Paradox.

Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown. Amen.

Boys and farts.

I recently started babysitting for my classmate’s two boys so that she could attend classes. Watching these boys has been a joy and I often find myself laughing. The older brother, P, is the picture of an oldest child. He proclaims all the rules loudly and commands his younger brother, C, to obey them. Also characteristic of a youngest sibling, C follows his brother around but is also a loving goofball. For example, C has a unique inability to simply sit on his bottom. Rather, he sits on spleeled knees looking much like how a frog gone wrong would sit. (Spleeled is a word I made up. It’s a combination of split and kneeled.)

Putting out dinner, helping them on homework, playing with them and tucking them into bed leaves me feeling like a second mother. When March comes, I’ll be driving them to baseball practices and I know I’ll be the one standing on the sidelines yelling their names loudly and being embarrassing. Also holding onto whatever gear they want me to hold. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if this is just good preparation for what is to come one day.

I’ve babysat many families, but two boys are definitely different from two girls or even one of each! For example, here’s a conversation we had at the dinner table today. I probably shouldn’t have allowed it since we were eating. It started innocently enough with me asking what their least favorite vegetables were.

Bro 1: Tomatoes are your foe!

Bro 2: What’s foe?

Me: Are you talking about foe, f-o-e?

Bro 2: It’s your enemy!

Me: Your arch nemesis! Bro 1, what’s YOUR foe?

Bro 1: hmm, I’m not sure.

Bro 2: My farts!

Bro 1: Arghhh, the green bubbles!

Me: You call his farts the green bubble? Are they really green?!

Bro 2: Yup! [very proud]

Bro 1: Yes! Bro 2’s farts are my foe!!!

Bro 2 then gets out of his seat, runs to Bro 1 and starts smelling his butt. This is when I intervene and pull Bro 2 away. Strange habits these boys have. Are all boys like this? On a more positive note, this was a great way for them to learn a new vocabulary word—foe!

Yesterday, they taught me to play Wii games with them. Today, we watched clips of Dragonball Z. What’s funny is that I’ve babysat for another pair of brothers, age 4 and 2, who also asked me to play Wii with them. How sad children know how to operate these systems at such a young age! Also, I am grandma status when it comes to technology. But back to my point, taking care of these two boys has allowed me the privilege of entering the world of boys in a whole new way. [Note: I also have two younger brothers who I played Nintendo and sports with, but I don’t think our conversations were ever like that…]

One of my favorite times is putting them to bed! I sit in bed with them and read them stories and then they ask me to sing them songs and we giggle like little children. Come to think of it, we still are. And when lights are out, the younger brother will crawl into his older brother's bed. I still hear them talking to each other in the dark about farts. Brotherhood. Love it.

A Beautiful Mess.

This weekend, I attempted to make lasagna for my family.

Growing up, my family ate rice every night. EVERY night. No pizza, no spaghetti, no bread. So, when my mom told me about the busy schedule, I volunteered to make dinner.

All messy and gross-looking, I pull an oversized UCD sweatshirt and exercise pants and forget about what fellow shoppers will think. To the grocery store I went! One of my favorite things is walking up and down the grocery aisles with my cart. Pushing at grandma pace, I look at many things. I take too long trying to decide what to buy because my frugality battles with quality products. I smile at little old ladies and reject the free samples because, really now, I don't care too much for free jam samples. Costco samples, on the other hand...

Back in my kitchen, I toss anything I want into the lasagna. That was probably my first mistake. Onions, peas, arugula, bell peppers and lots and lots of cheese. Layer upon layer, I beam at my own ignorance and pat myself on the back for my supposed creativity. Genius, too.

Well, my lasagna didn't turn out as beautifully as I'd hope. The layers didn't stick together and the top layer was crunchy like chips. I had to use a sharp knife to cut the top layer and then a ladle to scoop the servings. Fail! But, my brother said, "At least it tastes like what it's supposed to look like" and that was good enough for me! A beautiful mess. Or maybe you just can't go wrong with lots of cheese.

I love my family. We are a beautiful, wacky mess, too.