A Tree! A Tree! Oh look and see!

Boys love trees. For a whole host of reasons, I imagine: they are teeming with bugs big and small, they cry out to be climbed no matter their height, they provide a place for forts and hideouts, not to mention the possibility of the age old boy dream, a "no girls allowed" tree house.

My boys are beginning their love of trees with a basic response to nature: an irresistible urge to urinate on every tree in sight. Is this my “fault” for letting them pee on a tree or two in the early days of potty training when you know you are not going to make it to the park’s nasty public bathroom in time? Is this a result of witnessing our dog in action from their earliest memories?

Even my newly potty trained 2-1/2 year old has this urge, asking if he can pee on a tree when we are outside instead of using the tiny, adorable portable potty that we have set up in the back yard for these early days of learning big boy peeing.

This must just be a boy thing, ingrained in their DNA and part of their makeup. I can honestly say, as a female, I have never – to my entire recollection – a thought how fun or cool it would be to pee on or anywhere near any sort of outdoor greenery. (Of course, I have had to out of sheer necessity, as there are always times when hiking or camping when you find you cannot hold it any longer and nature must take its course. This does not mean I enjoyed it or thought myself cool for doing so.)

On the bright side, looking forward to four pee-on-tree happy boys (that sounds like a Dr Suess-ish book idea right there – see below*), I may just have the most vibrant, healthy yard and garden in the neighborhood.

*A tree! A tree!
Pee on that tree,
Mom, may I pee upon that tree?
For I would like to take a wee
If you will just let me, gee!
There is no harm, oh can’t you see
For me to go and take a pee
Pee on that tree!
Pee on that tree!

A Library in the Potty

It’s a lucky thing my boys like a good story, because it’s been a lifesaver for potty training.

“Do you need to sit on the potty?” I ask for the fifteenth time that day. “NO!” comes the reply. But when enticed with a book, my kids - all of them, potty trained or not - can be seen making a beeline for the tiny toilet in anticipation of the next great read.


We read, and read, and read some more, and sitting there just isn’t so painful or dull anymore (besides the smells, maybe).

It’s probably not a coincidence that housed in my own master bathroom are volumes of books, read and unread, pages dog-eared from the last visit to the toilet, piles of magazines and “daily” readers, a New Testament and book of Psalms, and catalogs on everything from fashion to products that promote greater efficiency.

Something tells me there will always be a lively stack of books in the boys’ bathroom, too.

My Precious Insanity

“You’re insane!” That’s the number one comment I get from both strangers and friends regarding my parental state: being a stay at home mom for four boys under the age of four [currently 3 boys and a quickly expanding pregnant bump].

They could be right. Or I could be a totally blessed, well-rested and emotionally stable Supermom, which is the way I prefer to think of myself – hey, whatever gets you through.

But more likely they are right: I am a wee bit insane.

My days are filled with wacky adventures, loads of little boy energy, excessive screaming, tender cuddles, endless motion, budding conspiracy and mischief, too little sleep, and lots of prayer. But I love every high and low and wouldn’t trade it for the world, and thus I’ve decided to share the insanity.

So here is a summary of my testosterone filled world: First is my husband of 5 years. When we were dating he said he wanted 8 kids. (We’re compromising on 4.) Leading the pack is my MALE pug dog Claussen (4). Then Tadpole (3), vintage 2005. Tigger (2) joined us in 2006. 2007 would have been boring without a new baby…Welcome Cubby (1). And Quattro is expected in May 2009.

Insane? You be the judge. Welcome to my happy, wacky asylum.