Lifenut

The Curse of the Zip-Off Pantleg

I’ve been defeated by a square foot of polyester blend. Well over a year ago, I bought a pair of pull-on athletic-style pants for Ryley. They feature pant legs that zip off, transforming into shorts. He has never worn them as pants. The first moment he took ownership, he zipped away the extra material. I told him to keep them in a drawer so he’d be able to find them when needed.

There would be no reason to take the pant legs out of the drawer unless they were going to be zipped back into the shorts.

One day, I was sorting through the boys’ laundry and found one of the pant legs. It was still clean, so I tossed it back into the drawer. But it happened again and again—a single pant leg would find its way into the hamper or even through a complete wash and dry cycle. I’d hand it to Ryley and tell him to put it away, in the drawer, do not take it out. I did not want to see it again.

A week or two later, I’d paw through the dryer looking for something and there it would be—The Pantleg, clean again. After a scream of frustration, I’d call Ryley and shake it around while demanding to know how and why and how and why I was seeing The Pantleg. “I always put it away!” he’d shout back and then I’d retort it was obvious he didn’t.

Everyone else was beginning to think it was terribly funny. The Pantleg turned up again and again. Sometimes, I’d catch it before it made it to the wash, other times I didn’t. Lee and I talked about things we could do with The Pantleg—stuff it in Ryley’s pillow? His backpack? Hoist it up the flagpole in front of the school?

But then, I began to suspect he…might…be…putting…it…in…the wash. On purpose.

A game, undeclared. Or, a new way to communicate?

Maybe he’d listen for my Mr. Bean-ian rage grunt when he knew I was about to delve into the boys’ hamper? I could picture him giggling with a tear or two in his eyes. Mom found it, he’d snicker to a brother or two.

Maybe he did it when he felt he wasn’t getting enough attention from me? It’s too easy for a mom and teenage son to miscommunicate or only communicate about things like the lawn, the trash, the grades. The Pantleg changed the subject for a few seconds.

Today, I had a sudden pang. I haven’t seen The Pantleg in a long, long time. It’s been a couple of months.

I miss The Pantleg.

I missed it so much, I found one and took a picture.

What it’s like to have big, medium, and small kids all at the same time

It’s like sailing a ship through rough seas with sock puppets on your feet and your hands tied behind your back.

It’s having a deep, interesting conversation while you try to remove a crayon someone stuck in a rubber duck.

It’s changing a diaper while someone yells to be wiped while another adds maxi-pads to the grocery list.

It’s watching your child type an essay on the computer about the Spanish-American War while Dora the Explorer blares on TV.

It’s folding 9 different sizes of jeans.

It’s talking about the wonders of Santa Claus while keeping straight who knows the truth while policing what the older kids say.

It’s making the decision between boxed macaroni and cheese and bechamel macaroni and cheese knowing someone will be deeply unhappy.

It’s watching teeth pop through gums, playing toothfairy, and contemplating orthodontia all in one day.

It’s choosing a film for family movie night that will appeal to everyone in the room. (Thanks, Pixar!)

It’s having a backward-facing 5-point harness car seat, a forward-facing 5-point harness car seat, and a couple of booster seats in the back while teenagers fight over who gets to sit shotgun.

It’s trick-or-treating with some while others are at home, giving out candy.

It’s scrambling eggs for the little ones, frying eggs for some of the older ones, making filled omelets for the rest.

It’s having a bottle, a sippy cup, small IKEA tumblers, bigger plastic tumblers, and drinking glasses lined up for dinner time milk. (Which need either whole milk, lactose free milk, or 2%.)

It’s applesauce, sliced apples, whole apples for the same snacktime.

It’s counting toes with a toddler, then looking at your teen’s pre-calculus assignment and realizing how much you don’t know about math.

It’s having little ones who want to snuggle, medium kids who don’t think it’s cool to snuggle, then teenagers who like to hug.

It's having a kid with a frosting 'stache and a kid with an actual 'stache.

It’s amazing and I’m aware I’m pretty lucky to have such a dramatic age span under my roof and in my arms all at the same time. I can see where they’ve been and where they’re going.

Christmas Break’s Sweet 16 (photos)

We traveled to Grand Junction to spend Christmas at my childhood home, with my mom and dad. It was the first time we’ve celebrated there in seven years. The last time we went, Beatrix was a 3-month-old. Things have changed slightly.

This year, we staged our holiday invasion with a 33% increase in forces. It’s always tight quarters when we visit, but we squeeze in and it makes it more fun, somehow.

I picked out some of my favorite photos from our trip, plus a few extras of what we’ve been up to in early January. Are these the artsiest pics? No. Some are blurry. But I don’t care. They still make me smile. The kids return to school tomorrow, so it’s nice to have this reflection today on how wonderful break was this year (except most of us are currently sick with aches, fevers, headaches and a cough, so there’s that…)