Mommy Christien Holdaway

You know how we all call our kids by their full names when we want them to understand that they are in real trouble. Well, Boston's full name is Boston Christien Holdaway and, of course, by the time he was two and a half he had heard his full name many, many times. (I mean, what two-year-old hasn't?). So one day he got very exasperated with me because he was trying to get my attention, but I was so engrossed in a conversation that I had not responded. So finally he yelled across the room "Mommy Christien Holdaway, come here!" Now that got my attention.

"Night , Night!"

Our bedtime routine would usually go something like this: I would turn out the light in the kids room, turn on their nighttime music and then rock Tess for a few minutes while the boys settled down into their beds. Then I would put her in her bed and tuck her in and then go over and tuck the boys in and give them a kiss, during which time Tess usually had stood up again or at least kicked off her covers. So I would always go over and tuck her in one more time and then say one more goodnight as I left the room. Well one night I was on Skype with Mom when Chris pointed out that it was bedtime, so I asked Mom if we could pause our conversation while I went to tuck the kids in. Since mom was still on the computer while I tucked the kids in, I performed the tucking routine in a bit of a hurry and left the room without saying the last goodnight. As I sat back down to our conversation, Tess began yelling something from the other room over and over and it was getting progressively louder with each repetition until finally she was screaming it. When I finally realized that she was yelling "Night Night," I peeked my head back in the room and said "Night, night, Tess," to which she immediately stopped screaming, smiled, and settled quietly back onto her pillow.

Peaches

We received a bag of peaches from our backyard neighbors. All of the peaches were about the size of a golf ball or smaller. All the girls wanted to see inside the bag. When 3-year old Georgia looked inside, she laughed and said, "They all look like little bums!" And they did too!

When I have a little girl...

It was a hot Memorial Day Weekend in 2003. We were having a Pool party at Grandma and Grandpa's swimming hole. The grand kids were enjoying each other. Well, SidneyJade (three years old) and Jessica (four years old) were off in the side yard playing "house" or some other domestic type of game. Little Jessica was overheard to say, "When I have a little girl, I am going to call her Nona." To which SidneyJade, in all of her wisdom and an air of authority said, "Well, when I have a little girl she is going to be "IN BIG TROUBLE!", punctuated by a shake of her pointed finger.

Dang wind.

We were having a Murdock Pumpkin Carving party. It was being held in Tara's backyard. The moon was full and bright and the wind was really blowing. We had tiki torches all around the yard and some six foot tables set up on a bricked in area towards the back fence. We kept lighting, and re-lighting the torches because the wind kept blowing them out. Most of the grand kids were out at the tables doing their best to scrape out pumpkin guts and cut out crooked smiles. Aaron was helping Jessica and Adam, who were working especially hard. Auntie Tara had been helping someone remove some pumpkin guts and was at the table watching with great amusement as Jessica was becoming exasperated with the amount of wind. It kept knocking over her partially cut pumpkin. After about the third time of the pumpkin being blown away from her, Jessica looked up at the sky, waded up her fist and shook it in the air as she exclaimed loudly and with great clarity, "Damn wind!". Aaron's eyes bugged out of their sockets and he gasped with horror, "Jessica, Where did you HEAR that?!?". Jessica immediately pointed and accused her teacher, "Adom". Adom was even more shocked that he was being implicated and shouted back , "I DID NOT!". By this time, Tara could not even stand up any more. She was doubled over in fits of laughter! Aaron hurriedly chided Jessica with comments of "we don't say things like that" and "don't do it again". But the damage was done. Nothing else could be done but spread the story to everyone who was not privileged enough to hear it. Tara, after gaining the use of her legs, made her way to the back porch and recounted the events that had just happened. Jayson went into a fit of laughter, almost as crippling as Tara had. Dad was laughing so hard his eyes were tiny slits with tears running down his face, and his hand claped over his mouth. It was the topic of conversation the rest of the evening.

Of course, the story has become infamous. The phrase is used, to this day, by many to illustrate a frustration. But to the credit of everyone and the desire to NOT swear. The phrase has been diminished to "Dang wind." If you mention it to Aaron, he still gets a little sheepish looking and a laugh soon follows.

This is REALLY going to hurt....

We were living in Saint Louis, Missouri. Chance was going through his doctorate education at Logan College of Chiropractic. As many med students do, Chance had often brought his "work" home with him. He had a table that he used to adjust a person's back. Well, after one such practice session, our little man Drex in all of his four year old wisdom, decided that he wanted to be just like Daddy. Drex had Chance lay on the floor, face down, arms at his side. You see, Drex had seen Chance adjust many people, and this was the way we were positioned. Chance was enjoying the fact that his boy was imitating him. When Drex had Chance in just the right position, Drex exclaimed, "Ok, this is really going to hurt!" and Drex jumped high unto the air with both feet tucked under himself, and his knees pointed right at Chances back, just like you would see a pro wrestler do. Drex hit his target. He landed with both knees, right in the middle of Chances shoulder blades--hard! Chance's breath exploded out with an "Ohhhh". This all took place in just a few seconds. Drex was right. That really hurt!