Pssst. What's the password?

Passwords are a part of our every day life these days, right?  Most people have to keep a list to keep up with all of them.  And then the Army makes you change it on a regular basis.  But with technology the way that it is, passwords are here to stay.

Not too long after both children figured out computers, they started watching our fingers as we entered passwords to get them to places they wanted to go.  Sometimes, we would consult them if we were having trouble remembering because they knew them so well.  They know Bay's passwords and May's passwords.  And of course, Jessa had a little bout with passwords several years ago ...  Now, our iTunes passwords are TOP SECRET, though, and we make them turn their heads before we enter it.  Don't need to pay for any more premium Angry Birds games, thank you very much.

And at school, both kids have to remember several logins and several passwords and even a pin code for lunch.  So one would think that sweet Spencer had this all figured out, right??

Well, he came to me a few days ago, all forlorn.

"Mom," he said, "I am locked out of my computer."  I was confused, how in heaven's name could this child be locked out of his computer.  He doesn't have it password protected.  It is HIS.  It never leaves the house.  "Why would it need a password?" I thought to myself.  And then I looked at my sweet child's sad face and asked him, "Son, when did your computer get a password?"  He replied, "Oh, I put one on it."  So I assumed that it was one of the passwords that he has seen us use before.  I typed a few.  They didn't work.  I asked him, "OK, Spence, what do you think your password is?"  And my smart, creative little boy did not bat an eye nor did he crack a smile.  As serious as he could be, he said, "Well, I am pretty sure that it is JaguarPajamaPants."  Um, well, I was not expecting that!  So I tried hard not to laugh because he was as solemn as a judge.  "Spencer, why in the world do you think that would be your password?  What would have made you pick that?"  And he looked up at me, and all matter-of-fact-like  said, "Well, it has always been my dream to see a jaguar wearing pajamas."  There you go.  It was as simple as that.

I was trying to Google this and find a solution.  David was attempting to help me long distance.  The other night, I even had him lay on my bed with his eyes closed and try and remember.  I was trying to pull a Cliff Huxtable making Vanessa retrace her steps and helping her find her report.  (spoiler alert: it was in the freezer.)  And he said, "Well, it used to be MagicOfMagic.  But that was before I changed my user name to Dog Lover 152."  I asked, "Honey, why DogLover152?  Were DogLover1 through DogLover151 taken??"  "Oh no," he said, "I just like the number 152."

Oh, DogLover152!  What is your password??

 So I asked him for other ideas.  "Maybe it had a 5 on the end or maybe it was 55 or wait, 15." he said.  I tried that.  All three.  He said, "Try, YayMeBooYou33."  That wasn't it, either.  In the end, retracing his steps didn't help.  I am no Bill Cosby.  So, I had to take this expensive paper weight across the street to my computer fixer.  I felt like I was giving up, but with Spencer's little brain, we may NEVER think of it.  I am sure David would have already figured it out, but I am not a computer wizard like he is.  After about 4 minutes and $19.38, the computer was unlocked and the nice computer man made me the admin, and I am the only one who knows the password.

And FYI, even after I told him NOT to put a password on ANYTHING else or he would become a sweet little Amish boy who only plays with wooden toys, he sheepishly informed me that he had put a password on his iPod.

I took a deep breath to keep from being angry.
"What is it, son?" I asked.
"Oh, Mom, don't worry.  It is really easy to remember," he said.
"Spencer, what is it?!" I implored.
"PopTartCode45" he replied.
 

Good thing he is cute...

 

Oh. My.

"Hey, mom?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"Maybe the password was JaguarPajamaShirt or it could have been JaguarPajamaNightCap?"
"Good night, Spencer."

My Drama Queen

My Jessa is precious to me.  She is silly and funny and smart and beautiful.  She can be sweet.  She can be nasty.  And I love her more than life.  She makes every day fun.  Fun and challenging because oh boy is this child dramatic!

She is our drama queen FOR SURE.  She worries and makes mountains out of mole hills on a daily hourly minute to minute basis.  When Jessa is happy, all is right with the world.  And not just her world, but everyone who is in her immediate area.  Birds sing, flowers bloom, the sun shines.  But should anything, and I mean ANYTHING not go her way, heaven help us!

(^sign found here)

To illustrate this point, I will tell you about our day.
It is Labor Day.  No school!  Yay!

We slept in, and had a lovely morning.  We were getting ready to go to a friend's house for a cook out later in the day.  I, being the on-the-ball mom already packed a bag with bathing suits, changes of clothes, towels, sunscreen, bug spray, hand sanitizer (for Jessa, of course), etc.  When Jessa saw which towel I packed.  The world almost ended.  It was not the towel she wanted.  It was not the right towel.  How could I have been so wrong??  She proceeded to remove the towel that I had packed (on the bottom of the bag) and take it back to the linen closet and carefully select the perfect towel.  I love repacking bags!

Next, I suggested she wear her Crocs since they are perfect for pool and creek playing.  She looked at me like I had two heads.  Her Crocs?  Her CROCS?!  "MOM!  They are outside and they most definitely have bugs and spider webs in them.  Spider Webs!"  So I told her we could clean them.  She had to get a paper towel to touch them and bring them in for me to wash.  In the sink.  With soap and HOT water.  Then hand dry.  She inspected them and thankfully they passed muster.  But she didn't want to wear them.  She wanted to pack them.  But not in the bag with everything else.  In their own bag. *sigh*
(So she wore her "high heels" instead)

Later they were swimming.  She was jumping off the diving board over and over.  She was having fun.  But several times, when her head would pop out of the water and she would holler "Oh My!  I was not breathing!"  Well, yes, when you HOLD YOUR BREATH, you are not breathing.  The next time her head popped up, "I almost didn't make it!"  Luckily, the near death experiences did not prevent her from continuing to jump into the pool over and over and over.

 Before supper, they were playing in the creek.  She slipped on some rocks.  She did scrape her knees and her ankle.  And she had a pretty big cut on her shin.  But Spencer came tearing up to where we were sitting to tell me.  Everyone briefly got worried until I explained that it was just Jessa, and it probably was not that serious.  By the time I got to her, she was limping along.  I asked her if we needed to amputate it.  She was not amused.  As we walked into the house to clean up the wounds, she sighed and said, "Mom, I don't think I am going to be able to go to school tomorrow."   That's our Jessa!

And finally, after supper, she limped over to play on a swing set.  She was barely gone a minute when she limped back.  She saw spider eggs.  She cannot be near spider eggs.  And once we got home, she was in tears because she knew those spider eggs were all over her.  She hurried into the shower and used 2 soaps and 2 shampoos, just to be sure.

And as she was heading to bed, after changing her bandages, she hollered back, "Can you at least write me a note to excuse me from PE?"

Where's Stewart?

We have been married for 14 years.  We have been on active duty in the Army for 14 years.  Thus, we have just completed our 9th military move.  We always operate a little differently each time we move.  This time, we chose to let the children have a fun 2 weeks at Camp May and Bay while we packed and cleaned and loaded and unloaded and unpacked.  They have a short summer anyway, and I wanted them to have some fun.  We also opted to let Stewart stay in GA with May and Bay as well.  I have heard too many horror stories of frightened cats getting packed in a box or hiding in the underside of furniture.

After the allotted 2 week period, I couldn't wait to see the babies and Stewart!  I brought them all back to the new house.  The house that was full of boxes, except for 3 spaces that were all ready.  Jessa's room, Spencer's room, AND Stewart's area were unpacked and set up.  The new baby gate was in place to keep Stewart safe from Max, who wants to eat him.  So he will spend the days safely in the back of the house, and at night, when the dogs are in bed, he will have the run of the house.  Everything was as it should be.  But still, I always worry about all of the furries adjusting to a new home.  And I hate the "unsettled" feeling that I have when there are still boxes everywhere.

I needn't have worried about Stewart.  Each morning for the first few days, we had a great time trying to find him.  He was always somewhere in the house, in an odd spot.  He LOVES all the empty shelves and boxes and oddly placed furniture.  He may not wear a hat, glasses, and a red and white striped shirt, but we are enjoying searching for him way more than silly old Waldo!
Here are a few shots of the cutest places we have found him. 

"Empty bookshelves?  So comfy!"

"Sideways couch?  Yes, please!"

"Desk, smesk!  I need to rest!"

"Now this is the best spot.  I kind of like the top bunk!"

Moving is such fun, wouldn't you agree??

The big spoon

On my birthday, back in November, I wanted to go to O'Charley's for supper.  David wasn't in town, so it was just the kids and me.  I felt sure that I could talk them into going wherever I wanted.  It was MY day, after all.  So I was talking all week about wanting to go to O'Charley's.  I love the potato soup, the sweet tea, and of course caramel pie for dessert.  The perfect birthday meal, at least that is what I thought.

No, Spencer was adamant that we should go to Red Robin (that is HIS favorite place to celebrate HIS birthday).  I was still pushing for O'Charley's until my awesome friend Tricia delivered O'Charley's caramel pie to my door during the day.  So no matter what, I was getting my pie.  At that point, I let go of my plan and decided to go with the flow.

So we headed to Red Robin where my son wanted to take me for my birthday supper. 
We walked in and before the hostess could ask us how many, Spencer announced that it was my birthday.  She laughed and seated us.
The waiter approaches our table and before he could even introduce himself, Spencer made sure that he knew that it was my birthday.  He laughed and went to get our drinks.

I was a healthy mix of embarrassed by his calling so much attention to me and touched that he was so happy to celebrate with me.

We got situated in our booth and the kids brought out the items that they had packed to bring. 
(They grab things as we leave the house.  They always act like we are never coming home again.)
Jessa unpacked her La La Loopsy friends and got them all settled.  I believe they ordered an omelet.

 Oh, and her ponies, of course.  Because what is more fun than ponies!

Then Spencer started playing with what he brought.
I was puzzled. 
But then again, this is the kid that wears one blue rubber dish glove to the store and carries a soup ladle to a meeting.
I don't question him.
And I was happy because the thing he brought blended right in with some other items on our table.

I mean, the large spoon he brought immediately bonded with his Red Robin knife and Red Robin fork.

We all ate our suppers.  And Spencer kept a close eye on the kitchen throughout the meal.

Then, the moment he has been waiting for, a group of Red Robin employees headed for our table to sing and clap and call attention to me.
As soon as they finished singing and deposited my ice cream, it all became clear to me.
Spencer did not want to make my birthday special.
Spencer did not want to help me celebrate.
Spencer did not randomly choose a strange item to take to supper with us.
Nope.
It was all premeditated.
He had a plan.
The kid brought the big spoon.

Happy Birthday to ME!

Road Trips for children

When you are little, you cannot wait to grow up.  Being a kid seems like such a bummer, right?  Grown-ups are always trying to boss you around and tell you what to do.  You don't get to be in charge of what you want to do, where you want to go, or anything.  I can remember that feeling very well.  I could not wait to be "big enough to ________ (fill in the blank)."

I would venture to say that most adults have moments where we wish we could be children again.  Probably because as grown-ups, we are very aware of how good kids have it.  Maybe they don't "get" to do whatever they want, but they also don't experience worry or stress or even planning things.  And I know I am not the only one who would give my eye teeth to have someone MAKE me take a nap any day of the week.  Are you with me??

Well, I recently came to the realization that road trips are one area where kids have it pretty darn easy - at least my kids do, anyway.

Here is a breakdown of the preparations for one of one of our recent road trips.
First, take a look at what Spencer was doing while I got up early to pack, load, and get us ready to
head back to IL.

 

And Jessa Lynn:

  

Here are the toiletries that I packed for all of us. 

The Nintendo DS that I charged.  Well, actually, I charged 2.

The computers that I packed up - after locating the adapters that were scattered all over the house.











Just a reminder, here is what Jessa and Spencer were doing while all of this was going on.





















While they snooze away, their suitcases are magically packed. . .

I also had to pack for Julie, the American Girl.

And there was the cooler, with drinks for our trip, it had to be packed, too.

Then I packed a snack bags for each kiddo.
I try to have plenty to eat and drink, so we can make the fewest number of stops possible

I usually let them start off the long day in the car still wearing their jommies.  BUT most of the time, they want to change at some point on the road (OK, fine, so it is me that is embarrassed to go traipsing into gas stations all over the country with my kids still in their PJs).  It doesn't matter whose idea it really is, I also pack a change of clothes for each child.













Oh, and also, guess what the kiddos were doing at this point in the process?






















And I cannot forget to pack my own suitcase, right?












 Then the car must be loaded with all of the aforementioned things that I have gathered.

 And then children themselves must also be loaded.

David carried one,

and Bay carried the other.

 And then the precious angels can be tucked in for a nice long trip complete with their luggage, their snacks, their drinks, Jessa's DS, Spencer's DS, their computers, their toys, their blankets, their pillow pets, their change of clothes, their movies, and about anything else that I might need for a 9 hour trip.

 Oh wait, what about these guys?
They have to go, too.
And they have pillows and a water bowl and leashes. . .

So it makes sense that I might at times want to take a road trip as a child.
Or maybe I should be more specific, I want to go on a road trip as one of my children.
Heck, I wouldn't even mind traveling as one of my dogs!

Almost Wordless Wednesday

(OK, not even close to wordless, but it is Wednesday. . .) 
 
When I decorated for Christmas, I added one of my favorite vinyl tablecloths to the kitchen table.
The kids were wearing their new Christmas jommies.
They were alone in the kitchen.
I heard giggles and the words "look, we're camouflaged!"

They were kind of right.
At least I think so, anyway.
Well, you be the judge.

 Here is the table before:

To be clear, this is the picture WITHOUT the little children in it.

Here is after -
can you find the two sweet children in this picture?

See, they are camouflaged!

Merry Christmas from the camo kids!

I'm not ready

Just now, my sweet 8 year old baby girl asked me a question.  See, she has several little buddies.  She calls them her BFFs (which totally cracks me up).  And she has even had sleepovers with one of these BFFs a few times.  Her first sleepover was pretty tough to handle.  That is something that big girls do, right??  You mean, I have a big girl?  How did this happen?  She was little.  She drank from bottles.  And now she is giggling in sleeping bags watching movies and eating popcorn?

Well, today, we had another big first.
She walked in holding the phone in her hand and said, "Mom, can I call _______?"  And I said, "For what?"  And she said, "I don't know, just to talk."

And so it begins.  I remember spending HOURS on the phone every single day of my life.  I remember when we used to spend all day at school together, and then we'd hurry home to talk some more.  I got my own phone line on my 12th birthday because we were not in an area that had call waiting yet.  Ah, the phone.

Well, let's give it up for my over achiever.
Chatting with her BFF on the phone at age 8.

When she is a teenager, boy, are we in trouble.