got mugged. But he told us to run on ahead." Right.

* Then, as dinner wasn't quite ready, I asked them to amuse themselves calmly. That's what I said. What they heard, I have no idea. They headed into the living room saying, "Hey - I know! Let's wrestle!" Great idea.

* This is my current personal favorite. Gunnar needed a bath one evening, so I sent him upstairs to get clean jammies and underwear. This seemed to take a long time, and he came down with just jammies. I asked him, "Gunnar, where's your underwear?" And, as if this were a perfectly ordinary thing to happen, he said, "I dropped my underwear out the window." What, on purpose?