This year we went down to L.A. to spend Thanksgiving with Grandpa and Safta. We had a turkey, stuffing and the usual accouterments of the holiday. Whilst enjoying our meal, I asked M what he was thankful for. I didn't honestly expect an answer because I hadn't discussed this with him and figured he would have no idea what thankful even meant. We were all surprised when M said, "I am thankful for playing with my friend James." How cute is that!? By the way, M now has two friends at school that he talks about ALL the time...James and Ben. When asked who his friends are, these are the names he states and he now asks to go to school to play with his two buds.
Anyway, back on track. While we were in L.A., Grandpa took us to the pony rides which M enjoys doing every time we are down visiting. I asked B if he wanted to ride a pony this time and, another surprise, he said yes. B was so excited! He said, "I'm a big boy now. I ride a brown pony." (He later told me he rode a blue pony, but at least he knew it was a pony.)
Grandpa and I were expecting B to burst into tears and hysterics once placed on the pony, but he was happy during both rides. He kept pointing things out and not once did he hold onto the darn pommel thing on the pony. Sometimes that kid has no sense of safety. Anyway, it was neat to see him on a pony and so happy. Good times.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
M Comes Out of His Shell
I used to be terribly concerned about M's socially shy and scared behavior. He would grab onto my hand and refuse to play any time we went to a new place. Surprisingly, he now LOVES to go to new places and try out the new toys and equipment. M might take a few minutes to check things out, just as he always has, but now he'll go and play. He screams like a lunatic while chasing friends at the park, and jumps right in to playing in groups with kids he knows. Whew, what a relief!
B's Gymnastics Class
During the past several months, I enrolled B in a mommy and me Gymnastics/tumbling (whatever you want to call it) class. As he is so active and has not been shy, I thought this would be a nice experience for him.
The first class was a surprise and disappointment. He insisted I hold him for the first 30 minutes of class (class was only 45 minutes) and held on with a vice-like grip. He finally let me put him down to test a few things out, but if any other kids came near him, he insisted I pick him again. The second class, B only took about 20 minutes to warm up and seemed to really enjoy climbing ladders and bouncing on the trampoline. By the third class, B was ready to jump into things. Apparently, after observing the lay of the land a few times, he decided all was safe and this wasn't some huge conspiracy to kill him off.
While the other kids used the equipment as the instructor demonstrated, my youngest son determined that it's best usage was via his own methods. Instead of jumping over the squishy rectangular logs, B built them up and then enjoyed pushing them over. Instead of shooting the tennis balls down a tunnel, B threw them as far as he could around the room. Instead of crawling the tunnels, he insisted that I push him around the room in them. I was just so relieved that he was enjoying himself...even if he refused to participate in circle time with the other kids.
It turned out that his favorite part of the class was at the end when the teacher put stamps on their hands and stickers on their shirts...could've saved ourselves a bunch of money by stamping and stickering at home:)
The good thing is that B learned how to jump and he learned how to do somersaults by himself. In a funny side note, B and M both did their own solo somersaults on the same day.
The first class was a surprise and disappointment. He insisted I hold him for the first 30 minutes of class (class was only 45 minutes) and held on with a vice-like grip. He finally let me put him down to test a few things out, but if any other kids came near him, he insisted I pick him again. The second class, B only took about 20 minutes to warm up and seemed to really enjoy climbing ladders and bouncing on the trampoline. By the third class, B was ready to jump into things. Apparently, after observing the lay of the land a few times, he decided all was safe and this wasn't some huge conspiracy to kill him off.
While the other kids used the equipment as the instructor demonstrated, my youngest son determined that it's best usage was via his own methods. Instead of jumping over the squishy rectangular logs, B built them up and then enjoyed pushing them over. Instead of shooting the tennis balls down a tunnel, B threw them as far as he could around the room. Instead of crawling the tunnels, he insisted that I push him around the room in them. I was just so relieved that he was enjoying himself...even if he refused to participate in circle time with the other kids.
It turned out that his favorite part of the class was at the end when the teacher put stamps on their hands and stickers on their shirts...could've saved ourselves a bunch of money by stamping and stickering at home:)
The good thing is that B learned how to jump and he learned how to do somersaults by himself. In a funny side note, B and M both did their own solo somersaults on the same day.
B Turned Two
Sorry about the long delay in writing to the blog. Life just happened.
In October, B turned the big number 2! We ended up celebrating his b-day four different times...lucky guy. We celebrated once with his Jewish playgroup, once with a Halloween/b-day party with his and M's joint playgroup, once with my family and finally with Papa Bear's family. The family parties were supposed to be combined Uncle E came to town unexpectedly the week before B's big b-day bash and so we adjusted accordingly. Let's just say that there was much cake to be had during the latter part of the month.
The boys really enjoyed seeing and spending time with their Auntie R and Uncle E and of course Grandpa and Safta. The boys received a bunch of attention and toys...who wouldn't love that?!
B's stats at two years: 35 inches tall; 30 lbs. 7oz. (just for comparison, M was 36 in. and 31 lbs. 7oz at two years of age.)
In October, B turned the big number 2! We ended up celebrating his b-day four different times...lucky guy. We celebrated once with his Jewish playgroup, once with a Halloween/b-day party with his and M's joint playgroup, once with my family and finally with Papa Bear's family. The family parties were supposed to be combined Uncle E came to town unexpectedly the week before B's big b-day bash and so we adjusted accordingly. Let's just say that there was much cake to be had during the latter part of the month.
The boys really enjoyed seeing and spending time with their Auntie R and Uncle E and of course Grandpa and Safta. The boys received a bunch of attention and toys...who wouldn't love that?!
B's stats at two years: 35 inches tall; 30 lbs. 7oz. (just for comparison, M was 36 in. and 31 lbs. 7oz at two years of age.)
Sunday, August 24, 2008
My Birthday
On my birthday, Papa Bear took the boys for the day and I showed up at the in-laws house for dinner. I got out of the car and M ran towards me yelling, "Happy Birthday, Mommy! Happy Birthday! When do we eat cake?" For the next two hours at approximately five minute intervals, M continued to ask when it was time for cake. The cake was finally put on the coffee table, and unable to control himself, B took a swipe at the cake. This can be seen in the picture above. I guess it looked, uh, touchable. Everyone then sang, M very loudly, and then cake was was doled out. All the kids were happy, and the evening, thankfully came to an end with minimal damage.
My 29th birthday was great! No comments, please.
The Swimmer
M is officially a swimmer. He can make it across the width of the pool and even lift his head to breathe. Papa Bear and I are so proud of him, but most importantly, M is proud of himself. After coming home from the pool last Friday night, M climbed out of the car and proclaimed, "I am a good swimming." Yes you are, M:)
M having lessons at Sue's Swim School in Alamo.
M having lessons at Sue's Swim School in Alamo.Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
Last week, while at a friend's house, B began to sing the ABC's. This was amazing to me for a couple of reasons; first, I didn't realize that he knew any of the alphabet...we had not been working on it. Second, M didn't start singing until he was several months older, so it was not something that I was even expecting from B for several months yet.
I looked at him, as his wobbly voice was singing the alphabet, skipping many letters, and asked him if he was singing his ABC's. Apparently, if you call out your twenty one month old boy, he ceases his singing immediately and shyly hides behind your legs. My friend tried to get B to sing again, but his impromptu solo was over for that day.
Tonight, while Papa Bear was changing B into his pajamas, B began to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star". I have no idea what it sounded like because I didn't hear him, but once again B ceased his solo as soon as attention was called to his warbling. It's too early to tell, but maybe we have a little Pavarotti on our hands.
I looked at him, as his wobbly voice was singing the alphabet, skipping many letters, and asked him if he was singing his ABC's. Apparently, if you call out your twenty one month old boy, he ceases his singing immediately and shyly hides behind your legs. My friend tried to get B to sing again, but his impromptu solo was over for that day.
Tonight, while Papa Bear was changing B into his pajamas, B began to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star". I have no idea what it sounded like because I didn't hear him, but once again B ceased his solo as soon as attention was called to his warbling. It's too early to tell, but maybe we have a little Pavarotti on our hands.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
I Do It
It's a great thing when one's child tries to accomplish feats on his own. This show of independence displays his burgeoning sense of self and growing confidence. However, occasionally (frequently) a child's desire to be independent can cause activities to go veeeeeeeeeerrrrrry slowly, get extremely messy, or cause accidents of catastrophic proportions.
The first time (and thousands of times afterwards) a child wants to drink out of a regular cup, one should expect massive spillage and ensuing cleanup. The first time he feeds himself, one should expect most of the food to end up everywhere but actually inside the child's mouth. (We are probably responsible for half of the world's food waste at this point.) Whenever a child demands to walk somewhere on his own, one should expect to be really late for an appointment and give up all hope of making it to said appointment on time because the child will only take longer than anyone previously thought to be humanly possible. Finally, when a child is being removed from his car seat and screams, "I do it myself!" and you actually let him, one should expect said child to fall out of the car.
That is what happened today with B. He fell right out of the car and onto the hard, hot ground. At least he was smiling proudly when he stood up. I can only hope we'll be that lucky tomorrow when I'm sure the same scenario will replay itself.
While I applaud B's growing demands for independence, I have to wonder who is lacking more sense in these scenarios...the child who wants to try new things or the mother who allows him to and then pays for it afterwards in the form of cleanup, changing clothes or healing wounds.
The first time (and thousands of times afterwards) a child wants to drink out of a regular cup, one should expect massive spillage and ensuing cleanup. The first time he feeds himself, one should expect most of the food to end up everywhere but actually inside the child's mouth. (We are probably responsible for half of the world's food waste at this point.) Whenever a child demands to walk somewhere on his own, one should expect to be really late for an appointment and give up all hope of making it to said appointment on time because the child will only take longer than anyone previously thought to be humanly possible. Finally, when a child is being removed from his car seat and screams, "I do it myself!" and you actually let him, one should expect said child to fall out of the car.
That is what happened today with B. He fell right out of the car and onto the hard, hot ground. At least he was smiling proudly when he stood up. I can only hope we'll be that lucky tomorrow when I'm sure the same scenario will replay itself.
While I applaud B's growing demands for independence, I have to wonder who is lacking more sense in these scenarios...the child who wants to try new things or the mother who allows him to and then pays for it afterwards in the form of cleanup, changing clothes or healing wounds.
Chocolate Mustache
Yesterday, a friend had us and some others over for a playgroup and surprised us with cupcakes for my upcoming 29th birthday. B really enjoys his chocolate.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
He Can Swim, Kind Of
M's swim lessons are going great and he's so proud of himself. His new sense of pride is the best part of this whole experience. He fairly glows from happiness after showing off his new moves. Sometimes, I see him looking for me during lessons to make sure that I've seen him successfully jump into the pool or swim with "big arms".
M loves the one-on-one lessons with Wendy, and he especially loves the balloon that he receives at the end of each lesson. Okay, maybe the all important balloon, is THE motivating factor. Whatever the reason, M is gaining self-confidence and a sense of pride. It's awesome to watch!
M loves the one-on-one lessons with Wendy, and he especially loves the balloon that he receives at the end of each lesson. Okay, maybe the all important balloon, is THE motivating factor. Whatever the reason, M is gaining self-confidence and a sense of pride. It's awesome to watch!
Dreams
A month or so ago, M woke up and came running out of his room, hair flopping on top of his head, crying. When asked why he was crying, M responded, "The penguin was hitting me." It was difficult not to laugh, but somehow I managed.
About two weeks ago, on the way to driving M to school, he said, "Grandpa's sick, Mommy." I asked him what he was talking about and M replied, "Grandpa got sick everywhere and it was gross." As we hadn't seen Grandpa in over a month, and to my knowledge, he had not thrown up during our last trip down south, I was perplexed. Then I remembered the penguin dream and asked M if he had dreamed Grandpa was sick. M said yes and that it was really gross.
Apparently, M needs some new books that are less fanciful than what he's currently reading. Although I'm fairly certain no one has gotten sick in any of the stories we read...
About two weeks ago, on the way to driving M to school, he said, "Grandpa's sick, Mommy." I asked him what he was talking about and M replied, "Grandpa got sick everywhere and it was gross." As we hadn't seen Grandpa in over a month, and to my knowledge, he had not thrown up during our last trip down south, I was perplexed. Then I remembered the penguin dream and asked M if he had dreamed Grandpa was sick. M said yes and that it was really gross.
Apparently, M needs some new books that are less fanciful than what he's currently reading. Although I'm fairly certain no one has gotten sick in any of the stories we read...
Saturday, July 26, 2008
When I'm a Big Boy
At the beginning of the swim season, M and B used to love watching the older kids jumping/diving/belly flopping off of the diving board. In fact, quite often they would make me swim them to the deep end to get a closer look and to await the excitement of getting splashed. One of those first days I asked M if he wanted to jump off the diving board. ( I want it noted that this was just conversation. I did not really think that this was a possibility for at least a few years.) M turned to me, all seriousness, and said, "I'll jump off the dive board when I'm a big boy, Mommy."
Tonight, Papa Bear and I took the boys to the pool to meet some friends for a BBQ and an evening swim. We had burgers and hot dogs and then got into the pool to cool off and let the kids have some fun. Minutes after getting into the pool, some of the older kids began jumping off of the diving board and as usual, the boys wanted to watch.
As a nice side-effect of M's swim lessons, M has really begun enjoying jumping into the pool from the side over the past week. (His lessons started a week and a half ago and he has already learned so much.) As we watched the older kids jumping from the diving board I asked M if he wanted to try it as well. I was in complete shock when M said he would like to try.
I quickly called P.B. over to take care of B so that M and I could swim to the deep end. I helped M to climb out of the pool and watched him assume his place at the end of the line of children waiting their moment of free-fall. M climbed onto the board and began his march to the end of the platform. I thought to myself, "This is it. He's going to stand at the end of the board in indecision and then finally just get off in fear and defeat." But, alas, I am thrilled to report that M proved me wrong and I am ashamed to have had that thought.
The dare-devil walked to the end of that diving board, ordered me to come a bit closer to him and jumped right into my arms. I was so happy for him. The smile of success on his face was pure bliss for my heart and as big as the splash his little body made upon entering the water. There is nothing like watching your child do something that he so badly wants, despite his feelings of fear.
As we swam to the side of the pool, I asked M if he wanted to jump again. He said yes, and we spent the next half hour following the same routine. It was absolutely amazing and I still have butterflies in my stomach as I sit here writing about this. M has always been so cautious, so to see him throw that caution to the wind was an absolute dream.
Tonight, I sit here reflecting M's words of just a couple of months ago. "I'll jump off the dive board when I'm a big boy, Mommy." I remember this statement with bittersweet fondness. I am so very proud of him and glad that he is assuming more risks. On the other hand, I am so very sad that he is growing up and quickly becoming that "big boy" of which he spoke.
Tonight, Papa Bear and I took the boys to the pool to meet some friends for a BBQ and an evening swim. We had burgers and hot dogs and then got into the pool to cool off and let the kids have some fun. Minutes after getting into the pool, some of the older kids began jumping off of the diving board and as usual, the boys wanted to watch.
As a nice side-effect of M's swim lessons, M has really begun enjoying jumping into the pool from the side over the past week. (His lessons started a week and a half ago and he has already learned so much.) As we watched the older kids jumping from the diving board I asked M if he wanted to try it as well. I was in complete shock when M said he would like to try.
I quickly called P.B. over to take care of B so that M and I could swim to the deep end. I helped M to climb out of the pool and watched him assume his place at the end of the line of children waiting their moment of free-fall. M climbed onto the board and began his march to the end of the platform. I thought to myself, "This is it. He's going to stand at the end of the board in indecision and then finally just get off in fear and defeat." But, alas, I am thrilled to report that M proved me wrong and I am ashamed to have had that thought.
The dare-devil walked to the end of that diving board, ordered me to come a bit closer to him and jumped right into my arms. I was so happy for him. The smile of success on his face was pure bliss for my heart and as big as the splash his little body made upon entering the water. There is nothing like watching your child do something that he so badly wants, despite his feelings of fear.
As we swam to the side of the pool, I asked M if he wanted to jump again. He said yes, and we spent the next half hour following the same routine. It was absolutely amazing and I still have butterflies in my stomach as I sit here writing about this. M has always been so cautious, so to see him throw that caution to the wind was an absolute dream.
Tonight, I sit here reflecting M's words of just a couple of months ago. "I'll jump off the dive board when I'm a big boy, Mommy." I remember this statement with bittersweet fondness. I am so very proud of him and glad that he is assuming more risks. On the other hand, I am so very sad that he is growing up and quickly becoming that "big boy" of which he spoke.
Swim Lessons
After watching M not being able to keep up with some of his friends at the pool, Papa Bear and I decided that we should enroll M in swim lessons. After asking around we decided to enroll M in a hardcore swim school where the lessons are only fifteen minutes long but the instructors get right down to business.
I had heard from many friends that their children cried the first several (or more) lessons and so was prepared for this inevitability. On the morning of the day that M was to begin lessons, I explained to him that he was going to go into a pool without me, but a teacher would help him. I also told him that she would help him to put his face in the water...this was the thing that M was always reluctant to do at the pool.
As soon as I had finished explaining to him about the swim lessons, M said, "Mommy, I'm a little bit scared." How cute is that?! I told him that it was okay to be scared, but I thought he would have fun.
After leaving the park, where we met his Wednesday playgroup friends, we drove to the pool. At the pool his friend James, who M has known since he was about five months old, was in the pool having his lesson. M watched intently. Soon it was his turn to get in the water with Wendy, his instructor. As I walked away from the side of the pool, where I had dropped him off, I prayed that he would not cry and would have some fun.
Surprise! M loved the lesson! Wendy kept pushing his head under water and he took it like a trooper. He even put his head in the water on his own when asked to. I was so proud of my baby.
On the drive home, clinging to his balloon that every child receives after the end of each lesson, M said, "Mommy, can I go back to swim lesson again?" I said, "You bet!" and was happy for the munchkin. He had faced a fear and conquered it.
I had heard from many friends that their children cried the first several (or more) lessons and so was prepared for this inevitability. On the morning of the day that M was to begin lessons, I explained to him that he was going to go into a pool without me, but a teacher would help him. I also told him that she would help him to put his face in the water...this was the thing that M was always reluctant to do at the pool.
As soon as I had finished explaining to him about the swim lessons, M said, "Mommy, I'm a little bit scared." How cute is that?! I told him that it was okay to be scared, but I thought he would have fun.
After leaving the park, where we met his Wednesday playgroup friends, we drove to the pool. At the pool his friend James, who M has known since he was about five months old, was in the pool having his lesson. M watched intently. Soon it was his turn to get in the water with Wendy, his instructor. As I walked away from the side of the pool, where I had dropped him off, I prayed that he would not cry and would have some fun.
Surprise! M loved the lesson! Wendy kept pushing his head under water and he took it like a trooper. He even put his head in the water on his own when asked to. I was so proud of my baby.
On the drive home, clinging to his balloon that every child receives after the end of each lesson, M said, "Mommy, can I go back to swim lesson again?" I said, "You bet!" and was happy for the munchkin. He had faced a fear and conquered it.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
I Swim
I recently got a Spiderman life vest for B to use in the pool since he no longer wants to use the more confining inner tube. All because he's a big boy now. After two days of using the vest, with me holding him in the pool, B pushed himself out of my grasp and proclaimed, "I swim!" And he sort of did. He now likes to float around in the water with his vest on and try to kick his legs and splash his arms. Even when he flips over and his face gets submerged, B is thrilled to be "swimming" on his own.
Shape Sorter
At the pool with some friends yesterday, the boys had a blast playing with diving toys. They threw the toys...I dove for them. So, of course, today I went and bought the boys the same toys to help enhance their swimming time at the pool and they had a blast throwing and trying to grab the toys.
As with all other pools, the pool we go to has jets to allow more water to enter. Apparently M has been paying close attention to his shape sorting toys because he shoved one of the circular shaped diving toys into the circular shaped jet. Hole in one...and on the first day one of the toys has been lost.
At least M is observant.
As with all other pools, the pool we go to has jets to allow more water to enter. Apparently M has been paying close attention to his shape sorting toys because he shoved one of the circular shaped diving toys into the circular shaped jet. Hole in one...and on the first day one of the toys has been lost.
At least M is observant.
Monday, July 14, 2008
No Singing!
Sometimes, B cries for no apparent reason. On these occasions when he won't indicate what's wrong and it's not readily apparent, I have found a quick and easy way to immediately halt his high-pitched cries. It turns out that B does not have an appreciation for one of the finer things in life...my singing. When he is in the midst of one his crying jags, I simply begin to sing and he screams, "Uh, uh!" and waves his hands in the air to tell me to stop. Once I stop singing, he stops crying.
Were I a more sensitive soul I might be offended by B's obvious rejection of my musical talents...or lack of, as the case may be. However, I'm just glad that there is a way to quickly end B's hysterics. Anyway, B is rapidly becoming quite the linguist so when Papa Bear began singing to him this past Saturday, B said, "Stop singing!"
Hah! B's never actually told me to stop anything; I just ASSUME he wants me to stop. There's no empirical proof like P.B. now has:)
Were I a more sensitive soul I might be offended by B's obvious rejection of my musical talents...or lack of, as the case may be. However, I'm just glad that there is a way to quickly end B's hysterics. Anyway, B is rapidly becoming quite the linguist so when Papa Bear began singing to him this past Saturday, B said, "Stop singing!"
Hah! B's never actually told me to stop anything; I just ASSUME he wants me to stop. There's no empirical proof like P.B. now has:)
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Lake Tahoe 1
Here M and B are eating breakfast on our first morning in Lake Tahoe. They wolfed down their strawberries before a morning romp in the hotel pool.
A lunch break at the lake after a morning of biking around Tahoe. We tried to bike up to Fallen Leaf Lake, but got too tired after an hour and a half of biking around trying to get to it. We drove to it the following day and it was miles away from where we had finally stopped the previous day. Good decision on our part.
M and B had a great time throwing rocks into the lake. Papa Bear tried to show them how to skip rocks, but the concept was missed by the boys; they just liked hearing and seeing the splashes.M got brave and walked into the lake and came out wet from feet to waist. At least he had fun.
At Circus Circus in Reno, the boys had a blast playing games. P.B. was pushing B in the stroller when some boy handed B the stuffed tiger. M "won" the fish playing a water shooting game...he and I came in last, but M had fun and was so proud of his prize.
M and I were playing the game where you hit a lever and try to get a chicken to land in a pot on a moving platform. Unfortunately, I should not be allowed near hammers or any other objects that can cause harm. I accidentally hit M just below the eye. The aftermath can be seen in the picture to the left. M cried until Papa Bear tried to play the game. M then decided he was okay and he didn't want anyone else to finish for him.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Share!
As B enters the tantrum phase of life, and enter it he has, there are a few phrases that one can frequently hear him voice. B loves to say, scream, bellow or however else he feels he can best be heard, "I don't like it!" He also loves, "I want it!" My personal favorite, though, is "Share!" The reason this one is so great, is that it usually arrives after I have removed something from B's possession due to his lack of sharing with M. After I hand said possession to M, B will invariably turn to him and beseechingly demand, "Share!"
Saturday, June 28, 2008
M's End of The Year Program
http://www.youtube.com/v/M-pPls0L_C4
This is M's end of the year presentation with his class. They are "singing" and "dancing" with Following the Leader from Peter Pan. M begins as the third from the right and then you'll have to find him as he "follows" the leader. At the end there are two boys in front of the tipee; he is the one who dives from the left.
This is M's end of the year presentation with his class. They are "singing" and "dancing" with Following the Leader from Peter Pan. M begins as the third from the right and then you'll have to find him as he "follows" the leader. At the end there are two boys in front of the tipee; he is the one who dives from the left.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
On Wednesday, I took the boys to Pixieland in Concord with some friends. Pixieland is small amusement park for toddlers with something like 7 rides. There's a train, airplane, cars, merry-go-round, tea-cups, roller coaster and a ride like a free-fall for kids.
The boys had SO much fun. B loved the airplane and cars and, of course, they both loved the train...I'm not sure they like any ride more than a train. It's a bit of an obsession for them. M had fun on all of the rides, as was clear when on the drive home I asked him which ride was his favorite and he listed them all. (Maybe he doesn't understand the term "favorite"...or choosing. Hmm.)
Anyway, when we got to the free-fall ride, I thought for sure M was definitely not going to want to go on it. All of his little friends were thrilled about the ride and M emphatically told me that he wanted to go as well. I thought there was a possibility that M would scream hysterically when he got to the top. Nope. M was laughing so hard the whole time, that I'm surprised he didn't pee himself. It was great to see him having so much fun.
Next, we went on the tea-cups...my least favorite ride of all time. I spun it as quickly as I could and M loved it. I thought I was going to toss the contents of my stomach, but M didn't seem affected at all...except for when he banged his head backwards. He didn't seem to care for that too much. (Hopefully no permanent damage was caused.) Finally, he LOVED the roller coaster. I have to be honest, it turned my stomach and I was a bit scared. M just laughed and screamed, "More." This is the same boy who hates swings and will only use the short slides at the park. Invasion of the body snatchers? I'm still looking into it.
B had a great time as well. In the beginning, he screamed every time I took him off of a ride. I'm guessing that he didn't grasp the concept that when a ride stopped moving, it was over. As we went on more rides, B stopped fussing as much until he seemed to understand that we would go on more rides. He was even a pretty good sport when M got to go on rides in which he wasn't old enough for. B did fuss a little when M and I got off of the rides and he realized that I wasn't going to then take him, but overall he was in a good mood.
A good day for all...and only one of us needed a nap afterwards.
The boys had SO much fun. B loved the airplane and cars and, of course, they both loved the train...I'm not sure they like any ride more than a train. It's a bit of an obsession for them. M had fun on all of the rides, as was clear when on the drive home I asked him which ride was his favorite and he listed them all. (Maybe he doesn't understand the term "favorite"...or choosing. Hmm.)
Anyway, when we got to the free-fall ride, I thought for sure M was definitely not going to want to go on it. All of his little friends were thrilled about the ride and M emphatically told me that he wanted to go as well. I thought there was a possibility that M would scream hysterically when he got to the top. Nope. M was laughing so hard the whole time, that I'm surprised he didn't pee himself. It was great to see him having so much fun.
Next, we went on the tea-cups...my least favorite ride of all time. I spun it as quickly as I could and M loved it. I thought I was going to toss the contents of my stomach, but M didn't seem affected at all...except for when he banged his head backwards. He didn't seem to care for that too much. (Hopefully no permanent damage was caused.) Finally, he LOVED the roller coaster. I have to be honest, it turned my stomach and I was a bit scared. M just laughed and screamed, "More." This is the same boy who hates swings and will only use the short slides at the park. Invasion of the body snatchers? I'm still looking into it.
B had a great time as well. In the beginning, he screamed every time I took him off of a ride. I'm guessing that he didn't grasp the concept that when a ride stopped moving, it was over. As we went on more rides, B stopped fussing as much until he seemed to understand that we would go on more rides. He was even a pretty good sport when M got to go on rides in which he wasn't old enough for. B did fuss a little when M and I got off of the rides and he realized that I wasn't going to then take him, but overall he was in a good mood.
A good day for all...and only one of us needed a nap afterwards.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Shower, Interrupted
This morning, I left M and B playing in the playroom so I could shower. I told M, as always, that he was to take care of B and to stay in the playroom. M said okay and the boys continued racing their trucks around the room.
As I was about to get into the shower, M came racing down the hallway to inform me that there were monsters in the playroom. (M has renewed his fear of monsters lately. They are apparently hiding all throughout the house and they only disappear when Papa Bear or I appear. Hmm...) I told him that there were no monsters and to go back and take care of his brother. He said okay and stomped back down the hallway.
I thought I was in the clear to take my five minute shower in peace but alas, it was not to be. While standing there with shampoo and soap streaming into my eyes, I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a stampede racing towards the bathroom. I tried to wash the shampoo and soap off my hair and body in anticipation of this latest crisis. A moment later, I heard M screaming, "Mommy! Moooooommmmmmmmmmy!".
I turned off the water and opened the bathroom door and surprise, surprise, both boys were standing there expectantly. I have to say, there was an air of excitement about them, so I asked what was going on. "Mommy," M raised his hand towards me. "I got a spider." I looked at his hand and noticed a black squirming thing between his index finger and thumb. He was plainly proud of his acquisition.
What is a mother to do? Tell her son how proud she is of him, of course. "Good job, M," I proclaimed. "Let's let the little guy free outside." We walked across the room to the french doors leading outside and released the lucky creepy-crawler.
M and B ran back to the playroom and I quickly finished my shower before another "crisis" arose.
As I was about to get into the shower, M came racing down the hallway to inform me that there were monsters in the playroom. (M has renewed his fear of monsters lately. They are apparently hiding all throughout the house and they only disappear when Papa Bear or I appear. Hmm...) I told him that there were no monsters and to go back and take care of his brother. He said okay and stomped back down the hallway.
I thought I was in the clear to take my five minute shower in peace but alas, it was not to be. While standing there with shampoo and soap streaming into my eyes, I heard something that sounded suspiciously like a stampede racing towards the bathroom. I tried to wash the shampoo and soap off my hair and body in anticipation of this latest crisis. A moment later, I heard M screaming, "Mommy! Moooooommmmmmmmmmy!".
I turned off the water and opened the bathroom door and surprise, surprise, both boys were standing there expectantly. I have to say, there was an air of excitement about them, so I asked what was going on. "Mommy," M raised his hand towards me. "I got a spider." I looked at his hand and noticed a black squirming thing between his index finger and thumb. He was plainly proud of his acquisition.
What is a mother to do? Tell her son how proud she is of him, of course. "Good job, M," I proclaimed. "Let's let the little guy free outside." We walked across the room to the french doors leading outside and released the lucky creepy-crawler.
M and B ran back to the playroom and I quickly finished my shower before another "crisis" arose.
Friday, June 20, 2008
B's First Three Word Sentence
B has recently stopped needing quite as much sleep as previously required. It is so great that he is growing up and developing. I mean it! I love that he sleeps less; it means that we get to spend more quality time together.
Anyway, on Thursday M was at school so B and I spent the morning reading books and playing with his various toys. He really wanted to play with a bucket of blocks that has openings at the top of the container in the shapes of the different blocks. B was really concentrating and sometimes actually fitting the blocks into their correct shapes, but more often than not the blocks would get stuck...and B would scream. He has started to screaming to express his displeasure...it's pleasant.
Several times I tried to move his hand with the block to the correct opening and B would get pretty unhappy. He actually shook my hand off once. So, I was once again attempting to help B try to fit a block in the correct space, to prevent the screaming, when he looked up at me and proclaimed, "I do it."
It figures that B's first three word sentence would be him proclaiming his independence. Not even twenty months old and already using a three word sentence. I'm so proud.
Anyway, on Thursday M was at school so B and I spent the morning reading books and playing with his various toys. He really wanted to play with a bucket of blocks that has openings at the top of the container in the shapes of the different blocks. B was really concentrating and sometimes actually fitting the blocks into their correct shapes, but more often than not the blocks would get stuck...and B would scream. He has started to screaming to express his displeasure...it's pleasant.
Several times I tried to move his hand with the block to the correct opening and B would get pretty unhappy. He actually shook my hand off once. So, I was once again attempting to help B try to fit a block in the correct space, to prevent the screaming, when he looked up at me and proclaimed, "I do it."
It figures that B's first three word sentence would be him proclaiming his independence. Not even twenty months old and already using a three word sentence. I'm so proud.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Brave Little Jumpers
The boys and I have been going to the pool about three to four times per week. It's been fairly warm, so it's a great way to cool off in the afternoon and it occupies us for several hours.
Today, we ran into some friends at the pool and the boys had fun splashing around the little kiddie pool and then "swimming" in the larger pool with E and J. I have been trying for weeks to get them to jump into my arms in the pool, but both M and B have firmly refused. B will jump at me from the stairs inside the pool, but it's more like walking off of the stairs into my arms.
Today E, she's a really sweet almost five year old girl, was jumping from the side of the pool into her mom's arms and having a great time. M took one look at this and decided that he had to try this as well. He climbed out of the pool and prepared to jump. Then he hesitated and said, "Mommy, come closer to the wall." I moved closer. "Closer, Mommy." I was now standing right next to the wall. M walked off the wall into my arms. "Mommy, I jumped! I jumped!"
Yes, M, you jumped. Sort of.
B saw this and made me take him out of his floaty tube and place him on the side of the pool. He actually leaped off of the side of the pool without waiting to see if I was ready to catch him. B continued this process about ten more times.
The world would be a boring place if we were all the same.
Today, we ran into some friends at the pool and the boys had fun splashing around the little kiddie pool and then "swimming" in the larger pool with E and J. I have been trying for weeks to get them to jump into my arms in the pool, but both M and B have firmly refused. B will jump at me from the stairs inside the pool, but it's more like walking off of the stairs into my arms.
Today E, she's a really sweet almost five year old girl, was jumping from the side of the pool into her mom's arms and having a great time. M took one look at this and decided that he had to try this as well. He climbed out of the pool and prepared to jump. Then he hesitated and said, "Mommy, come closer to the wall." I moved closer. "Closer, Mommy." I was now standing right next to the wall. M walked off the wall into my arms. "Mommy, I jumped! I jumped!"
Yes, M, you jumped. Sort of.
B saw this and made me take him out of his floaty tube and place him on the side of the pool. He actually leaped off of the side of the pool without waiting to see if I was ready to catch him. B continued this process about ten more times.
The world would be a boring place if we were all the same.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Jealousy
Yesterday was Father's Day. In honor of the occasion, the boys and I went with Papa Bear to spend the day with P.B.'s family. We went to a Japanese restaurant to have Sushi for lunch. It took a super long time for the food to arrive and by that time, some of us were ready to pull our hair out...I don't want to name any names, but it was P.B.
When I was done eating, I held baby D (the boys' 8 month old cousin) so that everyone else could finish their meal...and so I could hold him. D is so cute and chubby. Anyway, B took one look at the baby on my lap and immediately began to SCREAM for me...in the middle of the restaurant. Not at all embarrassing. B started trying to climb out of the highchair and when P.B. removed him, B started squirming out of his arms. B then walked around the table crying, "Mommy, mommy, mymie, mooooooommmmy!" until he got to me and I picked him up.
B calmly turned towards D, with a huge smile on his face, and pointed out the baby's facial features. But, just as soon as I thought all was settled, B turned around and tried to shove baby D off of my lap. When I stopped him from actually pushing the baby, B became very angry and said, "No. Mine!" Apparently, I am his possession.
I'm almost ashamed to say that B's jealousy made my heart a little bit glad...almost, but not quite.
When I was done eating, I held baby D (the boys' 8 month old cousin) so that everyone else could finish their meal...and so I could hold him. D is so cute and chubby. Anyway, B took one look at the baby on my lap and immediately began to SCREAM for me...in the middle of the restaurant. Not at all embarrassing. B started trying to climb out of the highchair and when P.B. removed him, B started squirming out of his arms. B then walked around the table crying, "Mommy, mommy, mymie, mooooooommmmy!" until he got to me and I picked him up.
B calmly turned towards D, with a huge smile on his face, and pointed out the baby's facial features. But, just as soon as I thought all was settled, B turned around and tried to shove baby D off of my lap. When I stopped him from actually pushing the baby, B became very angry and said, "No. Mine!" Apparently, I am his possession.
I'm almost ashamed to say that B's jealousy made my heart a little bit glad...almost, but not quite.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Who Is Stronger?
This afternoon, I was looking up some information on the web while the boys played on the living room floor. I looked down because the movement seemed to stop momentarily. B was lieing on top of M, in what can only be described as a wrestling move, and had him pinned to the floor. M looked up at me, his eyes pleading. He could not move. That's right, 1.5 year old B had immobilized 3.25 year old M.
I don't want to condone this type of behavior, but way to go B.
This may be the beginning of some interesting struggles between those two. Who do you think will win? I'm taking bets.
I don't want to condone this type of behavior, but way to go B.
This may be the beginning of some interesting struggles between those two. Who do you think will win? I'm taking bets.
The Jumping Crickets
It has been HOT here lately, in the 90's. Sometimes when the mercury rises to that level for several days, the crickets begin to congregate in the shade of the house. After dinner a few evenings ago, I walked into the backyard and noticed several seeking solace by the rear wall of the house. As the boys are fascinated with insects of late, I called them outside to see the crickets.
I believe that I have previously mentioned that I have been trying not to act like a "girl" in regards to insects while in the presence of the boys. I'm not sure exactly what I am hoping to accomplish by this other than to not scare them and also to allow them their healthy interest without my prejudiced input. So, back to the crickets.
M asked if he could touch one of the crickets because, let's face it, bugs are only fun to touch, poke at, or prod...or dispose of into the nearest receptacle. I told him to go ahead and touch, but to be aware that they jump. M, with B directly on his heels, leaned down to touch the cricket which promptly began jumping. Unfortunately, the little bugger jumped right into my legs. Despite my best intentions, I began screaming, jumping up and down and flailing my arms like, well...a girl.
M and B thought this to be the height of hilarity. They began screaming, jumping up and down and flailing their arms. They continued to prod the crickets so that the crickets would jump and the boys could persist with this mimicry.
Lesson learned: Jumping cricket=Jumping mom=Jumping boys. (I didn't say there was a moral, just a lesson.)
I believe that I have previously mentioned that I have been trying not to act like a "girl" in regards to insects while in the presence of the boys. I'm not sure exactly what I am hoping to accomplish by this other than to not scare them and also to allow them their healthy interest without my prejudiced input. So, back to the crickets.
M asked if he could touch one of the crickets because, let's face it, bugs are only fun to touch, poke at, or prod...or dispose of into the nearest receptacle. I told him to go ahead and touch, but to be aware that they jump. M, with B directly on his heels, leaned down to touch the cricket which promptly began jumping. Unfortunately, the little bugger jumped right into my legs. Despite my best intentions, I began screaming, jumping up and down and flailing my arms like, well...a girl.
M and B thought this to be the height of hilarity. They began screaming, jumping up and down and flailing their arms. They continued to prod the crickets so that the crickets would jump and the boys could persist with this mimicry.
Lesson learned: Jumping cricket=Jumping mom=Jumping boys. (I didn't say there was a moral, just a lesson.)
Monday, June 9, 2008
M's End of The School Year Program
When I taught the fifth grade, I absolutely loathed the Christmas program that the music teacher put together for the parents every year. The kids worked hard for a month or so to memorize a song, dance, etc. to show their parents in an auditorium of a nearby school that we rented out for the night. At the time, I was fairly resentful of having to spend an evening of my time watching other people's kids perform something that I could have cared less about. (I just re-read what I wrote and realize that these statements are enough of a reason that parents should pray I never return to the classroom.)
Well, tonight Papa Bear and I dressed the kids and raced out the door to attend M's very first end-of-the-year program. We sat through ten to fifteen minutes of other people's children singing and dancing (and quite a few picking of noses) and waited patiently for M to take the stage. We brought a video camera and two cameras (one of which has video capabilities as well) and went to town capturing our oldest son and his classmates on all three devices...over kill? maybe, but so worth it.
We sat in eager anticipation wondering if M would be one of the criers, the nose-pickers or the one who stood there staring out at the audience in a kind of deer-caught-in-headlights stance. As we waited, some more patiently than others...B was not thrilled with his forced confinement...the excitement grew. Okay, I'm just being melodramatic for effect, but it was pretty exciting.
Then, the preschool owner got on stage to announce Ms. Wendy's class and the curtains opened to M and his little classmates standing there in their various Peter Pan themed attire. (M was a Lost Boy in raggedy white t-shirt and ripped jeans.) The song "Following The Leader" started to play over the loud speakers and the kids started walking around a tipee in the middle of the stage...and walking, and walking, and walking. They all followed the leader...I honestly have no idea who that leader was, but they all did a great job of walking. Then it was over.
The audience, comprised of family members and those forced to accompany family members, applauded and M's performance was over just like that. And I couldn't have been more proud. M was not the nose picker (thank god for small miracles.) M was not the crier. M was not the deer-caught-in-headlights. He followed the leader and did a great job.
This time I was not the irritated teacher who had to give up a night to watch a herd of kids perform badly. I was the proud mother watching her son perform perfectly.
(If I ever figure out how to post video on this blog, you too will get the privilege of watching M in his breakout role.)
Well, tonight Papa Bear and I dressed the kids and raced out the door to attend M's very first end-of-the-year program. We sat through ten to fifteen minutes of other people's children singing and dancing (and quite a few picking of noses) and waited patiently for M to take the stage. We brought a video camera and two cameras (one of which has video capabilities as well) and went to town capturing our oldest son and his classmates on all three devices...over kill? maybe, but so worth it.
We sat in eager anticipation wondering if M would be one of the criers, the nose-pickers or the one who stood there staring out at the audience in a kind of deer-caught-in-headlights stance. As we waited, some more patiently than others...B was not thrilled with his forced confinement...the excitement grew. Okay, I'm just being melodramatic for effect, but it was pretty exciting.
Then, the preschool owner got on stage to announce Ms. Wendy's class and the curtains opened to M and his little classmates standing there in their various Peter Pan themed attire. (M was a Lost Boy in raggedy white t-shirt and ripped jeans.) The song "Following The Leader" started to play over the loud speakers and the kids started walking around a tipee in the middle of the stage...and walking, and walking, and walking. They all followed the leader...I honestly have no idea who that leader was, but they all did a great job of walking. Then it was over.
The audience, comprised of family members and those forced to accompany family members, applauded and M's performance was over just like that. And I couldn't have been more proud. M was not the nose picker (thank god for small miracles.) M was not the crier. M was not the deer-caught-in-headlights. He followed the leader and did a great job.
This time I was not the irritated teacher who had to give up a night to watch a herd of kids perform badly. I was the proud mother watching her son perform perfectly.
(If I ever figure out how to post video on this blog, you too will get the privilege of watching M in his breakout role.)
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Our Outdoor Weekend
On Friday, Papa Bear took the day off of work and we decided that we should take the boys to see one of their favorite things...trains. Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to check on whether the steam trains in Tilden Park were open on weekdays...they are not. M was so excited to see the trains and was sooooooooo very sad when we arrived only to leave without getting aboard a train. We told him that they were sleeping because they have to work so hard. It was awfully sad to hear him continue asking about them the entire rest of the day...and it did get a bit annoying after a while.
Anyway, we quickly rectified the situation by taking the kids to "Little Farm" which is also located in Tilden Park. We've taken the boys before and they love it. There are cows, goats, sheep, chicken, rabbits, pigs, geese, turkeys and ducks...your basic farm animals. If one plans to come, one can bring lettuce and celery to feed the animals. Fortunately, a nice woman gave M some celery to feed a cow and he was thrilled. The boys pointed out all of the animals and told us what sounds they make and got to pet some of them. All in all, it was a successful day. (I almost forgot to mention that our picnic before hand was hummus and naan. Yep, our 1.5 and 3 year olds LOVE hummus.)
On Saturday, we borrowed a child backpack carrier from a friend, to carry B, and took the boys on their first "hike". We took them to Dry Creek which is where we used to take Scooby regularly before we had the kids. Surprisingly, M did very well. He walked about 3/4 of the way, which I estimate was about a mile. He had a blast picking flowers (weeds), finding sticks, examining insects, and looking for birds. We stopped at a point where the creek still had some water and let the boys run around throwing twigs and pebbles into the water. They also tried to pick up some of the assorted insects from the ground. They had a blast and M asked to go on another hike.
Today, we decided to take the boys back to the steam trains. P.B. told M while I was out of the room and he came running to me, full of excitement. "Come on Mommy, the trains are awake! They're not sleeping, Mommy! Come on Mommy, we go see the trains. Now!" His excited chatter continued the entire way to the trains and both boys were absolutely thrilled to ride on the scaled down, but real steam trains. Boys and their trains.
It was a fun weekend.
Anyway, we quickly rectified the situation by taking the kids to "Little Farm" which is also located in Tilden Park. We've taken the boys before and they love it. There are cows, goats, sheep, chicken, rabbits, pigs, geese, turkeys and ducks...your basic farm animals. If one plans to come, one can bring lettuce and celery to feed the animals. Fortunately, a nice woman gave M some celery to feed a cow and he was thrilled. The boys pointed out all of the animals and told us what sounds they make and got to pet some of them. All in all, it was a successful day. (I almost forgot to mention that our picnic before hand was hummus and naan. Yep, our 1.5 and 3 year olds LOVE hummus.)
On Saturday, we borrowed a child backpack carrier from a friend, to carry B, and took the boys on their first "hike". We took them to Dry Creek which is where we used to take Scooby regularly before we had the kids. Surprisingly, M did very well. He walked about 3/4 of the way, which I estimate was about a mile. He had a blast picking flowers (weeds), finding sticks, examining insects, and looking for birds. We stopped at a point where the creek still had some water and let the boys run around throwing twigs and pebbles into the water. They also tried to pick up some of the assorted insects from the ground. They had a blast and M asked to go on another hike.
Today, we decided to take the boys back to the steam trains. P.B. told M while I was out of the room and he came running to me, full of excitement. "Come on Mommy, the trains are awake! They're not sleeping, Mommy! Come on Mommy, we go see the trains. Now!" His excited chatter continued the entire way to the trains and both boys were absolutely thrilled to ride on the scaled down, but real steam trains. Boys and their trains.
It was a fun weekend.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Big Brother M - The New Super Hero
Papa Bear and I have been trying to teach M how to be a good big brother. Now, I realize that this is probably a subjective concept as in, ask ten people what a "good" big brother is and you'll get ten different answers. For our 3 year old though, a "good" big brother is one who does not hit, pull hair, shove, bite, or otherwise manhandle his little brother. Not that M regularly practices any of the aforementioned physicallities, but it is not a far stretch to occasionally view something unpleasant transpire between the munchkins.
P.B. and I decided that in order to get M to be nicer to his little bro, we needed to get him to feel responsible for B's safety and well being. Thus, over the past few months we have been coaching and encouraging M to help B with various endeavors, asking M to keep B away from certain dangers (nothing serious) and reminding him that it is his job to take care of his little brother. Recently, it was heart warming to see M putting these lessons to work.
On Wednesday, we went to feed the ducks and geese with Ama, which is a favorite pastime of the boys. A couple of the geese were getting overly familiar with the boys...they were super close to the boys' faces like they were going to peck their eyes out if the bread didn't come forth quickly enough. I was about to step in and shoo the birds away when M started yelling at the birds to "go away". M then grabbed B's elbow and tried to pull him away from the birds. How sweet is that! Of course, I told M WHAT A GREAT BIG BROTHER he is!
A few hours later Ama and I took the boys to Heather Farm park in Walnut Creek for a picnic. After eating, the boys went to play in the sand and on some of the structures. B was sitting in a play car turning the steering wheel with Ama, Matthew and me sitting in the back...enjoying the ride. A little boy about M's age crawled into the back with the three of us and then climbed into the front seat where B was located. M followed that boy and told him to leave his brother alone; he said a lot more than that, but let's just leave it there. I suppose it should be noted that the little boy didn't talk to B, touch B or in any way harm B. However, Big Brother M decided that it was his job to make sure that should this boy decide to try anything nefarious towards his brother, that BBM would be on the job. At least it was well intentioned and our job's done...B will be well cared for should we need M to take over. That's legal...right?
P.B. and I decided that in order to get M to be nicer to his little bro, we needed to get him to feel responsible for B's safety and well being. Thus, over the past few months we have been coaching and encouraging M to help B with various endeavors, asking M to keep B away from certain dangers (nothing serious) and reminding him that it is his job to take care of his little brother. Recently, it was heart warming to see M putting these lessons to work.
On Wednesday, we went to feed the ducks and geese with Ama, which is a favorite pastime of the boys. A couple of the geese were getting overly familiar with the boys...they were super close to the boys' faces like they were going to peck their eyes out if the bread didn't come forth quickly enough. I was about to step in and shoo the birds away when M started yelling at the birds to "go away". M then grabbed B's elbow and tried to pull him away from the birds. How sweet is that! Of course, I told M WHAT A GREAT BIG BROTHER he is!
A few hours later Ama and I took the boys to Heather Farm park in Walnut Creek for a picnic. After eating, the boys went to play in the sand and on some of the structures. B was sitting in a play car turning the steering wheel with Ama, Matthew and me sitting in the back...enjoying the ride. A little boy about M's age crawled into the back with the three of us and then climbed into the front seat where B was located. M followed that boy and told him to leave his brother alone; he said a lot more than that, but let's just leave it there. I suppose it should be noted that the little boy didn't talk to B, touch B or in any way harm B. However, Big Brother M decided that it was his job to make sure that should this boy decide to try anything nefarious towards his brother, that BBM would be on the job. At least it was well intentioned and our job's done...B will be well cared for should we need M to take over. That's legal...right?
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Spiders, Spiders Everywhere
M, B and I were sitting on the floor in the living room this morning when a thick, hairy, super-big spider raced towards us. My instincts told me to jump up, scream and drag the kids out of the house to safety...I am indeed very scared of spiders. Instead, I looked at the boys' faces and realized that this option may not be the best way of dealing with such impressionables in my presence. So, I swatted at the spider and hoped it and it's disgustingness would scurry off in a different direction. It was not to be...the little bugger raced right back towards us with M and B laughing hysterically.
At this point I, too, was hysterical, but NOT with laughter...but I kept this to myself and didn't allow the boys to see how horrified I was. M and B were having a great time laughing and examining the arachnid, when M reached over and swatted the spider himself. It curled up for a few seconds before once again racing towards us while the boys squealed with delight. It was time to put an end to this immediately, but what to do? I grabbed a wet-wipe, used it to scoop up the creepy-crawler and dumped it outside. The boys ran over to watch the freed creature scurry away.
That would have been the end of this story, but you will remember that these boys are impressionable and also love insects, bugs, animals...you get the picture. Anyway, M and B were playing behind the Lazy-Boy this afternoon when M screamed excitedly, "There's a spider, Mommy! Come, look." I, of course, did not go look. A second late, M came walking out from behind the chair, spider in hand and asked me to open the door so that he could put it outside. Monkey see, monkey do...not that I'm implying that either one of us is a monkey.
At least I'm not passing on the inordinate fear of all things insect to my off-spring.
At this point I, too, was hysterical, but NOT with laughter...but I kept this to myself and didn't allow the boys to see how horrified I was. M and B were having a great time laughing and examining the arachnid, when M reached over and swatted the spider himself. It curled up for a few seconds before once again racing towards us while the boys squealed with delight. It was time to put an end to this immediately, but what to do? I grabbed a wet-wipe, used it to scoop up the creepy-crawler and dumped it outside. The boys ran over to watch the freed creature scurry away.
That would have been the end of this story, but you will remember that these boys are impressionable and also love insects, bugs, animals...you get the picture. Anyway, M and B were playing behind the Lazy-Boy this afternoon when M screamed excitedly, "There's a spider, Mommy! Come, look." I, of course, did not go look. A second late, M came walking out from behind the chair, spider in hand and asked me to open the door so that he could put it outside. Monkey see, monkey do...not that I'm implying that either one of us is a monkey.
At least I'm not passing on the inordinate fear of all things insect to my off-spring.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
A Conversation With M
Yesterday afternoon, I piled the boys into the car and headed off to Osage park to meet some friends. We were listening to the radio and as I pulled the car into the parking lot a reporter announced that there was a mountain lion sighting behind the park earlier in the day. I called our friends and arranged to meet elsewhere. Following is as close to the actual conversation that M and I proceeded to have as I can recall.
Me: "Boys, we have to go to a different park.
M: "Why?"
Me: "Uhhhhh. There was a big animal near the park so we have to go to a different park."
M: "A scary animal?"
Me: "Yes, it was a scary animal?"
M: "An elephant, Mommy?"
Me: "No, it wasn't an elephant, M. We only see elephants at the zoo."
M: "Oh. What animal, Mommy?"
Me: "It was a mountain lion."
M: "We go back and see lion mountain, Mommy?"
Me: "No. We are not going back to see the MOUNTAIN LION, M. We are going to a different park."
M: "I tell grandpa that we saw lion mountain. We go and see grandpa safta, Mommy? Can you set it up?"
Apparently, I have been relegated to the role of secretary. Can you set it up? Can you believe it? It's moments until he he'll be heading business meetings...
Me: "Boys, we have to go to a different park.
M: "Why?"
Me: "Uhhhhh. There was a big animal near the park so we have to go to a different park."
M: "A scary animal?"
Me: "Yes, it was a scary animal?"
M: "An elephant, Mommy?"
Me: "No, it wasn't an elephant, M. We only see elephants at the zoo."
M: "Oh. What animal, Mommy?"
Me: "It was a mountain lion."
M: "We go back and see lion mountain, Mommy?"
Me: "No. We are not going back to see the MOUNTAIN LION, M. We are going to a different park."
M: "I tell grandpa that we saw lion mountain. We go and see grandpa safta, Mommy? Can you set it up?"
Apparently, I have been relegated to the role of secretary. Can you set it up? Can you believe it? It's moments until he he'll be heading business meetings...
Monday, April 28, 2008
Bike Riding
On Saturday, Papa Bear and I took the boys on a bike ride to the park. P.B.'s bike was hooked up to a trailer that holds the boys and any other stuff that we may need along the way and at the park. I'm guessing that this adds another hundred or so pounds to P.B's load which is especially important to note since our route was fairly hilly.
We struggled our way up the hills and were relieved to feel the breeze on the infrequent down slopes. The fact that it was a super hot day didn't help the fact that we had to work our rear ends off to get up a few of those hills...especially P.B. carrying those behemoths we call our children. Anyway, M and B were yelling, "Wheeeeeeee." while we were going down the hills, clearly having the time of their lives. (Apparently we don't need to take them on amusement park rides; we've just been wasting our money.) We had just finished riding down an especially steep hill and were struggling up an awful hill when M said, "Baba! Go faster!" That little boy is lucky that P.B. didn't stop the bike and dump him off on the side of the road.
We struggled our way up the hills and were relieved to feel the breeze on the infrequent down slopes. The fact that it was a super hot day didn't help the fact that we had to work our rear ends off to get up a few of those hills...especially P.B. carrying those behemoths we call our children. Anyway, M and B were yelling, "Wheeeeeeee." while we were going down the hills, clearly having the time of their lives. (Apparently we don't need to take them on amusement park rides; we've just been wasting our money.) We had just finished riding down an especially steep hill and were struggling up an awful hill when M said, "Baba! Go faster!" That little boy is lucky that P.B. didn't stop the bike and dump him off on the side of the road.
Movin' On Up
B has officially made it to the 75th percentile. He had his 18 month well check appointment today and weighed in at 27 lbs. 4 oz. and was measured at 33 inches long. (I wonder if he can now fight in the heavyweight category. I couldn't be more proud.) The boy who used to be squarely in the 50th percentile at every appointment has finally begun to display characteristics from his father's gene pool. However, B still has another 15 percentage points to hit before he reaches his brother's category.
True to form, B was fully aware of what a doctor's appointment entails and began SCREAMING as soon as the nurse entered the patient room with us. She made several comments along the lines of worrying that others might think she was pulling out his finger nails one by one and that she was just warming B up for the doctor. Apparently, most kids don't scream/carry-on/become drama-queens like this until they are at least 2 years old. Well, B is not one to dilly-dally when it comes to letting others know about his displeasure and this was no exception. Fortunately, the doctor is AWESOME and B didn't cry even once after he came into the room. He has a real knack at making the little ones feel comfortable...he even gave B a train book to take home with him...bet you didn't know that Kaiser now pays you to bring your kids to appointments:)
Next appointment in 6 months. Do you think he'll remember the injections?
True to form, B was fully aware of what a doctor's appointment entails and began SCREAMING as soon as the nurse entered the patient room with us. She made several comments along the lines of worrying that others might think she was pulling out his finger nails one by one and that she was just warming B up for the doctor. Apparently, most kids don't scream/carry-on/become drama-queens like this until they are at least 2 years old. Well, B is not one to dilly-dally when it comes to letting others know about his displeasure and this was no exception. Fortunately, the doctor is AWESOME and B didn't cry even once after he came into the room. He has a real knack at making the little ones feel comfortable...he even gave B a train book to take home with him...bet you didn't know that Kaiser now pays you to bring your kids to appointments:)
Next appointment in 6 months. Do you think he'll remember the injections?
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Ketchup
Last weekend we went to L.A. to visit Grandpa and Safta and go to Disneyland. One of the nights Papa Bear and I took the boys out for fast food...we are such big spenders. B tried to feed me a french fry by shoving it into my mouth. I kindly declined. B wouldn't take no for an answer and continued trying to force feed me the fry. Was this worth a fight?
Finally giving in to the inevitable, I realized that I was not going to win this battle of the wills over a stupid french fry. However, if I was going to eat this french fry, I wanted some ketchup so I asked B for some ketchup. He stopped. He squinted his eyes as if thinking. He put the french fry down on the paper covered tray. He put his fingers into the ketchup and tried to give me a fist full of ketchup...no french fry included.
I guess my instructions could use some clarity. Sometimes it takes a toddler to point out the logistical errors with your speech.
Finally giving in to the inevitable, I realized that I was not going to win this battle of the wills over a stupid french fry. However, if I was going to eat this french fry, I wanted some ketchup so I asked B for some ketchup. He stopped. He squinted his eyes as if thinking. He put the french fry down on the paper covered tray. He put his fingers into the ketchup and tried to give me a fist full of ketchup...no french fry included.
I guess my instructions could use some clarity. Sometimes it takes a toddler to point out the logistical errors with your speech.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Andy's 34th Birthday!
Includes the infamous, "I love you, Uncle Ephan!" Spontaneous outburst picture from M when he saw the cake.
Monday, March 24, 2008
B's First Sentence
Today, the boys and I went to lunch with Ama. It was a buffet and the boys had a blast stuffing their respective mouths full of buffet-esque food. The food was everywhere...the table, their faces, their clothes, I even found some while changing B later. Anyway, after they had finished their "main" courses, I brought them each a few cubed slices of various colored jello. M has had jello before, but I can't recall whether or not B has. Regardless, it was a big hit with both boys and when B had finished shoveling in his last piece, he turned to me and said, "Mo jejo." (More jello). His first sentence. I was/am so proud of him.
Fifteen minutes later, we said goodbye to Ama and B said his second ever sentence. "Bu-bu Myma." (Bye-bye Ama) Could you just die from the cuteness?...admit it, you could.
Fifteen minutes later, we said goodbye to Ama and B said his second ever sentence. "Bu-bu Myma." (Bye-bye Ama) Could you just die from the cuteness?...admit it, you could.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes
Lately, I've been teaching B the names of the parts of his head. He has learned to point to his hair, nose, eyes and mouth when asked. He especially loves pointing to his eyes and then trying to poke out my eyeballs...at that point he giggles hysterically and then tries all over again. The kid has a mean streak.
Tonight the four of us ate dinner together and I was showing Papa Bear B's new skill of identifying his different facial features. When asked to show where his eyes are, B fluttered his eyes and then smiled a huge, proud smile. P.B. was thrilled. When asked where his nose was located, B pointed to it with his food-covered index finger. When asked where his mouth was, B picked up his fork and put his food in his mouth. I started to ask B to show P.B. where his hair was when the much wiser-than-mama parental figure indicated that filthy hands and hair were not a good combination.
Tonight the four of us ate dinner together and I was showing Papa Bear B's new skill of identifying his different facial features. When asked to show where his eyes are, B fluttered his eyes and then smiled a huge, proud smile. P.B. was thrilled. When asked where his nose was located, B pointed to it with his food-covered index finger. When asked where his mouth was, B picked up his fork and put his food in his mouth. I started to ask B to show P.B. where his hair was when the much wiser-than-mama parental figure indicated that filthy hands and hair were not a good combination.
The Second Egg Hunt
Yesterday, the boys went on their second egg-hunt of the week. This time, I determined not to stress out for M over the whole thing and just let him do what he wanted. There were a ton of kids this time, because this playgroup is much bigger and M waited in eager anticipation to begin gathering his treats. When the organizers said to go, M ran with all the rest of the kids. I was so proud as he began to gather his eggs while I followed with B in one arm and the video camera in the other.
As M stopped after finding the first batch of eggs, I am embarrassed to report that I am caught on film urging him to go find some more. The funny part is that M had stopped to check out the trees or something of that elk. He literally just stopped in the middle of the event and started looking around...I'm not positive that he was looking for eggs. Well, that's him.
After I urged him to gather more eggs, I had to tell him that he had gathered enough and that it was time to stop...I wanted to make sure that all the kids got their fair share. M wouldn't stop. Again, so proud:)
M and B sat down to enjoy the gooey goodness of M's hard work. It was then that I noticed that a bird had taken a big old crap on M's head. I hear that's good luck. That's what I told myself as I scrubbed it off his hair with wet wipes and then poured antibacterial hand cleaner over his head.
As M stopped after finding the first batch of eggs, I am embarrassed to report that I am caught on film urging him to go find some more. The funny part is that M had stopped to check out the trees or something of that elk. He literally just stopped in the middle of the event and started looking around...I'm not positive that he was looking for eggs. Well, that's him.
After I urged him to gather more eggs, I had to tell him that he had gathered enough and that it was time to stop...I wanted to make sure that all the kids got their fair share. M wouldn't stop. Again, so proud:)
M and B sat down to enjoy the gooey goodness of M's hard work. It was then that I noticed that a bird had taken a big old crap on M's head. I hear that's good luck. That's what I told myself as I scrubbed it off his hair with wet wipes and then poured antibacterial hand cleaner over his head.
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Egg Hunting
Yesterday, the boys went a-hunting for candy filled plastic eggs. Don't judge me...it was a Spring egg-hunt, nothing more. Last year, M was very hesitant and barely collected any eggs because he is so cautious and observant and the other kids would come over and grab the eggs he was trying to collect and he simply allowed it. Obviously this is simply his personality, but it makes me feel badly for him, like he's getting walked over or taken advantage of. I'm sure it doesn't bother M at all, but just watching him makes me want tobeat all of the other kids to the perimeter and
let my baby grab what he wants. I never claimed
to be rational.
Well, this year M knew what the multi-colored plastic eggs were as soon as he saw them on the kitchen counter. He began incessantly bugging me about touching them, holding th
em, opening them etc. I used these opportunities to be the worst kind of soccer mom in the world...I began "coaching" him on how to grab the eggs when we went on the hunt and to run around and grab as many as he could. (Just a note, this makes no sense for a number of reasons. First of all, if M is having fun, who really cares how many eggs he collects. Second, it's not like I'm really going to let him eat the candy from a bunch of eggs. Lastly, why do I care this much about something so unimportant? I guess I should think about this and work on it.) Anyway, M kind of nodded while his eyes turned glazed and he continued trying to figure out how to get his hands on the candy-filled-eggs. I wonder if he wanted the eggs or the candy inside more.
em, opening them etc. I used these opportunities to be the worst kind of soccer mom in the world...I began "coaching" him on how to grab the eggs when we went on the hunt and to run around and grab as many as he could. (Just a note, this makes no sense for a number of reasons. First of all, if M is having fun, who really cares how many eggs he collects. Second, it's not like I'm really going to let him eat the candy from a bunch of eggs. Lastly, why do I care this much about something so unimportant? I guess I should think about this and work on it.) Anyway, M kind of nodded while his eyes turned glazed and he continued trying to figure out how to get his hands on the candy-filled-eggs. I wonder if he wanted the eggs or the candy inside more. On the way to th
e park, I handed the boys their baskets (NOT Easter baskets) and once again instructed M on what he was supposed to do. We arrived at the park and all the kids gathered to wait for the hunt to begin while some of the moms hid the eggs. The anticipation was palpable and the kids could barely sit still...all except for M who waited patiently. Seriously, all the other kids got up and ran towards where the eggs were hidden and I had to once again remind M to shuffle or he wouldn't get any. Once again I ask, what in the world is wrong with me. M is slow. He does everything slowly and doesn't seem bothered by much at all. Why can't I just leave him
be?
e park, I handed the boys their baskets (NOT Easter baskets) and once again instructed M on what he was supposed to do. We arrived at the park and all the kids gathered to wait for the hunt to begin while some of the moms hid the eggs. The anticipation was palpable and the kids could barely sit still...all except for M who waited patiently. Seriously, all the other kids got up and ran towards where the eggs were hidden and I had to once again remind M to shuffle or he wouldn't get any. Once again I ask, what in the world is wrong with me. M is slow. He does everything slowly and doesn't seem bothered by much at all. Why can't I just leave himbe?
With my constant prodding and pushing, M managed to collect about a dozen eggs and had the time of his life stuffing his face with sugary delights. B, who I would have thought would be more aggressive, was apparently too young to understand and
just stood in place watching the goings-on. He finally managed to pick up one egg and was thrilled to share the goodies of M's hard work. The boys had fun playing in the park afterwards and the bulk of their spoils remains in the trunk of the car...hopefully to never be remembered.
just stood in place watching the goings-on. He finally managed to pick up one egg and was thrilled to share the goodies of M's hard work. The boys had fun playing in the park afterwards and the bulk of their spoils remains in the trunk of the car...hopefully to never be remembered.Tuesday, March 4, 2008
M at 3
Things I want to remember about M at 3 years old:
1)His sentences regularly consist of 3 to 8 words. (Yesterday, he used a 10 word sentence.)
2)He doesn't like any vegetables, but loves a variety of fruit and his favorite food is pot stickers.
3)His appetite has finally shrunk down to a manageable size and B regularly eats more than M.
4)He must have a night-light on to sleep at night and is afraid to go into any room if it is dark.
5)He likes to build space ships with his legos and says, "Ready, set, go. Blastoff!"
6)He can count to ten and then says, 11, 12, 14, 17, 19 or some variation of this.
7)He knows all of his rainbow colors including white and black.
8)He can identify many animals and knows what sounds they make, he knows what some of them eat and also what some of the do (i.e. swim, run, etc.)
9)He knows that he is three and can hold up three fingers to indicate such.
10)He tells me what he wants, when he wants it and how he wants it.
11)He can use the toilet, but is currently revolting.
12)He loves animals.
13)He can put on his underwear and pants by himself but almost always puts them on backwards.
14)He can wash his own hands, dry them afterwards and brush his own teeth. (The quality of the job done on the last item is debatable.)
15)He can put on his own shoes and socks. The shoes are invariably placed on the wrong foot.
16)He loves to say, "No, mommy I do it myself."
17)He grabs toys out of B's hands with great frequency and really pushes his brother around.
18)If he perceives that I or anyone else has harmed B, he gets very protective and will tell that person to leave B alone. He tells me to say sorry to B and give him a hug.
19)He still carries his "blankie" with him everywhere and likes to suck on it.
20)He loves firetrucks, garbage trucks, and tractors. He also loves the Care Bears.
21)He loves books and reading. They are probably his favorite toy.
22)He can say "cheers" in three languages, and almost cracks the glasses in each language.
23)He loves his guitars, drum and annoying kids' music cd's.
24)He now asks to go to school to see his teacher, Ms. Wendy. He loves P.E. with Ms. Tammy and music with Ms. Jan.
25)When he's upset with Papa Bear he tells P.B. to go to work. When he's upset with me, he tells me to go to Target.
1)His sentences regularly consist of 3 to 8 words. (Yesterday, he used a 10 word sentence.)
2)He doesn't like any vegetables, but loves a variety of fruit and his favorite food is pot stickers.
3)His appetite has finally shrunk down to a manageable size and B regularly eats more than M.
4)He must have a night-light on to sleep at night and is afraid to go into any room if it is dark.
5)He likes to build space ships with his legos and says, "Ready, set, go. Blastoff!"
6)He can count to ten and then says, 11, 12, 14, 17, 19 or some variation of this.
7)He knows all of his rainbow colors including white and black.
8)He can identify many animals and knows what sounds they make, he knows what some of them eat and also what some of the do (i.e. swim, run, etc.)
9)He knows that he is three and can hold up three fingers to indicate such.
10)He tells me what he wants, when he wants it and how he wants it.
11)He can use the toilet, but is currently revolting.
12)He loves animals.
13)He can put on his underwear and pants by himself but almost always puts them on backwards.
14)He can wash his own hands, dry them afterwards and brush his own teeth. (The quality of the job done on the last item is debatable.)
15)He can put on his own shoes and socks. The shoes are invariably placed on the wrong foot.
16)He loves to say, "No, mommy I do it myself."
17)He grabs toys out of B's hands with great frequency and really pushes his brother around.
18)If he perceives that I or anyone else has harmed B, he gets very protective and will tell that person to leave B alone. He tells me to say sorry to B and give him a hug.
19)He still carries his "blankie" with him everywhere and likes to suck on it.
20)He loves firetrucks, garbage trucks, and tractors. He also loves the Care Bears.
21)He loves books and reading. They are probably his favorite toy.
22)He can say "cheers" in three languages, and almost cracks the glasses in each language.
23)He loves his guitars, drum and annoying kids' music cd's.
24)He now asks to go to school to see his teacher, Ms. Wendy. He loves P.E. with Ms. Tammy and music with Ms. Jan.
25)When he's upset with Papa Bear he tells P.B. to go to work. When he's upset with me, he tells me to go to Target.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Back Off...Those Fries Are Mine!
Late last Friday afternoon, after finishing playing at the park, the boys and I drove into Dublin to meet Papa Bear for dinner. We picked up P.B. and then drove around for a while looking for somewhere to eat...as usual it was very well organized. P.B. suggested Popeye's Chicken to which I adamantly refused on the fact that it looks just as gross as KFC. So, as the boys started whining and all of our tempers began to fray, P.B. made the decision that we should all go to Burger King. I know, just as awful as Popeye's.
P.B. took M to the front of the restaurant to order and I took B with me to find a table. The boys were very excited; M because he knows what fast food is and B because everything is exciting to a 16 month old. Anyway, P.B. ordered chicken nuggets and french fries for the boys. I know what you're thinking...a very healthy meal:)
To my knowledge, B has never had fries before, but M has and they are definitely a favorite of his. P.B. poured the cup of fries out onto the paper-covered tray and allowed the boys to grab freely from them. It was like B had found Nirvana. I have never seen a person, or anything else for that matter, eat so voraciously. He stuffed those taters into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks, but I can tell you that he had just consumed a full snack about two hours earlier. The boys dipped those fries into ketchup and ranch dressing (my fault for opening the dressing) and made an absolute mess of themselves.
The fun really started when the supply of fries began to dwindle. The boys were seated on opposite sides of the table with the tray in between them. B started to pull the tray towards himself and away from M. M was not going to stand for this and began pulling the tray towards himself. Fearing that the remaining fries would end up on the ground, I put a portion on a napkin in front of each boy. Apparently B thought that this was not enough and started to deposit the remaining fries from the tray onto his napkin. M started complaining loudly about this injustice and tried to grab some of the fries back from B. I was now scared that there would be a fry revolt, so I divvied up all of the remaining fries to each boy and hoped this would end the problem. Instead, both boys crammed the fries into their mouths and started complaining/crying/begging for more.
P.B. ended up buying more french fries and I am left wondering what the heck is in those things that makes two toddlers act like lions in the wild fighting over their kill.
P.B. took M to the front of the restaurant to order and I took B with me to find a table. The boys were very excited; M because he knows what fast food is and B because everything is exciting to a 16 month old. Anyway, P.B. ordered chicken nuggets and french fries for the boys. I know what you're thinking...a very healthy meal:)
To my knowledge, B has never had fries before, but M has and they are definitely a favorite of his. P.B. poured the cup of fries out onto the paper-covered tray and allowed the boys to grab freely from them. It was like B had found Nirvana. I have never seen a person, or anything else for that matter, eat so voraciously. He stuffed those taters into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in weeks, but I can tell you that he had just consumed a full snack about two hours earlier. The boys dipped those fries into ketchup and ranch dressing (my fault for opening the dressing) and made an absolute mess of themselves.
The fun really started when the supply of fries began to dwindle. The boys were seated on opposite sides of the table with the tray in between them. B started to pull the tray towards himself and away from M. M was not going to stand for this and began pulling the tray towards himself. Fearing that the remaining fries would end up on the ground, I put a portion on a napkin in front of each boy. Apparently B thought that this was not enough and started to deposit the remaining fries from the tray onto his napkin. M started complaining loudly about this injustice and tried to grab some of the fries back from B. I was now scared that there would be a fry revolt, so I divvied up all of the remaining fries to each boy and hoped this would end the problem. Instead, both boys crammed the fries into their mouths and started complaining/crying/begging for more.
P.B. ended up buying more french fries and I am left wondering what the heck is in those things that makes two toddlers act like lions in the wild fighting over their kill.
The Case of The Swarming Birds
Last Tuesday, I took the boys to visit Ama and Agong in the afternoon. The boys love walking to the park right around the corner from their grandparents' house, so we try to make a trip there pretty frequently. The weather was fairly mild that day and I brought some crackers to feed the ducks, so I knew the boys would be pretty excited.
We walked to the duck pond with fairly frequent stops so that M could pick up sticks and throw pebbles into the stream. About halfway to the pond, we had to stop to let B get out of the stroller so that he too could pick up sticks and pebbles. What should have been a ten minute walk to the pond turned into something like 45 minutes...walking with young boys is always an adventure.
When we finally made it to the pond, I asked the boys if they wanted to feed the ducks...of course, they did. I gave M a baggy of crackers and the ducks and geese waddled over to him. I gave B a baggy, too, but he was too enthralled with watching the birds swarm that he forgot all about the crackers. Both boys were squealing with laughter and pointing out all the birds. The birds were very mellow and we didn't feel swarmed or invaded at all; even the biggest, meanest goose wasn't being too pushy. In a minute it will become clear why I mention this.
After the feeding was through, the boys chased the ducks around for a good fifteen minutes. They had a great time...I can't say the same for the poor birds. I'm not sure they actually enjoy having two unpredictable boys chasing and screaming at them.
Anyway, two teenagers approached us and asked if we wanted a bag of bread to feed the birds because they were done. They said that the geese had been chasing them...this probably should have raised a red flag for me, but it didn't. I told them that would be great and began to hand the boys some torn up pieces of bread. B was very happy and began to eat a piece...that kid always wants to eat. As soon as the birds caught wind of the bread in our possession, there was a rampage. Every bird in the vicinity, probably around a hundred, swarmed in and were basically trying to eat the bread right out of the boys' hands. B started crying and M yelled at the biggest, meanest goose, "You go away! You are a bad goose! You leave us alone, bad goose!"
While trying not to laugh at M's words, I was trying to shoo off some of the more aggressive birds. Some of them were actually fighting with each other over the bread. It was a bit tense as I picked up B and Ama tried to get M to a different location so the birds weren't completely encircling us. We quickly emptied the bag of bread and moved away so that the foul would leave us alone, me holding B and M hiding behind Ama's legs. Since I doubt we were actually in any danger, it was fairly humorous for me and Ama. Apparently there was no lasting trauma for the boys because as soon as the bread was gone and the birds had settled down, my little munchkins started chasing the smaller ducks again.
It would seem that while crackers pose mild enjoyment for the birds, bread is like crack to them and they can't get enough. Lesson learned...until next time.
We walked to the duck pond with fairly frequent stops so that M could pick up sticks and throw pebbles into the stream. About halfway to the pond, we had to stop to let B get out of the stroller so that he too could pick up sticks and pebbles. What should have been a ten minute walk to the pond turned into something like 45 minutes...walking with young boys is always an adventure.
When we finally made it to the pond, I asked the boys if they wanted to feed the ducks...of course, they did. I gave M a baggy of crackers and the ducks and geese waddled over to him. I gave B a baggy, too, but he was too enthralled with watching the birds swarm that he forgot all about the crackers. Both boys were squealing with laughter and pointing out all the birds. The birds were very mellow and we didn't feel swarmed or invaded at all; even the biggest, meanest goose wasn't being too pushy. In a minute it will become clear why I mention this.
After the feeding was through, the boys chased the ducks around for a good fifteen minutes. They had a great time...I can't say the same for the poor birds. I'm not sure they actually enjoy having two unpredictable boys chasing and screaming at them.
Anyway, two teenagers approached us and asked if we wanted a bag of bread to feed the birds because they were done. They said that the geese had been chasing them...this probably should have raised a red flag for me, but it didn't. I told them that would be great and began to hand the boys some torn up pieces of bread. B was very happy and began to eat a piece...that kid always wants to eat. As soon as the birds caught wind of the bread in our possession, there was a rampage. Every bird in the vicinity, probably around a hundred, swarmed in and were basically trying to eat the bread right out of the boys' hands. B started crying and M yelled at the biggest, meanest goose, "You go away! You are a bad goose! You leave us alone, bad goose!"
While trying not to laugh at M's words, I was trying to shoo off some of the more aggressive birds. Some of them were actually fighting with each other over the bread. It was a bit tense as I picked up B and Ama tried to get M to a different location so the birds weren't completely encircling us. We quickly emptied the bag of bread and moved away so that the foul would leave us alone, me holding B and M hiding behind Ama's legs. Since I doubt we were actually in any danger, it was fairly humorous for me and Ama. Apparently there was no lasting trauma for the boys because as soon as the bread was gone and the birds had settled down, my little munchkins started chasing the smaller ducks again.
It would seem that while crackers pose mild enjoyment for the birds, bread is like crack to them and they can't get enough. Lesson learned...until next time.
Give Him a Time-out
The following story was relayed to me by Papa Bear.
Yesterday, P.B. was out in the back yard playing with the boys and Scooby. They were climbing on the play structure and chasing balls...I hope you can figure out who was doing which activity. Anyway, apparently M got in the way of Scooby chasing a ball and since the latter has no idea how to stop himself from his desired destination, M got knocked over in the fray. M immediately started crying hysterically, although according to P.B., he was not hurt. With tears streaming down his face, M cried to P.B., "Scooby hurt me! You put him in time-out!"
P.B. said okay and told Scooby to sit down. I'm SURE Scooby learned his lesson.
Yesterday, P.B. was out in the back yard playing with the boys and Scooby. They were climbing on the play structure and chasing balls...I hope you can figure out who was doing which activity. Anyway, apparently M got in the way of Scooby chasing a ball and since the latter has no idea how to stop himself from his desired destination, M got knocked over in the fray. M immediately started crying hysterically, although according to P.B., he was not hurt. With tears streaming down his face, M cried to P.B., "Scooby hurt me! You put him in time-out!"
P.B. said okay and told Scooby to sit down. I'm SURE Scooby learned his lesson.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Mama Bear on a Rampage
Today the boys and I went to the park for a picnic and some fun in the sun. We had a nice lunch and the boys enjoyed climbing around on the play structure and laughing together. They went down the slides, swung on swings...well B did anyway since M is still not fond of swinging...climbed up ladders, crawled through tunnels and chased each other. Then we played in the sand and the real "fun" began.
There were a bunch of kids at the park today as it was President's Day and the weather was nice and sunny. M and B were playing nicely together in the sand pit when a boy sat down next to M. This boy proceeded to pick up a shovel and pour dirt over M's head. M just sat there with his mouth open in shock and I went into "Mama Bear" mode. I, very nicely and calmly, asked the approximately four and a half year old spawn-of-the-devil to stop pouring sand over M's head. This "cave-boy/demon-child/get-away-from-my-son-you-monster-boy" looked at me with what I can only describe as pure malice...I know, weird for such a young person...and picked up the shovel with sand and once again poured sand over M's head. Mind you, M had never even spoken to this child so I'm not really sure what had set off this child. Once again I asked the boy to stop pouring sand over M's head. He looked straight at me and, with the snottiest voice I've ever heard from a little child, said, "He's not YOUR son. I'll do what I want." And started to pour sand, once again, over M.
Pissed is a mild term for what I was feeling at that point. How dare someone abuse my sweet M. That honor is reserved for me only:) I turned to smart-mouthed-butthead and said, "First of all, he is my son. Secondly, you may not speak to me or any other adult like that." I know, how old am I now? When snot-nose picked up the shovel yet again, I demanded to know where his mother was and stormed over to her. I told her what had happened and she came over and gave the riot act to her little monster. He was not very nice to his mother either, which for some reason, made me feel a little better.
Anyway, M was not really traumatized. He just shook off the sand and kept playing with B. I wish I could say that the little boy learned a positive lesson from this. I wish I could say that in the future his mother will actually sit facing her son on the playground rather than chatting with her friends with her back to her son and having no idea where he is or what he's doing. I wish I could say that M learned a valuable lesson from this experience...I did tell him that he's never allowed to speak to adults, or anyone else, the way that boy spoke to me. However, I don't think any of these things happened. I think instead, that M taught me a lesson. Just keep on playing, after all, it's just sand.
There were a bunch of kids at the park today as it was President's Day and the weather was nice and sunny. M and B were playing nicely together in the sand pit when a boy sat down next to M. This boy proceeded to pick up a shovel and pour dirt over M's head. M just sat there with his mouth open in shock and I went into "Mama Bear" mode. I, very nicely and calmly, asked the approximately four and a half year old spawn-of-the-devil to stop pouring sand over M's head. This "cave-boy/demon-child/get-away-from-my-son-you-monster-boy" looked at me with what I can only describe as pure malice...I know, weird for such a young person...and picked up the shovel with sand and once again poured sand over M's head. Mind you, M had never even spoken to this child so I'm not really sure what had set off this child. Once again I asked the boy to stop pouring sand over M's head. He looked straight at me and, with the snottiest voice I've ever heard from a little child, said, "He's not YOUR son. I'll do what I want." And started to pour sand, once again, over M.
Pissed is a mild term for what I was feeling at that point. How dare someone abuse my sweet M. That honor is reserved for me only:) I turned to smart-mouthed-butthead and said, "First of all, he is my son. Secondly, you may not speak to me or any other adult like that." I know, how old am I now? When snot-nose picked up the shovel yet again, I demanded to know where his mother was and stormed over to her. I told her what had happened and she came over and gave the riot act to her little monster. He was not very nice to his mother either, which for some reason, made me feel a little better.
Anyway, M was not really traumatized. He just shook off the sand and kept playing with B. I wish I could say that the little boy learned a positive lesson from this. I wish I could say that in the future his mother will actually sit facing her son on the playground rather than chatting with her friends with her back to her son and having no idea where he is or what he's doing. I wish I could say that M learned a valuable lesson from this experience...I did tell him that he's never allowed to speak to adults, or anyone else, the way that boy spoke to me. However, I don't think any of these things happened. I think instead, that M taught me a lesson. Just keep on playing, after all, it's just sand.
Mowing the Lawn
I'm the one who mowes the lawn around here due to the allergies that a certain male member of the family "claims" to have. I didn't really mind it that much as it was nice to be outside and fun to have M follow me around with his lawn mower, "helping" me cut the grass. That is, until this time.
I hadn't mowed the lawn in quite a while as grass hibernates during the winter, so there was no need. Well, not only has the grass grown again, but M has "grown" quite a bit since the fall. When we used to mow the lawn together, M would follow me at quite a distance and there was not much talking. That is not the case anymore. Mowing the lawn becomes quite a different experience when your my almost three year old son is involved. Now, M follows me so closely that I'm not actually sure that there is any skin left on the heels of my feet. Now, M asks me what I'm doing every time I have to stop the machine to empty the cut grass...which was approximately every 3 minutes this past time. Now, M tries to turn on the mower himself, cuz he's a "big boy now". Now, M demands that I stop when he wants to get a closer look at something I'm about to go over on the lawn. Now, mowing the lawn kinda sucks.
This chore has indeed become quite the chore now that M is more capable of talking and less fearful of the big, bad lawn mower.
I hadn't mowed the lawn in quite a while as grass hibernates during the winter, so there was no need. Well, not only has the grass grown again, but M has "grown" quite a bit since the fall. When we used to mow the lawn together, M would follow me at quite a distance and there was not much talking. That is not the case anymore. Mowing the lawn becomes quite a different experience when your my almost three year old son is involved. Now, M follows me so closely that I'm not actually sure that there is any skin left on the heels of my feet. Now, M asks me what I'm doing every time I have to stop the machine to empty the cut grass...which was approximately every 3 minutes this past time. Now, M tries to turn on the mower himself, cuz he's a "big boy now". Now, M demands that I stop when he wants to get a closer look at something I'm about to go over on the lawn. Now, mowing the lawn kinda sucks.
This chore has indeed become quite the chore now that M is more capable of talking and less fearful of the big, bad lawn mower.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Clueless
Every group has one. That person who is always just a bit behind in getting the jokes or understanding exactly what is happening. In our little family, through no fault of his own, that person is B. He is the baby and still very young, so it's understandable that he is inevitably the last of us to understand what is going on...if he gets it at all.
On Thursday, after working out at the gym, I went to get the boys from the on-site childcare. As always when I come to pick them up, the boys joyfully ran towards me calling Mama/Mommy...this is one of my favorite times. It feels great to be wanted...but I digress. I asked M where their blankies were several times, but to no avail; he simply ignored me. Having just finished a great workout, I was in a charitable mood and calmly explained to M that we had to leave and needed to get his and B's blankies so that we could go home and get lunch. At this point, I was distracted by something else. I looked down at B and noticed that he was holding out his arm pointing to something and he had a funny look on his face. I followed the direction he was indicating and realized that he was showing me where their two blankies were. I also realized that the funny look on his face was quite simply, "Duh". My baby was wondering why I didn't see the blankies.
In that moment, I had been relegated to the clueless one of the group and slipped down a notch in the esteem of my youngest.
On Thursday, after working out at the gym, I went to get the boys from the on-site childcare. As always when I come to pick them up, the boys joyfully ran towards me calling Mama/Mommy...this is one of my favorite times. It feels great to be wanted...but I digress. I asked M where their blankies were several times, but to no avail; he simply ignored me. Having just finished a great workout, I was in a charitable mood and calmly explained to M that we had to leave and needed to get his and B's blankies so that we could go home and get lunch. At this point, I was distracted by something else. I looked down at B and noticed that he was holding out his arm pointing to something and he had a funny look on his face. I followed the direction he was indicating and realized that he was showing me where their two blankies were. I also realized that the funny look on his face was quite simply, "Duh". My baby was wondering why I didn't see the blankies.
In that moment, I had been relegated to the clueless one of the group and slipped down a notch in the esteem of my youngest.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Squeals, Watery Fun and Hugs
On Monday, the boys and I spent the day with Ama and Auntie P. We destroyed...uh, played...in the house, ate at Sweet Tomatoes, played in...around...a water fountain, took naps and took a walk in the park to see the ducks. Overall, the boys had a GREAT time.
Outside the restaurant was a water feature that M and B ran to immediately. B saw it, started pointing and actually squealed in excitement. To say that they love water would, I believe, be a drastic understatement. The water fountain has no wall around it, but rather has a graduated decline, so in essence one could walk directly into the pool that the fountain creates. Which is exactly what B did. He raced towards the fountain, and before I had the chance to sweep him away, B marched straight into the pool of water...laughing the entire time. I grabbed him before he was able to submerge his feet, but not before he realized that he might be able to take a bath. I spent the next 20 minutes, while Ama finished her lunch, trying to divert B's attention away from the fountain and his attempts at becoming a drowned rat.
Later in the afternoon, after naps, Ama and I took the boys for a walk in the park neighboring her house. We went to see the ducks and geese, which are aplenty in this park...as are their excriment; not that I'm complaining. The water foul elicited yet another squeal from B, as did the pond allow even more attempts at a slimy bath. And the best part, is that B actually tried to pry my hands off of his sweater while I was attempting to prevent his falling into the slimy pond. The nerve!
On our walk back home, B ran towards M and hugged him. Twice. It was the sweetest thing I've seen. M hugged him right back as Ama and I sighed our pleasure.
Outside the restaurant was a water feature that M and B ran to immediately. B saw it, started pointing and actually squealed in excitement. To say that they love water would, I believe, be a drastic understatement. The water fountain has no wall around it, but rather has a graduated decline, so in essence one could walk directly into the pool that the fountain creates. Which is exactly what B did. He raced towards the fountain, and before I had the chance to sweep him away, B marched straight into the pool of water...laughing the entire time. I grabbed him before he was able to submerge his feet, but not before he realized that he might be able to take a bath. I spent the next 20 minutes, while Ama finished her lunch, trying to divert B's attention away from the fountain and his attempts at becoming a drowned rat.
Later in the afternoon, after naps, Ama and I took the boys for a walk in the park neighboring her house. We went to see the ducks and geese, which are aplenty in this park...as are their excriment; not that I'm complaining. The water foul elicited yet another squeal from B, as did the pond allow even more attempts at a slimy bath. And the best part, is that B actually tried to pry my hands off of his sweater while I was attempting to prevent his falling into the slimy pond. The nerve!
On our walk back home, B ran towards M and hugged him. Twice. It was the sweetest thing I've seen. M hugged him right back as Ama and I sighed our pleasure.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Sneak Attack
For a while now, M has taken to tackling B which often starts out with B laughing while being pinned to the ground. Invariably, however, B ends up crying out in pain as M does not know how to be gentle and it is at this point that I am forced to intervene. I've given up trying to put an end to this behavior because it seems to be some ancient form of male bonding ritual that apparently begins at a very young age. It must be in the male genetic make-up. Maybe they are practicing for the hunting that they will need to do when they grow up...
This morning, I was surprised to see a bit of an alteration to this daily tackling. I watched as B surreptitiously waddled around a chair and jumped upon an unwitting M. M was initially surprised, but quickly adapted to the unanticipated tackle and began laughing. It wasn't long before both boys were rolling around on the floor giggling, tackling and hugging each other. What a great start to the morning. Even better than a steaming hot cup of coffee.
This morning, I was surprised to see a bit of an alteration to this daily tackling. I watched as B surreptitiously waddled around a chair and jumped upon an unwitting M. M was initially surprised, but quickly adapted to the unanticipated tackle and began laughing. It wasn't long before both boys were rolling around on the floor giggling, tackling and hugging each other. What a great start to the morning. Even better than a steaming hot cup of coffee.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
A Nice Winter-Time Dip in the Pool
We have suffered through a deluge of rain here for the past several weeks and both the boys and I have really begun to suffer from cabin fever. On Monday afternoon, there was a nice treat of some break-through sunshine and I asked M if he wanted to go for a bike ride around the neighborhood. He politely declined, insisting on venturing out into the backyard. The soggy, muddy, backyard. In 40 degree weather. Being the responsible mother that I am, I dressed the boys in sweats and rain boots and let them have at it.
Cut to ten minutes later and both boys had taken off their rain boots and were prancing around the grass, and the mud, in their socks. Again, being responsible, I allowed this to continue with a sigh. What could some really cold weather with soaking wet feet hurt?
A few minutes later, (I was obviously paying really close attention to their antics) I noticed B stuffing mud into his mouth. Why this boy loves to eat dirt, I cannot figure out. He eats sand at the beach, at the playground and now mud in the backyard. It's gross. He always spits it out and yet he tries it again almost every time. It can't taste good, so why in the world would he persist? One would think he would have given up by now. Anyway, I ran over and wiped his mouth out and scolded him (yeah, right) and moved him away from the muddy part of the dirt.
I went back to patio and was contemplating how much longer I was going to let them play in the frigid weather when I looked over in time to see B plopping himself down into the rain and dirt filled kiddie pool. He was submerged to his armpits. I would once again like to note that it was approximately 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside. ( I know you are completely amazed by my stellar parenting skills.) Of course, I freaked out and started running towards the pool. M apparently decided that B had had a good idea and started to march towards the pool as well. I yelled, "M! Stop it! DO NOT GET INTO THE WATER!" Unfortunately, M is almost three and has absolutely no impulse control and an apparently great ability to tune me out, so he did what any boy of his age would. He plopped himself down next to B and laughed hysterically. I'm guessing that my screaming only made things funnier for him.
At this point I figured the best course of action was to get the boys out of the pool and dried off as soon as possible. Can one get hypothermia at above freezing temperatures? I really didn't want to run an experiment using my kids as the guinea pigs. I stripped them, rushed them inside, and watched in horror as they began to run around the house naked. I actually had to hold them down to diaper and clothe them. Well, at least they got to spend some time outside...
Cut to ten minutes later and both boys had taken off their rain boots and were prancing around the grass, and the mud, in their socks. Again, being responsible, I allowed this to continue with a sigh. What could some really cold weather with soaking wet feet hurt?
A few minutes later, (I was obviously paying really close attention to their antics) I noticed B stuffing mud into his mouth. Why this boy loves to eat dirt, I cannot figure out. He eats sand at the beach, at the playground and now mud in the backyard. It's gross. He always spits it out and yet he tries it again almost every time. It can't taste good, so why in the world would he persist? One would think he would have given up by now. Anyway, I ran over and wiped his mouth out and scolded him (yeah, right) and moved him away from the muddy part of the dirt.
I went back to patio and was contemplating how much longer I was going to let them play in the frigid weather when I looked over in time to see B plopping himself down into the rain and dirt filled kiddie pool. He was submerged to his armpits. I would once again like to note that it was approximately 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside. ( I know you are completely amazed by my stellar parenting skills.) Of course, I freaked out and started running towards the pool. M apparently decided that B had had a good idea and started to march towards the pool as well. I yelled, "M! Stop it! DO NOT GET INTO THE WATER!" Unfortunately, M is almost three and has absolutely no impulse control and an apparently great ability to tune me out, so he did what any boy of his age would. He plopped himself down next to B and laughed hysterically. I'm guessing that my screaming only made things funnier for him.
At this point I figured the best course of action was to get the boys out of the pool and dried off as soon as possible. Can one get hypothermia at above freezing temperatures? I really didn't want to run an experiment using my kids as the guinea pigs. I stripped them, rushed them inside, and watched in horror as they began to run around the house naked. I actually had to hold them down to diaper and clothe them. Well, at least they got to spend some time outside...
Monday, January 28, 2008
He Wipes Noses Too
The other day, I was...indisposed, while the boys were in the kitchen munching away at their breakfast. B has had a nasty cold with all the snottiness in which this entails. Yum, yum, yum. While I was...busy, I hear B sneeze, which invariably meant that there was some sliminess finding its way down his face. However, as previously mentioned, I was unable to attend to this particular problem in a timely manner. As I wrapped up my business, I heard M call out, "Mommy, B sneezed. Oooooooooh gross, B! Baby, you have buggaws?" Then I heard nothing.
Moments later I walked into the kitchen in time to see M, who had climbed onto B's highchair, was wielding a wet-wipe and wiping B's nose. I stopped in my tracks. Awesome. I have birthed my very own nose-wiper. I wonder if he changes poopy diapers, too.
Moments later I walked into the kitchen in time to see M, who had climbed onto B's highchair, was wielding a wet-wipe and wiping B's nose. I stopped in my tracks. Awesome. I have birthed my very own nose-wiper. I wonder if he changes poopy diapers, too.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Outsmarted
I sat the boys down to their lunch today and went to go sit on the couch. After a few minutes, B raised his yogurt cup and said, "Mo." which these days means either "more" or "done". Since the cup was still full of yogurt, I made the assumption that he was attempting to let me know that he was done with his yogurt and wished for me to remove said cup from his tray. So, I stood up and started walking towards B and asked if he was done. He smiled, I swear it was slyly, shook his head to indicate "no" and continued feeding himself. I sighed and sat back down only to have the same thing happen again only but a moment later. Only this time, B's sly smile was HUGE.
I sat down, yet again, and I think you all know where this is going. Now, I might be slow on the up-take, so to speak, but I'm not a complete idiot, at least not usually. Whilst still sitting on my a*&, I asked B again if he was finished with his yogurt. Of course, this time he nodded his assent.
Is it possible that I have been outsmarted by an almost 15 month old?
I sat down, yet again, and I think you all know where this is going. Now, I might be slow on the up-take, so to speak, but I'm not a complete idiot, at least not usually. Whilst still sitting on my a*&, I asked B again if he was finished with his yogurt. Of course, this time he nodded his assent.
Is it possible that I have been outsmarted by an almost 15 month old?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The Bond of Brotherhood
In my world, anything that happens before 9am is a bit of a fog and it can be argued, by me of course, that nothing actually happens until after this time. Normally, the boys wake up sometime between 7 and 7:30 in the morning and if I'm lucky, more like 8. This is still WAY too early for some of us, but at least almost manageable. This past week, the munchkins have been rousing themselves around 6:30 to 6:45 am and this has been completely unacceptable. Papa Bear claims that he hasn't been making too much noise and that they are waking before he, but the powers that be, namely me, have a hunch that he is dispersing less than the truth, but what am I to do.
This morning, I woke up and noticed that it was 7:30 and was thrilled to have awoken on my own...not by some awful crying, screaming sound. What a treat! I took my earplugs out thinking to hear the kids the minute they stirred rather than waiting for one of them to start crying to get my attention...yes, it's a bit neglectful to wear earplugs, but I do need to be able to sleep with Papa Bear somehow. Anyway, as I pulled out the plugs I noticed something. A faint noise. Was that a giggle? Were those little voices? I lied in bed a minute to orient my ears to the sounds and realized, with delight and more than a little surprise, that the boys were whispering quietly and entertaining each other. HOLY MOLY!!!!
I probably should have stayed in bed enjoying this serendipitous treat but, alas, I am just too curious...nosy, whatever you want to call it. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the hall to check out what was going on, without disrupting the munchkins' repartee. I peeked my head in the door to see M, with ALL of his blankets, sitting in B's crib and the two of them were chatting away. M was asking B questions like, "Do you see that B? Is that funny? Do you want your blankey, baby?" To which B would just babble or giggle. It was so sweet and cute and I just wanted to preserve the moment forever. Unfortunately, all good things seem to come a quick and sudden end in this house. The boys noticed me and starting making all kinds of ruckus. "Mommy. Hi Mommy. Are you awake? Pick me up. I'm hungry. I want lunch." (We haven't quite gotten the different meals correctly identified as of yet.) "Mama mama mama mama." Of course, there was also the squealing, the jumping up and down and the loud, loud, loud demands.
The moment was over, but the sweet memory will remain.
This morning, I woke up and noticed that it was 7:30 and was thrilled to have awoken on my own...not by some awful crying, screaming sound. What a treat! I took my earplugs out thinking to hear the kids the minute they stirred rather than waiting for one of them to start crying to get my attention...yes, it's a bit neglectful to wear earplugs, but I do need to be able to sleep with Papa Bear somehow. Anyway, as I pulled out the plugs I noticed something. A faint noise. Was that a giggle? Were those little voices? I lied in bed a minute to orient my ears to the sounds and realized, with delight and more than a little surprise, that the boys were whispering quietly and entertaining each other. HOLY MOLY!!!!
I probably should have stayed in bed enjoying this serendipitous treat but, alas, I am just too curious...nosy, whatever you want to call it. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the hall to check out what was going on, without disrupting the munchkins' repartee. I peeked my head in the door to see M, with ALL of his blankets, sitting in B's crib and the two of them were chatting away. M was asking B questions like, "Do you see that B? Is that funny? Do you want your blankey, baby?" To which B would just babble or giggle. It was so sweet and cute and I just wanted to preserve the moment forever. Unfortunately, all good things seem to come a quick and sudden end in this house. The boys noticed me and starting making all kinds of ruckus. "Mommy. Hi Mommy. Are you awake? Pick me up. I'm hungry. I want lunch." (We haven't quite gotten the different meals correctly identified as of yet.) "Mama mama mama mama." Of course, there was also the squealing, the jumping up and down and the loud, loud, loud demands.
The moment was over, but the sweet memory will remain.
Uh, It's Closed
Last Saturday, Papa Bear and I realized that it was the last day of our Oakland Zoo membership and that we should take advantage of this. As mentioned in many previous posts, the zoo is M's number one favorite place. Given a choice between the zoo and keeping his little brother, I fear that I know which he would choose...we would most likely be a one child family.
Papa Bear and I packed their snacks, lunches, change of clothes, diapers, sippy cups...their entire bedroom, etc. and bundled the kids into the car. We told M that we were going to the zoo and, of course, he was thrilled. During the drive over, we were treated to a monologue detailing all the animals that we were going to see and what some of them eat. It was a...fun car ride.
Before even getting into the zoo, one has to either pay a $6 parking fee or show one's membership card to bypass this fee. Papa Bear handed me his membership card so that I could hand it to the parking attendant. She looked at the card and told me that the membership had expired the previous day and that we needed to pay the parking fee.
Papa Bear and I looked at each other in shock. How had we managed to misread the date? Seriously, how clueless are we? Are we living in a closet with no calendar, television, internet, or any access to the outside world? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...I was paralyzed because I felt so guilty. I snapped out of my daze and turned to P.B. for the money. He in turn asked the woman if we could turn around.
I looked at P.B. in amazement. Did he actually want to leave? Could he actually break his little boy's heart this way? I turned to him to ask him these very things. Before I could open my mouth, he said, "We're not paying for this. Let's go."
"M is going to be devastated," I said as I began to turn the car around.
As if on cue, M cried desperately, "Where you going? No turn round!!! Zoo is that way, Mommy!" He violently threw his arms in the opposite direction, as if I didn't know where the zoo was.
I again looked at P.B., about to plead M's case for him and was given the look. Anyone in a long term relationship knows that look. The one that says, "Don't even try it. Do you really want to piss me off when you'll lose the argument anyway?" So, I turned to M and, in my most sincere voice said, "I'm sorry baby, the zoo is closed today. They're not letting anyone in." As the lie spilled out, I wondered if there's a special kind of hell for parents who lie to their kids because it's simply the easiest thing to do. How could I explain to a not-yet-three year old that we had accidentally mistaken dates? That we were not going to pay to get inside the zoo? So, I found myself taking the easier route. The route that involved sadness for the child, but made the parent seem less at fault. The route that would help to alleviate some of the parent's guilt. I lied and prayed that my sweet little boy would understand.
Of course, M did not understand. He started crying and telling us how he really wanted to go to the zoo. I felt absolutely awful because I knew what a disappointment this was for M, so I did what any good, caring, responsible mother would do. I bribed him with sugar. "M, I'm sorry you're so sad about the zoo being closed. We can't go today, but Mommy will get you a lollipop. How does that sound? Do you want a lollipop?"
Please. Like he would say no to a lollipop. M said, "Yes, Mommy. I want lollipop. Let's go get lollipop." Papa Bear couldn't really object because, even to him this seemed like a small concession and it's not like we ever give the boys candy. So I pulled the car over at the first Rite Aid that I saw and went inside to get my devastated eldest child a sugar laden, teeth rotting, hyper making, bribe. Inside, I perused the variety of lollies and found the perfect one...a blue Care Bear. It would serve two purposes. First, and definitely most importantly, the lolly was to help M feel better and hopefully stop the tears. Second, and I want to emphasize that this was not at all that important, Papa Bear hates that I allow M to watch the Care Bears and thinks I'm trying to make him a girl. So this was partly to take a jab at the mean P.B. who wouldn't let M go to the zoo...not that I am bothered by his cheapness at all. Seriously, not at all.
I gave M his lollipop and he was so excited. We then spent the morning looking at ovens and stove tops. That's equally as fun for young children. Seriously.
Papa Bear and I packed their snacks, lunches, change of clothes, diapers, sippy cups...their entire bedroom, etc. and bundled the kids into the car. We told M that we were going to the zoo and, of course, he was thrilled. During the drive over, we were treated to a monologue detailing all the animals that we were going to see and what some of them eat. It was a...fun car ride.
Before even getting into the zoo, one has to either pay a $6 parking fee or show one's membership card to bypass this fee. Papa Bear handed me his membership card so that I could hand it to the parking attendant. She looked at the card and told me that the membership had expired the previous day and that we needed to pay the parking fee.
Papa Bear and I looked at each other in shock. How had we managed to misread the date? Seriously, how clueless are we? Are we living in a closet with no calendar, television, internet, or any access to the outside world? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...I was paralyzed because I felt so guilty. I snapped out of my daze and turned to P.B. for the money. He in turn asked the woman if we could turn around.
I looked at P.B. in amazement. Did he actually want to leave? Could he actually break his little boy's heart this way? I turned to him to ask him these very things. Before I could open my mouth, he said, "We're not paying for this. Let's go."
"M is going to be devastated," I said as I began to turn the car around.
As if on cue, M cried desperately, "Where you going? No turn round!!! Zoo is that way, Mommy!" He violently threw his arms in the opposite direction, as if I didn't know where the zoo was.
I again looked at P.B., about to plead M's case for him and was given the look. Anyone in a long term relationship knows that look. The one that says, "Don't even try it. Do you really want to piss me off when you'll lose the argument anyway?" So, I turned to M and, in my most sincere voice said, "I'm sorry baby, the zoo is closed today. They're not letting anyone in." As the lie spilled out, I wondered if there's a special kind of hell for parents who lie to their kids because it's simply the easiest thing to do. How could I explain to a not-yet-three year old that we had accidentally mistaken dates? That we were not going to pay to get inside the zoo? So, I found myself taking the easier route. The route that involved sadness for the child, but made the parent seem less at fault. The route that would help to alleviate some of the parent's guilt. I lied and prayed that my sweet little boy would understand.
Of course, M did not understand. He started crying and telling us how he really wanted to go to the zoo. I felt absolutely awful because I knew what a disappointment this was for M, so I did what any good, caring, responsible mother would do. I bribed him with sugar. "M, I'm sorry you're so sad about the zoo being closed. We can't go today, but Mommy will get you a lollipop. How does that sound? Do you want a lollipop?"
Please. Like he would say no to a lollipop. M said, "Yes, Mommy. I want lollipop. Let's go get lollipop." Papa Bear couldn't really object because, even to him this seemed like a small concession and it's not like we ever give the boys candy. So I pulled the car over at the first Rite Aid that I saw and went inside to get my devastated eldest child a sugar laden, teeth rotting, hyper making, bribe. Inside, I perused the variety of lollies and found the perfect one...a blue Care Bear. It would serve two purposes. First, and definitely most importantly, the lolly was to help M feel better and hopefully stop the tears. Second, and I want to emphasize that this was not at all that important, Papa Bear hates that I allow M to watch the Care Bears and thinks I'm trying to make him a girl. So this was partly to take a jab at the mean P.B. who wouldn't let M go to the zoo...not that I am bothered by his cheapness at all. Seriously, not at all.
I gave M his lollipop and he was so excited. We then spent the morning looking at ovens and stove tops. That's equally as fun for young children. Seriously.
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