Buy it here.
This is a fabulous toy and worth every penny. The best part? It's not very expensive.
The work bench comes with three power tool plus three more tools and interchangeable heads for the screwdriver, including a chisel attachment. It also comes with screws and bolts with drawers to contain them.
The power tools? A nail gun, a lathe and an electric screwdriver. (All of which work straight out of the box). The nail gun lights up and makes extra noises when the trigger is pulled. The lathe with the baseball bat on it is mounted to the bench and has an on off switch.
It also has extra storage for the other tools and work toys that you already own.
This is a great bench. Our son absolutely loves this toy. It has provided hours and hours of fun for him already. It has lots of different toys to play with to keep him occupied.
My only recommendation? Get some earplugs... for yourself. The power tools are loud- as they should be!
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Saturday, October 20, 2012
October 19, 2012 ~ Eau du Poop
Last night we had tornado warnings. I know, I know. You'd think with all of the tornado warnings for our neighborhood that we lived in tornado alley, but we don't. So, last night we hung out in the basement. Billy ate dinner down there and played with his new toys.
Dear Apple, thank you for adding the Emergency Alert System to the iPhone 5. I got the tornado warning before they had it up on the tv. If there had been a tornado, you might have saved our lives. So thanks for that feature.
Now, back to our regualrly scheduled post...
After bed (and expired warnings) I got to organizing. I brought home several boxes from work that needed to be trashed from the shoot.
I got out all of the boxes of baby clothes that I could find and organized them by size. It took the better part of two hours to do it. I figured, since I have the boxes now that I should get on the organizing before i either decide to sell the clothes or decide to have another baby (because organizing while encumbered by a big belly sucks).
I'm all organized, but I have to say, with each box of clothes I opened a whiff of eau du poop wafted up to my nose. You know, it's not a good smell. It stinks. And I'm not talking about toddler poop smell, I mean baby poop. Yuck. And all of the clothes were washed before putting them into boxes originally.
Well, some other kid (maybe my own, maybe someone else's) is going to get to enjoy lots of cute, slightly smelly clothes.
Dear Apple, thank you for adding the Emergency Alert System to the iPhone 5. I got the tornado warning before they had it up on the tv. If there had been a tornado, you might have saved our lives. So thanks for that feature.
Now, back to our regualrly scheduled post...
After bed (and expired warnings) I got to organizing. I brought home several boxes from work that needed to be trashed from the shoot.
I got out all of the boxes of baby clothes that I could find and organized them by size. It took the better part of two hours to do it. I figured, since I have the boxes now that I should get on the organizing before i either decide to sell the clothes or decide to have another baby (because organizing while encumbered by a big belly sucks).
I'm all organized, but I have to say, with each box of clothes I opened a whiff of eau du poop wafted up to my nose. You know, it's not a good smell. It stinks. And I'm not talking about toddler poop smell, I mean baby poop. Yuck. And all of the clothes were washed before putting them into boxes originally.
Well, some other kid (maybe my own, maybe someone else's) is going to get to enjoy lots of cute, slightly smelly clothes.
Friday, October 19, 2012
October 18, 2012 ~ Just Like Mommy
Billy wants to be "just like Mommy".
"Billy dark pants, Mommy dark pants!" he said while I was dressing him. Yes, I had on jeans and was putting him in dark blue slacks.
"Mommy socks, Billy socks!" Yes, we were both wearing socks.
"Mommy shirt, Billy shirt!" Jeez, yes, we're both dressed already. And no, not dressed alike. That's cool and all, but not my thing.
Then he found my hair tie. And he wanted it in his hair, just like Mommy. So, I gave him a silly little ponytail.
I tried to remove it but he insisted on wearing it to school. He wanted to look "just like Mommy."
No worries. When we got to school another little boy in his class was also wearing a silly ponytail.
"Billy dark pants, Mommy dark pants!" he said while I was dressing him. Yes, I had on jeans and was putting him in dark blue slacks.
"Mommy socks, Billy socks!" Yes, we were both wearing socks.
"Mommy shirt, Billy shirt!" Jeez, yes, we're both dressed already. And no, not dressed alike. That's cool and all, but not my thing.
Then he found my hair tie. And he wanted it in his hair, just like Mommy. So, I gave him a silly little ponytail.
I tried to remove it but he insisted on wearing it to school. He wanted to look "just like Mommy."
No worries. When we got to school another little boy in his class was also wearing a silly ponytail.
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
October 16, 2012 ~ The Demon/Angel
I guess it's just the terrible twos, but Billy has developed the ability to switch from demon child to perfect angel in a split second. Not even German engineering can corner that fast.
We went to Grandma's today for dinner. Happy lil man turned into screaming crabby pants pitching a fit over what was for dinner.
He has been extra tired, which means that the demon lurking just beneath the surface shows up more often. I was not surprised to see the little demon make a visit today. I'm thinking growth spurt. He's due. And when he's extra tired for no reason, it usually means that he's about to shoot up by three inches in the next week.
Yup.
Or it's just his inner demon...
I'm hoping for the growth spurt.
We went to Grandma's today for dinner. Happy lil man turned into screaming crabby pants pitching a fit over what was for dinner.
He has been extra tired, which means that the demon lurking just beneath the surface shows up more often. I was not surprised to see the little demon make a visit today. I'm thinking growth spurt. He's due. And when he's extra tired for no reason, it usually means that he's about to shoot up by three inches in the next week.
Yup.
Or it's just his inner demon...
I'm hoping for the growth spurt.
October 15, 2012 ~ Butter, Shadows and Dirty Words
Can you believe that I forgot to post? I thought I had posted this morning but we've been so busy with another shoot week that I forgot to post. And three funny things happened yesterday.
At dinner time Billy wanted applesauce. So I fixed him a bowl and put it in front of him. Then he asked me to put butter on his applesauce. Um, no. But he kept insisting that I put butter on his applesauce. Well, there was no way that I was going to put butter on his applesauce. So, unfortunately for Billy, he had to eat it without butter.
After dinner, we had a dance party in the living room. I broke out some old Disney anthology albums that I had purchased in the 90s back when I used to be huge into all things Disney. I thought Billy might like the music. Well, not only does he like the music he loves it. He thinks it's so funny. He loves all of the silly songs and the funny phrases from Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (yes, it's spelled right) to Chim Chim Cheree and all kinds of music from animated to live action movies. He especially liked Heigh Ho! from Snow White. He even began singing with me. He especially liked the part where you get to sing "dig dig dig dig." Then he noticed his shadow dancing around on the wall. I waved my hand to make my own shadow move. He was thrilled and waved his hands along to the music to make his shadow dance.
And finally we went downstairs to play with all of his toys in the playroom and Billy got into some of the toys he hasn't played with in a long time. One of the toys is a laptop that looks like a panda bear. He hasn't been much of a fan of it because it's too old for him. But now he's starting to like it. He had a lot of fun playing with that little computer but the only problem was what he kept calling it. I'm not actually going to type out that dirty word here. But if you can imagine what the word would sound like minus the "mp" that's what he kept saying. The worst part was he kept calling it Mommy's [insert dirty word here]. I'm trying to teach him how to say computer correctly but so far no success. Chalk it up to another dirty word said innocently by toddler.
At dinner time Billy wanted applesauce. So I fixed him a bowl and put it in front of him. Then he asked me to put butter on his applesauce. Um, no. But he kept insisting that I put butter on his applesauce. Well, there was no way that I was going to put butter on his applesauce. So, unfortunately for Billy, he had to eat it without butter.
After dinner, we had a dance party in the living room. I broke out some old Disney anthology albums that I had purchased in the 90s back when I used to be huge into all things Disney. I thought Billy might like the music. Well, not only does he like the music he loves it. He thinks it's so funny. He loves all of the silly songs and the funny phrases from Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (yes, it's spelled right) to Chim Chim Cheree and all kinds of music from animated to live action movies. He especially liked Heigh Ho! from Snow White. He even began singing with me. He especially liked the part where you get to sing "dig dig dig dig." Then he noticed his shadow dancing around on the wall. I waved my hand to make my own shadow move. He was thrilled and waved his hands along to the music to make his shadow dance.
And finally we went downstairs to play with all of his toys in the playroom and Billy got into some of the toys he hasn't played with in a long time. One of the toys is a laptop that looks like a panda bear. He hasn't been much of a fan of it because it's too old for him. But now he's starting to like it. He had a lot of fun playing with that little computer but the only problem was what he kept calling it. I'm not actually going to type out that dirty word here. But if you can imagine what the word would sound like minus the "mp" that's what he kept saying. The worst part was he kept calling it Mommy's [insert dirty word here]. I'm trying to teach him how to say computer correctly but so far no success. Chalk it up to another dirty word said innocently by toddler.
Monday, October 15, 2012
October 14, 2012 ~ Chim Chim Cheree
Poor Daddy. He's like a porcelain doll. First his bum foot- which is his own fault. Now he's throw out his back. Yup.
Well, the grass had to be mowed. It's true. And Daddy wanted to do it. Go Daddy. Usually, Daddy finished mowing the grass by strapping on the leaf blower and blowing all of the little clippings away. I was thinking this was a monumentally bad idea for someone who spent most of the day laid up.
So, I went to fetch Billy his little broom and I got my outdoor broom. We headed out to the front walk after Daddy had mowed that area. And then we started sweeping.
At first, Billy wasn't sure what to do. Sure, he knows how to swing the broom back and forth to scatter my freshly swept pile o' dirt. But what to do outside?
I showed him how to sweep the grass from the walk.
He quickly fell into step right behind me (and I mean right behind me). And he swept and swept. Then he gladly took over managing the project by instructing me which areas still needed sweeping.
And when he was done he swung the broom over his shoulder like a chimney sweep and headed out back.
I taught him Chim Chim Cheree and NOW he can do a little dance with him broom while singing "chim chim chim!"
Well, the grass had to be mowed. It's true. And Daddy wanted to do it. Go Daddy. Usually, Daddy finished mowing the grass by strapping on the leaf blower and blowing all of the little clippings away. I was thinking this was a monumentally bad idea for someone who spent most of the day laid up.
So, I went to fetch Billy his little broom and I got my outdoor broom. We headed out to the front walk after Daddy had mowed that area. And then we started sweeping.
At first, Billy wasn't sure what to do. Sure, he knows how to swing the broom back and forth to scatter my freshly swept pile o' dirt. But what to do outside?
I showed him how to sweep the grass from the walk.
He quickly fell into step right behind me (and I mean right behind me). And he swept and swept. Then he gladly took over managing the project by instructing me which areas still needed sweeping.
And when he was done he swung the broom over his shoulder like a chimney sweep and headed out back.
I taught him Chim Chim Cheree and NOW he can do a little dance with him broom while singing "chim chim chim!"
Taken while watching Daddy mow
The Sunday Post ~ Having A Dog
It's on my mind...
Plenty of people live without dogs. Plenty of parents of toddlers live without dogs. I just don't know how they do it. Really, how do they do it?
Why I love having a a dog and a toddler:
~ Cleaning the floor: Buddy gladly cleans up after dinner every night. He licks the floor clean. I just come around behind him and wipe everything down. He also happily snarfs random bits of food off of the toddler- you know the sticky ones stuck to his clothes? Those.
~ Learning to share: Buddy has toys too. Sometimes Billy wants them. But, since they are Buddy's, Billy has to wait or share with Buddy. And sometimes Buddy wants Billy's toys too.
~ Learning to be nice: Buddy will take plenty of toddler abuse and still love Billy. But after being hit so many times he refuses to play along and leaves the room. Billy has learned to not hit, not bite, not kick and to be gentle.
~ Entertaining the kid: Buddy is hours of endless entertainment. He's the toy that plays back. Fetch you say? Sure!
~ Big protector: Buddy guards Billy with his life. I like that.
A friend once told me she read that dogs provide a moral compass to children. I believe her. We're not born with one- we have to learn. Certainly, you don't have to have a dog to teach morals. But dogs are a huge teaching aid in this endeavor, at least in my humble opinion. Dogs are tolerant, have unconditional love, but will growl when you overstep your bounds.
Okay, let's be honest. Buddy is a special dog. He is better behaved than any dog I have owned. He has the sweetest temperament of any dog I've owned. His personality is something even people could aspire to. I don't talk a lot about him, but it's true. Don't get me wrong, his snoring last night was no fun and he has his annoying habits just like anyone. But if there's a creature out there to help teach my child how best to behave, two-footed or four, Buddy would be at the top of the list.
I just can't imagine raising a kid without a dog. And I can't imagine myself having grown up sans dogs. They are amazing creatures.
So, I'm giving mine his due. Buddy, steak tonight!
Plenty of people live without dogs. Plenty of parents of toddlers live without dogs. I just don't know how they do it. Really, how do they do it?
Why I love having a a dog and a toddler:
~ Cleaning the floor: Buddy gladly cleans up after dinner every night. He licks the floor clean. I just come around behind him and wipe everything down. He also happily snarfs random bits of food off of the toddler- you know the sticky ones stuck to his clothes? Those.
~ Learning to share: Buddy has toys too. Sometimes Billy wants them. But, since they are Buddy's, Billy has to wait or share with Buddy. And sometimes Buddy wants Billy's toys too.
~ Learning to be nice: Buddy will take plenty of toddler abuse and still love Billy. But after being hit so many times he refuses to play along and leaves the room. Billy has learned to not hit, not bite, not kick and to be gentle.
~ Entertaining the kid: Buddy is hours of endless entertainment. He's the toy that plays back. Fetch you say? Sure!
~ Big protector: Buddy guards Billy with his life. I like that.
A friend once told me she read that dogs provide a moral compass to children. I believe her. We're not born with one- we have to learn. Certainly, you don't have to have a dog to teach morals. But dogs are a huge teaching aid in this endeavor, at least in my humble opinion. Dogs are tolerant, have unconditional love, but will growl when you overstep your bounds.
Okay, let's be honest. Buddy is a special dog. He is better behaved than any dog I have owned. He has the sweetest temperament of any dog I've owned. His personality is something even people could aspire to. I don't talk a lot about him, but it's true. Don't get me wrong, his snoring last night was no fun and he has his annoying habits just like anyone. But if there's a creature out there to help teach my child how best to behave, two-footed or four, Buddy would be at the top of the list.
I just can't imagine raising a kid without a dog. And I can't imagine myself having grown up sans dogs. They are amazing creatures.
So, I'm giving mine his due. Buddy, steak tonight!
Saturday, October 13, 2012
October 12, 2012 ~ How To Train Your Dragon
Really, this post should be about Friday evening, but since we had a few snafus today, I didn't get to posting until late. So, I'm going to post about Saturday instead.
Snafus you say? (Yeah, I said snafu.)
When we woke up this morning I thought I was camping. The only difference- I didn't have a Billy snuggled into my bed. Yeah, it was cold. Really cold. And no, this time we weren't sleeping outside under the stars. It was just a broken furnace. Fortunately, the furnace opted for a balmy Fall day versus in the middle of a blizzard (because yes, I've been there done that and Grandma can gripe about it).
Snuggled up in sweaters and blankets we spent the morning in the warmest room in the house- the basement TV room. You'd think it would be the coldest, and normally it is, but apparently we need to insulate better. The TV is underground, and therefore, has the best insulation.
Billy said to me, "Mommy, TV time?" So, I got out the basket of Billy movies for him to pick. "Dragon, Mommy. Dragon"
You would think that a movie about scary dragons would be, well, too scary for Billy. Nope. He reprimanded the characters for carrying swords. "No play sharp knives!" (Yes! This lesson he has down pat!) "No hit!" "No push!" "No bite!"
I think I love this movie. He lets me know all of the lessons he knows. It's AWESOME. And he's not scared. Fire-breathing dragon? "Fire hot! No touch!" Yes! More lessons learned and reinforced.
And, not scary. Even though you would think it would be. Nope. He asked to watch it again later today. It's true. He loves his dragon movie. In fact, he has a large stuffed dragon courtesy of Grandpop and Billy rides it around the house just like Hiccup rides Toothless.
(Allow me to insert a funny story right here. This movie came out when I was pregnant. Daddy is part Viking- yes, for real, so we went to see this movie looking for names for our little lima bean. Most of the Viking names I had found had no vowels, minus Erik. We wanted something more Viking. We wanted to honor Daddy's Viking-ness. And then Disney popped out names like Hiccup and Snoutlout. Luckily for the lima bean, we opted out of Hiccup and went with something more traditional.)
So, it's late on Saturday night and Billy is NOT sleeping in his crib, pretending he's a firework. Yes, really. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Boom!" I taught him that in June. He just started repeating it again this week. Think about it. Remembering something four months ago is like remembering something one fifth of his life ago. Can you remember a silly sound someone taught you one fifth of your life ago?
I thought not.
Snafus you say? (Yeah, I said snafu.)
When we woke up this morning I thought I was camping. The only difference- I didn't have a Billy snuggled into my bed. Yeah, it was cold. Really cold. And no, this time we weren't sleeping outside under the stars. It was just a broken furnace. Fortunately, the furnace opted for a balmy Fall day versus in the middle of a blizzard (because yes, I've been there done that and Grandma can gripe about it).
Snuggled up in sweaters and blankets we spent the morning in the warmest room in the house- the basement TV room. You'd think it would be the coldest, and normally it is, but apparently we need to insulate better. The TV is underground, and therefore, has the best insulation.
Billy said to me, "Mommy, TV time?" So, I got out the basket of Billy movies for him to pick. "Dragon, Mommy. Dragon"
You would think that a movie about scary dragons would be, well, too scary for Billy. Nope. He reprimanded the characters for carrying swords. "No play sharp knives!" (Yes! This lesson he has down pat!) "No hit!" "No push!" "No bite!"
I think I love this movie. He lets me know all of the lessons he knows. It's AWESOME. And he's not scared. Fire-breathing dragon? "Fire hot! No touch!" Yes! More lessons learned and reinforced.
And, not scary. Even though you would think it would be. Nope. He asked to watch it again later today. It's true. He loves his dragon movie. In fact, he has a large stuffed dragon courtesy of Grandpop and Billy rides it around the house just like Hiccup rides Toothless.
(Allow me to insert a funny story right here. This movie came out when I was pregnant. Daddy is part Viking- yes, for real, so we went to see this movie looking for names for our little lima bean. Most of the Viking names I had found had no vowels, minus Erik. We wanted something more Viking. We wanted to honor Daddy's Viking-ness. And then Disney popped out names like Hiccup and Snoutlout. Luckily for the lima bean, we opted out of Hiccup and went with something more traditional.)
So, it's late on Saturday night and Billy is NOT sleeping in his crib, pretending he's a firework. Yes, really. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Boom!" I taught him that in June. He just started repeating it again this week. Think about it. Remembering something four months ago is like remembering something one fifth of his life ago. Can you remember a silly sound someone taught you one fifth of your life ago?
I thought not.
Friday, October 12, 2012
October 11, 2012 ~ The Terrible C Word
It's an awful word. I don't like to say it. It makes me cringe and evokes more reaction than a cuss words. It's the terrible C word. Yes. Cancer.
And it's a word floating around our house because an immediate family member has just been diagnosed. Cancer. It's a heartbreaking, slam to the gut word. I hate it.
Who?
That would be our lovable, fuzzy friend Buddy.
Yes, Buddy has cancer.
I think I knew it was coming, ever since I found the suspicious lump. That's why he had emergency surgery last week. Now we have to set up an appointment with an oncologist. We have to explore options.
For now, Buddy is okay. They took the tumor, but they didn't get all of it. They couldn't, not without removing his boy parts, which are kind of essential.
The kicker is his age. He's healthy but old. So, we now have to decide what's best for him. I wish I could just ask him and have him tell me- yes, more surgery or no, just feed me steak every night and let me go.
Argh.
Billy knows something is up. He knows Buddy is sick. And he's looked very closely at Buddy's staples all down his belly. Ugly stitches and staples. Billy has been nice enough not to touch, but is very curious about everything going on with Buddy.
So now we wait and see.
And it's a word floating around our house because an immediate family member has just been diagnosed. Cancer. It's a heartbreaking, slam to the gut word. I hate it.
Who?
That would be our lovable, fuzzy friend Buddy.
Yes, Buddy has cancer.
I think I knew it was coming, ever since I found the suspicious lump. That's why he had emergency surgery last week. Now we have to set up an appointment with an oncologist. We have to explore options.
For now, Buddy is okay. They took the tumor, but they didn't get all of it. They couldn't, not without removing his boy parts, which are kind of essential.
The kicker is his age. He's healthy but old. So, we now have to decide what's best for him. I wish I could just ask him and have him tell me- yes, more surgery or no, just feed me steak every night and let me go.
Argh.
Billy knows something is up. He knows Buddy is sick. And he's looked very closely at Buddy's staples all down his belly. Ugly stitches and staples. Billy has been nice enough not to touch, but is very curious about everything going on with Buddy.
So now we wait and see.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
October 9, 2012 ~ Pumpkin Picking and GrumpyPaws
We started our morning with a scheduled trip to the vet. We had to drop Buddy off for surgery. Billy has no memory of the vet- I usually don't take him with me. So, it was an interesting experience for him. I explained that Buddy was old enough to go to his appointment on his own, but that we had to drive him since puppies can't drive. Billy felt this was reasonable enough. He complained "Buddy, come back!" a little in the car after we left, but when I explained we would pick him up later he gave up and started jabbering on about the cow jumping over the moon. Moooooooooon!
Next up, field trip!
Yup, Billy's fall field trip was today. We went to a farm to pick pumpkins. It was a cute little farm, although there wasn't too much there to do and to be honest there are better farms around for fall festivities. But Billy liked it well enough. Grandpop joined us for some fall fun.
Unlike most places, here you actually get to choose your pumpkin on the vine and they cut it off for you and you get to walk away with a freshly picked pumpkin.
After he chose it all by himself he refused to put it down. It was HIS pumpkin.
After the pumpkin picking we went for a hay ride and played in some giant tractor tires. There was also a barnyard, but after the State Fair that part was boring and old hat. He saw the animals and looked at me and asked, "Mommy, horsey ride now?" (As in, ok, where's the merry-go-round that was at the fair). I believe we will need to make a visit to the Columbia Mall to see the merry-go-round and some friends!
Then it was lunchtime. It was freezing out, so I bought a warm apple cider for us to share. I brought a bagged lunch for us to share as well. With the cider he kept taking a sip and then screwing up his face. Finally I said, "if you don't like it, give it to Mommy and you can have your water." Nope. He still wanted it. I think it was just getting past drinking juice warm. (It wasn't hot- I tested it). He's had cider recently and liked it, but it was cold.
After lunch he chased his girlfriend around the farm. They walked on top of hay bales and crawled through tunnels. She had a parent's hand the whole time. Billy? Nope. He's good. Walked on top of hay bales with no issue. Even jumped off of them with no issue. And when he fell only once? He whimpered but didn't cry. He fell into loose hay, so it was only his feelings that were hurt.
Then it was back to school.
After school we went to pick up Buddy from the vet. Buddy came out with a cone on his head. Billy said, "Buddy silly!" Then he continued without prompting, "Buddy have big booboo." I didn't tell him that. He just understood. He also helped me with Buddy's medications (Buddy med-sin). "No touch Buddy," he warned. But, when I said ti was okay, he gave over and gave his Buddy a big pat on the rump.
Buddy is one sick puppy. We're still awaiting the results. He had to have a suspicious tumor removed, but all signs point to malignant. I'm hoping for the best, and hoping they got it all. He also has a terrible infection in his mouth, but luckily gets to keep his teeth for now. We thought he might loose one or more, but so far so good. However, he is Mr. GrumpyPaws and I can't blame him. Could you imagine having a massive infection in your mouth and then having a tumor removed from your boy parts? Yeah, that would make anyone a grumpypaws.
Billy was very good with Buddy at home. Buddy just wanted to sleep. In the middle of toddler chaos. But Billy left him alone. So, sleep he did.
Then Daddy came home.
"Billy, what did you do today?" Daddy asked.
For the first time ever Billy responded without prompting. "Hay ride. Big tractor."
I did have to prompt a little about the pumpkin. "Were there pumpkins?"
"I pick pumpkin. Little pumpkin. Orange."
~
UPDATE:
Awhile back I posted about a mom missing her two children that had been kidnapped. I am happy to report that two days ago her kids were found and after almost two years apart are now home with their mom.Tips via spreading the word on the internet helped find her kids. I'm so glad her babies are home with her.
Next up, field trip!
Yup, Billy's fall field trip was today. We went to a farm to pick pumpkins. It was a cute little farm, although there wasn't too much there to do and to be honest there are better farms around for fall festivities. But Billy liked it well enough. Grandpop joined us for some fall fun.
Unlike most places, here you actually get to choose your pumpkin on the vine and they cut it off for you and you get to walk away with a freshly picked pumpkin.
After he chose it all by himself he refused to put it down. It was HIS pumpkin.
After the pumpkin picking we went for a hay ride and played in some giant tractor tires. There was also a barnyard, but after the State Fair that part was boring and old hat. He saw the animals and looked at me and asked, "Mommy, horsey ride now?" (As in, ok, where's the merry-go-round that was at the fair). I believe we will need to make a visit to the Columbia Mall to see the merry-go-round and some friends!
Then it was lunchtime. It was freezing out, so I bought a warm apple cider for us to share. I brought a bagged lunch for us to share as well. With the cider he kept taking a sip and then screwing up his face. Finally I said, "if you don't like it, give it to Mommy and you can have your water." Nope. He still wanted it. I think it was just getting past drinking juice warm. (It wasn't hot- I tested it). He's had cider recently and liked it, but it was cold.
After lunch he chased his girlfriend around the farm. They walked on top of hay bales and crawled through tunnels. She had a parent's hand the whole time. Billy? Nope. He's good. Walked on top of hay bales with no issue. Even jumped off of them with no issue. And when he fell only once? He whimpered but didn't cry. He fell into loose hay, so it was only his feelings that were hurt.
Then it was back to school.
After school we went to pick up Buddy from the vet. Buddy came out with a cone on his head. Billy said, "Buddy silly!" Then he continued without prompting, "Buddy have big booboo." I didn't tell him that. He just understood. He also helped me with Buddy's medications (Buddy med-sin). "No touch Buddy," he warned. But, when I said ti was okay, he gave over and gave his Buddy a big pat on the rump.
Buddy is one sick puppy. We're still awaiting the results. He had to have a suspicious tumor removed, but all signs point to malignant. I'm hoping for the best, and hoping they got it all. He also has a terrible infection in his mouth, but luckily gets to keep his teeth for now. We thought he might loose one or more, but so far so good. However, he is Mr. GrumpyPaws and I can't blame him. Could you imagine having a massive infection in your mouth and then having a tumor removed from your boy parts? Yeah, that would make anyone a grumpypaws.
Billy was very good with Buddy at home. Buddy just wanted to sleep. In the middle of toddler chaos. But Billy left him alone. So, sleep he did.
Then Daddy came home.
"Billy, what did you do today?" Daddy asked.
For the first time ever Billy responded without prompting. "Hay ride. Big tractor."
I did have to prompt a little about the pumpkin. "Were there pumpkins?"
"I pick pumpkin. Little pumpkin. Orange."
~
UPDATE:
Awhile back I posted about a mom missing her two children that had been kidnapped. I am happy to report that two days ago her kids were found and after almost two years apart are now home with their mom.Tips via spreading the word on the internet helped find her kids. I'm so glad her babies are home with her.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
October 8, 2012 ~ Don't Eat That!
Billy decided to make a list of things you can't eat and recite them to me last night.
Here's the list of things you cannot eat:
"Mommy, no eat...
pumpkins (uncooked and painted pumpkin)
plate (that your dinner is sitting on)
Buddy
hammer
tractor
rocks
monkey
wall."
In case you were unsure, don't eat these things.
Here's the list of things you cannot eat:
"Mommy, no eat...
pumpkins (uncooked and painted pumpkin)
plate (that your dinner is sitting on)
Buddy
hammer
tractor
rocks
monkey
wall."
In case you were unsure, don't eat these things.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Happy Blog-iversary!
That's right.
My blog turned one today. This time last year I had the idea to write every day about what Billy does and to have you- the reader- hold me accountable to write every day.
So, have some cake and let's celebrate!
My blog turned one today. This time last year I had the idea to write every day about what Billy does and to have you- the reader- hold me accountable to write every day.
So, have some cake and let's celebrate!
October 7, 2012 ~ Big Fall Camping Trip
So how do you cap off two weeks of parties followed by a crazy shoot week? You go camping!
Billy and I didn't make it for the first day of camping because I was just too tired to drive up to the camp site after working mostly a full day and not sleeping since Saturday. You know, just a little tired.
So, for Day 2 of the trip (or Day 1 for us) we joined the crew for some history at Gettysburg, PA. We walked the battlefields, climbed the observation tower (not the old one0 this is a smaller walk-up one) and checked out some monuments.
Here is Billy inside one of the monuments:
This particular monument to a NY battalion has spiral stairs that go up to look around. It's sort of fort like, but I told Billy it was a castle. From the top it looks like one anyway. It even has a tower. He was SO excited to actually be in a castle.
We didn't try to impart any history lessons on him though. He's only just 2. We'll have to come back and explain the Battle of Gettysburg some other time when he's older. Maybe next year for the 150th anniversary. Still too young?
Well, the history lesson was over so we headed off to the campsite for food and hanging out. Billy decided to go No-Nap. It's a lot like going "No Huddle" only, we get to be the opposing defense that gets run over.
So, we gave up and broke out the toys. Billy mowed. Yup. He mowed the forest.
(This picture is actually from the next day, but well- he did a lot of mowing of the forest. What can I say?)
Well, Friday night after unpacking and having a delicious dinner prepared by another camper in our group it was time to send Billy off to bed.
Uh oh! Here I tout the love of the Go Crib and it's no where in site. Yup. It's been forgotten. Oh crap. Well, um... now what? Thank God I'm an over-packer. I put as many blankets in my car as I could cram in there and still see out the back. So, I built Billy his own little cushy bed next to my sleeping bag. He had his own pillow, his lovies, his sock monkey and lots of blankets to cuddle under. He went to sleep without too much of a hitch. That was fabulous. Much unlike summer camping when bedtime is still bright light and incredibly warm. Nope. Fell asleep without too much of an issue.
Being the concerned Mom I woke up several times in the night to check on him. And I'm glad that I did. Some time in the middle of the night I noticed he was freezing. Even with a pile of heavy blankets on him.
( I recently watched a film called Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. It follows two Chinese families. In the movie war drives them up into the snowy hills for safety. On the first night sleeping in the snow, the youngest boy, even covered by heavy skins, dies in the cold. So, that whole concept about kids in the cold is on my brain. I'm neurotic, what can I say?)
Well, I'm not going to let my little man shiver in the cold. So, I pulled him into my sleeping bag with me and held him to warm him. That was a fabulous plan and he warmed up quickly enough. But once he was warm he woke up and wanted to play. Let's play poke Mommy in the eyes. Let's play pat-a-cake on Mommy's face. Let's attack cuddle Daddy. Let's spill and entire bottle of water inside the tent. He was up from around 4 until he passed out again around 7 or 8 and slept for awhile.
Day 3 started with rigging up shelter from the expected rain. It was drizzly and cold in the morning, so it seemed like the right thing to do. Billy was not happy about Mommy climbing up on things and about me not paying attention to him. But, I'm the one with the sailing knot knowledge, so I went to work tying up the tarp to protect the picnic tables from impending doom... I mean rain.
We hung out in camp all morning, mowing the grass of the forest and playing around. We went No-Nap again. I think Mommy was more of a cranky pants about this than Billy. I still made him take quiet time in the tent. We watched his little face appear and disappear from the window in the tent. I checked on him every now and again and put him back to bed.
On that last push to get him to sleep before naptime would be over it was Daddy's turn to watch him. Daddy decided to ignore him and figured he was fine and wasn't going to sleep anyway. Should have known something was up. When I went to fetch him after the time that he should have been sleeping was over, I found a tornado in the tent. Billy had gone through my suitcase and pulled everything out. He tossed his diapers all over the tent. He tossed my feminine products all over the tent- the whole box. He found my floss and pulled all of it out of the box. He got out my toiletries and was playing with them everywhere. And when I opened the tent he had a bottle of shampoo in hand and was shaking it trying to get the "soap" out. Thank God that he didn't manage to open the shampoo bottle.
It was time to burn off some energy so we went for a hike on the historic Civil War Trails in the area and the trails around the campground.
Don't be fooled by this photo. Daddy in t-shirt and Billy in winter garb. It was cold. Daddy's viking-ness is showing. In the background are the falls.
Onward to dinner. We left Daddy in charge of dinner and went for a stroller ride with one of Billy's favorite people.
Yes, it was very cold.
When it got dark this same favorite people broke out a glow stick ball to play with. And Mommy had brought glow stick bracelets for Billy and the ladies. We tossed the glow ball around and had Billy in giggles. He thought that was too cool. The glow ball was a big hit.
But No Nap Billy was exhausted and after play and dinner he asked for bed. So I cuddled him up in my sleeping bag and tucked him in with lots of blankets. He wouldn't sleep in his hat, but he did go to sleep with his coat and gloves on. I wasn't kidding around with how cold and damp it was. I put him right into my own sub-zero bag and skipped his little makeshift bed all together. He went out like a light.
After I went to bed I held him all night long and kept him warm. He was still cold, even in my bag- but it's a big bag for a little guy. He kept crawling out and getting really cold. He's used to being squirmy in his crib, but you can't stay warm in the cold outdoors that way.
Morning came and it was time to leave. We packed up and headed up the road, all of us stopping for lunch before making the final journey home.
Before we were even out of town Billy was asleep in the car. Although, he ended up crying half the way home. When we did finally get home he cuddled into his nice warm crib and took a long nap.
He had a great time. But I think warmer weather is in order for the next trip!
Billy and I didn't make it for the first day of camping because I was just too tired to drive up to the camp site after working mostly a full day and not sleeping since Saturday. You know, just a little tired.
So, for Day 2 of the trip (or Day 1 for us) we joined the crew for some history at Gettysburg, PA. We walked the battlefields, climbed the observation tower (not the old one0 this is a smaller walk-up one) and checked out some monuments.
Here is Billy inside one of the monuments:
This particular monument to a NY battalion has spiral stairs that go up to look around. It's sort of fort like, but I told Billy it was a castle. From the top it looks like one anyway. It even has a tower. He was SO excited to actually be in a castle.
We didn't try to impart any history lessons on him though. He's only just 2. We'll have to come back and explain the Battle of Gettysburg some other time when he's older. Maybe next year for the 150th anniversary. Still too young?
Well, the history lesson was over so we headed off to the campsite for food and hanging out. Billy decided to go No-Nap. It's a lot like going "No Huddle" only, we get to be the opposing defense that gets run over.
So, we gave up and broke out the toys. Billy mowed. Yup. He mowed the forest.
(This picture is actually from the next day, but well- he did a lot of mowing of the forest. What can I say?)
Well, Friday night after unpacking and having a delicious dinner prepared by another camper in our group it was time to send Billy off to bed.
Uh oh! Here I tout the love of the Go Crib and it's no where in site. Yup. It's been forgotten. Oh crap. Well, um... now what? Thank God I'm an over-packer. I put as many blankets in my car as I could cram in there and still see out the back. So, I built Billy his own little cushy bed next to my sleeping bag. He had his own pillow, his lovies, his sock monkey and lots of blankets to cuddle under. He went to sleep without too much of a hitch. That was fabulous. Much unlike summer camping when bedtime is still bright light and incredibly warm. Nope. Fell asleep without too much of an issue.
Being the concerned Mom I woke up several times in the night to check on him. And I'm glad that I did. Some time in the middle of the night I noticed he was freezing. Even with a pile of heavy blankets on him.
( I recently watched a film called Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. It follows two Chinese families. In the movie war drives them up into the snowy hills for safety. On the first night sleeping in the snow, the youngest boy, even covered by heavy skins, dies in the cold. So, that whole concept about kids in the cold is on my brain. I'm neurotic, what can I say?)
Well, I'm not going to let my little man shiver in the cold. So, I pulled him into my sleeping bag with me and held him to warm him. That was a fabulous plan and he warmed up quickly enough. But once he was warm he woke up and wanted to play. Let's play poke Mommy in the eyes. Let's play pat-a-cake on Mommy's face. Let's attack cuddle Daddy. Let's spill and entire bottle of water inside the tent. He was up from around 4 until he passed out again around 7 or 8 and slept for awhile.
Day 3 started with rigging up shelter from the expected rain. It was drizzly and cold in the morning, so it seemed like the right thing to do. Billy was not happy about Mommy climbing up on things and about me not paying attention to him. But, I'm the one with the sailing knot knowledge, so I went to work tying up the tarp to protect the picnic tables from impending doom... I mean rain.
We hung out in camp all morning, mowing the grass of the forest and playing around. We went No-Nap again. I think Mommy was more of a cranky pants about this than Billy. I still made him take quiet time in the tent. We watched his little face appear and disappear from the window in the tent. I checked on him every now and again and put him back to bed.
On that last push to get him to sleep before naptime would be over it was Daddy's turn to watch him. Daddy decided to ignore him and figured he was fine and wasn't going to sleep anyway. Should have known something was up. When I went to fetch him after the time that he should have been sleeping was over, I found a tornado in the tent. Billy had gone through my suitcase and pulled everything out. He tossed his diapers all over the tent. He tossed my feminine products all over the tent- the whole box. He found my floss and pulled all of it out of the box. He got out my toiletries and was playing with them everywhere. And when I opened the tent he had a bottle of shampoo in hand and was shaking it trying to get the "soap" out. Thank God that he didn't manage to open the shampoo bottle.
It was time to burn off some energy so we went for a hike on the historic Civil War Trails in the area and the trails around the campground.
Don't be fooled by this photo. Daddy in t-shirt and Billy in winter garb. It was cold. Daddy's viking-ness is showing. In the background are the falls.
Onward to dinner. We left Daddy in charge of dinner and went for a stroller ride with one of Billy's favorite people.
Yes, it was very cold.
When it got dark this same favorite people broke out a glow stick ball to play with. And Mommy had brought glow stick bracelets for Billy and the ladies. We tossed the glow ball around and had Billy in giggles. He thought that was too cool. The glow ball was a big hit.
But No Nap Billy was exhausted and after play and dinner he asked for bed. So I cuddled him up in my sleeping bag and tucked him in with lots of blankets. He wouldn't sleep in his hat, but he did go to sleep with his coat and gloves on. I wasn't kidding around with how cold and damp it was. I put him right into my own sub-zero bag and skipped his little makeshift bed all together. He went out like a light.
After I went to bed I held him all night long and kept him warm. He was still cold, even in my bag- but it's a big bag for a little guy. He kept crawling out and getting really cold. He's used to being squirmy in his crib, but you can't stay warm in the cold outdoors that way.
Morning came and it was time to leave. We packed up and headed up the road, all of us stopping for lunch before making the final journey home.
Before we were even out of town Billy was asleep in the car. Although, he ended up crying half the way home. When we did finally get home he cuddled into his nice warm crib and took a long nap.
He had a great time. But I think warmer weather is in order for the next trip!
Thursday, October 4, 2012
And... I'm Tired
I'm exhausted. I've worked a full week in only 3 days, plus take care of a toddler. And my blog has suffered. So, I apologize for missing posts and being unable to check in.
So, I'm going to go on break until Sunday and recharge my batteries. Tune in Sunday night for a big ole post.
Until then, folks...
Go Ravens and ...Go Orioles?!!
So, I'm going to go on break until Sunday and recharge my batteries. Tune in Sunday night for a big ole post.
Until then, folks...
Go Ravens and ...Go Orioles?!!
It's Official
Billy has asthma. Are we shocked? No.
He now has a daily treatment plus a rescue inhaler. But don't think that's going to stop him. He's as busy as ever and has more energy than my non-asthmatic self.
Otherwise, he has a clean bill of health and has been pronounced "tall and skinny." It's in the genes.
So, there we go. Onward and upward.
He now has a daily treatment plus a rescue inhaler. But don't think that's going to stop him. He's as busy as ever and has more energy than my non-asthmatic self.
Otherwise, he has a clean bill of health and has been pronounced "tall and skinny." It's in the genes.
So, there we go. Onward and upward.
Weekend Highlights
Two things from this weekend:
1. Billy peed in the potty. Yup. He's a big boy. He said he needed to potty. Then he sat there for ten minutes until it finally worked. AND he managed to successfully use the potty BEFORE he turned two. Woohoo!
2. We were watching Ratatouille. He kept calling the main character Mickey Mouse. The main character is Remmy, a rat. I was trying to explain to him that Remmy wasn't Mickey. But that they are similar. And since they are both Disney characters, I suggested that they were cousins. Close enough. "Oh, ok. Cousins," he says. Then he pauses and says, "T is my cousin." SO cute. (T isn't a cousin, just a good friend.)
1. Billy peed in the potty. Yup. He's a big boy. He said he needed to potty. Then he sat there for ten minutes until it finally worked. AND he managed to successfully use the potty BEFORE he turned two. Woohoo!
2. We were watching Ratatouille. He kept calling the main character Mickey Mouse. The main character is Remmy, a rat. I was trying to explain to him that Remmy wasn't Mickey. But that they are similar. And since they are both Disney characters, I suggested that they were cousins. Close enough. "Oh, ok. Cousins," he says. Then he pauses and says, "T is my cousin." SO cute. (T isn't a cousin, just a good friend.)
Monday, October 1, 2012
Billy Turns Two
No posts since Friday? I post every day. What happened?
Well, let's start with Friday, and I'm sorry but I'm going to have to rush this post, but I have to go back in to work tonight. Anyways, I'm good with production schedules. So, when planning a party I have a production schedule. It means I don't have to rush too much. Although, I always seem to end up leaving things to last minute, mostly because life gets in the way.
Well, there was a list of items that needed doing for Saturday and Sunday morning before the big party. It wasn't too much. And i had it broken into things Daddy needed to do, plus my own (much longer) list.
Daddy on Friday night decided to go climbing at the climbing gym. And then he promptly fell off the bouldering wall. He claims the top of the wall is only 12 feet up, but Daddy is prone to underexaggeration, so I suspect he might have been higher up. Anyways, he busted up his ankle and came in late Friday with a grapefruit for a foot begging for ice and medicine. That meant a trip to the store in my jammies. So out into the rain I went to fetch drugs and Ace bandages. We had ice.
Saturday Daddy was in pretty bad shape. He spent most of the day with his foot propped up and well medicated. That meant that I needed to do all of Daddy's chores to get ready for the party, plus my own, plus take care of Billy (except during nap when I had to run out) and take care of Daddy. Uh oh. That's a lot of work. I got up at dawn and went to bed at midnight, taking no break and powering through.
Sunday morning I was back up at dawn cleaning, making deviled eggs and trying to be ready for everything. Daddy must have felt bad, so he ran my two quick errands I had to do so I could do stuff around the house, of course with little man under foot.
Then, last night after everyone had left the party (yes, I'll get to the party- read on) Billy started having breathing trouble. This escalated into bad breathing trouble, puking, crying and being up all night. So, he was the priority- not the blog. His breathing still isn't right, but we see the doctor tomorrow. I suspect we'll be heading off to the hospital in the morning. Ugh, another trip.
So here I am exhausted, sleep-deprived and ready to collapse and have to head into work for a late night. It's shoot week. There's no rest for the weary. So, I apologize if the blog suffers, but I will try to post each night, especially on break from shooting.
On to the birthday boy...
He got up and the house was already decorated for the party. He wanted to "have it" and "touch it" all of the decorations. There might have been a few meltdowns about not ripping up the decorations before the party. Maybe just a few.
He tried on the birthday hat and checked out the presents.
He had a grand time helping me clean (he loves to clean) and trying to steal chips from the table. He was all excited about balloons and cake, not that he'd seen them yet. Then it was off to nap. He didn't want to nap- he wanted to party. I can't blame him. But finally I got him to go to sleep. And I had to wake him up so he wouldn't miss his own party.
The guests arrived and the party was on! Billy wanted to be held most of the time and he was very unsure by all of his favorite people in the world all being in the same room at the same time. It was very overwhelming.
But then there was cake. Wedding cake (Aunt S I'll save you a piece). Mommy and Daddy's wedding cake- baked fresh of course. Nothing but the best for lil man. He had a big ole piece and a big ole sugar rush to go with it.
Then it was on to opening presents. He owned one and wanted to go play with it. But it was in a box. "Can I have it?" he asked. Sure (but not right now). That's a hard thing to open presents and then have to put them aside to open more. That's tough on a small person. Well, anyway, I made Billy move on to the next one but Daddy wanted to play with it. That started Billy with a near meltdown (but he didn't do it!) because Daddy got to play with it but not Billy. Daddy finally put it away and we moved on. With each gift he quietly asked me, "Have it?" (He's asking if he can have it). And, since he had lots of friends about, he shared with his friends so they wouldn't feel left out.
Billy loves all of his gifts and he thanks everyone so much for everything. He will personally thank each of you later, but for now a big thanks from Billy!
After presents we headed outside for the pinata (I know it's an enya, but I don't have that glyph on my keyboard). Anyways, we went without a blindfold since everyone was so young. It was a pirate ship pinata. Which, I actually didn't get a picture of. I wasn't in camera mode yesterday- too busy. The kids all took turns whacking at the pirate ship, but it didn't want to break. So Daddy ripped it open and threw candy everywhere for the kids to pick up. The two youngest kids (Billy being one of them) weren't quite sure about picking up candy off the ground, but it all worked out in the end. Billy immediately ate a lollipop and loved it. Then he wanted another. And another. Sugar, sugar, sugar.
But, since there was a break in the rain and the party was coming to an end, everyone headed out. We were so glad everyone could be there for his special day. We missed some important people who couldn't make it, but we'll see them soon, I'm sure.
So, it's official. Billy is two.
Friday, September 28, 2012
September 27, 2012 ~ Daddy Mow
After dinner (and apple pie!) Billy wanted to watch Daddy mow. Most importantly, he instructed Daddy TO mow. Well, the grass needed it.
So, we went out onto the porch at dusk to watch Daddy mow the back yard. Billy sat in his own seat to watch. Then he started with the commentary.
"Daddy mow [by] garden."
"Uh, oh Daddy. No tree."
"Daddy mow under swing."
"Daddy, fast!"
Okay, he doesn't know sports yet, and his verbal skills are only so-so, but in my head I heard him play-calling Daddy mowing.
"And around the bend, he's coming down the home stretch! Whoops! He's gotten the mower stuck on the tree root, but wow! Look at the maneuvering. And now he's off and back in the game. Just a few more yards. He's going, he's going and it's DONE!"
Well, that's what it sounded like in toddler-speak anyway.
So, we went out onto the porch at dusk to watch Daddy mow the back yard. Billy sat in his own seat to watch. Then he started with the commentary.
"Daddy mow [by] garden."
"Uh, oh Daddy. No tree."
"Daddy mow under swing."
"Daddy, fast!"
Okay, he doesn't know sports yet, and his verbal skills are only so-so, but in my head I heard him play-calling Daddy mowing.
"And around the bend, he's coming down the home stretch! Whoops! He's gotten the mower stuck on the tree root, but wow! Look at the maneuvering. And now he's off and back in the game. Just a few more yards. He's going, he's going and it's DONE!"
Well, that's what it sounded like in toddler-speak anyway.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
September 25, 2012 ~ What do you want for your birthday?
There's some big event coming up at the end of the week. What could that be?
I've been trying to explain to Billy about his birthday. It's not an easy concept to explain. It's not a color. It doesn't make a noise. You can't see it or hear it or touch it. It's not a food. How do you explain a birthday?
Well, he knows the numbers one and two. So I started there. Today you're one. This weekend you will be two. Blank stare.
Okay. For your birthday you get balloons and cake and people bring you presents. It's a big day. Blank stare.
What do you want for your birthday? Quizzical stare.
Do you want cake? "No. No cake."
Do you want a new book? "No. No new book."
Do you want balloons? "Balloons? No. No balloons."
Do you want a new toy? "No, no toy."
Well, what do you want?
He thinks a moment and then shouts, "apple pie!"
I've been trying to explain to Billy about his birthday. It's not an easy concept to explain. It's not a color. It doesn't make a noise. You can't see it or hear it or touch it. It's not a food. How do you explain a birthday?
Well, he knows the numbers one and two. So I started there. Today you're one. This weekend you will be two. Blank stare.
Okay. For your birthday you get balloons and cake and people bring you presents. It's a big day. Blank stare.
What do you want for your birthday? Quizzical stare.
Do you want cake? "No. No cake."
Do you want a new book? "No. No new book."
Do you want balloons? "Balloons? No. No balloons."
Do you want a new toy? "No, no toy."
Well, what do you want?
He thinks a moment and then shouts, "apple pie!"
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
September 24, 2012 ~ Big Boy Shopper
Billy declares he is a big boy.
We walked into Sam's today and first he had to stop and look at pumpkins. By the way, according to Billy they are "ornge". Not orange.
He went and fetched a cart by himself, but wanted to push it instead of getting in. However, first he insisted all of his toys be situated across the child seat in the cart. He had the lady that checks membership cards in hysterics.
Then it was off to get "chicken! Mommy, chicken!" Most of the time when we go we come home with a roasted chicken and he knows where they are.
Heading to the back of the store we passed all of the fall decorations on end caps. He had to stop to tell me how ugly they were. Specifically, "Mommy, no touch. Trash. P-u! Uggy." After letting everyone know a couple of times how he felt about them it was back to pushing the cart as fast as he could.
When we got back to the chickens, none were out of the oven yet, so we shopped in the bakery area. He went after every box of cookies and wanted to add them to the cart. He picked up the raisin bread and chucked it in. Then he saw the cakes. There was nearly a cake-trastrophy in the store.
Then the chickens were ready.
Billy pointed to the one he wanted, but remembered that they are HOT. "Mommy, do it." So, I put the roast chicken in the cart. And boy was it hot. fresh from the oven.
Then it was time to get some cheese. Billy wanted every block of specialty cheese he could find and started loading the cart with them. A Sam's Club employee had to come over and help me redo the display since he was so enthusiastic about buying cheese. We settled on two blocks. Not twenty.
Well, I brought gold fish because Billy cannot go in this store without getting hungry. So the next bit of shopping he sat in the cart for his snack. The gold fish ran out all too quickly and he wanted back out of the cart.
By this time we were down by the toys. He immediately spotted his Eee-Eee (oversized sock money that is bigger than he is). We bought it last week and it's his new favorite thing. Also, his birthday present. He wanted another one, but really... how many oversized sock monkeys do you need?
The point of being down the toy aisle was to pick up another birthday gift for him. His very own Billy-sized camping chair. In blue. He picked it up in its little case by himself and put it on the cart.
Then it was time for a Mommy present. Bulbs! No, not for a lamp. For the garden. Billy wanted to put every pack of bulbs on the bottom of the cart. We settled on two.
Then it was off to check out. He help get everything of the bottom of the cart and hand it to me so I could put it up for the register. He was my "big" little helper.
When we got home he wanted cheese and his chair. I'm not shocked at all.
We walked into Sam's today and first he had to stop and look at pumpkins. By the way, according to Billy they are "ornge". Not orange.
He went and fetched a cart by himself, but wanted to push it instead of getting in. However, first he insisted all of his toys be situated across the child seat in the cart. He had the lady that checks membership cards in hysterics.
Then it was off to get "chicken! Mommy, chicken!" Most of the time when we go we come home with a roasted chicken and he knows where they are.
Heading to the back of the store we passed all of the fall decorations on end caps. He had to stop to tell me how ugly they were. Specifically, "Mommy, no touch. Trash. P-u! Uggy." After letting everyone know a couple of times how he felt about them it was back to pushing the cart as fast as he could.
When we got back to the chickens, none were out of the oven yet, so we shopped in the bakery area. He went after every box of cookies and wanted to add them to the cart. He picked up the raisin bread and chucked it in. Then he saw the cakes. There was nearly a cake-trastrophy in the store.
Then the chickens were ready.
Billy pointed to the one he wanted, but remembered that they are HOT. "Mommy, do it." So, I put the roast chicken in the cart. And boy was it hot. fresh from the oven.
Then it was time to get some cheese. Billy wanted every block of specialty cheese he could find and started loading the cart with them. A Sam's Club employee had to come over and help me redo the display since he was so enthusiastic about buying cheese. We settled on two blocks. Not twenty.
Well, I brought gold fish because Billy cannot go in this store without getting hungry. So the next bit of shopping he sat in the cart for his snack. The gold fish ran out all too quickly and he wanted back out of the cart.
By this time we were down by the toys. He immediately spotted his Eee-Eee (oversized sock money that is bigger than he is). We bought it last week and it's his new favorite thing. Also, his birthday present. He wanted another one, but really... how many oversized sock monkeys do you need?
The point of being down the toy aisle was to pick up another birthday gift for him. His very own Billy-sized camping chair. In blue. He picked it up in its little case by himself and put it on the cart.
Then it was time for a Mommy present. Bulbs! No, not for a lamp. For the garden. Billy wanted to put every pack of bulbs on the bottom of the cart. We settled on two.
Then it was off to check out. He help get everything of the bottom of the cart and hand it to me so I could put it up for the register. He was my "big" little helper.
When we got home he wanted cheese and his chair. I'm not shocked at all.
Monday, September 24, 2012
September 23, 2012 ~ Oh, Crap!
There was a big party this weekend and Billy slept in the same room with us for it. He had a great time.
But the morning after the party I woke up to hear him whining weakly. It wasn't worth asking Daddy to go deal even though it was Daddy's morning. (We take turns sleeping in). But Daddy had a different party Friday night as well, and after two nights of revelry was dead to the world. So, I cracked an eye open.
Billy was standing in his Go Crib as far into the corner he could go and whining pathetically.
"What's the matter?" I asked. It was a rough morning. I wanted to go back to sleep (fat chance).
"Poop," he cried.
"Go back to sleep, there's no poop." Well, I wasn't actually over there looking or smelling, but he no longer poops at night.
"Poop."
So, I propped up on an elbow to see him better. He was backed into that corner as far as he would go. He saw me looking at him and pointed into the crib, "poop!"
Oh, crap.
I got up to check. Poop.
Mad dash to the kitchen for plastic bags and back to the room again to deal with the mess. Poor guy. He'd had a back end blowout. Fortunately, his jammy pants took the brunt of the blow, but the crib didn't escape unharmed, and the same for his blankets.
He was not a happy camper.
We got all cleaned up and then went outside to watch Swim Across America.
"Under water!" he shouted at them. Yes, they were swimming with their heads down.
He was also thrilled with our cousin's sailboat in all its glory with dress flags flying. He was sure they were kites. I couldn't convince him they were flags.
And so, we had a big weekend and one tuckered little "pooped out" man.
But the morning after the party I woke up to hear him whining weakly. It wasn't worth asking Daddy to go deal even though it was Daddy's morning. (We take turns sleeping in). But Daddy had a different party Friday night as well, and after two nights of revelry was dead to the world. So, I cracked an eye open.
Billy was standing in his Go Crib as far into the corner he could go and whining pathetically.
"What's the matter?" I asked. It was a rough morning. I wanted to go back to sleep (fat chance).
"Poop," he cried.
"Go back to sleep, there's no poop." Well, I wasn't actually over there looking or smelling, but he no longer poops at night.
"Poop."
So, I propped up on an elbow to see him better. He was backed into that corner as far as he would go. He saw me looking at him and pointed into the crib, "poop!"
Oh, crap.
I got up to check. Poop.
Mad dash to the kitchen for plastic bags and back to the room again to deal with the mess. Poor guy. He'd had a back end blowout. Fortunately, his jammy pants took the brunt of the blow, but the crib didn't escape unharmed, and the same for his blankets.
He was not a happy camper.
We got all cleaned up and then went outside to watch Swim Across America.
"Under water!" he shouted at them. Yes, they were swimming with their heads down.
He was also thrilled with our cousin's sailboat in all its glory with dress flags flying. He was sure they were kites. I couldn't convince him they were flags.
And so, we had a big weekend and one tuckered little "pooped out" man.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
The Sunday Post ~ Helicopter State And Boosters
Starting next month, our state is modifying the rules for booster seats for kids from a weigh restriction to an age and height restriction before they can sit in a regular seat in a car.
I'm all for safety. And I understand that shoulder straps are nor made for kids. I remember as a kid the shoulder strap would gag me because I was too small to be sitting with it on. So, I get it.
But I have to wonder at what point the safety issue makes us into helicopter parents and a helicopter state. We watch what they do, what they eat, what they play with. We monitor their every move.
What cost is there to the child? What about the freedom of play? The freedom to learn? The freedom to make mistakes- to fall down and get a scraped knee? These things are part of growing up.
I remember (long ago) us kids piling into the front bench seat of an extra large station wagon and riding down the road. I remember my friends and I hanging out in the back of a different station wagon (not in seats) . I remember a friend's birthday party where six of us piled into a tiny sedan and were standing up out of the moon roof singing. I remember piling 6 deep into the back seat during carpool. Those were fun times and great memories. Okay, granted, not particularly safe.
But no kid today will (legally) have these memories. Each kid has to have a booster seat and are supposed to sit in the back only. This limits a sedan to three kids at best- if you can get all of the booster seats to fit. And that's provided that the kids are carrying their booster seats with them.
No longer can a parent call up and ask another parent to take their kid home in an emergency. Kids visiting their friends can't just hop in a parent's car (with the parent) for a treat like ice cream or a jaunt to the movies. Everything has to be planned. Booster seats have to be provided. Effort has to be made. The spontaneity is gone.
And in the end it's every parent on their own when it comes to driving kids around, now that boosters are required for all kids under 8.
I have to wonder about the safety that was the "village" being traded for the safety of the booster. Which is better? And on a side note- why are we instead regulating cars to be made with built-in standard seats that are safe for kids?
I'm all for safety. And I understand that shoulder straps are nor made for kids. I remember as a kid the shoulder strap would gag me because I was too small to be sitting with it on. So, I get it.
But I have to wonder at what point the safety issue makes us into helicopter parents and a helicopter state. We watch what they do, what they eat, what they play with. We monitor their every move.
What cost is there to the child? What about the freedom of play? The freedom to learn? The freedom to make mistakes- to fall down and get a scraped knee? These things are part of growing up.
I remember (long ago) us kids piling into the front bench seat of an extra large station wagon and riding down the road. I remember my friends and I hanging out in the back of a different station wagon (not in seats) . I remember a friend's birthday party where six of us piled into a tiny sedan and were standing up out of the moon roof singing. I remember piling 6 deep into the back seat during carpool. Those were fun times and great memories. Okay, granted, not particularly safe.
But no kid today will (legally) have these memories. Each kid has to have a booster seat and are supposed to sit in the back only. This limits a sedan to three kids at best- if you can get all of the booster seats to fit. And that's provided that the kids are carrying their booster seats with them.
No longer can a parent call up and ask another parent to take their kid home in an emergency. Kids visiting their friends can't just hop in a parent's car (with the parent) for a treat like ice cream or a jaunt to the movies. Everything has to be planned. Booster seats have to be provided. Effort has to be made. The spontaneity is gone.
And in the end it's every parent on their own when it comes to driving kids around, now that boosters are required for all kids under 8.
I have to wonder about the safety that was the "village" being traded for the safety of the booster. Which is better? And on a side note- why are we instead regulating cars to be made with built-in standard seats that are safe for kids?
Friday, September 21, 2012
September 21, 2012 ~ S'mores!
Our neighborhood had a campfire sing-a-long with s'mores this evening. So, I rushed home and packed Billy off to head over to the common area for the festivities.
He wasn't sure what to make of all of the kids singing along to the wonderful guitarist playing kids songs and singing for us. Honestly, it was a bit overwhelming for him. But, this was specifically for families with kids under five and there were at least a dozen families there, so there were just a ton of little ones. It was a lot to process.
After the singing it was time for s'mores!
Billy knows better than to get near the fire, so "Mommy, do it!" was the mantra. He wanted to help hold the stick, but he didn't want to roast the marshmallow himself.
All of the other kids had stick envy. They had regular old sticks from trees. Billy showed up with a telescoping wiener fork. Well, when you're loaded down with camping gear, you might as well use it. Billy proudly carried around his skewer, making the other parents nervous of the one-year-old wielding a weapon. No worries, he knows what he's doing and I was right there.
So, I cooked him a s'more. He immediately decided to take it apart. He handed me the graham crackers, then proceeded to eat the chocolate. Marshmallow? Not a fan. But wait! He loves marshmallow. Except, this didn't look like the little marshmallows he likes to eat, so it was no good. And it was "messy." He was not a fan. So, I ate the marshmallow.
But no sooner is he finished eating his chocolate that he wants Mommy to make another s'more for him. So I do. And I hand it to him. Then he attempts to go into meltdown mode because he wants the melty chocolate to be unmelted and separated from the marshmallow and graham. Walking over to fetch a new chocolate piece is, of course, unacceptable.
But he realized all of the kids were watching him and decided not to meltdown. I fetched more chocolate and he was good. Then he clung to me the rest of the party, scared to play with the kids.
Just as it was getting dark and everyone was leaving, he then decided he had gotten up the courage to go play. But by then it was too late. Alas, some other time.
He wasn't sure what to make of all of the kids singing along to the wonderful guitarist playing kids songs and singing for us. Honestly, it was a bit overwhelming for him. But, this was specifically for families with kids under five and there were at least a dozen families there, so there were just a ton of little ones. It was a lot to process.
After the singing it was time for s'mores!
Billy knows better than to get near the fire, so "Mommy, do it!" was the mantra. He wanted to help hold the stick, but he didn't want to roast the marshmallow himself.
All of the other kids had stick envy. They had regular old sticks from trees. Billy showed up with a telescoping wiener fork. Well, when you're loaded down with camping gear, you might as well use it. Billy proudly carried around his skewer, making the other parents nervous of the one-year-old wielding a weapon. No worries, he knows what he's doing and I was right there.
So, I cooked him a s'more. He immediately decided to take it apart. He handed me the graham crackers, then proceeded to eat the chocolate. Marshmallow? Not a fan. But wait! He loves marshmallow. Except, this didn't look like the little marshmallows he likes to eat, so it was no good. And it was "messy." He was not a fan. So, I ate the marshmallow.
But no sooner is he finished eating his chocolate that he wants Mommy to make another s'more for him. So I do. And I hand it to him. Then he attempts to go into meltdown mode because he wants the melty chocolate to be unmelted and separated from the marshmallow and graham. Walking over to fetch a new chocolate piece is, of course, unacceptable.
But he realized all of the kids were watching him and decided not to meltdown. I fetched more chocolate and he was good. Then he clung to me the rest of the party, scared to play with the kids.
Just as it was getting dark and everyone was leaving, he then decided he had gotten up the courage to go play. But by then it was too late. Alas, some other time.
September 20, 2012 ~ Figs
Today I want to talk about my figs. No worries, you're not missing anything Billy related from today. We spent the whole day in the store and he spilled chocolate milk all over me which was awe.some. (not.)
This is my fig tree.
It's at Grandma's. Not my house. (boohoo), but that's what happens when you move. And this tree started out at another house. My grandparents' house.
My Grandmother's gardener put in some heirloom figs. They grew tall, they grew strong, they produced lots of figs. These are cane figs, much like bamboo and not like a tree so much.
When we moved from their old house eight years ago I took fifteen cuttings. I bought a book on propagation and began to propagate my own figs. Over the course of the first six months, I lost twelve of those cuttings. Over the course of another six months, I lost two more. That left only one sickly little cutting struggling for life.
I nurtured that baby tree. When it was strong enough I moved it out of the house and onto the deck for the summer (at two years old). It immediately became infested with aphids. Aphids kill fruit trees. Every day I cleaned every single leaf off, removing the offending bugs and their eggs. It was a battle of wills that lasted over four months. I won.
When the tree became too big for its pot, I moved it into the garden next to the shed for protection. It was happy and warm there, but not very big.
Look at it now! This tree is now eight years old. Can you see the shed? Nope. The tree is too big. And, after eight long years, I finally have my first crop.
These are all gone and I've already collected another bowl of ripe figs and there's so many more on the tree.
You probably can't see them in the photo, but the unripe figs are there and still growing. I'm hoping for a bumper crop.
Here's Billy looking at the fig. He helped me pick those first few figs by holding the bowl for me. It's a very important job. Then he got to help me with the second most important job when it comes to growing figs- eating them. He loves fresh figs. And I'm glad I can grow them for him.
Okay, well enough of that. But, eight years of work has finally come to fruition. Back to your regualrly scheduled posts...
This is my fig tree.
It's at Grandma's. Not my house. (boohoo), but that's what happens when you move. And this tree started out at another house. My grandparents' house.
My Grandmother's gardener put in some heirloom figs. They grew tall, they grew strong, they produced lots of figs. These are cane figs, much like bamboo and not like a tree so much.
When we moved from their old house eight years ago I took fifteen cuttings. I bought a book on propagation and began to propagate my own figs. Over the course of the first six months, I lost twelve of those cuttings. Over the course of another six months, I lost two more. That left only one sickly little cutting struggling for life.
I nurtured that baby tree. When it was strong enough I moved it out of the house and onto the deck for the summer (at two years old). It immediately became infested with aphids. Aphids kill fruit trees. Every day I cleaned every single leaf off, removing the offending bugs and their eggs. It was a battle of wills that lasted over four months. I won.
When the tree became too big for its pot, I moved it into the garden next to the shed for protection. It was happy and warm there, but not very big.
Look at it now! This tree is now eight years old. Can you see the shed? Nope. The tree is too big. And, after eight long years, I finally have my first crop.
These are all gone and I've already collected another bowl of ripe figs and there's so many more on the tree.
You probably can't see them in the photo, but the unripe figs are there and still growing. I'm hoping for a bumper crop.
Here's Billy looking at the fig. He helped me pick those first few figs by holding the bowl for me. It's a very important job. Then he got to help me with the second most important job when it comes to growing figs- eating them. He loves fresh figs. And I'm glad I can grow them for him.
Okay, well enough of that. But, eight years of work has finally come to fruition. Back to your regualrly scheduled posts...
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
September 18, 2012 ~ A Lesson in Gravity
We have one of those "self-closing" baby gates. I hate it. It won't stay open. And, seeing as Billy is not always awake, not always home, and not always in that room, I'd like to leave it open at times.
But it's self-closing. And locking.
So, we have a brass door stop in the shape of a kitty cat. It was Grandma's. She didn't need it. It was in her way. Now it holds open the baby gate. Yay!
Well, we've been working on leaving the gate open. Billy is pretty good on the steps. Not perfect. But pretty good. So, I'm trying to get him used to the gates not being there. They're like security blanket for him, though.
So, when I leave the gate open at the bottom of the steps, he gets upset and insists that we close the gate. He likes to take this task upon himself. And for good reason.
He gets to go pet the kitty cat. Now, we don't have a real cat, but this is our cat. The one that stands sentinel over the steps. And me moves it onto the steps so it can continue to stand guard while the gate is closed.
Me? I move it to the side. But he likes it on the steps. Whatever.
Well, today he was again insisting that the gate be closed. He picked up the cat by the neck and lifted it to the first step. Unfortunately, he missed and let go at the same time.
That heavy old brass door stop came crashing down on his foot.
(Now entering slow motion mode)
I see it drop. He suddenly starts to cry. And he starts dancing around like a looney toon character on one foot whose had his foot crush.
I'm going to be honest. It was funny. Not him being hurt or upset. The dancing. It was hysterical. Comical. But I didn't laugh. No, no. But it was really funny.
I paused for just a second to see the humor in his dance before scooping him up and coddling him. Poor baby.
Keep in mind, that the brass cat isn't very heavy, and it only fell about 4-5 inches onto his socked foot. He was shocked more than hurt.
I still examined both of his feet and gave him kisses on his toes to make it better.
Then we had a lesson in gravity.
"Kitty Cat is heavy. When you drop something heavy on your foot it hurts."
"Mommy. Kitty heavy. I hava booboo toe. No drop kitty."
Well, I think he's got it.
But it's self-closing. And locking.
So, we have a brass door stop in the shape of a kitty cat. It was Grandma's. She didn't need it. It was in her way. Now it holds open the baby gate. Yay!
Well, we've been working on leaving the gate open. Billy is pretty good on the steps. Not perfect. But pretty good. So, I'm trying to get him used to the gates not being there. They're like security blanket for him, though.
So, when I leave the gate open at the bottom of the steps, he gets upset and insists that we close the gate. He likes to take this task upon himself. And for good reason.
He gets to go pet the kitty cat. Now, we don't have a real cat, but this is our cat. The one that stands sentinel over the steps. And me moves it onto the steps so it can continue to stand guard while the gate is closed.
Me? I move it to the side. But he likes it on the steps. Whatever.
Well, today he was again insisting that the gate be closed. He picked up the cat by the neck and lifted it to the first step. Unfortunately, he missed and let go at the same time.
That heavy old brass door stop came crashing down on his foot.
(Now entering slow motion mode)
I see it drop. He suddenly starts to cry. And he starts dancing around like a looney toon character on one foot whose had his foot crush.
I'm going to be honest. It was funny. Not him being hurt or upset. The dancing. It was hysterical. Comical. But I didn't laugh. No, no. But it was really funny.
I paused for just a second to see the humor in his dance before scooping him up and coddling him. Poor baby.
Keep in mind, that the brass cat isn't very heavy, and it only fell about 4-5 inches onto his socked foot. He was shocked more than hurt.
I still examined both of his feet and gave him kisses on his toes to make it better.
Then we had a lesson in gravity.
"Kitty Cat is heavy. When you drop something heavy on your foot it hurts."
"Mommy. Kitty heavy. I hava booboo toe. No drop kitty."
Well, I think he's got it.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
September 17, 2012 ~ Oh, Joy! Sleepless Nights...
Billy is sick again. Well, probably the thing he had last week is onto 2.0. There was no sleeping for any of us Sunday night. Billy was up every 20 minutes screaming. Cough, scream, cry, repeat. Rock to sleep, go back to bed, wake up 20 minutes later.
Poor guy. His lungs are really giving him a fit. We debated going to the doctor in the morning. But, while he's not happy, he's not wheezing. We just can't go darting off to the doctor every time he gets a cold or when the pollen count goes up. But I plan on talking to the doctor about home treatments for his "non asthma" that will eventually be asthma.
And in other news...
I cooked! From a recipe! Okay, okay. I can cook. I just don't like to. Mostly it stems from me coming home from work starving and not wanting to put hours of effort into a meal, only to eat it after 10 and be too tired to care what I'm putting in my belly. You see how cooking is a meh for me.
But I borrowed Grandma's copy of the Joy of Cooking to try out some recipes. So, when Billy went off to bed I started cooking tonight's dinner PLUS tomorrow's. Tonight- artichokes. Yum! Daddy won't eat them, so he went to get McDonalds. Totally missing out, but more for me. And for tomorrow I prepared a summer squash casserole. With some minor tweaks to the recipe.
It's awaiting us in the fridge for tomorrow's dinner, so I don't know how it tastes. But it smelled yummy, so that's a start. I'll let you know how it goes.
Now, off to fetch caffeine...
Poor guy. His lungs are really giving him a fit. We debated going to the doctor in the morning. But, while he's not happy, he's not wheezing. We just can't go darting off to the doctor every time he gets a cold or when the pollen count goes up. But I plan on talking to the doctor about home treatments for his "non asthma" that will eventually be asthma.
And in other news...
I cooked! From a recipe! Okay, okay. I can cook. I just don't like to. Mostly it stems from me coming home from work starving and not wanting to put hours of effort into a meal, only to eat it after 10 and be too tired to care what I'm putting in my belly. You see how cooking is a meh for me.
But I borrowed Grandma's copy of the Joy of Cooking to try out some recipes. So, when Billy went off to bed I started cooking tonight's dinner PLUS tomorrow's. Tonight- artichokes. Yum! Daddy won't eat them, so he went to get McDonalds. Totally missing out, but more for me. And for tomorrow I prepared a summer squash casserole. With some minor tweaks to the recipe.
It's awaiting us in the fridge for tomorrow's dinner, so I don't know how it tastes. But it smelled yummy, so that's a start. I'll let you know how it goes.
Now, off to fetch caffeine...
Monday, September 17, 2012
September 16, 2012 ~ My Jackson Pollock Houdini
Saturday, right after the maids left (and no, I don't have regular maids), the decision was made to redecorate the kitchen. I was not present for this decision, since I was in another room cleaning (yes, I was still cleaning after the maids left).
I suddenly heard lots of yelling, followed by screaming and the dog barking. What is going on, I wondered?
I walked into the kitchen to find Billy in the corner crying, Daddy in the kitchen fuming, Buddy under the table cowering. Well, that was at first glance. Then I noticed that my yellow kitchen with wood floors was now pink. But not just pink. It had been Jackson Pollocked.
Okay, okay, I'm an artist but maybe you don't get the reference. See here for Jackson Pollock.
And when I say Jackson Pollocked, I mean like I've never seen it before.
And what was all of the pink stuff? Oh, God! Say it isn't so1 Not Yogurt! Not the dreaded Yogurt! Strawberry yogurt EVERYWHERE. On the table. On the chairs. On the high chair. Under the table. Around the table. On the walls. On the pantry. In the microwave? (Yeah, that takes some talent). All over the dog. Up and down the trash can. On the floor from the table to the sink.
Splatters.
Pink yogurty splatters.
If you've never cleaned up yogurt from the floor then you don't know. This stuff is insidious. You wipe it up, then it dries and it's back again. So tasty. Such a mess . So hard to clean.
We made Billy stay in time out until the whole mess was cleaned up. I think it took about twenty minutes. To clean my newly cleaned the maids were just here kitchen. Then he had to apologize. Especially to Buddy, who didn't like being coated in yogurt.
Bring on Sunday.
There we are, the picture of domestic bliss. Billy eating his tikki masala in his chair and me washing dishes in the sink with my back to him, but happily singing (off-key) to him.
And then I turn around.
My kitchen has been Jackson Pollocked. Again. This time in Tikki Masala, which STAINS. It's bright orange. It stains orange.
There Billy is laughing, until he see my face.
Straight into time out. He stood in the corner crying "Sowwy Mommy" over and over. It's hard to stay mad when he's being that cute, but I made him time out until I cleaned up the kitchen. Again.
I'm not sure my kitchen can stand all of this redecorating.
~
Not only is he Jackson Pollock, but this weekend he officially became a Houdini as well. He escaped from a pack'n'play by landing on his head. Then I watched him escape from his crib, but I pushed him back in before he fell and really hurt himself. The days of the crib are finitely numbered. Until then, there is a pillow pile surrounding the crib, just in case he Houdinis again.
I'm not looking forward to free range toddler.
I suddenly heard lots of yelling, followed by screaming and the dog barking. What is going on, I wondered?
I walked into the kitchen to find Billy in the corner crying, Daddy in the kitchen fuming, Buddy under the table cowering. Well, that was at first glance. Then I noticed that my yellow kitchen with wood floors was now pink. But not just pink. It had been Jackson Pollocked.
Okay, okay, I'm an artist but maybe you don't get the reference. See here for Jackson Pollock.
And when I say Jackson Pollocked, I mean like I've never seen it before.
And what was all of the pink stuff? Oh, God! Say it isn't so1 Not Yogurt! Not the dreaded Yogurt! Strawberry yogurt EVERYWHERE. On the table. On the chairs. On the high chair. Under the table. Around the table. On the walls. On the pantry. In the microwave? (Yeah, that takes some talent). All over the dog. Up and down the trash can. On the floor from the table to the sink.
Splatters.
Pink yogurty splatters.
If you've never cleaned up yogurt from the floor then you don't know. This stuff is insidious. You wipe it up, then it dries and it's back again. So tasty. Such a mess . So hard to clean.
We made Billy stay in time out until the whole mess was cleaned up. I think it took about twenty minutes. To clean my newly cleaned the maids were just here kitchen. Then he had to apologize. Especially to Buddy, who didn't like being coated in yogurt.
Bring on Sunday.
There we are, the picture of domestic bliss. Billy eating his tikki masala in his chair and me washing dishes in the sink with my back to him, but happily singing (off-key) to him.
And then I turn around.
My kitchen has been Jackson Pollocked. Again. This time in Tikki Masala, which STAINS. It's bright orange. It stains orange.
There Billy is laughing, until he see my face.
Straight into time out. He stood in the corner crying "Sowwy Mommy" over and over. It's hard to stay mad when he's being that cute, but I made him time out until I cleaned up the kitchen. Again.
I'm not sure my kitchen can stand all of this redecorating.
~
Not only is he Jackson Pollock, but this weekend he officially became a Houdini as well. He escaped from a pack'n'play by landing on his head. Then I watched him escape from his crib, but I pushed him back in before he fell and really hurt himself. The days of the crib are finitely numbered. Until then, there is a pillow pile surrounding the crib, just in case he Houdinis again.
I'm not looking forward to free range toddler.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
The Sunday Post ~ Ipod Touch Review - for Toddlers/Babies
Late to post, but life goes on whether I want to blog or not, and sometimes I've got stuff to do- fun stuff today!
The iPod Touch has been out for several years, but I highly recommend on for the small people in this world. He has his own playlists, some for sleeping and some for play. He's not even one yet and is able to access his music and play it by himself- although navigating the ipod can be a little tricky for him. I usually need to supervise.
But music is an instant way to change his mood. Down in the dumps? Play some fast music! Need an activity? Break out the sing-along songs. Having trouble sleeping? Bring on Strauss.
The best part is that even if he accidentally deletes music from the device, I can just sync it with the computer and everything is back. So, he essentially can't cause too many problems. Unlike CDs, I don't have to worry about scratching and loading them into a player, either. One device, ready to go, and toddler-proof.
And because it's only an ipod and not a phone, he can't place random calls or access the internet. But he can still get to his music and learn electronic devices at an early age. Let's face it folks, technology is here to stay, so he might as well learn it sooner than later. It's a part of our lives now.
I couldn't live without my iPod Touch and it's not for myself, it's for my toddler. It brightens his mood instantly, and that is a win/win.
The iPod Touch has been out for several years, but I highly recommend on for the small people in this world. He has his own playlists, some for sleeping and some for play. He's not even one yet and is able to access his music and play it by himself- although navigating the ipod can be a little tricky for him. I usually need to supervise.
But music is an instant way to change his mood. Down in the dumps? Play some fast music! Need an activity? Break out the sing-along songs. Having trouble sleeping? Bring on Strauss.
The best part is that even if he accidentally deletes music from the device, I can just sync it with the computer and everything is back. So, he essentially can't cause too many problems. Unlike CDs, I don't have to worry about scratching and loading them into a player, either. One device, ready to go, and toddler-proof.
And because it's only an ipod and not a phone, he can't place random calls or access the internet. But he can still get to his music and learn electronic devices at an early age. Let's face it folks, technology is here to stay, so he might as well learn it sooner than later. It's a part of our lives now.
I couldn't live without my iPod Touch and it's not for myself, it's for my toddler. It brightens his mood instantly, and that is a win/win.
Saturday, September 15, 2012
September 14, 2012 ~ First Pee
I'm so proud. He peed in the potty. One drop. But he got one drop. And he got four M&Ms for his valiant effort.
And this is how my life is different. I'm not singing his accomplishments for graduating Harvard or getting a PHD or winning a prize at school or winning a game against a difficult opponent. Nope. Pee. One drop. One drop of pee.
And on another note...
Happy Birthday to the Star-Spangled Banner, 198 years young. O!
And this is how my life is different. I'm not singing his accomplishments for graduating Harvard or getting a PHD or winning a prize at school or winning a game against a difficult opponent. Nope. Pee. One drop. One drop of pee.
And on another note...
Happy Birthday to the Star-Spangled Banner, 198 years young. O!
Friday, September 14, 2012
September 13, 2012 ~ To The Pool And Back
"Mommy, I go walk," Billy announced. He didn't wait for an answer. He wasn't wearing shoes. He just popped open the back door and headed out for a walk, the lil bugger.
Down the driveway, then onto the sidewalk, he kept going.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I walk!" he responded. Still barefoot. Still determined.
I would have liked to have thrown a coat on him, and some socks and shoes. It was a bit blustery.
Still walking, swinging his arms, he shouted back, "Mommy, clothes off!" Then he started pulling at his shirt, trying to remove it, still walking forward.
Well, now I knew where he was headed. "Billy, the pool is closed." You know, being September and all, and the weather turning colder, the pool is closed until next summer.
"Clothes off!" he retorted. (Retorted. Really, I wrote that?)
He walked himself all the way to the pool and leaned his head against the closed gates.
"Make it open!" he demanded.
Inside all of the chairs and tables were stacked. The wind blew a few stray leaves across the pavement. And not a soul could be seen. It was so lonely and forgotten looking, when just last week kids frolicked and laughed as the last days of summer passed.
So, I scooped him up and carried him home.
"No, Mommy! Pool!" he cried.
"All gone, Billy. All gone." At least until next year. But to a toddler, that might as well be forever.
Down the driveway, then onto the sidewalk, he kept going.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I walk!" he responded. Still barefoot. Still determined.
I would have liked to have thrown a coat on him, and some socks and shoes. It was a bit blustery.
Still walking, swinging his arms, he shouted back, "Mommy, clothes off!" Then he started pulling at his shirt, trying to remove it, still walking forward.
Well, now I knew where he was headed. "Billy, the pool is closed." You know, being September and all, and the weather turning colder, the pool is closed until next summer.
"Clothes off!" he retorted. (Retorted. Really, I wrote that?)
He walked himself all the way to the pool and leaned his head against the closed gates.
"Make it open!" he demanded.
Inside all of the chairs and tables were stacked. The wind blew a few stray leaves across the pavement. And not a soul could be seen. It was so lonely and forgotten looking, when just last week kids frolicked and laughed as the last days of summer passed.
So, I scooped him up and carried him home.
"No, Mommy! Pool!" he cried.
"All gone, Billy. All gone." At least until next year. But to a toddler, that might as well be forever.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
September 11, 2012 Part 2 ~ What's For Dinner
"Hey Billy, what do you want for dinner?"
"Ice Cream!"
"Okay, you can't have ice cream for dinner. No ice cream today. What do you want for dinner?"
"Apple Pie!"
"No, you can't have pie for dinner. That's dessert. What do you want for dinner?"
"Apple pie with ice cream?"
The trials and tribulations of dinner after having taken Billy to the grocery store. He's got the whole list of goodies I bought in his head, ready to ask at a moment's notice.
After dinner I gave him some apple pie. His response?
"Mommy, I like ice cream. I LIKE apple pie!"
"Ice Cream!"
"Okay, you can't have ice cream for dinner. No ice cream today. What do you want for dinner?"
"Apple Pie!"
"No, you can't have pie for dinner. That's dessert. What do you want for dinner?"
"Apple pie with ice cream?"
The trials and tribulations of dinner after having taken Billy to the grocery store. He's got the whole list of goodies I bought in his head, ready to ask at a moment's notice.
After dinner I gave him some apple pie. His response?
"Mommy, I like ice cream. I LIKE apple pie!"
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
September 11, 2012 ~ More Than "Never Forget"
You probably know exactly where you were the moment things happened on that fateful Tuesday 11 years ago. I bet you could recount the events of the morning in detail. I know I could. So, it's really not that much to say "Never Forget." I don't think I could if I tried. Those horrific images are burned into my brain. I'm sure it's the same for most people.
I was in college back then. I witnessed the tragedy, but it wasn't personal. I lived with 12 other girls, some of whose parents worked in the World Trade Center. I was in class when it happened, and many of my classmates ran out to call relatives and friends to check on them. I witnessed others despair, and then relief at so many friends and relatives that had been late to work that day.
But I, myself, didn't have relatives in New York or DC. Daddy did in DC at the Pentagon. But that's another tale.
The scariest moment for me was the day after. Perhaps you remember that all of the planes were grounded in the whole country? So imagine suddenly hearing the roar of jets. I was walking from North campus to class through a bottle-neck area by the train tracks. Despite the large number of students passing through there at the time, it was eerily quiet. No one was talking. And then suddenly fighter jets scrambled above our heads, flying north towards New York. Girls screamed. People collapsed to the ground and covered their heads. Boys and girls alike were crying in fear. I just stood there and watched them fly over. We couldn't tell if they were friend or foe at the time. They were ours. And I heard a rumor later that they were an escort for the bodies being lifted away from the rubble.
I bet everyone that reads this has a tale to tell too. But just think- Billy has no tale to tell from that day. There are 11 year olds, middle schoolers, born after the attacks with no memory of that day. For the new generation they don't have images burned into their memory.
Often with September 11 we hear the phrase "Will Will Never Forget." No, we won't. But now we must charge ourselves with the task of making sure that the new generation and the ones to follow learn about this moment in our history and that they will never forget either.
I was in college back then. I witnessed the tragedy, but it wasn't personal. I lived with 12 other girls, some of whose parents worked in the World Trade Center. I was in class when it happened, and many of my classmates ran out to call relatives and friends to check on them. I witnessed others despair, and then relief at so many friends and relatives that had been late to work that day.
But I, myself, didn't have relatives in New York or DC. Daddy did in DC at the Pentagon. But that's another tale.
The scariest moment for me was the day after. Perhaps you remember that all of the planes were grounded in the whole country? So imagine suddenly hearing the roar of jets. I was walking from North campus to class through a bottle-neck area by the train tracks. Despite the large number of students passing through there at the time, it was eerily quiet. No one was talking. And then suddenly fighter jets scrambled above our heads, flying north towards New York. Girls screamed. People collapsed to the ground and covered their heads. Boys and girls alike were crying in fear. I just stood there and watched them fly over. We couldn't tell if they were friend or foe at the time. They were ours. And I heard a rumor later that they were an escort for the bodies being lifted away from the rubble.
I bet everyone that reads this has a tale to tell too. But just think- Billy has no tale to tell from that day. There are 11 year olds, middle schoolers, born after the attacks with no memory of that day. For the new generation they don't have images burned into their memory.
Often with September 11 we hear the phrase "Will Will Never Forget." No, we won't. But now we must charge ourselves with the task of making sure that the new generation and the ones to follow learn about this moment in our history and that they will never forget either.
 |
| Copywrite Sharon White Hove, 2001 |
Monday, September 10, 2012
September 9, 2012 ~ On the Fence
You know how dogs and cats can just "sense" that they are soon to be making a trip to the vet? I swear Billy senses when we have to go out.
We were on the fence about leaving. But some close friends were getting married, and it's not like they get married every day. But it's also Billy's breathing and health and he's still not 100%. He's still audibly breathing and definitely putting more effort into each breath than he should. But, after a talk with the doctor and more medicine we did decide to go.
Of course, knowing that we were going, Billy tried to get himself into just about as much trouble as he possibly could.
For example:
"Mommy, I go kick Buddy". (He's telling me he wants to go over and kick Buddy, so is sleeping.)
"No. Don't kick Buddy."
So he runs over to Buddy, kicks him hard in the ribcage, puts on his devil-may-care grin and says, "I no kick Buddy!"
Okay, that's it! Time out, dude. This is actually more about listening to me than about the actual action. We're having issues with him listening.
And Grandma was equally having issues with him listening to her while we were gone. I checked in several times during the course of the wedding. I might have been mildly concerned, even after medicating with a glass or two of wine. He tricked Grandma into skipping his nap and got himself into all kinds of mischief.
One highlight from this weekend:
I fixed Billy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Yum. He loves PB&J. But today he was more interested in licking the contents out of the sandwich than with eating the bread. He pulled apart the two pieces of bread to get to the interior. The jellied bread was discarded after a few licks. Then onto the peanut butter. he licked off as much as he could. But then what? What would you do? Eat the bread? No! Use the bread to smear peanut butter all over his face! He lathered up and laughed about it. I guess peanut butter makes a great moisturizer.
And one last note:
Congrats to R&M on a beautiful ceremony and a reception that 'rocked'. You guys are awesome.
We were on the fence about leaving. But some close friends were getting married, and it's not like they get married every day. But it's also Billy's breathing and health and he's still not 100%. He's still audibly breathing and definitely putting more effort into each breath than he should. But, after a talk with the doctor and more medicine we did decide to go.
Of course, knowing that we were going, Billy tried to get himself into just about as much trouble as he possibly could.
For example:
"Mommy, I go kick Buddy". (He's telling me he wants to go over and kick Buddy, so is sleeping.)
"No. Don't kick Buddy."
So he runs over to Buddy, kicks him hard in the ribcage, puts on his devil-may-care grin and says, "I no kick Buddy!"
Okay, that's it! Time out, dude. This is actually more about listening to me than about the actual action. We're having issues with him listening.
And Grandma was equally having issues with him listening to her while we were gone. I checked in several times during the course of the wedding. I might have been mildly concerned, even after medicating with a glass or two of wine. He tricked Grandma into skipping his nap and got himself into all kinds of mischief.
One highlight from this weekend:
I fixed Billy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Yum. He loves PB&J. But today he was more interested in licking the contents out of the sandwich than with eating the bread. He pulled apart the two pieces of bread to get to the interior. The jellied bread was discarded after a few licks. Then onto the peanut butter. he licked off as much as he could. But then what? What would you do? Eat the bread? No! Use the bread to smear peanut butter all over his face! He lathered up and laughed about it. I guess peanut butter makes a great moisturizer.
And one last note:
Congrats to R&M on a beautiful ceremony and a reception that 'rocked'. You guys are awesome.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
The Sunday Post ~ Playskool Walk N' Ride
Buy it here!
Well, the colors are different this year, but the toy is the same.
We love this little toy. I bought it when our son started standing up and used it as a push toy. He loved it then. It was a huge help in him learning how to walk and working on his balance. It was in use every day back when he was learning to walk. He loved it that much.
After he was walking we converted it to the ride-on version. He liked that too, but was only ever able to figure out how to make it go backwards, so we put it back to the push version for him to play with.
Now he loves to play with it both ways, and best of all, he doesn't get bored with it as quickly as other toys because its really two toys. He'll push it around and then ask to have it made into a car and then ride it around as well.
It has five little activities, but they pale in comparison to pushing a walker or riding a car. His favorite activity it the trunk, where he hides his binkies.
We love it.
Pictures from one year ago.
Well, the colors are different this year, but the toy is the same.
We love this little toy. I bought it when our son started standing up and used it as a push toy. He loved it then. It was a huge help in him learning how to walk and working on his balance. It was in use every day back when he was learning to walk. He loved it that much.
After he was walking we converted it to the ride-on version. He liked that too, but was only ever able to figure out how to make it go backwards, so we put it back to the push version for him to play with.
Now he loves to play with it both ways, and best of all, he doesn't get bored with it as quickly as other toys because its really two toys. He'll push it around and then ask to have it made into a car and then ride it around as well.
It has five little activities, but they pale in comparison to pushing a walker or riding a car. His favorite activity it the trunk, where he hides his binkies.
We love it.
Pictures from one year ago.
September 8, 2012 ~ September's Mittens
Well, I'm behind a post, so here's an extra one for you!
Some photo highlights from today. Billy picked another flower and carried it around all morning. This is the same kind as the one he clutched all yesterday in the ER.
Then Billy wanted to wear mittens and insisted on wearing them on his bike ride. Note the beach chair in the back of the one photo and the lush greenery in the back of the other. Maybe in Minnie's Soda it's cold enough for mittens at night in September, but in the middle of the day in Maryland it's a sauna out there!
Some photo highlights from today. Billy picked another flower and carried it around all morning. This is the same kind as the one he clutched all yesterday in the ER.
Then Billy wanted to wear mittens and insisted on wearing them on his bike ride. Note the beach chair in the back of the one photo and the lush greenery in the back of the other. Maybe in Minnie's Soda it's cold enough for mittens at night in September, but in the middle of the day in Maryland it's a sauna out there!
September 7, 2012 ~ A Day at the Hospital
Yes, it's true. Billy got his third trip to the hospital.
It started Thursday night. He woke up soon after going to bed and asked for cuddles. Uh oh. Billy only likes attack cuddles and usually in the daytime. Never at night. And every time I tried to put him down he asked for more cuddles.
Then, late into the night he started throwing up. He was up all night, miserable, screaming, puking and whimpering. It was terrible night for us all. In the morning he finally fell asleep, so I let him sleep as long as he wanted- a whole four hours and then called the doctor once he got up.
It was clear to me that he was having breathing trouble again, which is what prompted me to take him to see his pediatrician anyway. By morning the puking had stopped.
They treated him at the ped's office with a nebulizer, but his breathing only improved marginally. So, we were sent off to the ER for further treatment and evaluation.
At the hospital they gave him his magic adventure bracelet so that everyone would know he was on a grand adventure. Listen, I had to make him think it was a good thing somehow. The ER is a big adventure.
He was treated with a dinosaur mask to three more nebulizers, and still he was breathing better but not well. He was a big boy though, didn't cry and helped hold the mask in place. He didn't like the elastic around his head, but as long as he could hold it or Mommy hold it he was okay and sat quietly while he was treated. This is a huge improvement from the last time.
As it turned out, even with three temp readings showing him having a normal temp, a final temp check with a rectal thermometer proved he had a fever. Immediately, the doctors suspected pneumonia. It was off for xrays to verify.
The xrays showed one small spot of infection on a lung, but no pneumonia. So, they treated him with a steroid, motrin for the fever and sent us home once his pulse-ox got up to 95.
We were there until almost 5 and in that whole time he didn't sleep and had a total of 4 crackers of food for the day with a handful of cheerios in the morning. I hadn't sleep either and I didn't have food and only half a cup of coffee- no other drink, for the whole day. I didn't think we would end up at the hospital, so I hadn't planned on it.
When we got home Daddy was making chili. Billy went down for a nap but got up shortly thereafter to eat. He wasn't really hungry, though. But he did want Daddy's chili. He helped make it, but it needed to Cook and Billy had to go back to bed. He went to sleep with his spoon- ready to eat at a moment's notice.
I heard him singing in his crib a few hours later and went to check on him. When I did, he popped up, spoon in hand. "It ready?!" he asked excitedly. Nope. Go back to bed. Actually, it was done, eaten and packed away in the fridge. But that's life. He can have some tonight.
Well, tonight puts him through the danger zone and then he should be fine. He's still sick, but I think he's on the mend.
Oh yeah, and the whole time at the hospital he had an aster clutched in his hand that he picked from my garden.
My question... You've got a kid with upper respiratory illness, fever and stomach conditions and you don't take a blood test? He was just at the fair twice. Swine flu? He's covered in mosquito bites. West Nile? But they didn't test him for these. I'm just curious why not? I didn't think about it then, but after I got home and thought about it. He's got flu-like symptoms and you don't test? What am I missing?
(our state has had outbreaks of both diseases in the past two weeks.)
It started Thursday night. He woke up soon after going to bed and asked for cuddles. Uh oh. Billy only likes attack cuddles and usually in the daytime. Never at night. And every time I tried to put him down he asked for more cuddles.
Then, late into the night he started throwing up. He was up all night, miserable, screaming, puking and whimpering. It was terrible night for us all. In the morning he finally fell asleep, so I let him sleep as long as he wanted- a whole four hours and then called the doctor once he got up.
It was clear to me that he was having breathing trouble again, which is what prompted me to take him to see his pediatrician anyway. By morning the puking had stopped.
They treated him at the ped's office with a nebulizer, but his breathing only improved marginally. So, we were sent off to the ER for further treatment and evaluation.
At the hospital they gave him his magic adventure bracelet so that everyone would know he was on a grand adventure. Listen, I had to make him think it was a good thing somehow. The ER is a big adventure.
He was treated with a dinosaur mask to three more nebulizers, and still he was breathing better but not well. He was a big boy though, didn't cry and helped hold the mask in place. He didn't like the elastic around his head, but as long as he could hold it or Mommy hold it he was okay and sat quietly while he was treated. This is a huge improvement from the last time.
As it turned out, even with three temp readings showing him having a normal temp, a final temp check with a rectal thermometer proved he had a fever. Immediately, the doctors suspected pneumonia. It was off for xrays to verify.
The xrays showed one small spot of infection on a lung, but no pneumonia. So, they treated him with a steroid, motrin for the fever and sent us home once his pulse-ox got up to 95.
We were there until almost 5 and in that whole time he didn't sleep and had a total of 4 crackers of food for the day with a handful of cheerios in the morning. I hadn't sleep either and I didn't have food and only half a cup of coffee- no other drink, for the whole day. I didn't think we would end up at the hospital, so I hadn't planned on it.
When we got home Daddy was making chili. Billy went down for a nap but got up shortly thereafter to eat. He wasn't really hungry, though. But he did want Daddy's chili. He helped make it, but it needed to Cook and Billy had to go back to bed. He went to sleep with his spoon- ready to eat at a moment's notice.
I heard him singing in his crib a few hours later and went to check on him. When I did, he popped up, spoon in hand. "It ready?!" he asked excitedly. Nope. Go back to bed. Actually, it was done, eaten and packed away in the fridge. But that's life. He can have some tonight.
Well, tonight puts him through the danger zone and then he should be fine. He's still sick, but I think he's on the mend.
Oh yeah, and the whole time at the hospital he had an aster clutched in his hand that he picked from my garden.
My question... You've got a kid with upper respiratory illness, fever and stomach conditions and you don't take a blood test? He was just at the fair twice. Swine flu? He's covered in mosquito bites. West Nile? But they didn't test him for these. I'm just curious why not? I didn't think about it then, but after I got home and thought about it. He's got flu-like symptoms and you don't test? What am I missing?
(our state has had outbreaks of both diseases in the past two weeks.)
Friday, September 7, 2012
Where's My Post?
Hi all,
After a long and exhausting night followed by a day in the ER we are home. Billy is unwell but home sleeping. Having not slept, I am a Mommy Crankypants. I will write more later after I recoup for a very long day.
After a long and exhausting night followed by a day in the ER we are home. Billy is unwell but home sleeping. Having not slept, I am a Mommy Crankypants. I will write more later after I recoup for a very long day.
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
September 4, 2012 ~ The Toddler Butter Dance
Butter to me is like kryptonite to Superman. It's my downfall. I would eat it on cardboard if it meant getting to eat more butter. I try to be good, but it's my weakness. And I should have known...
A few days ago I gave Billy a sweet potato. He didn't want to eat it so I put some butter and cinnamon on it. He gobbled it down. I told him the white stuff was butter. "Butter, yum!" And yesterday I made him a cheese sandwich. He removed the cheese so he could just eat the buttered bread. The poor discarded cheese, once his favorite, was shoved back in the fridge like unwanted garbage. "More butter bread?"
Well, after dinner, bath and play he wanted more food. "Butter, Mommy?" Wait.. just butter? Um, let's think about that one. No.
"How about bread and butter?"
"No. Butter?" Okay, try again.
"Would you like some cheese?"
"Cheese with butter?" He sounded expectant.
"Um...no. We don't eat cheese with just butter. How about a nice yummy piece of cheese?"
"With butter?" Uh oh. I think it's time to enroll lil man in the 12 step program for butter addiction...
Wait, I know! I pulled out the brand new loaf of raisin bread. and got out the tub of butter.
"Butter!" He did a little dance. Imagine a toddler doing Riverdance. That about sums it up.
After I gave him his first ever taste of raisin bread- with butter- he continued to dance around. I tried to get a video of him but he kept running away. He knows all about cameras now, and yes, he can work them too. But I did finally catch a piece of video for your enjoyment.
You can view a Billy Dance here: The Butter Dance
A few days ago I gave Billy a sweet potato. He didn't want to eat it so I put some butter and cinnamon on it. He gobbled it down. I told him the white stuff was butter. "Butter, yum!" And yesterday I made him a cheese sandwich. He removed the cheese so he could just eat the buttered bread. The poor discarded cheese, once his favorite, was shoved back in the fridge like unwanted garbage. "More butter bread?"
Well, after dinner, bath and play he wanted more food. "Butter, Mommy?" Wait.. just butter? Um, let's think about that one. No.
"How about bread and butter?"
"No. Butter?" Okay, try again.
"Would you like some cheese?"
"Cheese with butter?" He sounded expectant.
"Um...no. We don't eat cheese with just butter. How about a nice yummy piece of cheese?"
"With butter?" Uh oh. I think it's time to enroll lil man in the 12 step program for butter addiction...
Wait, I know! I pulled out the brand new loaf of raisin bread. and got out the tub of butter.
"Butter!" He did a little dance. Imagine a toddler doing Riverdance. That about sums it up.
After I gave him his first ever taste of raisin bread- with butter- he continued to dance around. I tried to get a video of him but he kept running away. He knows all about cameras now, and yes, he can work them too. But I did finally catch a piece of video for your enjoyment.
You can view a Billy Dance here: The Butter Dance
Monday, September 3, 2012
Labor Day 2012 ~ Another Day at the Fair
Isaac Came to town. Only, he's not Isaac anymore, just a lump of rain, thunder and humidity hanging over the region. Well, what better way to spend a rainy morning than playing in the rain?
Billy stood out on the stoop and shouted to the rain, then would run back on the porch and tell me he was wet and messy and ask for a towel. He did it repeatedly until the rain stopped. "More?" he asked. Well, not until Isaac throws some more at us. The sun came out and it was back to humidity soup.
After nap it was off to the fair for the last time of 2012. It was the last day of the fair. We met up with a friend, and Daddy arrived from "Minnie's Soda". ("Mommy, Daddy in Minnie's Soda. Daddy's Soda? Mommy's Soda!")
We checked out the animals while Isaac threw a torrent of rain and thunder our way. You know, hanging out in a wooden, exposed hut in a storm with ear-splitting lightning. But he didn't seem to mind. He screamed at the bunnies and got yelled at by the 4-Hers about it. Listen, he was happy to see those rabbits. And he pet a billy goat. Hehe.
When the storm was over it was time for food. Do you think he liked his first corn dog? I couldn't tell, it was gone so fast.
Then it was off to the rides. He went on the carousel and flying elephants with Daddy, the Crazy Bus and Wiggle Worm with our friend, and back to the horseys with Mommy.
He tried to get on the bigger rides, especially the roller coaster, but, well, he's a little too short to ride those rides. Maybe next year- or next decade. Something like that. He loves rides. LOVES. *fear!*
He also tried his first fried oreo and funnel cake. I bet you can figure out how he felt about those. And the sugar of everything got to him, so he started breaking out into a rumba in the middle of the midway. At least, we think it was a rumba. It looked something like that.
And after a long day, we took him home and he didn't want to sleep. But our little family had a wonderful time at the fair.
Billy stood out on the stoop and shouted to the rain, then would run back on the porch and tell me he was wet and messy and ask for a towel. He did it repeatedly until the rain stopped. "More?" he asked. Well, not until Isaac throws some more at us. The sun came out and it was back to humidity soup.
After nap it was off to the fair for the last time of 2012. It was the last day of the fair. We met up with a friend, and Daddy arrived from "Minnie's Soda". ("Mommy, Daddy in Minnie's Soda. Daddy's Soda? Mommy's Soda!")
We checked out the animals while Isaac threw a torrent of rain and thunder our way. You know, hanging out in a wooden, exposed hut in a storm with ear-splitting lightning. But he didn't seem to mind. He screamed at the bunnies and got yelled at by the 4-Hers about it. Listen, he was happy to see those rabbits. And he pet a billy goat. Hehe.
When the storm was over it was time for food. Do you think he liked his first corn dog? I couldn't tell, it was gone so fast.
Then it was off to the rides. He went on the carousel and flying elephants with Daddy, the Crazy Bus and Wiggle Worm with our friend, and back to the horseys with Mommy.
He tried to get on the bigger rides, especially the roller coaster, but, well, he's a little too short to ride those rides. Maybe next year- or next decade. Something like that. He loves rides. LOVES. *fear!*
He also tried his first fried oreo and funnel cake. I bet you can figure out how he felt about those. And the sugar of everything got to him, so he started breaking out into a rumba in the middle of the midway. At least, we think it was a rumba. It looked something like that.
And after a long day, we took him home and he didn't want to sleep. But our little family had a wonderful time at the fair.
September 2, 2012 ~ Buddy Did It
Highlights from this weekend:
~ I left the room for thirty seconds and came back to find Billy still sitting at the coffee table, but his bowl of dry cheerios had been dumped all over the table. "Billy who spilled the cheerios?" He pointed his finger accusingly at the dog, "Buddy did it." "Hmm, are you sure? I think Billy did it." "No, Buddy did it." He's only one and he's already blaming the dog.
~ We sat and watched a thunderstorm pass to the south of us. "Billy, what does a thunderstorm say?" "Boom!" Then the thunder would boom and he'd clap. I pointed out the lightning bolts. "Mommy, more lighting?" Close enough.
~ "Where's Daddy?" "Minnie's Soda."
~ I left the room for thirty seconds and came back to find Billy still sitting at the coffee table, but his bowl of dry cheerios had been dumped all over the table. "Billy who spilled the cheerios?" He pointed his finger accusingly at the dog, "Buddy did it." "Hmm, are you sure? I think Billy did it." "No, Buddy did it." He's only one and he's already blaming the dog.
~ We sat and watched a thunderstorm pass to the south of us. "Billy, what does a thunderstorm say?" "Boom!" Then the thunder would boom and he'd clap. I pointed out the lightning bolts. "Mommy, more lighting?" Close enough.
~ "Where's Daddy?" "Minnie's Soda."
 |
| Mommy and Billy with the Blue Moon |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)