Matthew and Martha. As in Martha Stewart.
Each month, around this time, there is much excitement and anticipation in our home, for this is about the time when the latest issue of Martha Stewart Living arrives in our mailbox.
Yes, excitement at its finest.
But not for me. Oh, don't get me wrong, I do love Martha...she is talented, creative, inspirational, and I have, no doubt, learned to make a mean cookie or two from her, complete with a "60% cacoa dark-chocolate ganache reduction."
But it's Matthew who most eagerly awaits the arrival of Ms. Stewart's monthly periodical. Yes, Matthew. My SON. Who is a BOY. And 10-YEARS-OLD!
This is an example of what takes place when he sees the newly-arrived magazine laying on the kitchen counter, which, consequently, took place last night...
Matthew: "*Gasp* It came, it came! Yessssss!!"
He then quickly whisks it away to some unknown corner of the house, where he can sit uninterrupted, carefully pouring over each and every page.
At first I was a little concerned over his adoration for such a, you know, "female-ish" magazine. Why couldn't my son be into Boy's Life or Ranger Rick or even Highlights? Those are great boy magazines!
"He'll grow out of it," I told myself, "Don't worry. He'll be fine, it's okay, he'll be fine, he'll be...."
But then, one day, I discovered the real reason for his affection for the mag. Much to my relief, I found that Matthew doesn't really care about learning how to hand mend a worn out knit sweater, nor does he care about the best type of galvanized bucket in which to place his freshly cut home-grown hydrangeas, and he most definitely couldn't care less about Martha's monthly calendar where he can learn what day she is polishing her silver, winterizing her entryway, and having her Bedford fireplace cleaned before the first fire of the season.
But this IS what he cares about. THIS is what he is frantically searching for when he hides away with the book:
The monthly advertisement for Fresh Step Cat Litter, where, each month, a different cat is featured; one who desperately needs to use the, um, potty. One who is always holding itscrotch paws just anterior to its pubic symphysis and inferior pubic ramus.*
That's what my 10-year-old boy is looking for. And when he finally finds it, you hear a whoop and a holler coming from the depths of the basement.
And then he eagerly awaits the arrival of next month's issue of Martha Stewart Living.
*Raegan, being in the thick of her university anatomy class, was mortified of my use of the word "crotch" and, therefore, insisted I use the correct terminology.
Each month, around this time, there is much excitement and anticipation in our home, for this is about the time when the latest issue of Martha Stewart Living arrives in our mailbox.
Yes, excitement at its finest.
But not for me. Oh, don't get me wrong, I do love Martha...she is talented, creative, inspirational, and I have, no doubt, learned to make a mean cookie or two from her, complete with a "60% cacoa dark-chocolate ganache reduction."
But it's Matthew who most eagerly awaits the arrival of Ms. Stewart's monthly periodical. Yes, Matthew. My SON. Who is a BOY. And 10-YEARS-OLD!
This is an example of what takes place when he sees the newly-arrived magazine laying on the kitchen counter, which, consequently, took place last night...
Matthew: "*Gasp* It came, it came! Yessssss!!"
He then quickly whisks it away to some unknown corner of the house, where he can sit uninterrupted, carefully pouring over each and every page.
At first I was a little concerned over his adoration for such a, you know, "female-ish" magazine. Why couldn't my son be into Boy's Life or Ranger Rick or even Highlights? Those are great boy magazines!
"He'll grow out of it," I told myself, "Don't worry. He'll be fine, it's okay, he'll be fine, he'll be...."
But then, one day, I discovered the real reason for his affection for the mag. Much to my relief, I found that Matthew doesn't really care about learning how to hand mend a worn out knit sweater, nor does he care about the best type of galvanized bucket in which to place his freshly cut home-grown hydrangeas, and he most definitely couldn't care less about Martha's monthly calendar where he can learn what day she is polishing her silver, winterizing her entryway, and having her Bedford fireplace cleaned before the first fire of the season.
But this IS what he cares about. THIS is what he is frantically searching for when he hides away with the book:
The monthly advertisement for Fresh Step Cat Litter, where, each month, a different cat is featured; one who desperately needs to use the, um, potty. One who is always holding its
That's what my 10-year-old boy is looking for. And when he finally finds it, you hear a whoop and a holler coming from the depths of the basement.
And then he eagerly awaits the arrival of next month's issue of Martha Stewart Living.
*Raegan, being in the thick of her university anatomy class, was mortified of my use of the word "crotch" and, therefore, insisted I use the correct terminology.
After the baptism we had everyone over to our home for lunch. I stopped counting at 50 people so I know there were at least that many! I was surprised at how unstressful it was (thanks to the good weather and the boys being able to go out back for a game of football!). Here are some of the "girl cousins" (there are 60 cousins just on one side!).
Dinner at Matthew's favorite restaurant where he got to open his presents. Forget Kung Fu Panda wii game or the Indiana Jones Whip complete with DVD and sound effects, his favorite present was his very own set of scriptures. He carried them around with him everywhere the rest of the night!
