We really have very little control...

We only have one neighbor, and it's a family of four. Two boys, both older than my children but still at an age where they like having a four year old tag along from time to time. The oldest is around 12, and my son thinks he's the coolest kid around. He's always scrambling to say hi and shout from across the street. It's all very sweet.

The other night as my children and I drove down the main street of our town headed home from a long day at work and school, we saw the oldest of our neighbor boys walking to the store (I can't wait until my son's old enough to get last minute groceries for me!). My son got excited and started waving and yelling hello. I waved as we drove by and my son very matter of factly said: Mom, He has his hat on backwards...he looks like a dude. That's so cool. When I get a little bigger, I'm gonna wear my hat like that and look like a dude too.

I'm sure I laughed a little but later, after he was dreaming away, I retold the story (for the second time) to my husband and we laughed together, hard and for several moments. I'm not sure if it was the dude reference, or the fact that he thinks wearing baseball caps backwards is cool or maybe it was both, but one thing is certain, he does not have his mother's sense of style. And I'm afraid it's too late to do much about it!

Needless to say, this is now at the top of my list of strange and funny things my children have learned along the way...

How much I appreciate my son's creativity.

I have an 18 month old daughter and a four year old son. She is fun and naughty and manipulative and a whole lot like her mom. He has two sides: one that's 100% boy with torn jeans, dirty fingernails and rough play; and another that's sensitive, thoughtful and cuddly.

And lately, when they're playing together, he's been bringing out the second side in an unexpected way. There are many nights and weekends I respond to him yelling 'mom' only to find out he's addressing is oblivious little sister. He's trying to play house. Asking if he can play outside; asking to help her cook, etc. And as she walks around doing her own thing, he follows her around and tries to create this imaginary world for the two of them.

When she's a little older, the game might work, but by then he probably won't want her to be the mom and he be the son. But I appreciate his desire to play house and create these scenarios. I am so thankful every time I seen my children using their imaginations. I can't help but think back to the hours I spent creating forts in the backyard. Building homes and towns for my Barbies. And playing mom or teacher to our dolls and stuffed animals.

I can't help feel that it has led me to continue exploring my creative side as an adult. To view things a little differently, and to not be afraid to pursue out of the norm ideas. I'm proud to be a bit of a dreamer and I only hope each of my kids can hold on to that part of themselves for the remainder of their lives. It's a beautiful gift.

The remember everything we say.

It's been a rough week. I'm exhausted. Emotionally drained. Need some kind of escape. But I always look forward to picking my kids up from school. They run to me every night. Seriously, there isn't one night that they haven't come running while I'm signing them out. It's great. But tonight, after they ran to me, they took off again.

My son and his best pal were comparing show and tell toys. I wasn't in the mood for 'One more minute, mom'. I really just wanted to go home and take my painfully cute shoes off and relax. And after the fifth, 'one more minute mom' I could feel my patience exit the room. We finally got out of there and I felt relieved. For a moment.

Not two miles outside of school and my son started in on what's for dinner. I want PB. I want toons...it went on and on. The demands. The inability to listen when I do answer. Seriously it's no wonder some parents go crazy.

But just as I was about to lose it, he says: Mom, I'm the boss. And I want a PB sandwich for dinner.

I couldn't help but smile. It's the line I use when I can't get him to cooperate. The saddest or most funny part is, for the most part, our kids are the boss.