April 20, 2012 ~ Chasing Shadows

This evening Daddy set out to make a mockery of knot tying by rehaning the baby swing in the tree. I had asked him to do it so that the swing was more secure... I was just expecting the boy scout in him to have a better rig. But anyway, as soon as he was done and wanted Billy to try it out, Billy lost interest and ran out to the front yard.

I thought he wanted to see the BeepBeeps. Nope. Those are boring today. Let's chase shadows! He ran down the sidewalk screaming "aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!" after his own shadow. When he was done he turned around and ran back the other way. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!" Down the hill. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh!" Around the bend. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" Back up the hill. "Aaaaaa..." Oh, wait. Mommy pick me up, running up the hill sucks.

Yeah, right. Running up the hill is no problem at all. I can do it barefoot with a 25 pound weight strapped to me. And I did.

The moral of the story? Don't chase your shadow if you can't run back up the hill. :P

April 19, 2012 ~ Prehistoric Baby

How is it possible that men are born like cavemen? Is it really ingrained? Even Daddy for all of his education and worldliness has a man cave where he goes to do battle with computerized foes. Are we just cave people walking around in suits and heels?

So there I am this morning dropping Billy off at daycare. It's the usual toddler chaos. Here I think that he's going to play with the BeepBeeps on the floor. Instead he runs over to a cute little girl on the other side of the room. She's just standing there. Now, in my head I see this going down: he runs up, does the cute little foot shuffle and then maybe offers a toy or says "hay-yo!" It would be so cute, wouldn't it?

So what does Billy do?

He runs over to that cute little girl in her pigtails and punches her right in the chest. She just stands there deciding whether or not to cry. I, or course, run over and scold him. Seriously? Seriously. So, then I tell him to go over and apologize. So he runs up and gives her a big hug. I'm pretty sure he engineered the whole event just to get to the hugging part.

And here I am imagining Billy's ancestor 40,000 years ago wandering through the woods of Europe. Ooh, he spots a cave woman walking along in her very sexy ill-fitting animal skins. He walk up to her. "You pretty. Me like you." Crash! He whacks her over the head and then drags her off to his favorite cave to make him mammoth stew and raise his brood of cave babies.

We all knew that kid on the playground that would pull a girl's hair to get her attention. I was just hoping that wasn't MY kid.

Drawn In Thursdays: Things Kids Do #2

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Book Reviews

I'm an avid reader. I usually read a book a week, even with a toddler. Before Billy I usually read two.

So, I'll be leaving my comments over on the discussion board after I finish each book. Sorry, I don't often get to the NYT list books that are current. I read everything from modern mysteries to historical romance.

I just posted my thoughts on Wicked. Stay tuned for more posts on the Hunger Games Trilogy, Don't Let's Go To the Dogs Tonight, We Bought A Zoo, Water For Elephants, Sarah's Key and the other dozen or so books I've read this year.

My comments are on the discussion board, located here:

discussion board

April 17, 2012 ~ Baby's got a new pair of shoes

Yep. New shoes. Sorry, no pics yet.

Inevitably, Billy has changed size again. This time he changed shoe size, clothing size and diaper size all at once. It's a cornucopia of new things around here. Like the new outfit from yesterday (see yesterday's post).

I swear, every time I turn around the kid has outgrown something. I'm always ripping clothes off of him because they are too small, even though they fit yesterday before I washed them and the zillion times before that. And of course, once it's ripped off and tossed into the "Don't Fit" pile (read: entire floor of his closet) he starts screaming and running around madly wanting to put the too tight clothes back on. Sometimes, he wins and goes to school with his belly hanging out like he's nine months preggo. Then I wash them and hide them before he freaks out again.

So today we introduced new shoes. These are shoes to make Pierce S. proud. (If you don't know who that is, then you're not my cousin.) Red plaid with navy blue accents. I can't describe men's shoes. So I'm probably making them sound crappy when they're super cute.

Anyways, he wanted to go "oush-shide" and was carrying around his old shoes. I had his socks. I broke open the new box of shoes. Ooooooooooooooooooooh! Quickly he chucks his old shoes over his shoulder. So yesterday.  We sit down and I put them on. More oooooooooooooooohs! Immediately, he has to try them out.

Smack. Smack. Smack. I have a vision of a clown stomping. They're so big. He's so small! (In a not-so-much-anymore kind of way).

Ok, imagine you're one. You've got new shoes. What do you do? Clearly, the first thing to do is smack smack over to your old shoes and... stomp on them! Take that, too small shoes! Ha! And that! "Ok, Billy, enough shoe carnage." Wait, they're still twitching. A few more stomps for good measure. Alright, got 'em!

And now the question for the day: put those old shoes (now dead and mangled thanks to a thorough toddlering) in the "Don't Fit" pile or in the trash pile. Hmm.

Oh yeah, and when I tried to take the shoes off at the end of the day? Massive tantrum. Tears. "Noooooooooooooooo! Shoooooooooooooooes! Miiine!"

I think he likes them. Glass slipper? ruby slippers? Nope. Plaid shoes.

April 16, 2012 ~ Going Carters Cute

First off, a big super duper thank you with an extra dose of awesomeness to Grandma. She rocks. It's true.

So, I've been trudging through the wilderness of baby clothes for about a year and a half now, trying to make sense of it all. Every company seems to have different sizes. Styles are completely different. Some clothes are for long babies, some for fat babies, some for short babies. I mean, seriously, what DOES 0-6 months mean? Zero, that oh-so-cute-I'm-a-week-old-and weigh-7-pounds. Versus 6 months old, which could mean 15-20 pounds. The best I've seen is the 0-12 month size. I think they just couldn't figure out what size baby would fit into that and shot for the moon. I'm going to go out on a limb here- clothes for a newborn aren't going to fit a one-year-old. At least, in my world. Maybe baby clothes manufacturers live in a different reality.

So, here's my plug for my favorite brand. They have always fit Billy in the age range suggested (when you know how to read it aka 3months= 0-3 months). Are super cute. And while pricey sometimes, I'm always able to come up with a bargain. Let's face it: Billy looks cutest in Carters. Oh, and I'm not being paid to say it either.

Mommy's little fan

Cutest. Hat. Ever.

My favorite onsie of all time.

28, as in the year he'll graduate high school...

 

Love this dinosaur shirt. And who doesn't love plaid pants?

Rockin the Carters

today

today

Now, we've had plenty of other cute clothes from other companies. But after the cuteness of today's new outfit, you have to admit, sometimes it's worth going Carters cute.

April 15, 2012 ~ When Billy goes missing...

Every weekend Daddy and I take turns on who gets to sleep in. This morning was my turn. Since Billy will usually break down the door to get to me, Daddy decided to take him out for breakfast around 9:30. Awesome, I get quiet and I get to sleep in. What more can a girl want?

I got up, made myself some french toast and coffee and ate breakfast out on the porch with my book. It was warm, there  was a nice breeze and I was uninterrupted. I was apparently sitting still enough that I got to see a badger wander through the yard (Buddy, you're a terrible guard dog!) and a red-headed woodpecker  was only a few feet from me (don't peck on my house, you gorgeous bird!) It was a lovely morning.

But, I really can't sit still all that long. I opened up all of the windows, cranked the stereo and started cleaning the house from top to bottom. It's hard to clean with a Billy around- takes twice as long- but I was cranking through the chores. Even got two loads of laundry done.

By now it was Billy's naptime. "Huh...where are my guys?" I thought. But Daddy isn't good with time and is probably out running an errand or looking at tools in the hardware store and not watching the clock. "No biggie." I clean until I'm tired of cleaning. I still need to vacuum, but if Daddy comes in with a sleepy Billy I don't want the noise to jar him awake (and it's happened before). Besides, it's a great excuse to avoid vacuuming. Again.

So I grab my book and go back out to the porch to read more. By now I'm watching the clock. Still no boys. So I call Daddy. No answer. So, I read more, wait a half hour and call again. No answer.

Ok, so now we're overdue for a nap by an hour and a half. So, I start checking around. The big diaper bag is still here. Both strollers? Still here. The trike aka the Green Piece of Awesome? Still here. That's one awfully long breakfast. So I call again. Still no answer.

A cornucopia of emotions and thoughts run through my head as two hours past naptime approaches. Is Daddy a big dork who doesn't have his phone on him? I might have thought something stronger than "dork", but let's keep it classy. Are they ok? What the hell are they doing? Has my baby had a diaper change or slept? Are they in a ditch? Kidnapped by men wearing blue gloves from the Alliance? Ok, probably not that last part.

We had plans for this afternoon, so there's no way Daddy would want to miss out- those were his plans. Where is he? Where is Billy? Why won't they/can't they/don't they answer? I call again. Still nothing.

So, I do the only thing that a grown woman can think to do when her husband and son went out for breakfast and it's nearing dinner. I called my Mom. Grandma talked me off the ledge and then called up Daddy herself. He answered immediately. Grandma never calls him, so if she's calling he picks up.

After breakfast Daddy took Billy to the camping store where he had some money to spend there (only usable at that store). He saw a hiking harness for a baby, thought it was cool and bought it. Then he decided to try it out. So they went hiking. And he got lost on the trail. In the woods. Out of cell phone range. Grandma called when they had just made it back to the car, which was in cell phone range.

So, as it turns out, Daddy is a big dork. Again, I might have used some stronger vocabulary, but I think I just won't mention that string of niceties here. He was stunned that I was worried.

"I thought I'd give you the day off," he said.

"Without telling me? We had plans. How about a phone call. I was worried. It's late."

"What, did you think I ran off with our kid?"

"No, your iPad is still here."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

And we're back to that big dork. It's a good thing he's cute.


So, we did get to our plans later today. Billy got to try fresh squeezed lemonade. His thoughts? "Yummy!" His exact word. And at dinner he also bit me and drew blood during a tantrum.

All in all, a stellar day. But, hey... at least the hives are finally gone!

The Sunday Post ~ Easter Grass, My Ass

I can only imagine that the person who invented those colorful strands of cellophane for Easter basket bottoms must be a man. Maybe it was a woman, but I'm going with a guy. My husband always tells me when I'm irked about something to write an angry letter. (This hot and humid weather really sucks. So write an angry letter!)

Mr. Inventor of plastic Easter grass, here's my letter:

I am not a fan. Sure, that plastic grass that cost only a buck looks nice at the bottom of my son's Easter basket. If only it would stay at the bottom of my son's Easter basket. No, I'm pretty sure it's breeding. Little plastic strands hiding under the sofa, disappearing into the patterns of the rugs and sticking to the undersides of stuffed animals. Your grass is so light that it wafts through the house with the greatest of ease. But the real insipidness of it is the material itself. The plastic clings to everything- almost like it's made out of cling wrap. You didn't make it out of cling wrap did you? Easter was a week ago and those clingy little strands of Easter refuse are still turning up like a bad penny. I'm not amused.

Sincerely,
Easter grass, my ass... it's Easter trash

April 13, 2012 ~ Lucky Friday the 13th

I guess most people consider Friday the 13th to be an unlucky day. There's some historical context to the date, but not much to the superstition. How much bad has really happened to you on a Friday the 13th?

It's a lucky day for me.

Grandma was born on a Friday the 13th. That's lucky for me, because without her, there's no me.

I had my first date with my now husband on Friday the 13th and he proposed to me on a subsequent Friday the 13th... Foreboding? Well, we have a Billy and an upcoming anniversary. Definitely lucky days for me.

So today? Just a normal day. We played outside.

And Grandma dropped by and Daddy came home early. Those were certainly pleasant events- nothing unlucky there. We had a good day all around.

The funniest thing to happen today was that Billy pointed at Grandma, "Baba! Baba!" Then he ran over to her and tried to lift up her shirt. He wanted to see her belly button. (baba, or more usually bell-ba). Yep, Grandma's got one too.

So, Happy Friday the 13th. Hope it was a lucky one for you!

April 12, 2012 ~ Budball: the newest, hottest game... Coooooool!

Billy and Buddy have invented a new game, sure to be a smash hit (to them)!

Requirements:
~ Two teams and one ref. One team is comprised of a toddler. The other team is of the canine persuasion.
~ Two tennis balls
~ An obstacle course, and if you don't have on in your house, then a room like an obstacle course, with say... a sofa and toys everywhere

How It Works:
The ref randomly throws both balls up into the air and out towards the obstacle course. The two teams chase after the balls. Once a team gets a ball, they may chase after the second ball. A team can steal an already caught ball from the other team. If one team doesn't have a ball and becomes sad about it, the other team must automatically give up a ball. Once the balls are caught and the chasing ends, the balls are returned to the ref to begin a new round. Sometimes, the ref needs to chase down one or both teams to retrieve the balls.

The result of this game is a hilarity of flying fur, bouncing balls and a giggling Billy.

Drawn In Thursdays: Things Kids Do #1

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April 10, 2012 ~ Watching the News

Today Billy wanted to color so he was sitting at the coffee table with his crayons (crow-yos). On the news they were talking about the issues in Syria and Turkey. Images of tanks on dusty terrain came up. He jumped up and ran over to the tv, "beepbeep! beepbeep!" But then they suddenly showed images of men shooting off guns.

"No. No. Billy. Uh, oh. No. No." I said to him.

He came over and sat down at the coffee table and watched intently. It seemed he realized the gravity of what he was watching. "No, no," he whispered to himself.

Then they showed a photo of the leader of Syria and began talking about his negative points regarding the ongoing strife in the region.

"That is a naughty man. No, no. Ok?"

"Mommy. No, no."

Then there were more war images and he continued to rant, "no, no!"

(Score 1 for the mom team. We're working on the violence=bad thing. It's a little to hard to explain to a toddler the economic, social and political motivations to war. But at least he now believes violence is a real "no, no!")

Next the news started talking about the East Coast wild fires.

"Oooh.... hot!" he yelled at the tv.

"Uh, oh. Hot! No, no." I said.

"Hot! No, no, " he repeated.

Then he got really emphatic with each new image of the fires. "Mommy, no, no!" his voice cracking a little.

"Ooooh! Beepbeep!" Yeah ok, on to the pictures of fire trucks. All things with wheels are beepbeeps, and all beepbeeps are cool.

Then a commercial came on.

"Mommy, hot!"

"No. Not hot." I don't remember what it was for. Could have been denture paste or toilet bowl cleaner. Something mundane, anyway.

"Mommy, hot! Coooooooooooooooooool." He said it with swagger.

Look out folks. We're in trouble now.

April 9, 2012 ~ A Misery of Hives

I hate being sick and I've caught the daycare plague yet again. The lack of breathing I can handle. What I can't tolerate is the part that's not the daycare plague. Hives. A lot of hives. A misery of hives. If hives had a group name like cows in herds or gaggles of geese, it would definitely be a misery of hives.

I have no idea what I'm reacting to. Trees? Maybe. The new sheets? Maybe. A food? I dunno. All I know is that the hives vanished at work and returned within an hour of being home. I'm turning into one giant hive. So, I'm going to keep this short and go tend to my misery.

Besides, super tired baby meant super whiny baby. He'll be more fun tomorrow.

Easter in Photos 2012

What did the Easter Bunny leave?

What's this?

My men in their Easter finery

I found an egg!

Let's hunt for more eggs!

Is there an egg under here?

Happy Easter, Have a Good Passover, Hello Spring!

The Sunday Post ~ Twas The Night Before Easter

Twas the night before Easter
And all through the house
The eggs were all dyed
stripes and flowers and one even looked like a mouse.
The baskets were placed by the back door with care
In hopes that the Easter Bunny soon would be there.
The children were tucked all snug in their beds
while visions of chocolate bunnies danced in their heads.
And Pa in his PJs and I in my gown
Had finished our running and just settled down.
When in the kids' bedroom there arose such a clatter
We sprang from our seats to see what was the matter.
Away to their door I flew with all speed
They were back asleep after one had gotten up and peed.
A late dinner awaited out on the deck.
It was a little too chilly, but hey, "what the heck?"
When out in the garden there was a flash of white fur.
He ran by so fast it was all just a blur.
With a cottonball tail and ears so funny
I knew in a moment it was the Easter Bunny!
He hopped up the step and hopped up one more.
Then then all a sudden he hopped through the door.
His fluffy fur was as white as snow.
And around his neck he wore a pink and yellow polka-dot bow.
And on his head a he wore a tophat
It held all the candy- it must be a magic hat!
Oh how it wiggled, that small bunny nose
And how long those feet, with their cute bunny toes.
His ears on his head reached up so high
A wonder they couldn't reach to the sky.
He filled each basket one by one
Then wiggled his nose when he was all done.
Choclates and peeps and candy galore.
But I thought to myself, "there must be some more!"
Then for each basket a final touch-
That chocolate bunny we all love so much.
Now he was finished and turned with a jerk.
Off to the kitchen to finish his work.
From the fridge he took the bowl of dyed eggs.
Then hopped out into the yard on his white, fuzzy legs.
He hid each one in the garden with care.
Under rocks, behind trees- he hid them with flare.
Then he winked at us and wiggled his nose
And dashed away beneath the primrose.
But I heard him exclaim as he hopped out of sight
"Happy Easter to all, and to all a good night!"

copyright Sharon White Hove 2012

April 6, 2012 ~ Gone Zooey

Well, I was going to write a really sober post about the importance of today. Good Friday, Passover, Opening Day, landmark dates in my own life...

But I'm going to skip the somber and go right for the trip to the zoo today. Who wants to talk about religion anyway? j/k

Grandpop and I took Billy to the zoo today. He hasn't been since he was a little thing and probably has no memory of it. They had a big Easter thing at the zoo today for kids, but we went after- Billy's too young for that stuff anyway.

First up... giraffes.

This one was eating so we got a nice view of his butt. So we went over to look at the other giraffe. He was standing next to the window. When Billy saw him all of the color drained from his face. The walls of the enclosures don't go to the ceiling so the giraffes can lean over. It did. Oh, the terror! But no screaming. I mean, Mommy wasn't afraid and Grandpop wasn't afraid. I had forgotten how tall they are in person. Must seem giant-sized to a pint-sized guy.

Then it was off to the elephants. They were swinging their trunks and dancing around for food. Billy pointed to each one, and again, and again. Boy, were they cool.

But, when you go to the zoo it's not to see the big animals. Oh, no. Big, scary, cool. But not why you go to the zoo. Every Billy knows the real reason you go to the zoo is to see MONKEYS!!! Before we even got up to the monkey house Billy started pointing and saying, "ee, ee!" No, there weren't any monkeys outside. And I don't think he can read yet- wait, I hope he can't read yet. There was only one monkey in the monkey house. Everybody else had gone in to dinner. But Billy pointed and said, "ee, ee!" (Recall that to Billy all things are known by what sound they make.)

Ok, one monkey is boring. So we went over to the chimpanzee exhibit next to the monkey house. I know chimps aren't monkeys, but since Billy seems to think all things round are balls and all things with wheels are Beepbeeps, let's just go with the "hey, at least it's in the same family" concept. The chimps were running and playing right in front of the window. He watched a pair scale the fenced wall. He was thrilled. THRILLED! Monkeys. That's what zoos are for.

Next to the chimp exhibit the same metal fence was enclosing some bamboo. Billy decided to try out his "monkey" skills and scale the fence like the chimps. It didn't work out. No opposable big toes. I think I'm ok with this...

And totally on theme and totally by accident, here's a video from this morning:

Crocodile Rockin' Baby

April 5, 2012 ~ Keep On Clicking

You know, now that Billy is 18 months old, it occurs to me that I've taken.. oh, roughly 3,000 photos of him since he was born. That's a lot of photos. Probably more than have ever been taken of me in my whole life. Hell, probably double. I've taken so many that my computer is running out of room. Yeah, that many.

The funny thing is that I don't think I'm the 'clickiest' Mom out there. Just average. But digital makes it so easy to just keep popping off more shots until you get the perfect one. Of course, when it's your kid, every little thing is cute and you keep on clicking away.

I think back to the days of film. When I went to Ireland I shot a whopping 72 rolls of film. Granted, it was a photographic walkabout. So, there's that. You don't even want to know how much it cost to develop all of those rolls. Ok, I might have been the 'clickiest' on that trip. And I sure love to take pictures. But even that can't compare with the amount of pictures of just one small person that I have taken over a year and a half.

I think digital makes us all photo crazy. Seriously, there might be 10 really great photos of me as a small child. And my Mom has a photography degree. These days it's not a picture that's worth a thousand words, it's a word worth a thousand pictures. I see people taking photos everywhere with all sorts of devices. And it's instant gratification. Like a polaroid, but without all of the shaking. Instant. Who cares about a bowl of cereal? Ok, well, that potato photo on facebook this morning was totally worth it.

Meanwhile, you're probably wondering why this photo nut hasn't been posting photos either here or on facebook. You know, when you move it's the small things that disappear. Not my cameras. Those I can locate. Nope. Try, the battery chargers. Yup. Totally lost. Just found one yesterday. I possibly took a total of 25 photos in March to try to preserve the battery life so I could keep on clicking.

But now the charger is found and I can return to my click-mania. I know what you're thinking... "nut job!" Yeah, but he's just so cute!

Drawn In Thursdays: Hygiene Enforcer #7

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April 3, 2012 ~ Mom's Night Off

It's rare that I get any time to myself. Now, don't get me wrong... I still made dinner, took Billy for a bike ride and did an hour's worth of chores all after work, plus an early start for Billy's check-up this morning. But, I decided it was high time to have some time...for myself.

I took a bubble bath. It's been literally years since I've taken a bubble bath. Too much to do, too many toys in the tub. I want to say some time in 2009? It's about time.

And I treated myself to a cup of tea. I ran out of my favorite tea over six months ago, but since it's a specialty tea I can only get it at select stores that I never go to- except to get this tea. I finally made it there and had a cup. Yum! (African Red Bush with Lemongrass)

And I read a book. No, not the whole book.

Ah, bubble bath, tea and book. So if I stay on schedule, I'll enjoy you all again in... 2015!



And your Billy moment for the day:

"Billy, are you tired?"
"No."
"Would you tell me if you were tired?"
"No."
"Do you want to read a book?"
Thinks about it for a moment... "yes."

April 2, 2012 ~ Jumping In Crib

Let's set the scene:

The room is all dark except for the planets glowing overhead from our planetary projector. Vivaldi's violins set the scene as spring and the sounds of waterfalls on distant African shores waft through the air. It's night; it's bedtime.

In the crib are all of the luvies a toddler could hope for. They line the edge of the crib. Blankets too. Soft ones, thin ones, heavy ones. And a baby pillow.

"More milk?" I ask as I rock him?

"No! Elmo book!" (Actually a Sesame Street book without Elmo in it, possibly from BEFORE Elmo...) Remember, it's dark. But he tries to read the "Elmo book" anyway. He gives up when he can't see the pictures. Oh, wait. Now the milk is appealing.

I put him down iin his crib after our usual bedtime routine. He lays down and is quiet while I walk out. Seconds later- screaming. So I go back in and he is sitting in his crib asking for a "MeMe". Not to be confused with a meme... MeMe is his binky. Then he wants his lamb, which is in the other room. Oh, and yellow bear too. I try to find his favorite- Tigger, but I think Tigger might have been left at church (OMG...no!!!).

"Will you lay down?"

"No!"

He stood up and asked to be picked up.

"No. It's bedtime."

Just then a lively classical tune was playing. He started dancing a jig in his crib. That got him to thinking...'if I can dance, can I bounce?' Hopping is his new thing. He loves to hop. So he walked to the center of the crib and started jumping up and down, giggling hysterically.

Cribs: not just for sleeping anymore.

He's finally asleep... what time is it?