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!
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."
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| Mommy and Billy with the Blue Moon |
Saturday, September 1, 2012
The Sunday Post ~ Fisher Price CD Player Review
Buy it here
Our friend gave our son this toy before he was born and it has been a favorite his whole life.
As a baby the blinking lights and music were attractive to him. He would be mesmerized by it. And best of all, it's rated 6 months and up, so even small babies can play with it without risk of a choking hazard or breakable plastic.
As a toddler he loves putting the CDs in the CD slot and pressing the buttons. He sings and claps along to the familiar songs and will go back to play with this toy every day.
It comes with three fake CDs and has 4 buttons which play a variety of songs. I will point out that some of the lyrics to favorite kids songs have been changed up for some reason (Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water/ the grass was green, the sky was blue, the shining sun was yellow). But, each song is done in a different musical style, exposing kids to all different types of sounds, which I love.
This one is a winner. Even I sing along to it!
Our friend gave our son this toy before he was born and it has been a favorite his whole life.
As a baby the blinking lights and music were attractive to him. He would be mesmerized by it. And best of all, it's rated 6 months and up, so even small babies can play with it without risk of a choking hazard or breakable plastic.
As a toddler he loves putting the CDs in the CD slot and pressing the buttons. He sings and claps along to the familiar songs and will go back to play with this toy every day.
It comes with three fake CDs and has 4 buttons which play a variety of songs. I will point out that some of the lyrics to favorite kids songs have been changed up for some reason (Jack and Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water/ the grass was green, the sky was blue, the shining sun was yellow). But, each song is done in a different musical style, exposing kids to all different types of sounds, which I love.
This one is a winner. Even I sing along to it!
August 31, 2012 ~ A Day at the Fair
Billy got to go to the fair today. We started with the petting zoo. They had a variety of farm animals. He was excited and terrified to see them. They're much bigger in person. He said "moo!" to the cow and "neigh!" to the ponies and "baa!" to the sheep. But he wouldn't touch any of them. "Scary, Mommy."
The animals he liked best were the alpacas. Although, he told me several times, "No, Mama. Llama." Yes, yes. We'll just go with llama for now. I know the difference, but to a one-year-old that's splitting hairs. (Llamas have long necks with shorter hair. Alpacas have shorter necks with longer hair. And their wild cousin, the vicuna (v-eye-coon-ya) is smaller and looks more like an elk than a llama.- from my trip to Peru.)
One alpaca really liked Billy. It made a chirping noise to him. With all of the llama/alpaca/vicunas I met in Peru, I never once heard any of them make noise. But, apparently, at least this one chirped.
Then we headed over to look at the cows being judged and to go over to the birthing center. We saw baby chicks, newborn calves, and Billy got to watch three little pigs be born. He could have cared less. The bleachers were more interesting than the pigs. Well, Mommy liked the pigs.
Then we headed back to the petting zoo to meet up with a friend with two little boys, one about Billy's age. They walked around and looked at all of the animals together. After Billy saw the other little boy, T, run up to touch a baby duck, Billy decided that the little duckling wasn't so scary after all.
From the animals it was off for some tractor rides! Okay, they weren't real tractors. Just little pedals cars, but the boys had a great time playing on them. Unfortunately, Billy's feet didn't reach the pedals, so I pushed him around instead. He loved the tractors. I think he wants one. Daddy said he might get one for him soon. You know, there's an awfully big day coming up this month in Billy's life...
After the tractors and a quick bite to eat of fair food, we headed off for the rides. What's a fair without rides? First up was the merry-go-round. Billy sat on his horse expectantly, not knowing what would happen. When the ride started to move, his face lit up. But when that horse started to go up and down as the ride went round and round, his smile went from ear to ear. I don't think I've ever seen him happier. Boy was that fun!
And, of course, he refused to smile for the picture.
After the merry-g-round we did some of the other kiddie rides- flying elephants, flying bananas (what?), and the wiggle worm. Billy was too small for most of the rides. One more inch and he can ride by himself. One inch, folks.
We walked around the indoor exhibits (in the air conditioning) for awhile and then, to round out our fair experience, we took the boys to get ice cream. Freshly made ice cream over at the cow palace. They had baby cones, so that's what I got Billy. I opted for vanilla this time, since I still haven't gotten the chocolate out of his shirt from the beach. He ate the whole thing, cone and all.
The ice cream sent Billy into a sugar rush. He was up, down, running all around. Over, under the ropes for the ice cream line, hoping to score another cone.
But, it was time to go. So we went home and Billy said to me, "Mommy, I sleepy." Then he pretended to snore on my shoulder. I tried to feed him dinner. But he said, "Mommy, I sleepy. Bed?" And he went into his room and put himself to bed.
The animals he liked best were the alpacas. Although, he told me several times, "No, Mama. Llama." Yes, yes. We'll just go with llama for now. I know the difference, but to a one-year-old that's splitting hairs. (Llamas have long necks with shorter hair. Alpacas have shorter necks with longer hair. And their wild cousin, the vicuna (v-eye-coon-ya) is smaller and looks more like an elk than a llama.- from my trip to Peru.)
One alpaca really liked Billy. It made a chirping noise to him. With all of the llama/alpaca/vicunas I met in Peru, I never once heard any of them make noise. But, apparently, at least this one chirped.
Then we headed over to look at the cows being judged and to go over to the birthing center. We saw baby chicks, newborn calves, and Billy got to watch three little pigs be born. He could have cared less. The bleachers were more interesting than the pigs. Well, Mommy liked the pigs.
Then we headed back to the petting zoo to meet up with a friend with two little boys, one about Billy's age. They walked around and looked at all of the animals together. After Billy saw the other little boy, T, run up to touch a baby duck, Billy decided that the little duckling wasn't so scary after all.
From the animals it was off for some tractor rides! Okay, they weren't real tractors. Just little pedals cars, but the boys had a great time playing on them. Unfortunately, Billy's feet didn't reach the pedals, so I pushed him around instead. He loved the tractors. I think he wants one. Daddy said he might get one for him soon. You know, there's an awfully big day coming up this month in Billy's life...
After the tractors and a quick bite to eat of fair food, we headed off for the rides. What's a fair without rides? First up was the merry-go-round. Billy sat on his horse expectantly, not knowing what would happen. When the ride started to move, his face lit up. But when that horse started to go up and down as the ride went round and round, his smile went from ear to ear. I don't think I've ever seen him happier. Boy was that fun!
And, of course, he refused to smile for the picture.
After the merry-g-round we did some of the other kiddie rides- flying elephants, flying bananas (what?), and the wiggle worm. Billy was too small for most of the rides. One more inch and he can ride by himself. One inch, folks.
We walked around the indoor exhibits (in the air conditioning) for awhile and then, to round out our fair experience, we took the boys to get ice cream. Freshly made ice cream over at the cow palace. They had baby cones, so that's what I got Billy. I opted for vanilla this time, since I still haven't gotten the chocolate out of his shirt from the beach. He ate the whole thing, cone and all.
The ice cream sent Billy into a sugar rush. He was up, down, running all around. Over, under the ropes for the ice cream line, hoping to score another cone.
But, it was time to go. So we went home and Billy said to me, "Mommy, I sleepy." Then he pretended to snore on my shoulder. I tried to feed him dinner. But he said, "Mommy, I sleepy. Bed?" And he went into his room and put himself to bed.
Friday, August 31, 2012
August 30, 2012 ~ Love/Hate Relationships with Toys
He loves it. I hate it. That damn toy lawn mower, I mean.
"Do you want to eat?" "No. Mow."
"Do you want to use the potty?" "No. Mow."
"Do you want to watch Elmo?" "No. Mow."
"Do you want a cookie?" "Cookie, then mow?"
He wants to sleep with it. He wants to cuddle it. He won't put it down. Epic meltdown ensues when things like diaper changing have to take place. He loves it. I hate it. But at least it keeps him occupied, right?
"Do you want to eat?" "No. Mow."
"Do you want to use the potty?" "No. Mow."
"Do you want to watch Elmo?" "No. Mow."
"Do you want a cookie?" "Cookie, then mow?"
He wants to sleep with it. He wants to cuddle it. He won't put it down. Epic meltdown ensues when things like diaper changing have to take place. He loves it. I hate it. But at least it keeps him occupied, right?
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Please Help
A woman on one of the discussion boards I hang out on has been missing her children for a year and a half. Her two middle children went for a routine visit with their father and never returned. Because it is a family kidnapping, law enforcement has not been pushing the case and no Amber Alert was issued.
A number of us mommy bloggers (I won't say which site, but I may have a link to it from my blog) started this past week writing to news agencies to get the word out. Yesterday, CNN and TruTV ran stories about the missing children.
Please watch the video and spread the word, especially to people living in Georgia, South Carolina, and neighboring states. No Mom should be without her kids.
http://www.cnn.com/video/?/video/bestoftv/2012/08/29/exp-find-our-children.cnn
A number of us mommy bloggers (I won't say which site, but I may have a link to it from my blog) started this past week writing to news agencies to get the word out. Yesterday, CNN and TruTV ran stories about the missing children.
Please watch the video and spread the word, especially to people living in Georgia, South Carolina, and neighboring states. No Mom should be without her kids.
http://www.cnn.com/video/?/video/bestoftv/2012/08/29/exp-find-our-children.cnn
August 29, 2012 ~ Lolas and Lawn Mowers
Drawn In Thursdays will return next week...
Billy began his morning begging me for a lola. What the heck could he mean? (In my head I might have used stronger language, but let's keep it clean). "Sit lola?" So I'm thinking.. things you sit on... sofas, chairs, the floor, in the car, in a swing, in a stroller... Wait. "Do you want to sit in the stroller?" "Yes! Lola!" Okay, apparently lola=stroller. Wouldn't it be awesome if in the Mommy Handbook there was a dictionary of toddler terms? Wouldn't it be awesome if there was a Mommy Handbook?
After a long walk in the stroller Billy passed out, long before naptime, but I packed him off to bed anyway, sans lunch and all. He was tired.
After nap he went on a big adventure to the pet store to buy some stuff for Buddy. We walked in and headed for the fish first. Had to go look at the fish- it's almost like going to the aquarium, but free! He turned the corner and there was a wall of fish. And what did he do?
Screamed at the top of his lungs. All of the employees came running, sure that some baby was being murdered in Aisle 5. Nope. It's okay. He's just excited about the fish. Nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.
After the pet store toddler mania Grandma, who had come along, suggested a stop at the new Froyo store. (That's frozen yogurt). Billy was not about to turn sown an opportunity to eat ice cream, so off we went.
This new place is a self-serve style. You grab your own cup, fill it with your choice of 12 different flavors- as many as you want and as much as you want- then add whatever toppings you like. They charge by weight. So you weigh it an pay. I gave Billy his cup and put a little peach yogurt and some chocolate in his cup- not together (one size cup, it's huge). Then I let him choose chocolate or rainbow sprinkles. He wanted rainbow. I fixed my own and Grandma got one too. And they gave Billy a sticker at checkout. Then we headed outside to eat.
He tried both flavors in his. Then he grabbed the spoon from me and tried mine. Then he put his own spoon in Grandma's cup and tried hers. Then he ate all of his, ate more of mine, and scooped out all of the candy from Grandma's cup to eat it, then ate half of her yogurt too. I think he liked it.
When we were done I took him back inside to wash up. When we came out of the bathroom, he saw the stand of self-serve cups and went to grab one. "Mommy, more?!" Um, no.
After our treat we headed over the the Dollar General (it's like a five and dime) to look for a toy boat. No toy boats. But we did find a toy fire truck. Grandma promised Billy to buy him a fire truck over two weeks ago and every time he sees her he asks for that fire truck. So we found a really cool one with lights and sound and a big, telescoping ladder. They also had toy lawn mowers. He pushed it up and down the store and thought it was the best thing ever.
That might be the best $2.50 I've ever spent. We got home and he pushed it around the house for an hour, without needing Mommy to play with him. It's just a red plastic mower, no lights, no sound other than a clacking when it moves, but it is all kinds of Mommy awesome.
Then he asks, "Mommy, George mow?" George mows Grandma's lawn, and we were at Grandma's. He hasn't seen or heard about George in over a month. But he remembered George. And, luckily George showed up to mow. So Billy went outside and pushed his mower around while George drove the tractor around to mow.
Billy loves his mower. He wanted to take it to bed with him. We had major epic meltdown about not sleeping with the lawn mower. I let him take toys to bed, but I had to draw a line at the lawn mower, as big as he is, made of cheap plastic- and it's a lawn mower. Sorry, dude. You can't cuddle your lawn mower.
Billy began his morning begging me for a lola. What the heck could he mean? (In my head I might have used stronger language, but let's keep it clean). "Sit lola?" So I'm thinking.. things you sit on... sofas, chairs, the floor, in the car, in a swing, in a stroller... Wait. "Do you want to sit in the stroller?" "Yes! Lola!" Okay, apparently lola=stroller. Wouldn't it be awesome if in the Mommy Handbook there was a dictionary of toddler terms? Wouldn't it be awesome if there was a Mommy Handbook?
After a long walk in the stroller Billy passed out, long before naptime, but I packed him off to bed anyway, sans lunch and all. He was tired.
After nap he went on a big adventure to the pet store to buy some stuff for Buddy. We walked in and headed for the fish first. Had to go look at the fish- it's almost like going to the aquarium, but free! He turned the corner and there was a wall of fish. And what did he do?
Screamed at the top of his lungs. All of the employees came running, sure that some baby was being murdered in Aisle 5. Nope. It's okay. He's just excited about the fish. Nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.
After the pet store toddler mania Grandma, who had come along, suggested a stop at the new Froyo store. (That's frozen yogurt). Billy was not about to turn sown an opportunity to eat ice cream, so off we went.
This new place is a self-serve style. You grab your own cup, fill it with your choice of 12 different flavors- as many as you want and as much as you want- then add whatever toppings you like. They charge by weight. So you weigh it an pay. I gave Billy his cup and put a little peach yogurt and some chocolate in his cup- not together (one size cup, it's huge). Then I let him choose chocolate or rainbow sprinkles. He wanted rainbow. I fixed my own and Grandma got one too. And they gave Billy a sticker at checkout. Then we headed outside to eat.
He tried both flavors in his. Then he grabbed the spoon from me and tried mine. Then he put his own spoon in Grandma's cup and tried hers. Then he ate all of his, ate more of mine, and scooped out all of the candy from Grandma's cup to eat it, then ate half of her yogurt too. I think he liked it.
When we were done I took him back inside to wash up. When we came out of the bathroom, he saw the stand of self-serve cups and went to grab one. "Mommy, more?!" Um, no.
After our treat we headed over the the Dollar General (it's like a five and dime) to look for a toy boat. No toy boats. But we did find a toy fire truck. Grandma promised Billy to buy him a fire truck over two weeks ago and every time he sees her he asks for that fire truck. So we found a really cool one with lights and sound and a big, telescoping ladder. They also had toy lawn mowers. He pushed it up and down the store and thought it was the best thing ever.
That might be the best $2.50 I've ever spent. We got home and he pushed it around the house for an hour, without needing Mommy to play with him. It's just a red plastic mower, no lights, no sound other than a clacking when it moves, but it is all kinds of Mommy awesome.
Then he asks, "Mommy, George mow?" George mows Grandma's lawn, and we were at Grandma's. He hasn't seen or heard about George in over a month. But he remembered George. And, luckily George showed up to mow. So Billy went outside and pushed his mower around while George drove the tractor around to mow.
Billy loves his mower. He wanted to take it to bed with him. We had major epic meltdown about not sleeping with the lawn mower. I let him take toys to bed, but I had to draw a line at the lawn mower, as big as he is, made of cheap plastic- and it's a lawn mower. Sorry, dude. You can't cuddle your lawn mower.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
August 28, 2012 ~ Allergic to Fleas
Grandpop is going to kill me but... he's got fleas. No, no. Not Grandpop himself. But his dogs, and therefore his house. Not a lot. Just a few. But it's enough.
I guess they don't play on the floor with the dogs all that often, so haven't noticed. But with a lil one in tow, I'm on the floor all of the time. And there are fleas on the floor. I've got the bites to prove it. So does Billy.
And yesterday Billy broke out into hives. He had them again today. I knew the doctor couldn't really do anything for him- you've got hives- but I took him anyway, just it case. The likely culprit? Flea bites.
I didn't even know you could be allergic to fleas. But given the welts Billy gets from mosquito bites, I can't say I'm surprised. So, yeah, Billy appears to be allergic to Eastern Shore Fleas.
~
A funny story for you from my past...
That same house at the beach was empty for a number of years, including the year I graduated from high school. So a good friend and I drove down, intending to stay there for Senior Week right after graduation. We arrived late at night and hauled everything up into a bedroom to unpack. Just then, we noticed the floor was hopping. Like the floor was a giant vibrating speaker hopping. When I say fleas, I mean FLEAS. That area has a big problem with fleas. And since the house had been empty, it was full of them. We drove out to an open gas station- about the only thing open at that hour- and bought a box of trash bags to seal all of our stuff into. When we were finished, flea-bitten and exhausted, we cuddled up into my friend's compact car in the driveway and fell fast asleep until morning, when we sought out other accomodations.
And that's my flea story...
I guess they don't play on the floor with the dogs all that often, so haven't noticed. But with a lil one in tow, I'm on the floor all of the time. And there are fleas on the floor. I've got the bites to prove it. So does Billy.
And yesterday Billy broke out into hives. He had them again today. I knew the doctor couldn't really do anything for him- you've got hives- but I took him anyway, just it case. The likely culprit? Flea bites.
I didn't even know you could be allergic to fleas. But given the welts Billy gets from mosquito bites, I can't say I'm surprised. So, yeah, Billy appears to be allergic to Eastern Shore Fleas.
~
A funny story for you from my past...
That same house at the beach was empty for a number of years, including the year I graduated from high school. So a good friend and I drove down, intending to stay there for Senior Week right after graduation. We arrived late at night and hauled everything up into a bedroom to unpack. Just then, we noticed the floor was hopping. Like the floor was a giant vibrating speaker hopping. When I say fleas, I mean FLEAS. That area has a big problem with fleas. And since the house had been empty, it was full of them. We drove out to an open gas station- about the only thing open at that hour- and bought a box of trash bags to seal all of our stuff into. When we were finished, flea-bitten and exhausted, we cuddled up into my friend's compact car in the driveway and fell fast asleep until morning, when we sought out other accomodations.
And that's my flea story...
August 27, 2012 ~ Mommy Guilt Pie
It's true. I had the day off and instead of playing with my baby (big boy, Mommy!) I packed him off to daycare and went home to do stuff sans Billy. Eating a big piece of Mommy Guilt Pie.
As much as I'd like to stay home with him and hang out, I had stuff to do. And let's face it. With him around it would have taken three days to accomplish everything I got done in one. I know, that's terrible, right? But it's true. He always wants to help, but often his "helping" is unhelpful as it can get.
Argh.
Serve me up another slice of Mommy Guilt Pie, please.
As much as I'd like to stay home with him and hang out, I had stuff to do. And let's face it. With him around it would have taken three days to accomplish everything I got done in one. I know, that's terrible, right? But it's true. He always wants to help, but often his "helping" is unhelpful as it can get.
Argh.
Serve me up another slice of Mommy Guilt Pie, please.
Monday, August 27, 2012
August 26, 2012 ~ Billy the Beach Bum
So, if you read Friday's post you'll know that I drove to the beach Friday night with a few hijinks.
Best laid plans...
What better way to spend your beach weekend, than cooped up in the house because of constant thunderstorms- 24 hours of them straight. No joke. Not a whole lot of beach fun going on there. So, we hung out at Grandpop's with Nana and the dogs (and Grandpop). It was probably a good thing to have a lazy day. Although, Billy was up bright and early and only took an hour nap. Too much exciting stuff to do.
On a great note, Grandpop's house is the quintessential NOT baby-proofed house. Antiques and breakables everywhere, two staircases to the second floor with no baby gates, electric outlets everywhere without covers- you know, a helicopter mom's worst nightmare. He did fine. Except for attempting to escape to go for a walk by himself in the pouring rain (yep), but other than that he waited for Mommy for the steps and pointed out all of the "no touch".
I did let him jump in the puddles. Boy was that fun. We live on a hill, so we don't get puddles. Grandpop had lots of puddles. Billy had the best time running in the puddles. (Actually, we received over 5 inches of rain, and driving around I noticed parking lots turned into lakes and businesses under water. So, while it was fun for the little one, there is a lot of mess and clean up to do on the Eastern Shore. It was hard on the heart to see.)
Well, there was no way I was going to take Billy to the beach and not actually GO to the beach. I had intended to take him Saturday and then pack up early and head home on Sunday. Revamp the plans! By 6:30 Sunday morning the thunderstorms stopped (ask youself how I know what time, go on...) So, Grandpop, Billy and I hopped in the car and headed to the beach on Sunday morning.
I wish I had the photos from the sunscreen debacle, but they are on Grandpop's camera. Let's just say that Billy helped apply sunscreen to himself, and, well, he looked like he dunked his head in a vat of the stuff...
Off to the water. "Pool, Mommy?"
This kid loves the water. He wanted to run right into the ocean. Thanks to Isaac, the ocean was extra rough, so I had to keep him right at the water's edge. I mean REALLY rough. Did Billy like it?
We played in the ocean. We watched the boats go by. We built sand castles. Visited with cousins. (Yes, I have cousins everywhere.) And what day at the beach isn't complete without this...
I asked him. Do you like the beach? "Mommy, I LIKE it!" he said.
Best laid plans...
What better way to spend your beach weekend, than cooped up in the house because of constant thunderstorms- 24 hours of them straight. No joke. Not a whole lot of beach fun going on there. So, we hung out at Grandpop's with Nana and the dogs (and Grandpop). It was probably a good thing to have a lazy day. Although, Billy was up bright and early and only took an hour nap. Too much exciting stuff to do.
On a great note, Grandpop's house is the quintessential NOT baby-proofed house. Antiques and breakables everywhere, two staircases to the second floor with no baby gates, electric outlets everywhere without covers- you know, a helicopter mom's worst nightmare. He did fine. Except for attempting to escape to go for a walk by himself in the pouring rain (yep), but other than that he waited for Mommy for the steps and pointed out all of the "no touch".
I did let him jump in the puddles. Boy was that fun. We live on a hill, so we don't get puddles. Grandpop had lots of puddles. Billy had the best time running in the puddles. (Actually, we received over 5 inches of rain, and driving around I noticed parking lots turned into lakes and businesses under water. So, while it was fun for the little one, there is a lot of mess and clean up to do on the Eastern Shore. It was hard on the heart to see.)
Well, there was no way I was going to take Billy to the beach and not actually GO to the beach. I had intended to take him Saturday and then pack up early and head home on Sunday. Revamp the plans! By 6:30 Sunday morning the thunderstorms stopped (ask youself how I know what time, go on...) So, Grandpop, Billy and I hopped in the car and headed to the beach on Sunday morning.
I wish I had the photos from the sunscreen debacle, but they are on Grandpop's camera. Let's just say that Billy helped apply sunscreen to himself, and, well, he looked like he dunked his head in a vat of the stuff...
Off to the water. "Pool, Mommy?"
This kid loves the water. He wanted to run right into the ocean. Thanks to Isaac, the ocean was extra rough, so I had to keep him right at the water's edge. I mean REALLY rough. Did Billy like it?
We played in the ocean. We watched the boats go by. We built sand castles. Visited with cousins. (Yes, I have cousins everywhere.) And what day at the beach isn't complete without this...
I asked him. Do you like the beach? "Mommy, I LIKE it!" he said.
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