Interview attempt #1

My friend Stormy had a great idea (that she stole from someone else) for a blog post and for a fun memory of her kids: She interviewed each kid with the idea that every year they will repeat the interviews and see how the kids grow/change, etc. Stormy's boys are each a year older than mine, and they are the cutest, funniest kids with very distinct personalities. I loved reading about Keaton and Tucker's interviews. At lunch today, I picked Stormy's brain about how to set up the interview to get optimum participation. I thought I was ready. I had the questions, I had the laptop, I had the kid.

I didn't have the participation.

Here's how Braden's interview went:

Me: "What's your name?"

Braden: "I'm not talking to you."

Me: "I'll get you chocolate milk if you do the interview."

Braden: "I SAID I'm not talking to you."

And then I gave up.

If you know anything about my oldest child, you know that he is the most stubborn kid on the planet. He must get it from the Stutts side.

I'll try the interview again in a few days--maybe with ice cream as the bribe. I think he'll talk for ice cream.

For your viewing pleasure...

Braden's first soccer game of the season was this morning. I was hoping to have new video to post, but alas, the camera battery was dead.

So, while the camera is charging, I'll post a video from a couple of months ago. This was a week or so before Christmas. My kids will hate me for it one day. You may want to mute the playlist player at the bottom of the page so that you can hear the audio from this video. Enjoy!

Heard at the Stutts house...

Braden was in one of his typical grumpy, emotional moods the other night. He was standing in the pantry, and Garrett was trying to gain entry to the pantry. Braden scowled and growled and made a kicking motion toward Garrett.

Garrett screamed, "Don't kick me!! I'm not a soccer ball!!"

Valentine's Day Cussing

Tonight we made chocolate covered strawberries in celebration of Valentine's Day. Once the chocolate cooled, Braden picked up a large red strawberry coated with a thick layer of chocolate and gazed at it appreciatively. He took a slow bite and then his eyes widened and he exclaimed, "This is a damn good strawberry."

I wanted to be mad, but I couldn't. He was right: it was a damn good strawberry.

No more training wheels!

We took Braden's training wheels off today! We've been talking for awhile about how he doesn't really use them anymore, but he has been pretty resistant to the idea of losing them. I didn't give him a choice, just grabbed a wrench and went to work. On his first attempt, he hopped on in the driveway by the garage and by the time he said, "Mommy, don't let go!" he was at the end of the driveway without me!

I yelled for Kyle to grab the video camera, and here is his second attempt:

After that ride, he wanted the training wheels back on (and Garrett wanted his off). Instead, I lowered the seat so that he could reach the ground while seated, and that seemed to eliminate his fears. Here he is again:

Pretty soon, he was riding like an old pro!
I really noticed the neighbors' ugly house (complete with washing machine on the front porch!)at the end of the street in the video, so I shifted my position to film some more (our house is barely in the background of this one. We have the green grass).

Braden's days off

Braden has been out of daycare for two days because he's been sick. He had a 102 degree fever yesterday morning and, while he hasn't had a fever since then, he is coughing and is just kinda puny. Yesterday I stayed home with him. Today he went to work with Daddy.

Here's what Braden had to say about it in response to my extended questioning:

"I played some Thomas games on the computer. He had a desk for me. I played three games before Garrett turned three. I played three games. Mom, when is Garrett gonna turn three? In April?"

"Daddy told me it was cold in there [the classroom] but I didn't wear my jacket. It was only a little bit cold. Not too cold. But then it warmed up a little."

"I think there were fourteen kids in there [the classroom]. They were writing while Daddy talked. They were writing what he was saying. I don't know what he was saying. Some kids talked, but he didn't say shush."

"I didn't go peepee all day when I was with Daddy." [holy crap! The kid didn't pee ALL DAY?!?]

"I had a quesadilla for lunch. I don't know what Daddy ate. And I don't know where we went."

"I had two days off. A day with you and a day with Daddy. The day with Daddy was better because I got to go to work with Daddy. I want to go to work with Daddy again because I love his school. He has a school and a office. Where my teachers teach me, I only have a school instead of an office."

"Daddy's school is taller than your school. He has lots of schools in Huntsville."

Grandma is on Braden's mind...

Want to know how I know?

First, see the post below this one.

Second, he's in bed next to me right now (yes, at 10:19 at night) just sobbing.

Third, about an hour ago he brought me two pieces of a wall plaque. This was his last gift from Grandma--the gift that he chose to open on Christmas Eve. It is a rustic piece of wood with barbed wire (minus the barbs) around it. Three painted boots, made of some sort of plastic, protrude from it, forming hooks for his backpack, hats, etc. Mom told me before she died, before Christmas, that she bought it because it matched his room and he didn't have anywhere to hang his stuff. She knew he wouldn't be excited about it, but she liked it and thought he needed it.

On Christmas Eve when he opened it, he was a bit disappointed with it. I mean, it wasn't a toy. We told him it was okay and that someday he would really like it (Grandma and GrandTom also gave Braden a tackle box, but that was a gift that I had picked out).

I saved the gift tag from mom's package because it was in her handwriting. A few days after Christmas, once things had calmed down a bit and we had a quiet moment, Braden and I carefully taped the tag onto the back of the wall hanging. We decided to hang it by his bed, and we talked about how special it was that Grandma had chosen it just for him.

Tonight, he told me that he took the plaque off the wall because he wanted to see the back. He wanted to see what Grandma had written to him. As he showed me the broken-off boot, he began crying because, as he said, "this is so special and it is broken."

It can be fixed with wood glue. I wish our hearts could be.