If It's Wednesday, I Must Be Flynn

When Evan was preparing for his 6th Birthday celebration earlier this year, one of his classroom projects was to answer a questionaire provided by his teacher. There were questions on the list that covered the usual topics, favorite this and favorite that, but one question was really unique -"What other names did your parents consider for you before choosing the name you have now".

Evan was due to arrive in mid-June so we started working on names in early March, figuring that gave us plenty of time to argue about it. We worked our way through the baby name book a hundred times and we compiled a list of quality candidates but no name really grabbed us and said "Yes!" We didn't argue over them, we just couldn't pick one. So, in the spirit of March Madness Basketball, we decided to pull names out of a hat, seed them like a tournament and go from there. Each bracket had an agreed upon winner and at the end we had an Evan and a Lucas in the final game. Evan came in first, Lucas won the middle name trophy.

I kept the paper with the "tournament of names" on it tucked inside Evan's baby book so I pulled it out to help me complete the questionaire. Evan was looking over my shoulder as I was filling it out, reading the names as I went along. Cooper, Carter, Flynn, Jack...wait. Flynn? Flynn? Why didn't you name me Flynn. I like Flynn! Mom, I'm supposed to be FLYNN!!!!!

Now, I have tried in vain for MONTHS to convince him that Evan is a really good name, that he doesn't seem like a Flynn at all, but he's not budging. He has actually asked me to find out what's involved in legally changing his name to Flynn. He's threatened to tell his teacher and classmates to call him Flynn. You'd think a little six-year old would give up the good fight after a while, and he has for short periods of time, but out of the blue it will come up again and he'll start asking us to call him Flynn.

I have tried to compromise, mostly by suggesting that Flynn be his special nickname that only his family members use. Not good enough. I've gotten tough with him and told him I'm not changing his name, no how, no way. That only brings tears. So, most recently I've tried to suggest that we will call him Flynn only on the weekends when he's at home all day. That was countered swiftly with the exact opposite - Flynn during the week and Evan on the weekends. Nope. Can't do it. Ok, how about Flynn on Wednesdays AND the weekend, Evan the rest of the time.

Fine, I give in. I'll give it a try, but only at home. At school you're Evan Lucas and no one else. I'm not promising to remember it all the time, in fact, you're probably going to have to remind me every time I slip up (until you get tired of reminding me and just give up). OK, deal.

Good night, Evan. I mean Flynn. I love you!

Make Time for the Yummy Things in Life

It's been a typical busy week with sewing, yard work, mothering, two boys scouting. Trying to find the good things in life sometimes takes more work than seems right, other times it's as easy as a date with a friend at a local coffee shop.
Usually my drink of choice is some kind of decaf latte, often vanilla, but definitely decaf. But not today. Nope, it's autumn and that means my favorite shop now has, for a limited time, PUMPKIN FRAPPES!!!! I really cannot convey to you just how wonderful this drink is. It is absolutely sinful, in taste and calories, and I (should) only allow myself one per season. The drink combines the perfect flavors of a fabulous, ingenius even, Pumpkin/Gingersnap ice cream, milk and chai mix (powdered, I think?). Of course, whipped cream on top. It's served in a big cup with a domed lid and has a straw that is as big around as my pointer finger- so you don't have to work too hard to slurp up the creamy goodness.
If I was a blogger with any street cred at all I'd be able to post a picture of this wonderful concoction. I should have. You really need to see it. Maybe it's a good excuse to go get another one tomorrow!

The Bed of Hot Mama Love

Our six year old son, Evan, has started crawling into our bed in the very early hours of the morning. This used to be a big problem a few years ago because we couldn't break him of his need to sleep with us, and believe me, he was the only one getting any sleep. Finally, after countless nights of carrying him back to bed every couple hours, something clicked and he started staying in his bed all night.
Now he's back and I have to admit I don't hate it all that much. Most nights his dad is sleeping in a hotel far away and I have a king-sized bed all to myself, and I get a little lonely. I kind of look forward to the clanging sounds from down the hall as he climbs out of his bunk bed, the familiar sounds of his detour to the bathroom and the half leap into my bed, flinging "stinky"(his blankie) in first like a lifeline.
The other day, on our way to school, I asked him why he's taken to visiting me in the pre-dawn hours. His answer was rather simple - it's cold in his bed and he wants to get warm. I told him I was hoping it was because he needed some love, not just a "warm mama bed". To which he smartly replied, "maybe I come for the bed of Hot Mama Love". Well put, sort of.