Mama Drama

Ninety two

2011-03-10T17:03:00.000-08:00

My grandma is 92 today.

When I was growing up, she lived in Connecticut or Florida, and while we did lots of visiting, it was still only a couple of times a year.

She has always been my biggest fan, and you can see it from my baby pictures. Her adoring smile is the same in every one, even visible through a very bad scan of an old photo.

Rachel, 2 weeks old

And the best part, one of the reasons she is such a wonderful Grandma, is that's how she treated my sister and all my cousins, and that's how she treats my kids too. She made us all feel like we were her favorite.

As I was going back through photos for her birthday post, I realized that since she moved up here to live near my mom in 2005, we have had 5 opportunities to celebrate her birthday with her. For that, I am extremely thankful.

2006: 87th (pre-Audrey) I have no clue where we are, blame the pregnant brain

2007: 88th birthday at La Fiama

pre-dinner with two squirming kids

2008: 89th birthday at On Rice.

Finally, we can sit at dinner and take a photo, thanks to Star Wars action figures!

2009: The big 90th birthday, complete with a private dining room, lamb chops with mint jelly, cheesecake for dessert, and a NuNu memory book!

In 2010, 91 was celebrated with poor photography but good company. She came to our house, which was clearly not good for the photos.

Kids trying to spell out "91" with their bodies. See, Audrey is the 9 and Lance is the 1?? Work with me here...

Birthday pie

We did connect with some extended family, 2nd or 3rd cousins, and had a wonderful time. Unfortunately, we still took terrible photos with one unwilling subject.

And now at 92, we are so lucky to be able to wish you another Happy Birthday!

Happy Holidays!

2010-12-14T23:22:00.001-08:00

Thanks to Shutterfly, now my cards won't be completely late!

But I better get that holiday letter posted...

Picture Joy Christmas

Turn your unique photos into Christmas cards with Shutterfly.

View the entire collection of cards.

Questionable dress code

2010-10-21T22:18:00.000-07:00

I walked into Bitty Girl's room today after she'd been up there playing and found this.

Perfectly arranged, mid-story.

Behold, the teacher bear.

It's even a Halloween-themed story.

Not quite sure about the girl with no pants on the right, but at least she's sitting quietly and listening. In Bitty's class, you wouldn't dare do otherwise.

Wired for school

2010-09-08T23:00:00.000-07:00

Guess which kid is headed for a life as Ms. Goody Two Shoes like her mama?

She brought this "homework" sheet from preschool today - it's not due until NEXT Wednesday, but she insisted that WE DO IT RIGHT NOW, MOM! And no, you can't write it for me. I'm doing it myself. With a marker. And you need to print out a picture of Sammy, my stuffed animal dog that "breathes" because we don't really have a pet.

Not so Bitty anymore--Four!

2010-05-25T12:20:00.000-07:00

Four. It doesn’t seem possible. Our baby girl is four.

(don't ask about the elbow bandage. Major fall and scrape 15 minutes before we were to leave for birthday dinner at Red Robin. She's fine. But, oy, the tears.)

Bitty Girl,

You have grown up so much in the last year, but so many parts of you are just MORE this year. You laugh louder, play harder, ride your bike faster, argue longer, and stand up for yourself more. You are a sweet, kind-hearted girl who would share the last bite of her cupcake even if we didn’t ask. Clearly not a first-born.

You love to laugh, and your infectious giggle makes us all shine brighter. You’re working on joke telling, both knock knock jokes and riddles, and while the punch line is sometimes a mystery, you can laugh convincingly enough to make anyone think it’s really funny.

You are on your way to being a gourmet chef, mainly thanks to weekend breakfasts with Daddy. You can practically make pancake or crepe batter yourself. You love to help with everything—breakfast, toast, cakes and cookies, sprinkling cheese on nachos, and even doing dishes! Just this week you were literally filled with excitement to help make your own birthday cake, insisted on helping with everything, even racing upstairs midway through to don your chef hat and apron.

You can flour cake pans, use the mixer, measure flour and sugar, fold egg whites into batter, and crack eggs.

We switched you to a new preschool this year, the Shoreline Children’s Center where The Boy went, and you are thriving. You have your group of 2-3 best girl friends, and you greet each other with hugs and smiles. It literally said “Audrey is a joy to have in class” on your assessment/report card sheet. I think I cried tears of joy, or maybe relief. You love coming home with facts you learned at school—this month has been sea animals. You have demonstrated how a starfish moves on its suction cups, how long an octopus can stretch, and reenacted the entire egg-laying cycle of sea turtles. Guess you’re a good listener in school too!

I watch in wonder every day at your dramatic play—I cannot believe what you dream up. The details, the elaborate details of where people are going and which imaginary friend is calling you and why you have to pick up your babies from school and your grocery list and your plans for the weekend—astounding.

I do worry about the way you rush around, worry that you are mimicking me and my eternal state of being over-busy. You have to “go pick up brother” or “go teach my class” or “be a volunteer for the PTA and make lists” and so much of it sounds familiar. But you will entertain yourself for long stretches of time, reading to your babies or setting up your “classroom” or playing with your Pet Shops or Ponies.

You are the artist of the family, specializing in little notes and sculptures. You make us hundreds of presents, little letters or drawings on paper that is folded and taped (and taped and taped—you LOVE your scotch tape) into little packages that you hide for “Mother’s Day” or “Father’s Day” or “next year!”

At preschool, you are the Creation Station Queen, and the teachers know it. You insist on saving our toilet paper tubes and other recyclables to contribute, and we joke with the teachers about the “Circle of Life,” how we donate things and then you use them and just bring them home again.

Stubborn? Oh, the arguing and the negotiation! You might ask me what day it is, and I’ll answer “Tuesday.” Then you say, “No, it’s Wednesday.” And there is no changing your mind. It’s futile to argue, although I find myself getting sucked into the Typhoon of Argument Despair almost daily.

And heaven help us if we don’t know what you are talking about. You have a fairly short fuse, and often collapse into a puddle of whining and tears, complete with a foot stamp and stink eye if we don’t know what “thing” you’re talking about, no matter how few clues you’ve given us. Lucky for us, you are still easily consoled, rarely pout very long, and can often be cheered up quickly with a distraction. Or if you get what you want—this is an ongoing issue around here.

For your brother, though, you might just be the best little sister ever. You actually enjoy playing Pokemon with him. Once, when he was going on and on and on about his video game and I just got sick of listening, you said, “I’ll listen to you. Tell me.” He does leave you out sometimes, and has taken to locking his bedroom door, which breaks your heart.

Your worst little sister trick is one that I know and remember well—it was played on me. When he is getting in trouble, you pipe up to remind me how you are doing the right thing, or being polite, or having good manners, etc. I tell you that that doesn’t work—it didn’t work for Auntie Em and it doesn’t work for you.

I cringe thinking about the inappropriate words and tv shows and conversations that you hear and see, thanks to a 7 yr old brother. There is far too much Pokemon and potty talk for my liking, but luckily you seem to have a good handle on what’s appropriate at school vs. home.

I often tell the story about how we were ACTUALLY WORRIED that you weren’t talking that much at 18 months or even 2 years old. Compared to how your brother talked, you seemed fairly quiet. HA! Serves us right for worrying. The other day I had to ask if you could be quiet for 5 minutes, and I would set the timer, just to get some peace and quiet. Wonder where you get that talkative side?

Things you have learned/done this year include:

Riding a bike with training wheels, and not just any bike: a pink and white princess bike
Writing your name
Starting a new preschool and making new friends
Learning to play Crazy Eights
Creating hundreds of paintings, drawings, and sculptures
Planting a garden
Learning to write your name
Taking swimming lessons--and now you put your face in the water willingly!

We are so proud of you. You remind us to say grace at dinner, to get excited about beautiful flowers and airplanes and seeing the moon during the daytime. You share and find ways to include everyone, and really think about other people's feelings.

Happy Birthday - we love you to the moon, through outer space, and back!

Ninety One

2010-03-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to our NuNu! She's 91 today!

Last year we threw her a big birthday bash, so this year we felt like we had to come up with something....

In honor of your big 91, we spelled it out...
OR (see the 9 and the 1??)

Rode it out....

Shot it out.....

and jumped it out...

We love you, NuNu!! We hope it's a wonderful birthday!

I can hardly wait

2010-03-09T08:00:00.000-08:00

I think I will quite enjoy myself if I ever have the pleasure of becoming a grandmother. (If they're good and old enough, first, of course)

Because Bitty Girl is compiling a list, and I, her dutiful yet evidently a FAILURE of a mother, am acting as her scribe. Stay tuned for future additions to the list.

We call it "My Kids," and it goes something like this:

MY kids..... (heavy emphasis on the my)

are going to be able to stay up late. As late as they want.
are going to eat all the candy they want. For breakfast.
will be able to color with crayons and markers in the living room
can have all the crayons they want in their room. Even if they color on their furniture.
will not have to use lotion after they take a bath.
are going to be allowed to bring toys and stuffed animals outside, even if they're inside toys.

We also play another version called "When I Grow Up, I Will Let My Kids"

When I grow up, I will let my kids.....

drink chocolate milk all day
drink carrot milk. This involves dipping your carrot into your milk and licking the milk off
get chips every time they go out to eat at places that sell chips
drive the car. (I usually just smile and say, "Lucky kids!" but for this one, I said - "Really? Before they're 16?" To which Future Mother of The Year replied, "I'll put in a special car seat so they can reach the pedals."

Now to file these away so I can carry on the tradition of snorting with laughter when my daughter complains about her children.

It's the angle

2010-02-08T20:44:00.000-08:00

The Boy has always been a great photographer. He seems to capture angles we don't see from adult height, or maybe he pushes the button sooner because he's not waiting for the perfect pose.

Anyway, he captured some great ones of Papa and NuNu on our last visit.

Papa, relaxing after a long day in the workshop with the kids

NuNu

And her more playful side. Or maybe her "Are you talkin' to me?" face.

Maybe Santa should have brought him a camera for Christmas instead of the horrendous nerf gun.

I took this one, but it was too sweet not to put in here

And I needed the eyeball video camera again, because I didn't catch the best part of NuNu reading the Human Body book with him, and how she explained what your pulse is and how to take it..

My feeble catch before I was spotted.. I have tried, in vain (HA HA, pun only intended after I wrote it and laughed out loud at how funny I am), to explain to him how these videos are so important because NuNu won't be around forever, and he'll want to watch them and remember all the good times, with her and can you hear the Charlie Brown parent voice echoing in his ears? Wahhh-wah-waaah-wahh-waaah-wahhh. Sigh.

This little light of mine

2010-01-05T23:02:00.000-08:00

Bitty Girl is aiming to be the artsy Martha type her mother only dreams about.

When I picked her up at school, she was deep into her painting. Gave me a look that said, "MOM - I AM NOT FINISHED!"

Yesterday she spent a few secretive minutes with a pipe cleaner and some rips of black paper before proudly presenting me with her bird. Look closely - it really looks like a bird.

With wings and a tail.

And then tonight, we made candle cookies. Or assembled and decorated candle cookies, complete with icing "wax drips."

She picked them out from a picture in Family Fun magazine, and decorated them with minimal Mama help.

Again, what's with the obnoxious polka dot plates? Must get some solid color ones for future projects.
That and a blog designer.

I present Bitty and her candles. And it really was fun. Sorry about the post-bath wet hair and the Blair Witch video. I'm sure Martha is shuddering.

Oh, Happy New Year

2010-01-01T20:20:00.000-08:00

We started the new year a few days early with a trip to Celebration Lane. Outside Bellevue Square Mall (or Lincoln Square or whatever they call it now), they do Snowflake Lane before Christmas and Celebration Lane before New Year's Day. Local high school drummers dress as toy soldiers and bubble "snow" falls nightly, with lots of music and, just because we're lucky, NOISEMAKERS!!

One of these things is not like the others,

One of these things just doesn't belong.

Can you tell which thing is not like the others, (or which one belongs to the 3 yr old?)

By the time I finish my song?

Ok, I'll spare you the song..

But in spite of the party horn casualty, we really had fun.

Tonsils and all.

I asked them to say Happy New Year, not Aaaaaaaah!

Merry Christmas from our village

2009-12-23T22:18:00.000-08:00

to yours. Wouldn't life be simpler if we all had marshmallow Peeps snowmen outside and a graham cracker paddleboat to get around?

Need a new roof? Get out the Jujubes. New fence? Grab the marshmallows.

Not quite the Sheraton gingerbread display, but they're ours and they had fun creating them.

View from the top

Bitty Girl's gingerbread yard decor

They're both such sugar hounds I don't know how they manage to get anything actually glued down. Next year my goal is to start on cardboard so I can actually move them or put them together. Somehow the blue polka dot plates just don't scream "Merry Christmas!"

We're all shopped, mostly wrapped, and ready for Christmas. After a big day of standing in multiple lines with the World's Greatest Daddy, the kids have checked Santa pictures, visiting the gingerbread houses at the Sheraton and riding the holiday carousel off their lists.

Seven

2009-12-13T22:44:00.001-08:00

Seven years ago today, I was lying in a hospital bed, water broken but still on bedrest, waiting and waiting, and having no real idea that in just a few short hours, I would meet the most amazing creature who would change my life forever.

I’m having a hard time accepting seven. I read back on my “Happy 6th birthday” post, and evidently I have an annual “hard time accepting the birthday” thing. Although reading the Happy 5th Birthday post showed me we've beaten the Dec 12 curse! But he’s so BIG this year, and doing so many big things. The last year has included: Finishing kindergarten and learning to read, finally losing two teeth this summer, riding a bike without training wheels, really mastering swimming, playing a second year of t-ball and soccer, starting 1st grade and taking taekwondo. He’s taking it all in stride, and while he still doesn’t roll smoothly into new things, it’s definitely getting better.

Starting first grade was so much easier than kindergarten, after the initial transition of a new teacher and not having all his friends in his class. He knew where to go and what the school routine was like, what recess and lunch were like, the office staff (and yes, he’s visited them a few times this year already!). And he can read—oh, can he read! It just clicked at the end of the school year and now he’s reading everything. Street signs (a la NuNu), the sports page, the directions on his homework which he then does independently, Audrey’s books, my email and Facebook (eek!). He reads silently to himself sometimes, and I just stare at him in amazement! He loves math too, and while he’s still far too busy to sit down and write much, the fine motor part of writing is much easier now.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s that he’s rocketing past me and away from me in so many ways, and that’s the part that’s hard. He tells me “no kisses” when I take him to school, and seriously rolled his eyes at me one day when he saw me peeking in his classroom window. I’m sure his thought bubble said, “OMG my mom is so weird. Look at her out there looking at me. Go away, mom!”

The other day I said something sappy like, “Do you know what I was doing seven years ago today?” and he actually let me start telling him the story of being on bedrest and my water breaking and going into the hospital. Then in the middle of the story, he interrupted me to ask if I knew the score of the Philadelphia game. Hmmmph.

Example #1 of ways he’s way past me: Sports. The boy is turning into a sports mini-encyclopedia, just like his daddy. He is constantly spouting off stats, wanting to know which team is ranked in which place in the top 25, who won the game, who’s the best player, who’s the worst team in each league, and he knows the players’ names and numbers. And while he’s still a fair-weather fan who likes to root for the team with a winning season, I feel a deep love of the Huskies coming on, just like his daddy.
Example #2: Taekwondo. We started a class at the YMCA, and he loves it. I was overwhelmed just watching, but he’s clicked with it and really learned the moves. Up until this point, I could follow along with his soccer and baseball, but now, he’s beyond me. It’s a different world, with “yes ma’am” and “no sir” to the instructors, although we could use a little more yes ma’am at home, that’s for sure. But it’s something about the white uniform and the serious concentration and the way he has just learned by watching (the “fake it ‘til you make it” instruction is given a lot in class) and not by ME SHOWING HIM. Pat has gone with him to class a lot, and helped him with some of the moves, but really, he’s just a student in a class learning from the instructor. And that’s such a big kid thing.

He is an amazing big brother. His little sister adores him, and with good reason. He plays along with her bossy little games, watches her preschool cartoons, and sometimes with a wink and a whisper from me, will let her think she’s winning. He is so proud to play the “big kid.” His class had a Thanksgiving feast, and he let her come sit in his lap while the class was watching a video—later he told me he was kind of embarrassed, but I saw how proud he was. Of course they wrestle and fight and tease, but they also snuggle and play and laugh. Lots of laughing around here—usually about poop or other bodily functions or something silly that involves throwing a ball inside way too hard.

Seven. He has so much ahead of him, and I’m so proud of the boy he’s becoming. I just can’t quite figure out how he got from there

and there

to here.

Happy Birthday, Big Seven.

Santa's little helper

2009-11-30T23:40:00.000-08:00

My holiday gift to you.

If you haven't already decorated your tree, I could loan you a helper.

(Note: May need to borrow your ladder)

And you could knock off your holiday baking at the same time...

(Warning: she eats as much as she frosts)

Evidence that it's a long-standing issue: 2008 Christmas cookies

Of course you are!

2009-10-03T22:54:00.000-07:00

Bitty Girl is suddenly interested in letter sounds, mostly thanks to the Sound of the Week in preschool. This week was "C," so they were talking about cupcakes and construction and cats.

At dinner tonight she was making the hard "c" sound, saying "cat, cut, cookie, cracker..."

I said, "And what are you drinking from?" (Thinking she'd say CUP, of course.)

Bitty Girl: "A STRAW!"

And she was. But at least she didn't tell me that straw doesn't start with "c."

The future of Dancing with the Stars

2009-09-12T22:15:00.000-07:00

Impromptu dance party, requested by the dancing girl..

She's out on the deck, dancing to "I Feel the Earth Move" by Carole King. A family favorite of Daddy's when he was little, passed down to another generation!

I had to film through the kitchen window or she never would have danced that long - notice the look I get at the end. But I think the half-lidded eyes is just where I cut off the video.

Warning to all future Baryshnikovs

2009-09-05T19:08:00.000-07:00

Today while Bitty Girl was admiring herself in the mirror or washing her hands or ripping out the ponytail I had so carefully put in, I came in to find her with spit drooling down her chin.

"No spitting," I said. "That's gross."

Bitty: "But I'm a ballerina, Mommy!"

Mommy (thinking I might be able to use this ballerina thing to my advantage):
"Oh, no. Ballerinas are graceful and polite. Ballerinas don't spit."

Bitty: "Well, this one does."

More big than Bitty

2009-09-03T22:39:00.000-07:00

(No, this is not his first day of school outfit. He starts next week)

Bitty Girl went to preschool today. Same classes where her brother went two years ago.

Actual conversation on Tuesday:

Brother: "I think Bitty Girl is going to be a little more nervous than I am this year because she's going to a new school and I'm just going into a new class."
Bitty Girl: "I'm not nervous!" (scampers away giggling)
And she really wasn't. Just tired. Good thing she doesn't go again until Tuesday.

Lots of kids, mostly boys, crying. She went right for the ponies and didn't give me a second look.

The "Special Dinner for the Night Before School Starts," Part I

(Part II comes Monday for her brother)

She requested the flowers on the table, eating in the dining room, macaroni & cheese, soft carrots with brown sugar sauce, strawberries, and chocolate cake with pink frosting and lots of writing on it.

RIP

2009-08-30T21:24:00.000-07:00

Time for zucchini hospice. We seem to be losing the battle to powdery mildew as the zucchini season winds down.

I googled some info and have sprayed a milk/water solution on it, but it doesn't seem to be working. We tried to trim some of the big leaves to get it more light, and then trim off some of the dead leaves, but it's just not looking good.

Chalk it up to a new gardener who will catch it faster next year, I guess. Anyone w/suggestions, let me know...

Audrey Junior, we have enjoyed all your zucchini this summer. You were such a surprise to us - we had no idea you would grow so fast or so big.

Just a few short weeks ago, you looked like this:

And now, I can barely even look at what you've become. We're sorry we weren't able to take better care of you at the end. We'll do better next time.

On a more positive gardening note, our tomatoes are still growing like crazy.

We had aphids nearby and I used some organic Neem oil spray that seemed to work.

Please join us in bidding farewell to Audrey Jr. the zucchini .

We hope she'll make great compost, even with the mildew issue.

Somehow Seaside Survived

2009-08-21T19:25:00.000-07:00

Danger Girl, out for a spin on the Promenade at Seaside.
Many unsuspecting vacationers thought they were just out for a stroll on a cloudy August morning.

(cue foreboding music...)

Little did they know they barely escaped being mowed down by a pink Princess Huffy with rainbow streamers. At least the training wheels rattle so you can hear her coming!

Did you catch the absolute GLEE in her eyes as she sped up (doing her "magic trick") and whizzed past us? You might have missed it because of her extreme speed. Yes, we really had to run to catch up.

We are in trouble. Very soon. Capital T.

And on the Danger flip side... The Boy, perfecting his tricks. Guaranteed to make his mother's, grandmother's, and great-grandmother's heart skip a beat.

Like sands through the hourglass

2009-08-18T21:44:00.000-07:00

Who are these big kids and what have they done with my babies?

Bitty Girl got a haircut and suddenly she's not so bitty.

(and who looks just a wee bit like her big brother?)

The Boy lost his first tooth

and then his second one a week later!

The Tooth Fairy is tired, and Mama isn't quite sure how we got here so fast.

Let's get something straight.

2009-07-26T23:42:00.001-07:00

Straight out of Bitty Girl's mouth tonight:

SCENE: Throwing a ball in the backyard with Daddy. Bitty Girl throws ball to Daddy. Daddy throws it back, but the ball rolls under the pine tree. Daddy retrieves the ball.

Bitty Girl: Daddy, come sit down over here by me. We need to have a discussion. (motions for him to come sit on the deck with her) You need to know that on our team, we don't throw the ball under the tree. Got it?

He got it.

We are thankful

2009-07-25T10:00:00.000-07:00

that she came fully assembled. Bossy, but assembled.

In a desperate attempt at organization, we have been busy with some RTA furniture. I'm actually fairly impressed with these ClosetMaid cubes so far. The main reason I'm impressed is probably because I was able to put them together myself, which is a miracle in itself. Pat is usually the furniture man around here, but this week it's Mama and the Drama King and Queen.

Not to be outdone on the bike riding

2009-07-24T23:24:00.001-07:00

A few days ago, she couldn't even turn the pedals herself.

She's a true Boss, even when riding her bike

and after a few turns, she refused all offers of help!

Way to go, Bitty Girl!!!

Brrrrrrrr....

2009-07-21T22:26:00.001-07:00

Bitty Girl has always called her cousin Grady instead of Brady. The Boy had a preschool friend named Grady, and she just can't get past it.

We've practiced, she's heard it a million times, and she CAN pronounce the "br" sound (see video), but now I think it's become a joke to her. She usually calls him BrrrrrGRADY!

He just celebrated his first birthday, so let's hope she gets it right before he cares.

Snap! go the apron strings

2009-07-20T22:54:00.000-07:00

Tonight I’m snuggling w/The Boy before bed, and it’s hot, so I’m wearing a tank top. His arm must have brushed against my underarm, because suddenly, he says, “What was that?”

I inspected, and it’s not that bad – I think I just didn’t shave this morning. I explain that it’s where I need to shave under my arms and he looks completely astonished.
“You have hair under there?”
I am slightly baffled as to why this is shocking to him, do the “we are mammals” talk, and We talked about Daddy’s whiskers and how he’ll have them on his face someday.

I told him how if I didn’t shave, it would look like Daddy’s armpits.
I wish I had a picture of his face—completely repulsed and slightly heartbroken. It’s not like he has trouble finding fault w/me, but I think it goes against the Mommy smooth skin for cuddling thing.

His exact words, “That is totally disgusting.”

Then when I went back in there a little later, he said, “Mom, next time you come in my bed, could you wear a shirt? That was gross.”

I complain all the time about how he’s too attached to me, so maybe I should throw away my razor.

But I was a little sad to see him think I was totally disgusting.

Wait until holding his hand or kissing him goodbye falls in that same category.

Multi-Faceted Man and his secret sidekick

2009-06-30T21:51:00.000-07:00

It's a new superhero...

He can be serious and scary... especially when he's graduated to doing tight figure-8s on the backyard court.

(notice the Steelers outfit, Auntie Em and Uncle Brian?)

post-Sounders soccer game

And then his lighter side..

posing for the photographers

entertaining his adoring public with jokes at the Willows

Not to be outdone...

Super Secret Diva Girl - no photos please...

Otherwise they all look like this.

Milestone #2: CHECK!

2009-06-27T22:49:00.000-07:00

Here's what The Boy crossed off the list today.

Don't mind the fact that this shot down our street, complete with VW Bus and unweeded house, looks like we live in Trashville. The other direction really does look nicer.

Dad got quite a workout as well. And because The Boy gets his dogged determination from his father, he rode this morning, this afternoon, and this evening.

I won't be surprised if he's poppin wheelies and riding one-handed by Monday.

More like the beginning

2009-06-19T20:10:00.000-07:00

I witnessed something amazing tonight. When you wait for something for a long time and it happens gradually, right under your nose, sometimes you don't expect to be hit smack in the face with the wonder of it.

After a busy day, with The Boy's last day of--gulp--kindergarten, an early morning run to Fred Meyer for emergency rubber chickens for Pat's Field Day, coffee/cocoa with Bitty Girl, end-of-school lunch at McDonald's (I know, don't judge me, it's what he chose), and the afternoon at Field Day, I did not have high hopes for the evening. Pat was gone at his staff party, and somehow I managed to get dinner on the table and The Boy showered.

The promise of stories in Mommy's bed found them both under the covers with their book choices. I wish I had a picture - it was beautiful.
The Boy picked up a book from my nightstand and... (wait for it)

started to read it out loud. It was Little Oink, a gift from Auntie Emmy, and he's heard it a few times before. And I knew he could read. He's been reading for months, in bits and pieces, various words on the page or little beginning reader books from his book bag at school.

But as I stood across the room watching him, so confidently reading the words, stopping only occasionally to spell one for me to help him, I could see it happening, the neurons and synapses firing with connections. He didn't give up like he often does, and this book has words like "savored" and "relished". His eyes lit up when he started to spell "because" and then realized he knew it!

HE CAN READ!

I have so many fantastic memories of reading and stories and being curled up with a book. And while this enthusiastic bundle of boy has so many of my characteristics, I often find myself "not getting him." So watching him read a book with delight filled me with joy and familiarity and such a grown-up sense of connection.

Way to go, my boy. You have so much ahead of you, and we are excited to be along for the ride.
And while it may be more "Captain Underpants" and Batman comic books than Little House on the Prairie or Boxcar Children, the light in your eyes is something I understand.

Except when you're laughing at the poop jokes. That part, only your father understands. Thank goodness you have each other.

I just made...

2009-06-17T22:37:00.000-07:00

The last school lunch of the year.

And just like every other lunch, we have one turkey & cheese sandwich, crusts cut off, half a kiwi, thermos of milk (usually chocolate), a fruit leather, a strawberry yogurt tube, and rice crackers. What can I say, the kid likes to know what to expect. His dad takes the same lunch every day too.

And don't forget the note on the napkin, although I have been instructed NOT to write "I love you" anymore. Too mushy.

Every time I read those little "How to spice up your child's lunchbox" articles, I let out a snort that is part envy, part wonder. Do kids really eat pita chips and hummus, raw pepper slices, quesadillas, or SOUP for school lunch??

We'll just enjoy our summer of turkey sandwiches at home. At least I don't have to make them the night before.

Now that's old

2009-06-16T22:37:00.000-07:00

While in the car today, we passed a cemetery. Out the window, The Boy saw an elderly man walking across the grass with flowers in his hand. We discussed how he was probably going to put flowers on someone's grave, maybe his wife's or friend's.

The Boy says, "Or maybe his mom. Or his grandma, or his great-grandma, or his great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great...

At this point I get sort of irritated and say, "That's enough greats, I get it."

And he says, "Just a minute, I'm almost back to Jesus."

I lost count, but he was probably fairly close. It was a lot of greats. And he's funny.

The final stretch

2009-06-16T09:00:00.001-07:00

Today The Boy celebrates the end of kindergarten. Friday is the official last day of school, but today is the ceremony.

He decided to start the party a day early by calling a 2nd grader a jackass on the bus yesterday. Because another friend told him he wouldn't be his friend UNLESS he called the bigger kid a jackass. Lovely. He lost Pokemon card privileges for the week and got a nice dose of "If someone tells you to do something you know is wrong..." but I promise I didn't ask him if his friend jumped off a bridge, would he follow?

But back to my nostalgia. The end of kindergarten. Excuse me while I get a tissue.

He has had an amazing year. He had a fantastic teacher, who in spite of being about to give birth any day, has managed to make it through the year. She is kind and understanding and puts up with an energetic class that includes many livewire boys.

This year the Boy learned to read, to write, tons of math concepts like addition, subtraction, partners of 10, teen numbers, all about isopods (bugs like those roly poly bugs), sea life, riding the school bus, took two field trips, had recess with big kids, played on a soccer team, played an entire t-ball season without breaking his arm, and learned how to appropriately use "asshole" and "jackass" in a sentence.

He made new friends, STILL hasn't lost a tooth, learned all about Bakugan and Pokemon and how everyone has been to Disneyland except for him. Oh, he learned how to say something "sucks," too. As in "You suck because everyone else in my class has been to Disneyland but me."

In September, writing was an excruciating task that he would speed through as quickly as possible. Now, if he's motivated and interested in the subject, he'll write a 10 page book. And by motivated, I mean that NuNu offered to pay him 50 cents a story.

We're ready for summer, but not before we celebrate an amazing year of milestones.

Congratulations to our boy. We are so, so proud of you. But we could do without the curse words.
Pictures from the "graduation" ceremony...

They read out loud their pictures of "What I liked best about kindergarten." Almost every kid said P.E. the field trip to the beach that was 2 weeks ago, or making gingerbread houses. You gotta love kindergarteners. I'm sure his teacher is wondering why she bothered with all that useless math and reading, or even being nice to them.

Thanks to Grandma and Papa for coming!

reluctantly posing with his annoying mom

Showing Grandma his memory book

And from the trip to Baskin Robbins later - waffle cone double scoop!

Meet my new best friend

2009-06-08T08:49:00.000-07:00

As I get older, it's the little things that mean a lot.
Like not having to fill up my damn watering can 18 times to water the garden-gone-wild.

Pat brought home this beauty after I complained every. single. day about how long it takes me to water, filling up our little watering can. See, we don't have the drip soaker hose thing figured out yet with the garden beds and the hose spray is too strong even on the shower setting for my delicate carrots and lettuce.

Key information you are possibly missing: Pat built some raised beds, we planted some veggies and flowers and herbs, they are growing, and we may be eaten by a giant zucchini.

Behold, proof that I don't really have a brown thumb like I thought. Yet.
May 13 sprouts

May 22 progress

May 31

June 4 - a new MTV special - ZUCCHINI GONE WILD. We had to move it yesterday before it smothered the carrots. I've named it Audrey Jr, after this Audrey, but if it gets sassy, I'm tossing it in the compost. That's her on the right pre-transplant.

The aerial view of her new home. Wave to Audrey Jr. or she might eat you.

Bitty Girl's garden yesterday - lettuce, anyone?? And as soon as those nasturtiums bloom, we can eat those too.

Zucchini, uh, I mean Audrey Jr. happily growing in her new home. We had a close call when she looked all wilty Sunday morning, but a little water and she perked right up.
That's her new home that Pat built Thursday in 90 degree heat, let me add.

Husband of the year with a side of lettuce and zucchini??

A Very Bossy Birthday

2009-05-25T21:13:00.000-07:00

I have a feeling that 3 will bring bossy to a whole new level.

This morning she woke us up saying, "I'm not a baby anymore. I'm a big girl. Wanna wrestle?"

We had a fun weekend, trying not to overdo the birthday business. Partly for the birthday girl, and partly for the older brother who really tried his best not to be jealous that someone else was getting all the presents.

There were treats, including Mommy's attempt at a "pastel petit fours" recipe. They were yummy, but somehow I have a feeling that Martha Stewart felt a cold chill run down her spine sometime around 2 pm Friday afternoon.

There were cousins, and she loved watching them argue about who got to sit next to her.

(notice the big brother face, and the look that she's giving him)

and grandparents (Nanny and Papa's turn is next weekend)

There were balloons

(again, note who volunteered to help her hold them but couldn't hide his true feelings)

And there was a Princess bike from Grandma and Papa.

Heaven help us all. Welcome to three. Nothing like a set of training wheels to inspire your big brother to master that two-wheeled business!

Today she had birthday lunch at Red Robin

was slightly overwhelmed with the birthday singing

had a dip in the pool at home this afternoon,

and wore herself out.

Happy Birthday, Madam Three!

Free

2009-05-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

Bitty Girl,

Somehow, you are three.

Although you are the smallest member of the family, you take up an enormous space in our lives. You boss us around, often using my actual tone of voice, which is frightening. You make us all laugh with your high-pitched giggle, your deep belly laugh, and the throaty cackle you love to use—it’s your evil laugh.

You are mischievous, good natured, sweet and loving, LOUD, and energetic. You prefer to run or gallop as a means of transportation, but can often be found walking on your tiptoes or spinning in circles. This tendency for speed plus silliness has resulted in many scraped knees, and I think you have permanent bruises on your shins.

You do so many things fiercely, and mainly want to do them YOURSELF. Anyone attempting to help or control the way you do things is sternly rebuked, with words and seriously downturned eyebrows. “DON’T HELP ME. DO IT MYSELF!” The stink eye was perfected long ago, but now you’ve added a sharp elbow fold, downcast eyes, pouting lip, and a head shake that causes a curtain of hair to cover your eyes.

A master negotiator, you always come ready to bargain. If I say “One more slide,” you say “TWO!” If I say “Five more minutes,” you say “SIX!” If you don’t win on the first round, you keep trying relentlessly. Or you simply ignore me and go about your business, swatting away the irritating buzzing of that Mommy trying to control you. The other day, you asked me if you could “go outside and boss The Boy and Daddy around,” and then told me “I’m not their coach, I’m their leader.”

You still drop the initial “s” off a lot of your sp- or st- words, and we’ve gotten quite skilled at hiding our smirks when you ask for a “poovie” (smoothie) or a “poon” or tell us to “TOP” doing something.

Your dramatic play has reached new levels, and you tell us elaborate stories about how your baby was “kicking and fussing, and I tried to give him Tylenol but he really wanted Motrin* and he cried and cried and he barfed on his pillow yesterday and today he barfed on his covers. I had to work, so Daddy took him to the doctor.” Looking at your facial expressions and hand gestures during these stories, you would think you were really an exhausted, overworked mother trying to soothe her sick baby.

*And you’re addicted to Tylenol, which explains why you use the drug names perfectly in your stories. If the bathroom cabinet opens or you see a bottle of medicine, you clutch your forehead and say that you have a headache or you feel sick. Never mind that just a mere two minutes earlier you were twirling around jumping on a bed or chasing your brother.

You love to sing, draw, cut “snips” with scissors, glue pieces of paper onto each other, paint, play outside, make houses for the bugs, dig in the dirt, water flowers, do projects and homework just like your big brother. Your fine motor skills astonish me—you can pick tiny stickers off the sheet, cut tiny snips of paper, and hold a crayon or a pen just like a big kid.

You are a solid southpaw – throwing, kicking, eating, and writing all lefty. I’m secretly delighted, but I already feel bad you’ll have the same smudging issue I always did. And you have developed quite an arm – all the months of watching your brother play baseball has paid off.

You love your babies – still love to play “Trinity” daycare and have all the babies laid out face-down with their individual blankets having naptime. You are sweet and nurturing, talking quietly to them, feeding them and setting out lunch or snack on individual plates for each baby. You are constantly busy changing their diapers when they “poop in their clothes” or “have stinky poops,” and you must have a wipe to clean it up. Some of our loudest laughter comes from the sessions where one of us is forced to take part in naptime. Facedown, with a blanket, no exceptions or special treatment for family. Once you told Daddy he couldn’t even breathe.

In some ways, you are fearless. You love to swing high on the big swings (Mama clutches her heart here), and demand bigger underdog pushes. But certain masks and monsters are “too –cary.” We made the mistake of taking you along to the “Walking with Dinosaurs” show, and you only lasted 5 minutes. Sorry about that.

We put you in daycare two days a week last fall, and while you’ve adjusted fabulously, made friends, learned a million songs, and brought home 10,000 art projects, you just don’t love it. You resist going in the morning, and I just think it’s too long a day. We’re making a change for the fall that will shorten your day and give you more Mama time.

Lately we hear you singing snippets of songs from school: Old McDonald, Farmer in the Dell, ABC, Twinkle Twinkle, various versions of grace from preschool.

Suddenly, you are completely potty trained. After a few weeks of boycotting after a few months of stickers on the calendar as a reward, we finally went cold turkey, thanks to your preschool teacher. Almost immediately you were dry all day—and all night, with very few accidents. We caved to jellybeans to get you to use the potty, but you have agreed to stop on your birthday. While we’re trying not to wish away all the baby stuff, diapers is one thing we will not miss.

You love your brother, constantly following him around, copying him, and often terrorizing him. You are lucky that he loves being with you most of the time. You often play together for long stretches, and sometimes even without fighting. I’ll admit it, he is obnoxious and sometimes too rough with you. But you hold your own, and are often too quick to smack him or bite him. I’m torn between my own experience as an older sister who knows all about how annoying little sisters can be and trying to protect you from your big brother who sometimes doesn’t control himself well. And I can’t let you hit him, but I’m secretly proud of you for sticking up for yourself. One minute you’re smacking him, and then five minutes after I separate you, you sneak back together and I hear you comforting him in a game of pretend—“It’s ok sweetie!” So I really can’t complain—much.

Three years has gone by so fast. Lots of chaos, lots of mess, lots and lots of noise. More than we expected, I think. But we’re coming out of the fog, and I can actually see some things getting easier. When you and your brother play together and make each other laugh, or snuggle together before bed, it makes it all worthwhile. We didn’t have another baby because we felt like we had to have two kids, but because we wanted you to have each other. And you do—we do. We hope for more better than worse, and will try to remember the good times.

Love,
Mommy

Serious potty talk

2009-05-23T20:30:00.000-07:00

We've been slightly busy around here, with half-written blog posts, t-ball, spring activities, and roof estimates. But we had to pause to pay tribute to a trusted friend who has been with us for years, worked hard to help us, and who we are thrilled to send into retirement!

Thanks for the memories, Diaper Champ!

that would be EMPTY. Which equals POTTY TRAINED!

And another exciting milestone - potty at the park! Bitty Girl has spent the last few weeks holding it if we were out in public or somewhere with an "icky potty!" But at the park today - she did it!

Big relief as summer approaches: rest stops, gas stations, here we come.

Note to self: Buy more hand sanitizer, and those travel toilet seat covers.

Genes and jellybeans

2009-05-12T23:06:00.000-07:00

Sometimes two worlds collide. In Bitty Girl's case, it's a collision of heredity.

Tonight in the kitchen:
"Mommy, I went pee on the potty three times at school! Can I have jellybeans?"

(background: I finally caved and started giving her 2 jellybeans every time she went on the potty. I know, I know... don't tell the dentist.
I was originally against it, but guess who came home from daycare with the last of her pull-ups because she no longer needs them?? Sometimes you have to do whatever works!)

Forgetting that I'm talking to an almost-3 yr old and not Mr. Kindergarten Math Wizard, I said, "Well, if you went three times, then how many jelly beans would that be?"

And she said, "SIX!"

After we picked up our lower jaws that had flopped open in disbelief, I gave her the jellybeans.

Coincidence? Or maybe just a case of a serious sweet tooth on Mom's side combined with the human calculator gene (and a love of jellybeans) on Dad's side caused her brain to work overtime. Or else she's some sort of a genius.

But now when we say "You do the math," I think we may have more than one volunteer.

Disney's version of Jekyll & Hyde

2009-04-23T21:57:00.000-07:00

Bitty Girl is thrilled about her latest hand-me-down.

In her own words:

If only we had a Wicked Queen costume to represent her the other 75% of the time.

Does Disney have a character who is stubborn, refuses to sit on the potty when she's supposed to, hits her brother, and orders everyone around? I feel a movie deal coming on.

Only a little sister

2009-04-13T23:20:00.000-07:00

The things you learn from having an older brother.
She was playing behind the couch, telling me she was a wizard going to fight with her magic sword, and she holds up the long blue stretchy tube. It's the kind you swing around in a circle and it makes a whistling noise.

Then she decided she needed her hands free, and had to holster the sword.

Behold Bitty Girl and her magic sword. Either that or item #347 in my future blackmail collection.

Navy Monsters

2009-04-09T23:23:00.000-07:00

“It’s a chapter book, Mom. That’s why there aren’t many pictures.”

At first glance, it just looks like one of his many drawings.
But it’s a giant leap for The Boy.

During choice time at school (read: ON HIS OWN with NO DIRECTION), he wrote this book today. It follows some games they were playing at recess.

Navy and Monsters - cover (in color)

Page 1: Navy fights monsters all around. Army comes to help me to fight monsters.

Page 2: Navy fights a very old man. Navy kills monsters

Page 3: Mountain cracking. Navy trying to stop it. Everybody is trying to hold it up.

Page 4: Navy is helping to save the people.

Page 5: (We even have dialogue!) “Hooray for Navy,” they said. Everybody is happy today.

If he works slowly and with help, he can really sound out most words.

But I was completely floored that I could actually read some of these words and understand what he meant. He could read it back to me too.

The letters aren’t the most exciting part, though. It’s the fact that he did this voluntarily--wrote a 5 page book with lots of words and no pictures.

Congratulations to my young author. Maybe he'll guest post soon.

Speaking of elephants

2009-04-07T20:56:00.000-07:00

Name that book…

The Boy was trying to describe a book that one of his classmates lost from the school library:

You know that story Around The World, where the kid has the yellow hat? And he walks with the elephants and the balloon gets stuck in the tree and he falls in that purple stuff? And there’s swirly colored stuff on the cover and it comes up like a volcano, but just a little bit up, and the guy is on top of it with the yellow hat.

I couldn’t place it.

He even told me where to go look in the bookcase.
I knew it immediately. Do you know it?

Elephants

the balloon

and the purple stuff

Got it yet?

And finally, the swirly colored volcano with the yellow-hat guy standing on top.

Oh, the things I could do if I had that memory.

The Big NINE-OH

2009-03-10T20:00:00.000-07:00

NuNu turned 90 on March 10.

We gathered for a special dinner at the Willows

I failed in my photography and didn't get a picture of the little lamb chops and salmon, but I did get the cheesecake!

Cheesecake, anyone?

We showered her with gifts, memories, and songs

The presentation of the gifts

The reading of The Memory Book

She was serenaded by dear friends and family.

NuNu with Flip after her serenade

We took many photos to mark the occasion (not very good photos, unfortunately)

NuNu with her girls

NuNu with her boys

NuNu with the kids

And then carefully walked her back to her room when it was over.

We love you NuNu! Happy Birthday!

At least it wasn't an f-bomb

2009-02-25T16:01:00.000-08:00

The whispers started on Monday morning.
There was talk of it on the bus.
It got lost in the bustle of dinner and my arrival home on Monday evening.

But today, after school, out it came.

"Mom, do you know what an ass-halt is?"

It's a good thing I was prepared from Monday.
Monday one of his classmates came in from recess and tattled to another kid's mom that her son said asshole on the playground. I was just waiting for it to (no pun intended - eew) trickle down.

Monday night there was some whispering about someone saying it on the bus, but we shushed it in front of Bitty Girl and it didn't come up again. She already says poopy butt and butt head - I couldn't tolerate more from a 2 1/2 yr old.

So, you are asking yourself, how did I react to this question? He only gave me about 2 seconds to respond before he told me it was a butt hole.

My response?
Dude, if you're going to say it, say it right.

I told him that it was ass-HOLE, and that ass was another word for your bum, so it was really talking about a butt hole. And if you called someone an asshole that it meant you thought they were really not nice or a jerk. And it wasn't a nice word and that he would get in trouble wherever he used it. Especially at school or around his sister. So I didn't want to hear it.

It was inevitable.
My dad got his mouth washed out with soap when he was a kid for saying, "I can see your asshole" when his sister bent down to pick something up.

And the much-retold story from my mom's childhood was my grandma saying, "Must you say asshole? Can't you just say ASS?"

The Very Bossy Patient

2009-02-24T20:45:00.000-08:00

Tonight. Bedtime. Bitty Girl's room, right as Daddy is about to read her a story.

Daddy: What books should we read?
Bitty: You choose. I too tired. I SICK. I can't choose a book. You choose.
Daddy: How about this one? (holds up a book)
Bitty: No. Choose George.
Daddy: (shakes head and sighs, with the all-knowing smile, and the eyes directed at me that say "This comes from YOUR side of the family!")

At least Daddy knows his place already.

**She is sick, stayed home w/a cough today. But nothing keeps the Boss down, not a nose full of snot or a chest-rattling cough.

Weekend in review

2009-02-17T23:07:00.000-08:00

We had a short weekend getaway to Lake Chelan. I know - in the WINTER? Our big plans of some bunny hill skiing were changed at the last minute because we finally--like a month after everyone else figured it out--realized that Lake Chelan has had NO SNOW for 2 months.

But Mr. Boy-who-is-not-very-flexible was very good when we broke the news. We made big plans for bowling and maybe a movie and candy store and lots of swimming.

So here's how it went..

Saturday: SuperDaddy took each kid swimming. Separately. While I did a dinner run, because that's what happens when you arrive at 5 pm after a 3 pm lunch and realize that if you all go swimming, some small people are bound to be screaming hungry right.at.bedtime!

Much too late to bed Saturday night, after attempting to let both kids sleep in the hide-a-bed. Pack n play to the rescue!

Sunday: Fantastic hotel breakfast. This is a serious free breakfast, with an dedicated breakfast room with waffle station, eggs, cereal, muffins, juice, yogurt.

Then family swimming. Warm indoor pool, but cold run back up to the room on the outside breezeways of a hotel really meant for summer.

look who thinks he's some sort of swimsuit model

but is really sort of a swim monkey?

Bowling at Chelan Lanes

Action shot - PBA, here he comes!

Bowlers

No photos were taken of the minor meltdown that occurred in front of the substitute candy store. Seems that the candy store they visited in 2007 is no longer open, and although we found another store and purchased some candy, Mama opened the wrapper AT THE WRONG TIME. And that would be the 6 yr old's meltdown. Bitty Girl was too busy stuffing her face with chocolate to worry about having a fit.

Recovery and calming down was had by all, quiet hotel games were played, and we had dinner out.

Night swimming for the chlorine-logged boys, early bedtime for Ms. Pack n Play.

Monday: KIDS SLEPT UNTIL 8:00 am! More breakfast, SuperDaddy swims again with both kids. I did help get them showered and dressed.

Grand total for swimming:

Daddy - FIVE

The Boy - Four

Bitty Girl - Three

Mommy - One ( don't know how I even pulled that one off - married to a swimming angel)

Stopped in Leavenworth on the way home for a quick candy store and hat store trip.

Why we didn't ask one of the million tourists to take our picture, I don't know.

Mama and the drama-ettes

Stone Cold Bitty Girl...

who finally decided to smile when her brother left to take a picture.

But your reward for reading all the way through are the best two pictures of the trip...

A little time to get centered...

and a big brother who will hold your hand.

If only.

2009-02-04T23:34:00.000-08:00

Tonight, after a heartbreaking crying session because he couldn't get his "stupid hand" to write the letters the correct way, The Boy dropped this one on me.

"Mommy, I need to tell you something. You know how you walk me in to school and take me to my classroom? Well, I'm going to have you walk me in when I'm in first and second and third and fourth and fifth and sixth and seventh and eighth and ninth and tenth and eleventh and twelfth grade."

I just hugged him and told him that was fine, but if he changed his mind, I wouldn't be mad.

(I couldn't help but smile and feel slightly sick at the visual: Taller than me, peach fuzz moustache, God-forbid-a huge messy curly mop of hair, saggy pants, and his hand in mine as we walk up the steps.)

I think most of his "less than stellar" behavior lately has been from stress. Kindergarten stress. He is learning how to read, but not quite as fast as he thinks he should. And it bugs the heck out of him that he doesn't quite have the fine motor skills to easily write all his numbers and letters. He can do it, but it's a struggle sometimes.

Aaah, the life of a first baby of two Type A parents.

Winning and Losing

2009-02-01T21:47:00.000-08:00

Overheard while The Boy was watching the Super Bowl awards ceremony with Daddy....

Boy: Daddy, where is the Arizona coach? Why isn't he out there?
Daddy: He's probably in the locker room. He's kind of sad because his team didn't win.
Boy: Why aren't the Arizona players out there on the field?
Daddy: They're sad too. It's Pittsburgh's celebration, so the Cardinals aren't out there.

Someday soon, he will suffer a crushing defeat on the baseball or soccer field. And then he will understand why they weren't out on the field.

But today, he didn't really care that much. Because he's a Steelers fan anyway.
Remember he was only 3 during the 2006 Super Bowl, so he doesn't have the deep Steeler anger. Having my sister and the cousins in Pittsburgh definitely helps. Plus he likes to root for the favorite--higher chance your team will win, you know..

Here's The Boy, Big Ben, his Steelers helmet, and another shot of our pathetic tv. I was horrified to realize the glare is fingerprints, and I cleaned it after the photo. I can't believe I'm posting this picture, and I don't know how they watched the game, honestly.
(see below for history of the helmets)

Steelers win!

The helmets are Daddy's collection from when he was little. They were the Happy Meal-type toy from some burger place, and he must have eaten quite a few burgers. We've shown a few to The Boy, but a couple of weeks ago, he broke out the whole collection. At bedtime.
At least Mama was off the hook for getting him to bed. Once the sports questions start, I am officially off duty. I have trouble hiding my glee when that happens, and have been known to snicker out loud. I deserve it, after 6 years of being the preferred bedtime "tuck-er in-er."

Nostalgia, sniff, sniff.

2009-01-28T23:21:00.000-08:00

It really has surprised me, this weird, wistful nostalgia as Bitty Girl grows and passes milestones. We don't want another baby. Not even a little bit.

It's just the thought of never having another baby in the house seems so odd and final. And while we (meaning dear husband) love to get rid of baby things we won't ever use again, it gives me a twinge of the heart to say goodbye to them forever.

And I spend so much time thinking about how much easier some things will be when they're older, that I surprise myself when I get caught thinking that I love some things just the way they are. Or the way they were.

Bitty Girl was riding her trike today, and I guess it's been a while since I've seen her on it. Somehow she can get on and off by herself, reach the pedals, back up, and lean precariously off the side without falling.

Yes, I fixed her helmet after the picture.

Here's a little cycling action. Just because you can reach pedals doesn't mean you have to use them. Look out Lance Armstrong!

Maybe it's the big girl bed that's making me all sappy. She loves it, and has slept wonderfully in it from the start. She does say that she misses her crib sometimes, and I think, "So does Mama." I love being able to lie down and snuggle with her, but it's a BIG GIRL BED.

(updated picture with less obnoxious purple comforter coming soon)

And she wants to walk everywhere by herself. Which is good--30 pounds is heavy to lug around. But it's such a big girl thing to walk up the stairs at the Y or out in a parking lot. Lucky she still likes to hold my hand.
And eat big sandwiches. No crusts, please.

Just kidding. She still lets me cut her sandwiches. This was just one time she asked for the big one.

Did we watch?

2009-01-20T21:37:00.001-08:00

Yes we did!

Are we excited?

Yes we are! (click the photo to see what excited looks like up close)

This is what hope for the future looks like. But usually she has neater hair.

And her Daddy hopes that the future brings a bigger television.

Speaking of moments...

2009-01-17T22:26:00.000-08:00

This one will never come again.

Sweet little piggies sticking out of the bars of her crib.

Because tomorrow we put up her big girl bed.

Yes, I know we really should wait until she crawls out of her crib on her own, or take the front railing off the crib first. But we found a bed we liked, she's excited about it, so we're going for it.

She's excited about it. Not quite sure if Mama is ready for this. I can't help myself--I've been sneaking in to take pictures of her while she's sleeping. "Last Days in the Crib" photos. I keep waiting for her to wake up and ask what the heck I'm doing.

Sick, I know... But she's so snuggly.

She'll probably need these as proof for her therapist to explain the weird dreams and fears of flashing lights at night.

I am excited for the matching blankets thing. Looking at the mishmosh color combos in these pictures hurts my eyes. Maybe if I turn off the camera and leave her to sleep in the dark, the colors wouldn't bother me so much.

sniff, sniff. Stay tuned for the Big Girl Bed update. We hope excited about the bed = will sleep in new bed as well as in crib.

Excuse us while we have a moment.

2009-01-14T22:15:00.001-08:00

To you, it's nothing special, but it made me cry the other day.

This music box has been with us for six years. It's part of the infant mobile set we got when the Boy was born.

At first, I thought it was completely obnoxious and that it would scare him. Plus it didn't match his nursery decorations very well. But it got great reviews, so we tried it.

My mom put him in the crib under the crazy mobile at about 6 weeks and he was completely transfixed. The love affair continued until he was old enough to roll up onto his side and grab it, and then again after a brief pause and crib mattress-lowering.

The music box was the best part. Because after he was too big to have the mobile hanging over his crib, we kept the music box around for bedtime music. It was calm, soothing, and lasted 15 minutes, way longer than the wind up mobiles. We took it to Grandma's house, and on vacation with us. It was a part of the family!

I still remember the day he said, "Mommy. No music. Take it out of my room please." He was about 2 1/2.

So we packed it up until Bitty Girl came along. Somewhere along the way the mobile stopped spinning around, so she mostly just got the music box. But we loved it, for 2 1/2 more years. Then one day, she asked for it to come off her crib, and for "no music please." But she still wanted to play with it, so it soothed her dollies to sleep for a few weeks.

But now we decided it's time to pass it on to another baby. And I got a little sad. And cried.

Since Bitty Girl is the last one, there are a lot of "lasts" coming up with her.

We thought about keeping it, but you know, a 36 yr old with a baby music box on her dresser is just a little bit weird.

Mini Martha

2009-01-10T22:28:00.000-08:00

On our last visit to see my mom, Bitty Girl started what I hope is a life of being a better party-thrower than her Mama.

Her first big step was asking if she could go over and play at Auntie Caff-rin's house by herself. (Auntie Catherine's house is another unit in cohousing, about 500 feet from my mom's unit, just a walk down the path)

She said, "Mommy, can I go to Caff-rin's house?

I said, "By yourself with Catherine?"

She said, "Yes!"

When I said ok, she ran over to my aunt and said excitedly, "My mom said I can go!!"

A little while later we received a phone call from Bitty Girl, inviting us to her party. The Boy was busy with Papa Steve, building something in the shop, but they agreed to stop by. Daddy and I walked upstairs, but left Nanny at her place, thinking Bitty Girl wouldn't care. Oops.

When we arrived, we were greeted by the Hostess with the Mostess, apron and all. Who was in no mood for a photo shoot, let me tell you--she had a party to throw!

The party was set for eight, and the menu consisted of raisins, baby carrots, bread, crackers, oranges, and water. (She kind of sprung the idea on Auntie Caff-rin, who didn't have much time to shop!)

The one minor snag was when she realized my mom wasn't coming up. Very sad pouting, very large lower lip. A quick phone call to DEMAND Nanny's presence remedied the situation, and up she came.

The Hostess seated us all and commanded us to eat.

(Added to the Very Bossy list: Very Bossy Dinner Party)

She was very gracious, hugged each of her guests and thanked us for coming.

But I think she left the dishes for Auntie Caff-rin.

Noooooooooooo!

2009-01-04T22:22:00.000-08:00

At least two inches tonight.

I've never wished so hard for rain.

Note to white frozen stuff falling from the sky:

You are no longer welcome here. On my mat or anyone else's. We need a break. We need school. We need our routines back.

A different kind of angel

2008-12-26T11:43:00.000-08:00

The angel I married.

Did this.

So The Boy could do this.

Thanks Daddy!

Happy, Merry Everything!

2008-12-25T20:10:00.000-08:00

From our little monkeys to you.

And yes, it snowed again today. Praying for melting.....

Two Thousand Eight

2008-12-23T22:27:00.000-08:00

also known as The Year the Snowstorm Caused a Little More Drama Than Usual.

So far, we have survived. Barely. If more snow arrives, we can't promise how Mommy will do.

Bitty Girl asked, "Mommy, what do you want for Christmas?"
I replied, "I WANT THE SNOW TO MELT FOR CHRISTMAS!"

Luckily, we had pictures taken before the snow arrived to make our lives difficult.

Thanks to Sara Montgomery, sister of my friend Kaia and talented photographer, for making us look better than we usually do!

Whew! We took one by the tree in case we don't make it for a Santa picture by tomorrow!
And look - they stood nicely together without arguing for approximately 5 seconds!

Someone cleans up well! (makes up for the World's Worst School Picture 2008)

She even managed to capture a real smile, which is elusive these days.

Bitty Girl didn't mind posing....

Especially if she had her favorite dolly.

We are sending lots of love and holiday wishes that you find much peace, laughter, and happiness in your lives in 2009.

Hold the 's'

2008-12-22T20:00:00.000-08:00

We have noticed that 2 yr olds tend to drop the beginning letter "s" from their words.

Bitty Girl's droppage has been a source of much entertainment around here.

"I need a _poon!"

"The Boy _pit on me!"

"I want _prinkles on my cupcake"

"The water _prayed on me"

"That is too _cary" (usually about one of her brother's movies or books)

"My _paghetti looks like a _pider"

"Santa going to put presents in my _tocking"

"I dizzy because I _pin around and around"

"I got a _ticker for going pee on the potty!"

"This ribbon is _parkly"

"Papa _teve pulled weeds with me"

"_top it, Lance!"

"I want to _pread the butter all. by. myself!"

"Twinkle, twinkle, little _tar!"

"At _chool (pronounced cool), teacher Crystal rub my back for nap"

And another random but darling one:

"I want to see Maggie's picture on the ___puter" (computer)

But by far the best one of the day... almost made me forget about the 5 day snowstorm...

Bitty Girl to me as she surveys the living room, trying to figure out the best baby doll napping placement:

"This needs to be a all baby place. Why you put all those toys here?"

(Said accusingly, as she points to her brother's twelve birthday gifts that are under the Christmas tree, for lack of a better place until we sort things out, post-Christmas carnage)

Me: "Where should I put them?"

Bitty G: "In the SAMILY room!"

Samily. A room for hugs. And toys. I should have known. Silly Mama.

Trying to overcome my grinchiness

2008-12-21T21:50:00.000-08:00

I am trying to be "one with the snow." To not be so grouchy. To focus on the family together time and the beautiful snowy world outside instead of the trapped feeling, the missed work, and the way my kids have morphed into the most annoying children ever.

But I'm struggling. I just want it to stop. I know we're lucky because we haven't lost power, because we are warm and safe and dry. I'm lucky because I have Pat home on vacation too, and am not stuck home by myself with abovementioned children.

Some lovely footage shot this morning...

The view out the front door. Right out the door, under the covered porch.

Walkway? What walkway?

The area formerly known as a driveway, and way in the distance, frozen lumps formerly known as the garbage cans.

A snowy day in the forest... I mean, my front yard

Our covered patio. And by covered, I mean covered in SNOW

Sandbox, you say? Where? (see the lump?)

Crazy boys, including one wonderful, dedicated father who braved the 15-degree evening for some snow baseball

In the words of my sister from Pittsburgh to the cities in and around Seattle:

"It's called salt, people. Use it." I do not understand why we can't salt and plow better for just a few weeks. For the sanity of everyone involved.

Blech.

2008-12-18T22:33:00.000-08:00

I'll admit it. I'm a Snow Grouch.

I just don't like the snow.

It's not the snow itself, it's the disruption in my schedule, the being cold, and the trapped grouchy feeling. And this time, it's the fact that we already had snow and it's super cold and it's not going away anytime soon. I don't live in the Midwest for a reason.

I wish I loved it. I wish I felt peaceful and happy and could just curl up on the couch with a book and a blanket and some tea.

But I have kids. Kids who are just as sensitive as their mama to disruptions in their schedule. One kid who likes the idea of the snow, but who plays in the snow for less time than it takes to get her ready for going out in the snow.

And another kid who loves to play in the snow, go sledding, and never gets cold. Except he's bitter that the snow ruined his post-birthday dinner with his cousins.

At least someone is enjoying himself.

Until June, that is--when he has to make up the 3 snow days.

Stone cold Bitty Girl

2008-12-14T23:20:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I told Bitty Girl it was time to clean up her dolls in the living room.

See previous references to the group sleepovers that have been a regular occurrence--all of her dolls and stuffed animals, placed neatly face-down on various pillows and each covered with a blanket, COVERING my living room floor.

This is definitely from my side of the family--my sister and I had weekly "birthday" parties, where all the stuffed animals would be lined up on the couch.

Bitty examples:

Who me?

Naptime with the babies

Story time

Aerial view - Daddy says this reminds him of Jonestown

Her response to my request? "No, you clean them up."

I patiently explained that it was her job to clean them up, and if she didn't, the dolls would be put in "time-out" for today and she couldn't play with them.

She looks me right in the eye, 100% stone cold serious poker face, and says,

"I find them. I sneak."

SNEAK? A 2 year old? Who does she think she is? And where did she learn that word?

I stayed calm, masking my horrified giggles, and explained that she would not sneak and that I would help her clean them up. Before she had any dessert.

Mommy has to save her trump for the end.

2190 days=72 months=6 years old

2008-12-14T15:20:00.000-08:00

To our 6 year old boy,

I really can't believe it. Six.
Maybe it's because it sounds like SIXTEEN, maybe it's the kindergarten thing, or just that you are so long and tall and grown-up these days.

Every year at this time, I find myself wanting to hold you and snuggle more than usual. When the Christmas decorations come out, and we pull out the Christmas tree snow globe that I got from Grandma and Papa while in the hospital with you, I can remember it all.

That crazy pre-Christmas of 2002, where nothing else really mattered and we got to bring home our best present ever on Christmas Day. That little tiny present who peed through a million outfits that first night, who squeaked and squealed and slept every minute you weren't eating for several weeks. Who we kept sequestered for months, avoiding the germs of flu season and other kids.

Today Daddy was talking to you about the day you were born, and I cried remembering that time between 3:30 pm and 6:00 pm when he was up in the NICU with you before I was cleared to go up and visit you. Those hours I didn't realize I had missed, and that don't really matter now, but they still make me cry thinking about it. And we realized how thankful we were--again--that your sister arrived on time, so that you didn't have to wait 11 days to see her, since they don't allow kids in the NICU.

You, thankfully, have had no problems related to your early arrival. Except the fact that your birthday falls eleven days before Christmas. And it's always crazy busy during that time, we have to schedule around holiday parties and the toy stores are sold out. You are tall and smart and healthy and funny--I think I called you a "delightful tornado" one year. You're still delightful, still a tornado.

Since your 5th birthday, you have played on your first t-ball team, broken your arm, gotten four stitches in your eyebrow (a week after your cast came off), played on your first soccer team, and started kindergarten. It's been a big year. You're this close to reading on your own, and I expect it will click any day. You know all the letters and sounds, but the part of actually sitting still long enough to carefully grip your pencil and focus on forming your letters is usually more than you're willing to tolerate for long. You tend to rush through things so you can be the first one done, the first one to do whatever comes next. You have a brain for numbers, like your Daddy, and can add and subtract numbers in your head, love to count everything, and enjoy number games. We even made an equation cake, with 3 + 3 = 6. Ok, so it was because we didn't have a #6 candle, but you still loved it.

School has been an easier transition than we expected, although I wouldn't call it easy. You are still exhausted from all-day kindergarten, but you have an amazing teacher and have made lots of new friends. You are happy at the new school, and we love being five minutes away. Knowing a few kids from soccer definitely helped your comfort level, and you know lots of kids from your class and older kids from recess and class buddies.

We're just experiencing what we've come to expect as the "annual wave of obnoxious" right before your birthday, so we have high hopes for January. Something about holidays and birthday all rolled into one season is a lot for anyone.

Your birthday party was waaaaaay too big and a bit overwhelming, especially for you. I know it's over and you had fun in the end, but I still feel responsible, like I should have predicted it. But I hope you felt celebrated. And by the way, we'll never do that again. Ever.

It may not snow for Christmas, but you had a white birthday. Two inches of snow.. not enough for sledding or snowmen, but enough for a pathetic Northwest snow angel-where-you-can-see-the-deck-poking-through or two..

Wheeeee! It's my birthday!

Angel #1

Angel #2

It's official.

2008-12-13T22:43:00.000-08:00

I am officially insane. But I survived.

The Boy's birthday party was today, and we made it. It got slightly out of hand with the invite list and ended up being 12 boys plus The Birthday Boy. Amazingly, they were great.

An hour of bowling, then pizza and cake and some video games.

Bowling..

See? Insane.

No drama, you ask yourself? Of course we have drama. We ALWAYS have drama.

Mr. Competitive had a slight meltdown during the bowling when he realized he wasn't winning, made a few wild tosses. One of these tosses knocked the bumpers down (they put the bumpers out covering the gutters for the little bowlers) so he managed to throw the only gutterball of the afternoon. Oops. He also threw the ball up onto the bumper, so it rolled down his own private gutter.

But he recovered, and I think the other kids barely noticed. Then it was time to eat and he even survived the candles not blowing out on the first few blows. See the smile?

The secret star of the show? Bitty Girl. No interest in bowling, but she just played around the whole time, sat in one of the riding toy cars, and enjoyed a big piece of cake. Angel.

She was only sad when we got home and she realized none of the presents were for her. Waah.

The worst part about inviting 12 kids to a party? You guessed it. Twelve freakin' presents. And he's 6, so I can't exactly donate them all to Toys 4 Tots. But I can cut back what he is getting for Christmas and donate stuff he doesn't know about yet.

But Mama was amazingly calm, so we'll call the day a success, and never have that big of a party again. At least it wasn't at my house so I didn't have to clean up.

Second time around

2008-12-11T22:31:00.001-08:00

Since December 12 is a big day in Mama Drama Family history, I'm cringing with nervous anticipation. I think it's supposed to snow. Which would be nothing compared to some of our December 12ths in history.
See 2007 post for details...

But back to my mortification:

Last year I used these words to describe The Boy at 4:
At Nearly-Four, he was just beginning the transformation (to use one of his favorite action figure lines) into a full-fledged, marketed-by-Target-and-Toys-R-Us preschool boy!

Ummmm.. Today I overheard Madam 2 1/2 saying to herself, "Dear Santa, Please bring me some toys. I want a purple horse and some bath toys and a dolly." And every night at dinner, when we're saying grace and what we're thankful for, she says, "I thankful Christmas is coming!"

Transformation complete. 18 months ahead of schedule. Yikes.

It is frightening to see how much earlier younger siblings get the whole television, Halloween candy, Easter candy, Christmas presents, birthdays, toys stores, and treats at Starbucks thing.

On a good note, she also drank from an open cup earlier, can practically dress herself, plays alone for long periods of time, plays with Play-doh rather than eating it, waits patiently at times, doesn't mind if her choice isn't the chosen option, and--please Santa---will be potty trained before she's 3.

I tell myself that 2nd babies will be better adjusted people in the long run, more able to go with the flow, share and compromise, and stand up for themselves. That will help them combat the rotten teeth and early addictions to age-inappropriate cartoons.

Good news and bad news

2008-12-10T22:24:00.000-08:00

As an alternative to the daily kindergarten journal writing, The Boy's fabulous teacher gave them a news assignment. They picked Good News or Bad/Sad News and had to write two sentences and draw a picture about their story.

The good news is that he dashed off two sentences willingly, with just some help from me sounding out the words. If you've been following the drama around here, you know about the new love of football. (Pssst... I am very close to being off the hook for most of the sports discussions around here)

If you can't see the photo very well (sorry, dark kitchen..), I'll interpret

THE SEHOCS LOST TO THE PATREOTS. THR QUORTRBAC WS INJRD.

The Seahawks lost to the Patriots. Their quarterback was injured. That was bad news.

And yes, those are shoulder pads and face masks in the picture. Remember, there are lots of fun activities to do when you get done with your news story, so why spend the whole writing time on your picture??

A Birthday Tale

2008-12-03T21:43:00.000-08:00

Today is my-ahem--27th or something like that--birthday. I've stopped counting.

(Note to younger sister: That makes you 25, please take note)

Picture if you will, an evening spent in the company of my lovely husband and beautiful children, phad thai noodles, holiday lights and music, handmade cards and gifts, and a family sweet enough to want to surprise me.

Sounds nice, doesn't it? It was nice, but not quite what you think.

I worked today, and planned to come home early enough for what I expected would be birthday dinner prepared by Grandma, as she often does on Wednesday evenings because she's an ANGEL who feeds her son's starving family.

Little did I know that darling husband had secretly plotted to cancel that dinner because he was going to sneak the kids downtown and sweep me away for a surprise birthday dinner. Except that kind of planning isn't easily done as a surprise. I have been known to ruin surprises, to drag them out of people kicking and screaming--it's not pretty.

So when I said I would come home early for dinner, he got nervous and had to tell me. So we planned for the kids to still think it would be a surprise. And we got realistic about the dinner idea. The kids know about the downtown holiday carousel and they know they ate at McDonald's before the carousel last year. So rather than struggle with tired, grouchy picky eaters who have been away from Mommy and Daddy all day, we gave in to the french fries.

So my lovely birthday did consist of a surprise visit downtown, handmade cards, and I did get Thai food from the food court at Westlake while the kids got McDonald's. We did see holiday lights and hear music while on the carousel. And no fits were thrown about McD's being out of the Madagascar toys and happily accepted the Hot Wheels car. Sometimes they amaze us.

Before you pronounce them perfect angels, the evening also involved drumming with chopsticks, whining about wanting to stay later, and crying in the car about where Mommy would sit since the front seat was full.

But you know, we'll take what we can get. And husband gets full points for planned surprise, thoughtfulness, handmade cards, and effort.

Proof of carousel ride. Some people get holiday card-worthy poses, we just get noncompliant almost-6 yr old attitude. Oh well, at least we remembered the camera...

Mama Grinch

2008-12-01T22:49:00.000-08:00

I am the Grinch who ruined the Christmas spirit. Partly exhaustion, partly poor planning, but all the way my fault.

We didn't get a chance to get the Christmas decorations out this weekend because we were busy with family gatherings. So today after I picked up the kids at school and we had dinner, I made a bad decision to try some decor unpacking. No tree, just decorations, snowmen, advent calendar, table decorations.

But instead of putting on some music and making it a nice evening, I became the Christmas Grinch.
"Don't touch that! It's fragile!"
"Be careful - that might break!"
"Wait until I'm ready to unpack that!"
"Leave that one here!"
"Hands off!"

Very nice. Great example of the holiday spirit. And all the while, Bitty Girl is exclaiming, "This one is my favorite!" Since she can't remember last year, they're all her favorite!
The Boy was really trying to help, he just got excited. Nothing broke, and so what if it did?

She took all the Christmas bears and dollies and put them to sleep under the holiday placemats and dish towels. Life as usual, just with a holiday style.

The Grinch's heart felt slightly guilty and she vowed to try harder for the rest of the season.

Sliding into home

2008-11-30T23:16:00.000-08:00

I did it. 30 posts in 30 days, and it has just about ended me. I would really like to post more often, and if I got more organized, maybe I could save all those funny stories about my kids and post with some regularity.

But really, I'm just staying up too late at night. And after that Thanksgiving weekend o'family, I'm fresh out of stories.
I wish I had some beautiful description of how we played Christmas music today and decorated the house, the kids oohing and aahing as each ornament was unwrapped. Well, not really, but I wish I had taken a nap, done the decorating, and maybe figured out how we can get Christmas lights strung up with no outlet in the front yard.

But let's get real. I did vacuum, we finished the laundry, Pat took the Boy swimming, and we met a new cousin. My stepsister's 6 month old baby Mazie who is so adorable my kids couldn't keep their hands off her. The Boy wanted to hold her, and Bitty Girl wanted to boss her around. Luckily she's a happy, tolerant baby and her parents aren't neurotic first-timers like I was. They didn't hurt her, just a few extra-large hugs and one toppling over backward into the couch.
Now I'm just crossing my fingers that they weren't a vortex of infectious disease, silently infecting her with some nasty cold and cough that doesn't show up until Monday or Tuesday this week.

I should have plenty of blog fodder for December, given that it includes my 36th birthday (ouch), The Boy's 6th birthday, birthday party, family dinner, a couple of Christmas parties, a photo shoot, and 2 weeks off school. If I can just get some sleep.

Post Turkey Day turkeys

2008-11-29T23:22:00.000-08:00

Whew. The end of a long family Thanksgiving weekend. Lots of food, lots of family, lots of food.

Kids were amazing, as I reflect back upon the long stretches of time they played together with minimal screaming.

As they get older (cousins are 7, 6, 5, 5, 4, 3, 2, 2, and 1) the bigger ones are more into board games, which keep them occupied longer.

Also introduced this year was the famous Magnavox Odyssey 2, which was Dad's first video game system from 1978. The in-laws still have it, and it was a huge hit! Either they're too young to be completely spoiled by the new games, or they were in awe that something so old still worked.

For a stroll down video game memory lane, go here.

Behold the Odyssey!

On the drive home, The Boy was asking when we can go back to play again...

But no matter their age, they still all love ice cream. Enjoy some photos of our favorite turkeys eating ice cream with their cousins at Friday night's dinner out.

Gobble, gobble....

The moment has arrived.

2008-11-28T12:27:00.000-08:00

I just heard The Boy say, "Dad, can we watch football?"

And there's some discussion of which team has won the most games, have they won more than the Huskies, and could this college team beat our poor Seahawks.

Although right now I hear him doing some annoying play with his old Sesame Street cash register, pushing the keys over and over so it says, "seven, sev, sev, seven, sssssss, seven, sev, sev, seven."

I figured with such a sports fan for a father, he would eventually take an interest. He's always loved to throw balls, and "buh-ball" for basketball was his first big word. Last spring it was baseball, and he watched a little more of a few Mariners games than before. Then during soccer season, he was always asking to go outside and kick the ball, but not so much for watching soccer on tv.

But one day I called while I was out, and they were poring over the stats page in the newspaper, and according to The Boy, "figuring out who were the worst players on the Seahawks." He's been playing football at recess with his friends, and has spent a few evenings outside throwing the ball with Daddy.

But this is what I've been dreaming about... That one day, they might say, "Mom, shhhh and leave us alone. We're watching football."

And then I'll have three hours to myself.

Now to work on Bitty Girl's love of football. Maybe a purple and pink football in her stocking??

Just call me Dr. Mama

2008-11-27T22:12:00.000-08:00

Evidently my personal Thanksgiving prescription worked, and I didn't even have that much wine! The kids were fabulous - mostly - and I really didn't get stressed or worried.

No bleeding, no barfing (so far, keep your fingers crossed, because they did eat a lot), and nothing broken.

My sister-in-law called us at 7:30 am and invited us over early for breakfast. We had planned to get there around noon, but went about 10:30 am instead. It turned out to be perfect, because the kids got to play with cousins and settled down before most of the people arrived.

Besides getting slightly over-hungry before lunch and dinner, things went smoothly, kids played beautifully, the weather cooperated, food was delicious, and it was great to catch up with family.

There were -- gasp-- actually long stretches of time, like 20-30 minutes, where I wasn't directly supervising EITHER child. Or anyone else's child, for that matter. It has been a long time since I could say that about any family gathering.

They played inside, outside, watched a movie and shared an enormous bowl of popcorn,

which was gone in 10 minutes flat.

The Boy learned how to play Monopoly, and actually sat, completely focused on it, for an hour. With his dad. Without me. Do you even understand how exciting that "without me" part was to type? Because not only was I off the supervision hook for one kid, but I didn't have to deal with his creative interpretation of Monopoly rules.

So far, one happy, successful Thanksgiving - check.

Two more big family dinners to go....

Oh, and I figured out where The Boy gets his "silly face in pictures" gene..

like father.....

like son.

Keeping our eyes on the prize

2008-11-26T22:04:00.000-08:00

I am trying to start the thankfulness early, and remember that's what tomorrow is about. We have a big family Thanksgiving, and at least I'm not cooking!

We are thankful...
for beautiful healthy babies
for enough food on our table
for family and friends
for healthy bodies
for our jobs
for beautiful sunny days in November
for having all that we need and more
for laughter

So my personal prescription for Turkey Day Weekend is more wine, less worry. If they're not bleeding or barfing, I'm going to try to ignore all child-related conflict, whining, arguing, and focus on what's important. Like filling up my wine glass. And writing down all the funny stories for future blog posts.

Big Three-O

2008-11-25T22:00:00.000-08:00

Bitty Girl, you are 2 1/2 today. Thirty months old.

Thinking (or reading, since who can remember that long ago?) back to your birthday seems like ages ago, but you are still doing all those things I listed. Just more of them.

More picnics with your dollies sleeping under blankets
More adamant and bossy and independent
More beautiful and spunky and funny and delightful
More entertaining, as you try to tell jokes and then say, "I just teasing!"
More shrieking and screeching at your brother's transgressions, real or imagined
More of a need to be the center of attention
More interested in Mommy holding you, Mommy putting you to bed
More delighted with potty talk, especially our reaction to it
More silly at the dinner table
More dramatic play, telling stories about monsters and school and your family

You drop the beginning "s" off words starting with "sp" or "st" just like your cousin: (s)Pider, (s)tar, and your favorite.... (s)pit
You say "franwich" for sandwich, and "Auntie Caff-erine" for Catherine
Pink and purple are somehow your favorite colors, and you remind us of this daily. Many times.
If you don't like the clothes I choose, you say, "I don't match!"
You might have more of a sweet tooth than your brother and me - oops!
You repeat everything we say, including your brother's less-than-appropriate items
You are very independent, like to try to get yourself dressed and undressed, gave up the highchair long ago, and barely tolerate the stroller
But you go along with our craziness, don't mind being woken up from your nap to pick up your brother at school, or missing a nap on a busy day.

Our favorite funnies this week include:

You want a piece of me?

I freezing cold

Wrap me around (wrap a blanket around me)

Hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me (when you want to be picked up)

Happy Half Birthday, Bitty Girl! We love you!

And the Boss goes on....

2008-11-25T20:20:00.000-08:00

Tonight at bedtime, after stories and brushing teeth

"I want a song."
"How do you ask for a song with polite words?"
"Song, please, Mommy." (complete with smirky smile and head tilt for emphasis)
"Which song should we sing? The Boat song?"
"Yes."
I start singing, only to be interrupted...
"No, Mommy, don't sing. I SING!"

Hmmmmmph.

Skater Boy

2008-11-24T20:48:00.000-08:00

The Boy's school has a roller skating party practically every month. Yes, I know you're jealous, wishing you, too, could spend two hours on a Monday evening sitting on the same red carpeted mushroom benches that have been there since "Grease" was a new hit movie, watching shaggy-haired sweaty 12-year old boys try to do skateboarding tricks on their inline skates.

Green with envy - I see you.

But the Boy, who begged for rollerblades last year and dutifully practiced, can really skate by himself. He hardly falls, and he gets right back up.

And they play YMCA, Journey, Queen, and tonight - Corey Hart songs. (Mom, remember taking me to the concert in 8th grade? Thanks again)
So basically, I love it, except for the newer music, which scares me. Also, the big kids scare me. I seriously have to avert my eyes so that I don't imagine The Boy's face under one of those shaggy greasy hairdos, with those saggy pants and "I wish I was a real tough guy" look. Don't even get me started on the 3rd grade girls with the tight jeans and inappropriate t-shirts.

I wish I had pictures, but I would definitely be "that mom who embarrasses her kid" if I took any photos. Who am I kidding, I'm going to be her anyway. Next month - PHOTOS!

Part II of Skater Boy will deal with the slight heartbreak I experience watching him try to navigate sliding onto the bench from a full skate, to keep up with a faster 1st grade friend, and being disappointed that most of his friends weren't there tonight because they had basketball practice. The basketball team that we decided NOT to have him join.

Intergenerational Bossy

2008-11-23T21:13:00.000-08:00

Bitty Girl entertaining one of her biggest fans, Great-Grandma "NuNu."

We spent the weekend at Nanny and Papa's house, where evidently it was the Bossy Girl Show. She comes from a loooooong line of bossy.

The Boy was outside playing most of today, far away from the camera.

She ran Nanny, NuNu, and Auntie Catherine through the ranks of many thrilling games. Highlights included:

1. Very Bossy Daycare, where we strongly suggest you take a nap - look how fun it is!

Serious naptime discussions were had by all.

2. Very Bossy Edible Video game, where you better eat what she gives you, and maybe hand over your jewelry too,

3. Very Bossy Cookie Decorating--watch out for the pre-licked ones,

I wouldn't recommend the one in the lower left of the photo...

and
4. Very Bossy Movie watching, where you hand over your computer to indulge the Queen because her brother is upstairs watching something she doesn't like.

Considering that she comes from a mother who insisted on being in charge of her sister's birthday parties and a great-grandmother famous for her declaration of "I MUST TAKE CHARGE!" is anyone really that surprised??

Move over Bitty Girl...

2008-11-22T09:00:00.000-08:00

Your cousin is pulling ahead of you in the audition line for Funniest 2 yr old.

Part II of Guest Comedian Cousin...

According to my sister, her 2 1/2 year old has an equal passion for the Madagascar theme song. She watches the 3-minute music video they found on the On Demand cable channel, to quote my sister, "I don't know....15 times in a row each time."

She says "Move it, move it" and dances and shakes her booty.

Even better... Take that, Sleeping Judy!
Guest Comedian Cousin calls Sleeping Beauty "Shakin' Booty" and she doesn't know she's being funny. Not yet, anyway.

Her latest favorite game? PAY IT! An imaginary shopping game where she is the "worker girl" and you are the customer. I would fly to the East Coast just to play Pay It and meet Shakin' Booty...

We miss you, Guest Comedian Cousin!
And your mom and brother too!

Adding to the list

2008-11-21T21:45:00.000-08:00

Presenting #24 on the list of
"There's just something slightly wrong about a 2 1/2 year old saying...."

"I like to move it, move it!" (complete with hip shaking) Yes, she really says it...

If you don't follow the latest over-hyped animated movie press, I offer you...
Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa.

We never saw the first Madagascar movie, but in a desperate, futile attempt to avoid the Plague of 1,000,000 Questions, it's waiting for us at the library. We'd like to get the story straight with The Boy before we find ourselves in the movie theater woefully unprepared for the onslaught of questions..

Never underestimate the power of a catchy tune and McDonald's Happy Meal Toys.

I have to admit it's catchy.

P.S. I already looked up the lyrics, and I think it's fairly harmless. I think there's a big hippo in the movie, and there's supposed to be some message about how she loves herself just how she is. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't some REALLY nasty song with just a catchy chorus.

Lunch conversation - wish you had been here

2008-11-21T08:00:00.000-08:00

I don't know how she managed to eat anything, what with all the WORDS coming out of her mouth...

Overheard during Bitty Girl's lunch yesterday, over a 15 minute timespan:

"The chicken go through the gate!" She made a gate out of the pieces of her sandwich and lined up the little pieces of chicken to go through the gate. "I'm sorry! Chicken look like a boot! I need another boot!"

"You have to go poo poo, Mommy? (No, I don't, I reply) I give you a sticker. I read you a story. You have to go pee on the potty? (Again, no) Come on, just try."

(While using her fork) launches into a story about her fork. "The fork got lost in the FOREST. Fork went in the woods, saw my Mommy! My mommy hid in the forest. Then I saw my Daddy! My daddy hid in the forest. (and on and on and on)

She also repossessed my noodles, asked me to peel her grapes (which were already cut into little circles), and refused to eat chicken with any skin or seasoning on it.

Hollywood, look out!

A milestone.....almost

2008-11-20T08:06:00.000-08:00

When we take The Boy to school, we park and walk him right up to the classroom door, where the kids are waiting. We are not in the majority; many kids ride the bus or get dropped off on the sidewalk, so they walk in themselves. My opinion is that kindergarten is too young for this--their school is the "doors open right to the outside" kind with breezeways, not one building with classrooms inside. There's a lot that could happen between the car and the classroom door, and we often see that on our walks in.

Anyway, he has casually mentioned that some kids walk in by themselves, but hasn't expressed a desire to do it himself. He actually still holds my hand most of the time, which I keep waiting for him to give up. But I have to admit I secretly love it, knowing that it won't last.

So as we're driving in this morning, he says that one of his friends comes for school breakfast and walks in by himself. I ask if he wants me to drop him off, because I can. (As my heart breaks a little, silently)
He says yes, and then asks if I can park and just walk him up to the sidewalk.
I agree.
We park and walk up to the sidewalk, where I kiss him goodbye and he starts to walk down the breezeway.
I resist the temptation to pull out my phone and take a picture of my little boy growing up.
I also resist the temptation to cry.

About 15 feet away, he turns around, crying.

Evidently he's not quite ready to walk in by himself either. Whew.
We dried tears and walked in together. He recovered just fine, and once again, I managed not to cry.

Sometimes you're ready to walk right up to that milestone, look it in the eye, and say, "Maybe next time."

Guilty lists

2008-11-19T23:18:00.000-08:00

I was, okay, I'll admit it, COMPULSIVE about keeping lists of milestones when The Boy was a baby. His first words, journal entries about what he was doing every single month. (Note to self: get a life!!!)

And as a result, he's a completely typical first baby who thinks the world revolves around him.

But I never should have done the lists, because I should have known I could never keep them up with Baby #2.
I just found, in the pile o'crap that is my office, a list of words that I was keeping as Bitty Girl's "latest," I think from about April-Sept 2008. Of course it's not dated, and she says so much more now, so I really have no idea what time period it covers. Something around 2 years old..

Here it is:

own juice!
NOW
pick
Audee (saying her name)
please
right here
thank you
sorry
I lub you (love you)
healthy lunch
cookie after dinner (this was proudly her first 3 word sentence, I think)
popcorn (pop-o-door)
sandwich (tranwich)
lollipop (pop or loblie)

I guess I should be happy that I wrote anything down?? I tell myself that she'll be a better person for it--better adjusted, more adaptable. Living out of the glare of the Mommy Microscope has to have some benefits, right? Just say yes.

Time Warp

2008-11-18T22:34:00.000-08:00

Inspired by a dig through my old picture files...

August 2004 with Nanny and NuNu- He was not quite 2

Same people, fast forward 4 years.

September 2008 - not quite 6...

Family resemblance?

Bitty Girl not quite 2

The Boy not quite 2

At least he's not afraid of mascots

2008-11-17T21:33:00.000-08:00

We had a tough day today. Lots of arguing and rushing around in the morning, arguing this evening, but somehow he had a good day at school in between. We'll try harder tomorrow.

The only comic relief I have is some pictures from this weekend, at an event for work... Here he is with the Sound Transit mascot, Zap Gridlock,

and the Seattle Storm mascot, Doppler.

With all his frustrating qualities, at least he doesn't run screaming from those weird mascot costumes...

And on a growing up note, he VOLUNTARILY made two tiles to be part of a picnic table art project. They were encouraging kids to use stencils of nature-related things, but he stubbornly refused, and said he'd draw his own nature scene. This is not a boy who usually gravitates toward art projects (unless it involves drawing robots or aliens) or who chooses to sit still and quietly focus on something requiring delicate fine motor skills, so I said GO FOR IT!

Not sure how it will come out after kiln firing, but it was all him. Behold the flowers--pencil outline, glaze, and all.

Then he wanted to make another one, and used the butterfly stencil. I only helped encourage him to add a second coat of glaze. This is progress in the art project world, people..

Art and grammar and DRAMA lessons

2008-11-16T18:11:00.000-08:00

Heard today in the House O'Drama:

The Boy: My favorite color is red now instead of green. I want my favorite color to be a primary color, not a secondary color.

Bitty Girl: (upon returning to the room): I BACK!!!

and later, after she had been in bed for 30+ minutes, chatting away and I went in to settle her down...
Mom: Time for sleep now.
BG: I need some water. (I got her a drink of water)
(with a smile on her face)
My tummy feel like...I feel like I barf.
(she meant 'I feel like I'm going to barf' except she forgot she was smiling and looked fine otherwise)

I watched her for a minute, but didn't believe a word of her stalling tactic. She's been sleeping since then, no sign of barfing. (knock on wood)

If she barfs tonight, I will come back and edit this post with a full bad-Mommy apology. But I think it's all an act. A well-polished act, starring parents who should know better but are charmed by her big brown eyes and big smile.

Silver lining

2008-11-15T20:38:00.000-08:00

I'm still tired, but owe the story.

So we're in Toys R Us buying a birthday present for a party on Saturday. The Boy is obsessed with Bakugan lately, so of course that's what he wants to get for his friend. But of course, wily creature that he is, he has also figured out that he has enough in his saved allowance to buy one for himself. One small $6 one. And while I really want him to be able to buy a birthday present for a friend WITHOUT also getting something for himself, I agree--it is his allowance, after all.

Toys R Us is one of the worst places on Earth, first of all. If you don't have to go in, I recommend total avoidance. It's floor to ceiling crap that no one needs, but the minute my kids hit the doorway, they suddenly must.have.everything.in.the.store!!! I have seen more tantrums and screaming in TRU than any other place.

But we agreed on 10 minutes in the Bakugan aisle, a quick visit to the baby doll aisle for Bitty Girl, and then home. Oh, I think I forgot to mention that this trip is Friday after a full day of school and after a trip to Fred Meyer where they had no Bakugans. Key detail omission, sorry.

We find the Bakguan aisle, scan the shelves, letting our eyes fall upon the completely empty racks of $6 Bakugan toys. Of course they have the $11 big Bakugan balls, the $23 set, and the $16 Bakubelt, as well as the $15 Bakugan shooter. Lots of lovely things for a birthday present, or for a holiday/birthday wish list, but nothing that you can afford when you only have $7-8 of your allowance money saved.

And your mean Grinch of a mom won't let you spend money you don't have. Doing you a favor kid, trying to make you follow in your father's financial footsteps rather than your mother's, but that doesn't matter in the aisle at Toys R Us.

He was heartbroken. Real tears and real sobs. Not a greedy tantrum, but seriously sad. He had his heart set on the Bakugan, he had saved his money, and he was so excited to buy one. He knows his birthday and Christmas are in 4 and 6 weeks, but that's like eternity when you're 5.
Luckily, I stayed calm and Bitty Girl behaved herself in the cart. We looked at the prices, explained what he could and couldn't buy, and talked about being disappointed. He kept crying, but picked out the present for his friend. Many other people came into the Bakugan aisle, commented on the lack of stock and the high prices, causing me to realize that this is the hot item of 2008 for young school-age boys.

I explained that he had $7-8 and he could choose to a) save it until we found a Bakugan or b) buy another toy that he liked. Here's where I was so proud. He dried his tears, with only a slight underlying sniffle, and found a Ben 10 action figure that he liked. He had trouble deciding, but agreed to get it. I explained that if he bought this one, he wouldn't have enough money to buy a Bakugan until after his birthday. Now he had to think. I said he could hold onto it while we went to see the baby dolls (little sister's choice). As we were walking over there, he said, "No, I decided I'm going to put it back and save my money for what I really want."

My heart skipped a beat. Seriously. At the age of almost-6, in the whole pre-holiday crush of nasty old Toys R Us, he managed to show restraint, prevent an impulse buy, and focus on what he really wanted. Granted, what he really wants is a $6 piece of crap plastic ball that opens when it touches a magnet, but we all have priorities.

So although he can be greedy and always wants more, even though he has far too much already, I was proud of him yesterday. He continued to cry all the way home, slightly eroding my pride, but I'll take it where I can get it.

The Battle Begins

2008-11-14T23:25:00.000-08:00

We have accidentally stumbled upon what may be the hot toy for boys this year. The Boy has been enthralled with this trading card game called Bakugan, another one of the Japanese anime Pokemon-like games. Bakugan (aka Bakugan Battle Brawlers) has plastic marble toys that pop open when they roll onto magnetic cards. It's like Pokemon, in that it's a card game where the cards have certain characters with one power or another, blah, blah, blah, and until he can read on his own, it's just a pain in my neck.

Some older kids at school had them, he traded someone a Star Wars figure for one of the balls and some cards, and he's hooked. (The trading toys at school is a separate post/issue) Bakugan is definitely topping his birthday/Christmas list, and he's not alone. The toy stores can't keep these things stocked.

But today we waged the Bakugan battle right in Toys R Us, and he learned a valuable lesson.

To be continued tomorrow, with photos, when I'm not so tired....

Moments like these

2008-11-13T20:00:00.000-08:00

make it all worthwhile.

By moments like these, I mean when I sneak into her room while she's napping because I have to wake her up to go pick up her brother at school, and she looks so heartbreakingly beautiful that I have to run and get the camera. Then when I take a few pictures, even the flash doesn't wake her up, and I feel guilty about interrupting her nap.

But look at her red cheeks, and the sweet way she's snuggling with her baby. The big purple thing is my pillow. She has been doing this blanket folding thing lately to make herself a "pullow" but she wasn't happy with my folding, so I offered my real pillow. She loved it, and promptly fell asleep. The baby has a blanket and a "pullow" too.

Such a second baby - always a good sport when I have to wake her up, and doesn't even fuss when we have to get right in the car. Thank goodness someone in our family can go with the flow, because most of us are not known for that quality.

Samily

2008-11-12T20:15:00.001-08:00

So you're asking yourself, what is "samily?"
Allow me to explain.

Bitty Girl has an elaborate bedtime ritual and she likes to put her trained monkeys (that's us) through each and every step.

Pjs, Stories and milk, flossing and brushing teeth, the usual... But once she gets in bed, the fun begins.

Kiss through the bars! (of her crib)
Fishie! (make a fish lips face through the bars)
Kiss on the bars (so your lips aren't actually touching)
Eskimo kiss (rub noses)
Then, for the finale........
SAMILY HUG!!!
That involves calling big brother from wherever he is, and the non-putting to bed parent for a group hug. Or a Family hug. or Flamily, like her brother used to say, or just plain samily.

I think the world could use more samily hugs.

Them's fightin' words

2008-11-11T20:15:00.000-08:00

The latest snort-causing antics around here... While it wouldn't be appropriate at preschool, it's hilarious to watch...

Bitty Girl (hands on hips, sassiest look on face): You want a piece of me?
The Boy: No, I want HALF. Chop, chop! (makes karate chop motion to chop her in half)

I laugh every time. Must get it on video for the full effect of the sweet, high little voice trying to sound so tough.

I would have settled for 20 questions

2008-11-10T20:09:00.000-08:00

After two croupy nights, we kept the Boy home from school today. And it was one of those "I made the right call" decisions, not the "Oh God it's 10 am and he's obviously totally fine, what have I done" kind.

I threw away my "To Do" list and snuggled up to watch a movie. We recently bought E.T. and he's been begging to watch it. I realized that the scary space-suit trespassing FBI guys are no scarier than Star Wars, and we found ourselves with the time, so we watched it. I felt myself transported back to the summer of 1982, when I won a trip to see E.T. in the library summer reading program.

And when I had a screen printed E.T. tshirt. I wish I still had mine, but unfortunately, I stole the picture off ebay.

The Boy cannot stand NOT to know something, so he asks more questions than my mom watching tv (which is a lot, ask my husband). I talked him through things, and paused the movie liberally to explain.

I had warned him about the part where Elliot calls his brother "penis breath" and threatened him mightily about what will happen if I EVER hear this uttered. There were a couple of other mild swear words mixed in there, but I think he missed them. He laughed at all the funny parts, cried when he thought E.T. was dying, and generally loved it.

But the minute it was over, HOLY QUESTIONS, Batman! He seriously asked me nonstop questions for an hour, trying to sort the whole good alien, bad scientists thing out in his brain.

A sampler...

Why couldn't E.T. talk at the beginning?
Why was E.T. so short?
Why did the scientists wear those suits?
Why did they put E.T. in the bathroom when they brought him home from the forest?
Why did E.T. and Elliot feel the same things? How did that work?
Why did E.T. get sicker and Elliot get better at the end?
Why did their bicycles fly? Or maybe HOW?
Why was Elliot yelling "You're killing him" when E.T. was dying
How did Elliot get into that tube into the van
Why did Gertie get to go to the forest herself? (lots of questions around this one, with the stellar 1982 parenting, kids left home alone on sick days, little kids trick or treating unchaperoned, and little sister sent out to the woods by herself)

And, after we watched the Bonus material "E.T. Reunion, 20 years later" and saw all the actors 20 years older....

Why do they look like that? (You mean old??)
Which one is E.T.?

He could not get over Drew Barrymore as an adult. Me either, because if she's that old, then I'm at least five years older.

We finally took Mom's favorite--a question break, but I'm sure he'll be back at it in the morning. Good thing Daddy's home and I have to work!

On the Y

2008-11-09T17:35:00.000-08:00

Chromosome. The Y chromosome. Certain things about The Boy just mystify me. I often find myself shaking my head and thinking, "WHAT?"

Examples, please, you ask? Ok, but remember you asked for them... (and I wouldn't recommend reading this over lunch)

Example 1: At dinner tonight, as I am about to put a piece of chicken in my mouth, he leans over, waves his fingers at me, and says, "Do my fingers smell like poop? Because I just wiped."

Needless to say, I did not smell them. But we had a second washing of the hands, just in case.

Example 2: While taking a shower tonight, he spent most of time singing about his bottom. "I'm washing my bum, shaking my bum, rinsing my bum," and so on. At least it's a clean bum.

Example 3: "Mom, want to see something cool that (boy in his class) taught me?" He proceeds to stick his finger in his nose, then in his ear, and then lick the finger.

Yum. And he's going to be THAT BOY. You know the one, the one who picked his nose and ate it and there's some girl who grows up to be like my mother, who, 55 years later, can still tell you his name.

Example 4: His fingernails. I do not understand how he gets them so dirty, even when he didn't play outside today. I try to keep them cut short, and STILL. The dirty fingernails. Oy.

Example 5: The constant touching of everything. Walls, windows, fragile store displays, his sister, my personal space. He honestly cannot help himself sometimes.

Example 6: The interjection of "stupid" into most popular songs and phrases. You know, "The Itsy Bitsy STUPID Spider" and "Row, Row, Row your STUPID Boat?"

Example 7: Potty talk. This crosses gender lines, but I just don't get why it's so funny to talk about going to the bathroom. Maybe I'll ask his father--the originator of most of the fart jokes in our house, and the man who proudly taught both kids to "Pull my finger!" Guess I just answered my own question on that one. Note the Y chromosome, though...

There are many, many more, but I'm just too tired for any more male mystery. I'm sure Bitty Girl will be even more challenging in many ways, but at least I'll understand the brain behind all that drama and eye-rolling. This Y chromosome has me stumped.

At least he's cute. Since I have such a pathetic lack of pictures lately, here's one of him enjoying the 30 minute rain squall during his last soccer game.

Perseverance

2008-11-08T14:55:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I can muster it up and sometimes it pays off.

To be honest, today I was just too lazy and tired to deal with Bitty Girl during the time she should have been napping, but it worked.

Timeline of Events:
1. I put her down for a nap around 12:45 pm. She chatted, arranged her dollies and chatted some more.
2. I give her one reminder around 1:15 pm that she needed to go to sleep, rearrange her blankets.
3. About 1:45 pm, I go in with more milk, read her another story, and did some wishful snuggling, and remove all but 2 dollies and blankets.
4. She is still chatting and wiggling at about 2:15 pm, and I'm convinced she won't nap, but am too tired and busy to go get her. Plus she's not crying and I haven't heard any sounds of Velcro diaper tabs opening which would indicate nakedness.
5. At 2:30 pm: All is quiet. Silent cheer!!
6. At 2:45 pm: I go in to peek and make sure it's not just a very quiet naked girl, and she's ASLEEP! All blankets and dollies thrown in the laundry basket, but she's asleep. I cover her up and tiptoed out, proud of my perseverance.

P.S. I may have to kill the neighbor who is daring to drill something LOUDLY outside as I'm typing this..

Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better.

2008-11-07T21:17:00.000-08:00

I wish today was one of those days where I was glad The Boy had another day off school, so we could spend some quality time together.

But it wasn't. Instead it was a day where the highlights consisted of the Kids Zone at the YMCA and a few good block-building sessions, and the lowlights featured me losing my temper more than once, several timeouts for both kids, and one embarrassing moment of quiet defiance right at the YMCA exit gate in front of the staff and his friend's grandparents.

So I made pumpkin chocolate chip bread after the kids went to bed (a mix from Trader Joe's, don't get too excited..) and I felt slightly better. At least it smells good so far.

During one of the brief peaceful interludes of sibling harmony today, Bitty Girl did have a funny moment.
I came upon a huge explosion of toys in the dining room corner and asked her to clean it up. She said, "It's for Nanny!" Quick thinking Mama said, "Let's take a picture, send it to Nanny, and then you can clean it up!"

Mess for Nanny

In another harmonious moment, her big brother actually helped clean it up.
Let's hear it for the weekend--our first with no soccer games since August!

Almost 6

2008-11-06T21:57:00.000-08:00

As the big 6th birthday approaches (ok, it's in 5 weeks, but we celebrate long around here), I introduce you to the first of several lists.

Things that concern/perturb/frustrate/infuriate our "Almost 6"

The seemingly arbitrary time change back to Standard Time
Being wrong
Anyone who even remotely suggests that he might be slightly wrong
Losing. At anything.
Too much attention being given to his little sister
Missing out on anything
Not having or doing something that someone else has or does or might have or do
Being (or thinking he is) the fastest, oldest, tallest, strongest, and general all-around BEST OF ALL
When Mom goes somewhere BY HERSELF. Or worse, with HER OWN FRIENDS.

Things that do NOT concern/frustrate/even raise the consciousness of "Almost 6"

Nose picking - his own or other people
Dirty fingernails
Clothes matching
Bad table manners
That broccoli and carrots are the only two vegetables he will eat
Socks pulled up almost to his knees (thank god for long-pants weather)
Teasing his sister
Making a mess
If his jokes aren't funny (he thinks they're all funny)

Still snickering

2008-11-05T20:08:00.000-08:00

This really isn't funny. Not if you're trying to rein in some 2 yr old "testing the limits" behavior and if you're a tired Daddy giving a slippery girl a bath.

And it's not helpful for Mommy to laugh about it. But sometimes it just slips out.

When I arrived home after work today, Bitty Girl was upstairs getting a bath. I went in to say hello, she smiled and announced that she was getting clean. The funny part is what she said next. To her Daddy, who had just, dealt with less-than-stellar dinner behavior from her. (Read: throwing noodles, spitting, and other things that warrant losing your chance for a cookie for dessert). So she was harboring a little animosity.

She looks him right in the eye, smiles sweetly, and says, "You HIDEOUS!"

I'll admit it. I laughed. I couldn't help it, and The Boy was on my lap so I couldn't exit quickly.
So she said it again.... "You HIDEOUS Daddy!"

If you're going to be rude and sassy, at least use a good adjective!

A night he will remember forever

2008-11-04T20:36:00.000-08:00

In the last few days, he's been very interested in the whole red/blue states, and Daddy tried to explain the basic electoral votes thing to him.

He knows who we wanted to win, but he's been saying "I think McCain is going to win," mostly just to annoy us. But tonight he was all about Obama. It just became a "counting of the points," and since so much happened before bedtime, he was able to see much of it.

I did not stage this photo. He really went to sleep, Star Wars sheets and all, with the map. After he was half asleep and we dragged him out of bed to see all the people celebrating in Chicago.

For his sake and for her sake, I am extra thankful.

Things to embarrass his future girlfriends

2008-11-03T20:25:00.000-08:00

Since I'm trying to post every day, I'm going to have to dig up all the little pieces of paper where I document the funny little stories.

Recently, I was teling The Boy why I was tired. I had been up sick during the night, and was explaining that Daddy was tired too, because he was awake while I was getting sick.

Him: "Did he have to help you like you helped me when I was sick?"
Me: "No, I didn't need help. But he was still awake because he knew I was up. When people sleep together in the same bed for a long time, they...
(and then I paused, trying to think how to say something like "they get used to each other's sleep patterns" or "they can tell when the other person is restless,") but The Boy had a better idea..

Him: "They get kind of sick of it?"

I laughed out loud, as did his father when I retold the story later.

ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz

2008-11-02T15:28:00.001-08:00

The whole "Fall Back" thing about getting an extra hour of sleep is kind of a trick when you have kids, because they just wake up early and defeat the whole purpose.

Bitty Girl woke up this morning at 7 am-which-had-magically-become-6am, but since she can't tell time and it was still dark, I tried to trick her. I snuggled her with a blanket and put her back down, saying everyone was sleeping. She was sleepily agreeable, but whispered something to me. I had to ask her to repeat it a few times--she was asking for a doll, "Judy." I didn't know of any dolls named Judy, but I was hoping it wasn't something downstairs that I'd have to retrieve. Luckily, as she got back into her crib, she found "Judy" sound asleep on her blanket.

Meet Judy. Sleeping Judy that is. Or as she's more commonly known in the world of Disney, Sleeping BEAUTY.

Dora over the top

2008-11-01T20:43:00.000-07:00

I saw an ad for the new Dora the Explorer movie, "Dora Saves the Snow Princess," and while I like Dora as much as the next preschool mom, it was a bit over the top.
Cue dramatic, action/adventure music, which is what caught my attention in the first place.
Every Dora story has some "crisis," which leads to her adventure--always successful, and the "We Did It" song and dance at the end.
But the announcer scaring us with his dramatic voice, saying Dora is in danger from the mean witch who threatens to melt the snowy forest FOREVER, and asking if Dora can get there in time to save the Snow Princess? A bit much. Everyone knows she's going to save her. This is Dora, not Shakespeare.

Of course I'm going to record the dumb thing on Tuesday. Drama is right up our alley around here.

Halloween

2008-10-31T22:38:00.000-07:00

We survived another Halloween. Somehow Mama Crazy Lady thought she could decorate the house, carve a pumpkin, make spiderweb pizzas for dinner,

paint pumpkins, and go trick or treating--all in the same afternoon! But we did it-with very little yelling or gritted teeth.

The Mummy triumphed, after a very long wrapping session only made possible by Daddy's eternal patience and about 30 safety pins.

(Many apologizes for the hideous yellow background. Pictures alone make me want to paint)

He got tons of compliments, and a few Mummy/Daddy jokes..

The kitty was darling. She got ready before the Mummy and ran around the house yelling, "Let's go trick or treat and get candy!" But she peaked early, and after 3 houses, wanted to go home.

Cat and Mummy

After a long neighborhood trek, a few slips and falls, and one haunted house that was slightly too scary, here's what we had in the slightly unraveled Mummy department...

Whew. Must make them dress up again for better pictures.

I guess that's a NOPE

2008-10-31T14:01:00.000-07:00

Bitty Girl is in her bed chanting "Halloween Night, Halloween Night."
Guess that means she's not going to nap?

Ah, the joys of having an older brother and being this excited about Halloween at the ripe old age of 2 1/2.

At least she doesn't have a 9 am soccer game tomorrow...

Will post pictures after the big event!

Late afternoon edit: After a diaper change and 30 more minutes of "rest time," otherwise known as chanting, she FELL ASLEEP. For about an hour! Amazing.

Mummy is slightly Batty

2008-10-30T21:56:00.000-07:00

My one semi-crafty moment (so far) of 2008....

(Bat and Mummy cupcakes, of course!)

For some odd reason, I started getting Woman's Day magazine. Maybe I'm on their "wishful thinking" list. Or maybe Pat secretly signed me up, hoping that I'd actually make something other than spaghetti.

The October issue had fun Halloween cupcakes, and we decided to try two of them.
They turned out rather well, considering....

Considering what, you ask?

Considering that a 2 1/2 yr old can't really pick up tiny sprinkles and place them carefully onto the icing that is the bat's mouth.
Considering that neither a 2 1/2 yr old or a nearly-6 yr old can really carefully cut two semi-circle scoops out of a Reese's peanut butter cup
Considering that neither of the above-mentioned children can adequately frost a cupcake
Considering that both of the above-mentioned children are much more interested in eating the discarded peanut butter/chocolate scoops than making the cupcake
and considering that I don't have a pastry bag, but used an icing tip and a Ziploc bag for the Mummy cupcakes.

The evidence, Batty Girl and Boy...

If only his Mummy Halloween costume turned out this nice. Will update on the Halloween Costume Fiasco of 2008 AFTER Friday night. Hint: It involves ripped strips of a tea-dyed sheet, lots of safety pins, some random Velcro that doesn't stick, possibly $50 in gauze rolls, and a gray sweat suit. Wish us luck!