Maclaine and me boys

(This is repost. I put it up about a week ago and had an error in the coding, so I deleted it and have just now gotten around to getting it back up.)


I think one of the greatest compliments a parent can receive is that other people like your kids. I have a lot of mom friends, and our general consensus is - embarassingly enough - that we don't like other people's children. My theory is that the closer you are to the parent, the better their kids look to you. Because when I'm out and about, random kids at grocery stores and in restaurants annoy the crap out of me. And boy, oh boy, have we been that loud, screechy, annoying family at times.

Anyway, over the past weekend, my BFF Maclaine was here for one of her beloved and not-frequent-enough visits. My boys adore her, and they were so excited that she was going to stay at our house. (Incidentally, she has a priceless blackmail-worthy photo from last year's visit of Logan wearing nothing but a mismatched pair of my socks while Dex is on the couch laughing and giving the thumbs up.)

Declan of course struggles with the pronunciation of her name. He calls her "Baquain" or maybe "Baqueen" and I can't quite tell the difference, but I'm sure it's the same thing he calls Lightning McQueen. [Sidenote: Logan had the same pronunciation problem for a while, and not long after she visited us last year, I giggled when I heard him patting his legs and calling Maclaine to come play with him. And then I felt hilariously foolish when I realized he was calling his McQueen boombox (that he was pretending to be a dog) to come play with him. Declan, ever the obedient little brother, played the stagehand for the boombox and trotted it down the hall for Logan. End sidenote.] This year, however, Logan had his pronunciation of Maclaine down pat and was sure to explain the difference between Maclaine and McQueen to Declan, who then kept on keepin' on with the Baquain/Baqueenness of his 3 year old tongue.

ANYWAY, Maclaine came to visit. And we loved it. And we loved her. And when it was all said and done she loves my kids. She listened to them sing along (loudly) to various Barenaked Ladies songs. Declan greeted her the first morning with an excited, "Are you leaving today?!" Declan sat on the other end of the couch she was sleeping on, stole her blanket, and pushed her out of the way with his feet because she was too close to his relaxation station. Logan woke her up (and the rest of the house) with his midnight vomiting travels. She heard them throw little tantrums about who the heck knows what, saw them make the messes they make, heard some whining and laughing and everything in between. And through it all, she still loves them. That makes me feel happy.