Our Bug Boy

Mason, with his bug board. Poppy thought that three was an excellent age to start one. Mason agrees.

Last week a woman from our new ward came and visited us. She wanted to interview me for the Relief Society newsletter so that the ward could have a better idea who the new girl was. As I am always game to talk about myself, I was more than willing to answer her questions. She was so nice and somehow made me feel like the life of a stay-at-home mom was incredibly interesting. At one point she asked me what our little family likes to do together for fun. I rattled off the various things we Siegs enjoy: Hiking, fishing, going on Sunday drives, etc. And then without thinking, I said, "...and catching bugs." For a split second I felt embarrassed, as I have never heard that listed on an adults list of favorite activities. But then I shook it off since it was true. Mason LOVES bugs. All shapes and sizes of those wiggly friends. And because he is so fond of them, everywhere we go, we cart around a bug net in hopes of catching an interesting bug to warm little Mason's heart.

When we first got married, James told me how he and his Dad used to be really into fishing and went on special fishing trips together. Then, while James was away on his mission, his dad abandoned fishing and he and James' brother got really into shooting. After Bryce left, he sort of stopped doing that, too. Even though his dad was always game to do these sports with his boys, James wondered why his dad no longer fished on his own when it so obviously brought him joy?

A little while back, James told me that he thought he finally understood. Though his dad probably really did enjoy fishing and shooting, he didn't do it for that reason. He did it because he loved his boys and loved being with them. He was being a present and supportive father. Happily for me, his example rubbed off on his son.

A Hobo Spider!!!! That bad boy was HUGE!

Right now, when Mason finds a bug, after looking it over, he offers it to me or his pops and asks, "You want to hold it?!" The excitement in his voice makes it clear that he is thrilled and thinks that we are too! The funny thing is, for the most part, we are. Even though I never before found certain things interesting, I catch myself noticing every little bug, train, or truck that goes by. Every one of them makes me think of my little man and makes my heart go pitter-pat. Love sure does strange things to you.

So let it be known: We Siegs are weird and we like bugs. ....let's just hope Charlie never gets into rodents.....

On my mind...

A Zits cartoon (that I actually enjoyed) found in the newspaper several months ago
Every time I talk with my Grandma, she mentions how special it is to be a parent of young children. Over and over she has told me that even though it is hard, it is the best time and I will someday miss it. I have no doubt about that. I already have moments when I look at Mason and miss when he was even more round and toddley! Don't get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE (I really do) having a 2 1/2 year old, and I am proud of who his little personality is becoming, but I already feel like it is all happening too fast. I am ready for time to stop for a spell and let me enjoy my boys in peace. Enjoy this time when they think that I am so fun to play with and when every joke I tell is the best. When I can fix every ailment with a smooch and when I can snuggle-buggle to my hearts content. I know that every age is an adventure and that life gets better and better, but I am determined to not wish this phase away. Even on the hard days when we have house-a-tosis, the boys are sick, and every last ounce of patience is being squeezed out of me. No matter what, I am going to enjoy every last drop.

Our morning

A normal morning in the Sieg household starts with Poppy getting up early for work or school while Mason and I snooze happily away for a little while longer. On my good wifey mornings I get up with James to see him off, but this is more out of a need to go to the bathroom (blasted pregnancy bladder). Once I am up I enjoy the quite morning minutes with my honeybun. Around 8-8:30am, Mason sends a cry out letting me know that he is awake and I set up the gate on the stairs and then greet my grinning boy for the day. That is how our normal mornings are.

This morning I knew was going to be different. Special, actually. James did not have to work and is out of school so I had high expectations. As I descended our stairs, I heard little Mason whimpering in his bed and headed straight for his room. I found him sitting with embarrassed/confused tears on his face. Then I saw his wet diaper sitting nearby and his homemade tootsie roll on his bedding and everything made sense. Lucky for me, Mason only likes to play with animal and bird poop. Not his own. So, cleanup was a breeze. I thought the whole thing was a little funny.

As I carried the poopy loot out of his room, my eyes fell on a pile of cat poop in the corner. YUCK! A little annoying and gross, but at least James was home and could clean it up when he awoke (I'm pregnant so I can't since it could kill our baby. Truly! Isn't that convenient?). Feeling a little annoyed I started the laundry to disinfect Mason's sheets/port-a-potty and he started bawling. Apparently it was too early to be separated from his beloved blanket even with poop smears. I stood strong, finished, and headed into the kitchen.

Here Mason saw his little Timothy and and sunshine reappeared as he scooped his kitty from the Bumbo that he had been hiding in. That was when I noticed that pee was dripping off of the cat and Mason's hands. I looked in the Bumbo and saw a pool of cat urine. Are you JOKING ME?!!!!! Aren't cats supposed to come potty trained?!!!! Out went Timothy and his nasty Bumbo and I focused on cleaning Mason, now with a little bit of hatred in my heart (I have to work at being an animal person at times like these).

Poppy cleaned up after Timothy, helped calm my mounting anger, plopped Mason (followed by his kitty) in the tub for more deep cleaning. Afterwards, while he hunted for something for our naked little chap to wear, I heard a disturbing thud from Mason's nude direction. I looked over at my innocent child just in time to see a man-sized log roll to a stop at his feet. NO WAY!!!! I guess it serves me right for letting him eat about a pound of cherries yesterday.

After everything was cleaned and put back into order, we Siegs decided that we would all (including grumpy mommy) take an early nap and start this day again, hoping for different results. So far so good.

Thoughts on Sugar

I suppose I should be taking that clump of sugar from my son instead of snapping a million pictures of him caught in the act. But I guess (as it is nearly 2pm) I should also change him out of his pajamas for the day. I find shoulds to be very confining.

I used to like candy and other sugary treats so much that it became my achilles heel. As much as I loved candy, I hated bedtime and did everything in my power to escape it. Every night I would scamper under my parents big bed and hide in the back corner where I couldn't be reached. Every night, after I would hide in my secure spot, my dad would come to me with an outstretched closed hand. "Now Malinda, if you come out, I'll give you this piece of candy." At first I would be wary, as he had never actually HAD any candy in his fist and was known to trick me. Inevitably, however, even the CHANCE of getting my grubby little hands on candy was worth the risk. Every night I gambled and lost. I like to think that it wasn't that I was a dim-witted child as much as I just had a healthy sized sweet tooth.

My older brother, Tony, taught us younger kids what a sweet tooth was when we were all really little. He pointed out one particular tooth and said, "See this? This is my sweet tooth. I never brush it!" The wisdom of a six-year-old.

Candy and sweets of all sorts were always sought after, but there was something to be said about pure sugar. Nothing to distract the tastebuds from it's sugary goodness and wonder. I remember being in a play when I was about seven and being offered a free dessert from the dessert table along with the other kids for our job well done. After perusing the tables of cakes, brownies, coffee/hot chocolate, cookies, etc., I made the finest choice of all. "May I please have a sugar cube?" Maybe I was dim-witted?....

Though now I generally tend to have salty cravings, who am I to judge my sons sugar needs?

Good idea gone bad....

Today has been a marvelously warm, productive day. James actually got to stay home this morning/ afternoon, so we decided to do some much needed spring cleaning. The weather is so warm and inviting today that we have opened up all our windows and doors to let the sun seep in. Mason enjoyed every bit of it...naked.

It was so warm that we figured our little tyke would be fine wandering around the backyard with only his diaper on. After all, nakedness=happiness.

And then this happened. Twice.

What is so interesting about dog poop?! Dang.... Well, at least he is over the "put everything you find in your mouth" phase.

Anyone want me to babysit their kid?

Rex Lee Run

James came home yesterday evening with news that the Rex Lee Run was taking place the following morning and encouraged me to sign up for the 10k. How exciting! I've always wanted to and it would be great prep for the half Marathon that is coming up way too fast. I figured I'd have someone watch little Mason for me (since he doesn't last longer than 3 miles and James works Saturdays) and I signed up. Unfortunately, the evening got away from me and at nearly midnight, I realized that I hadn't asked anyone and it was far too late to make a call. Rats. I wasn't too worried though. Mason has tagged along on many hair-brained outings. He could just come on one more.

This morning we took poppy to work and then bundled up Mason for the excursion. Since I signed up so last minute I was afraid that my registration would not have been posted at the registration desk and thought it would be a good idea to bring my e-mail confirmation....on our laptop (our printer is busted). This was not necessary as I was on the list (I'm a dork) and so without a hitch, we smoothly got onto the starting line. Me, my 26+ pound baby, a stroller, diaper bag, and a laptop. I think we struck fear in other runners hearts. We obviously looked like some major competition.

Mason screamed for 2 out of the 6 miles (I can't blame him. It was 25 degrees outside when we started) and dumped junk out of the stroller (blanket, shoes, trash) making me have to stop every now and then to retrieve his belongings. Also, shouldn't there be rules about slow and fast lanes? I swear! People just stopped running out of nowhere and it took all of my stroller savvy not to plow into them. As you can imagine, we didn't win any medal. But overall, it was a fun experience and I am glad we did it. I look forward to running in this sort of thing again with Mason cheering me on from the sidelines instead of screaming for me to stop from our hefty stroller.

The race made me miss my sister, Kathleen, who is an amazingly talented runner. Even though she is way faster, she always makes me feel like a million bucks when we go running together. It also made me miss one of my favorite roommates, Leah. We volunteered to guide traffic for this race 5 years ago. That was one of the funniest and most enjoyable memories of my BYU carrier.

Under our kitchen table

Not many nights ago, while I was preparing to get little Mason ready for bed, he scuttled under our kitchen table in hopes of stretching out the length of his day. Unfortunately for him, I am not much larger, and decided that his hiding place was as good as anywhere else to get him dressed. It wasn't until I was hidden under the table with my little chap, that I realized that it had been a rather long time since I had been under a kitchen table, or even in any sort of hiding place for that matter. How did that happen? While I got him ready, my mind went back to the many little spots in my parents home that seemed so magical and safe to hide in when I was a child. There were forts in the back yard, the linen closet at the end of the hall, under the bathroom sink (until the day I got my head stuck), and of course the top shelf in my bedroom closet. I remember honestly thinking that nobody would ever find me there and so I would sit with my hoard of toys happily for what seemed like hours on end (but with my attention span, this was highly unlikely). All the places that seem average to me now were so magical in my youth. How did that all change?

I tried to think when the last time I did anything fort-ish. How long has that part of my imagination lapsed? The most recent time I could come up with was my freshman year in college, when my roommate, Heather, and I decided to have secret meetings under her raised bed. We would drink the BYU creamery chocolate milk and plan out how we would woo our current love interests in time for valentine's day. Dorky, but mighty fine fun, if you ask me!

That means that I haven't done anything like this for ten whole years!!! How have I been able to find any merriment in my twenties without a little fort fun? How did I get so boring?!!! If I was going to mommy this little boy, and more children to come (please, please, please) than this was a little matter that I would have to fix.

The next morning, I took the initiative and crawled under our table, much to the glee of Mason. There we sat off and on for the next several hours. We had a snack, read some books, played with some toys, and had some fun imaginative bonding time. Needless to say, it was a treat. One that we will be having again soon. Life is too short to not sit somewhere unexpected every now and again.

Also, don't I look dreamy in the morning wearing my chic robe? James is one lucky man to get to wake up to me! I'm poetry in motion at all times of the day!