New shoes, favorite colors and hand-me-downs

There was just no clean way to title this post. I have all that to share, so what better way? You will get all that in no particular order, as usual.


It should be said, a brother should not have to wear all hand-me-downs and little brothers should get some things that are his own. Monkey in particular. 


He is so close in age or more appropriately so close in SIZE to Agent P he often just gets new clothes from the room down the hall. Sometimes it is the coveted Star W@rs shirt or the monster truck pjs...and I guess it could be (gulp) underwear. 


But I have draw the line somewhere.


Just close your eyes for a moment and think about wearing hand-me-down underwear. 


Scared you didn't I?


Scared me too.


So, the brothers do not share their personal items.


This week, that also included socks. 


Monkey got new socks. Nice cushy white socks with a small color band on the bottom of them, so you can easily match pairs. (Although navy and black are WAY too close in color for me).


And in 4 days he has taken OFF his new socks for exactly 7 minutes.


Non-consecutive minutes. 


They are on his feet all day. All night.


The only problem is there is only 1 pair of socks with green on them.


Green is his very favorite color.


LOVES GREEN. Green candy, green shirts, green socks, green crayons, green plates, green cups. The list goes on.


How do people so small have opinions SO large about the color that they must have? It's quite unfortunate since Agent P's favorite color is RED and nearly half the hand-me-down shirts are RED. 


And Monkey is not color blind.


But he was completely smitten with me today when I pulled out the socks with GREEN on them! Ya, I know how to win him over! I'm not gonna lie, I am not above giving him exactly what he wants. He has the sweetest kisses and is such a daddy's boy, I do what I need to do for him to notice me.


Shoes is another area I don't require sharing. First sharing isn't the right word because that would imply that Monkey and Mini P share shoes and while their feet are near the same size, sharing shoes would never work.  


Mini P's shoes are pink and often sparkly.


Monkey's are not.


See the problem?


Thought you might.


But to expand on the differences in children raised the the same household - here is the shoe problem we encountered recently.


Monkey got these new shoes:

I can still order shoes for the twins, so I showed the website to Agent P, ya know, to show him the other colors these shoes came in. Like Brown.  

Big mistake.

Here are his top 2 choices.

There is just something about both of these shoes that scream "don't wear me to church". 

He is not the owner of either of these. 

His third pick was RED. Of course. 

He currently has no shoes on order. 

We are at a crossroads and can't figure out what to do. Likely he won't get these.

We will have to compromise.

With a pair of shoes that blend more than scream.

Naps are not optional...yet.

I am a firm believer in napping. 


I think it is important.


I think it makes for better people.


I think my kids should also nap, not just me.


Kidding. 


I don't nap. But most days I wish I did. 


And I wish someone made me cookies and milk each day too...


But that is off topic.


Here is why I think that they my kids should nap:

1. If you do not go right to sleep and you mess around for all but the last 12.5 seconds of nap, then fall asleep. Well, people can walk into your pitch black room, open all curtains and blinds, remove your sister, walk to living room and get the camera, walk back and photograph you without you even knowing.

2. If you don't nap in the truck while driving, even though you are very tired - you may not be able to make rational decisions or act in rational ways. You may be prone to fits of hysterical crying and bawling and talking while you cry and no one will be able to understand you. At all.

Puke bags are a must for all vehicles.

Fall Break. It's a blessing and a curse.  It gives us a well needed break from school and routine. But it messes with us too.


We lose track of all things.


We lose track of time.


We have nearly no schedule to follow.


We try to go out of town.

So, our mountain destination is about 4.5 hours for most people. For us, closer to  6 hours I’d say. We just couldn’t seem to get out of town and we can never get anywhere without several potty stops and just when I think we are all set, someone is hungry. It is a viscous cycle.

I needed to stop and switch out a movie at the store and my sweet husband forgot to exit and so there was a 45 minute detour to double back, switch out the movie…then might as well get gas right? Ok, back on the road…

Then we needed to make a stop for an electronics cord (and yes, potty break).

No wonder it takes us so long to get places.

When we were just about there – the end in sight, like 30 minutes left...it all went downhill (on an uphill road).

From the very back of the Suburban, I hear “I have a headache”. Agent P. Slumped over in his chair...

Then I hear “I don’t feel so good”. When I looked back at him, I informed the driver that we needed to pull over…ASAP.

By some miracle (because God is very aware that I cannot handle puke, especially in the vehicle) there was a small opening for us on the side of the road that we pulled into and scooted away from the road a bit.

From here I can only tell you that A-Dog obviously did not understand the urgency in which poor Agent P needed to get out of the truck. They were both in the back, and were trying to climb over the mounds of backpacks, games, blankets and shoes to get out the door. Not to mention getting around the 2 seats in the middle with car seats and 3 year olds. But A-Dog had no sense of urgency. At ALL.

So, A-Dog (for whatever reason) decided to climb out first (again, he was NOT the one that was feeling ill and took a very big chance being in front of Agent P).  Right behind A-Dog I could see my sweet Agent P ready to blow puke all over the middle section of the truck. His sweet cheeks showing signs of releasing, if you get my drift.

I grabbed A-Dog by the arm and somehow pulled him from the truck like saving him from a burning building. I then plucked Agent P and quickly turned him near horizontal to the ground and swooped him about 2 feet from the truck hoping and praying that I didn’t get hit by puke and that he didn’t puke all over himself.

Again, I’m not good with puke.

He proceeded to puke on the ground.

Apparently I have a kid that has a propensity to get car sick on wavy winding roads.

Didn’t know that.

Now I do.

I will bring a bag next time.