First, what the hell is a toddler rail?
It's an accessory to the crib. You remove the front panel of the crib and replace it with the toddler rail. It's similar to the front panel, only shorter and has a section of bars cut away so that the toddler can climb in and out on their own. They also make toddler rails for adult sized beds. The idea being that they can get in and out on their own, but the rail part of it helps keep them from falling out of bed at night.
I don't know about you, but I grew up without one and turned out just fine. (Minus a few ticks and the fact that I'm nuts... juuuuuuuuuuuust kidding!).
But there we were in the expensive baby store (no, actually, it was not Babys'R'Us) looking around at all of the beautiful baby furniture. Daddy and I had differing opinions on cribs. He wanted a black sleigh bed crib. I wanted a white anything-but-a-sleigh-bed crib. We compromised and bought a white sleigh bed crib.
Once the crib was picked out then there were the options of matching furniture. We passed on that, opting to look for other pieces elsewhere. The nice thing about white furniture is that it matches other white furniture. So, you don't have to buy the set. That worked out because we found some awesome other pieces later.
Back to the crib. Then we had to decide if we wanted the toddler rail and the bed converter kit (converts the crib into a double bed). What to do?
And there I was, bulbous, glowing like the shine on new baby toys, needing to pee, sit down, eat something and pee again. And trying to decide what's best for baby on the way. There we were paying lots of money for a beautiful crib, and the idea of getting to keep the little bundle of joy in it longer seemed like such a wonderful notion. How could be not? And, we're being safe and neurotic parents by having the rail to prevent falls, right?
(By the way, we did not buy the converter kit. Daddy said no son of his would sleep in a white bed. I was thinking more along the lines of preparing for baby number 2- and no, Sheila, I'm not pregnant. I figured by the time Billy was ready for a bigger bed, we'd need the crib for number 2.)
Well, we just installed the toddler rail on the crib. It was easy to install, at least on our model of crib. I'm not a fan of how it looks. They cheaped out on making it (the manufacturer) and the rail does not go to the top of the sides or all the way to the floor. So, it looks like it's just jammed on the front. But Billy likes it so far. He slept like a baby in his new "big boy" bed.
Is this better than a toddler bed? Probably about the same. Better than a twin mattress on the floor? Maybe a little nicer looking. I think it just depends on your taste. At least, he's comfortable with sleeping in it, since it's still his old crib, just converted to a bed now. And since we don't have baby on the way, we need some place to store the crib. Storing only the front panel is much easier than the whole thing. So, there's that.
Now, without the stars of pregnancy in my eyes, I'm not entirely sold on the toddler rail, except that we already bought it so we'll use it. More than anything, I'm not so sure about this free-range toddler concept. Billy on the loose? I'm going to have to sleep with one eye open!
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Saturday, November 10, 2012
November 9, 2012 ~ A Sh*tty Day and That's Okay!
Yes, it's been quite a sh*tty day. And that's okay. You know what? It's more than okay. It's good. It's great. It's awesome!
Call it whatever you will. Sh*t. Crap. POOP. We've got it.
It just all depends on where you've got it. When the sh*t hits the fan, well... you know. But when the sh*t hits the toilet... that's a whole other story.
And that's where we've got it. Yep. It's official. There's poop in the potty. POOP!
Leave it to me to write a whole story about the stinky stuff, but here goes:
It was bedtime. As part of the bedtime routine, Billy has to use the potty. We've been successful so far. When I ask him to go, that is. We're not so successful with him knowing when he needs to go. So, off to the potty.
We achieved the standard pee. I told me he was going for poop this time. There's a promised chocolate cookie if he can make poop in the potty. So far, no success. He scrunched up his face in the "poop face" and made his best poop grunt.
Sad face. "No poop, Mommy."
But then he stood up. And... voile! POOP!
He was so excited that he did a little poop dance. He got to flush it away with more cheers. (Flushing is his favorite part).
"More poop, Mommy!" So he sat back down and popped out another. This required more flushing. We repeated the process so that in the matter of 10 minutes the toilet had been flushed 8 times. Well, the price of success.
We did have a little accident on the floor in all the excitement, but can you blame him? There were high fives and chocolate rocks and chocolate cookies all around. All because of poop.
He announced to me that, "Mommy, now Billy big boy. I poop potty." It's all about the poop.
Call it whatever you will. Sh*t. Crap. POOP. We've got it.
It just all depends on where you've got it. When the sh*t hits the fan, well... you know. But when the sh*t hits the toilet... that's a whole other story.
And that's where we've got it. Yep. It's official. There's poop in the potty. POOP!
Leave it to me to write a whole story about the stinky stuff, but here goes:
It was bedtime. As part of the bedtime routine, Billy has to use the potty. We've been successful so far. When I ask him to go, that is. We're not so successful with him knowing when he needs to go. So, off to the potty.
We achieved the standard pee. I told me he was going for poop this time. There's a promised chocolate cookie if he can make poop in the potty. So far, no success. He scrunched up his face in the "poop face" and made his best poop grunt.
Sad face. "No poop, Mommy."
But then he stood up. And... voile! POOP!
He was so excited that he did a little poop dance. He got to flush it away with more cheers. (Flushing is his favorite part).
"More poop, Mommy!" So he sat back down and popped out another. This required more flushing. We repeated the process so that in the matter of 10 minutes the toilet had been flushed 8 times. Well, the price of success.
We did have a little accident on the floor in all the excitement, but can you blame him? There were high fives and chocolate rocks and chocolate cookies all around. All because of poop.
He announced to me that, "Mommy, now Billy big boy. I poop potty." It's all about the poop.
Friday, November 9, 2012
November 8, 2012 ~ First Trip to the Dentist
Okay, so actually he went to the dentist on Wednesday, but that's the Drawn In post, so here's the story from the dentist...
We picked a dentist just for kids. I wasn't sure about this. I go to a dentist in an old house with living room furniture from some grandmother's house in the waiting room. It's typical to hear the sounds of drills wafting into the waiting room from the back. No screaming. Just drills. And it's eerily quiet.Too quiet. Helps get that blood pressure up to be just an extra bit nervous about having all of your teeth ripped from your head. You know, the typical trip to the dentist.
So we walk in and they have a two story castle built into the waiting room, with activity tables, books, monitors with Nintendo games, and TVs mounted up onto the walls playing Stuart Little. Awe. Some. Is Billy impressed? YES.
Then we go into another play room for the initial consult. Here's where the hygienist asks me questions about his dental health. And he gets to watch more of Stuart Little (playing simul-cast throughout the multiple rooms of the office) and play with toys.
Next, it's sticker time!
Wait...what? Where are the sounds of drills and the smell of anesthesia? Stickers? Too friendly. Elmo stickers? Ooh, breaking out the big guns.
Then it's time for the actual examination.
Billy gets to sit in my lap on a chair and lay back so his head is in the hygienist's lap. First she shows off her extra special "tissue" that goes over her face because she's "sneezy". Then she shows him her pink gloves that reek of strawberries. Apparently, they are flavored too. I'm too chicken to lick them to find out.
Billy's not fooled. He knows gloves and he knows masks. These people are silly. They've been playing in the costume bin. (Yep. We've got one of those at home).
Still, no sounds of drills. This is getting out of hand.
Then she brushes his teeth, singing. He's nervous there in my lap and holds onto my hands. But he doesn't cry, doesn't make a sound, and sits perfectly still.
He's rewarded for his effort with five more stickers. Okay. Where's the fear? The high blood pressure? I think we've walked into the wrong office. Clearly, this is not a dentist's office.
Now it's time for the dentist to come over. She too has been digging in the costume bin, but she has come up with purple gloves that smell and taste like grapes. Let's not forget that mask.
She sings the special dentist song while poking at his teeth with the dental pick- you know that standard instrument of torture. No pain here. No screams of horror. Just a gentle check of his teeth. Billy sits calmly while she goes over his mouth, checks him out, and then polishes up those pearly whites.
As a reward the dentist gives him a giant sticker and two dinosaurs- that he got to pick out himself from the bucket 'o' toys. He also got his little bag to take home with a toothbrush and flossing sticks.
He liked the stickers and the dinosaurs (who wouldn't?) but the sparkly green toothbrush put it over the top. That's his favorite thing from the dentist.
Whoa! What... Was this visit- dare I say it- pleasant? How is that possible?
There has to be a catch somewhere. Yep. Here it comes. The dentist slaps a giant "super mom" sticker on me. Apparently, I did a good job getting Billy comfortable and interested in dental hygiene. Normally (according to the dentist) the first visit involves tears, tantrums, and ear-splitting screams. Not Billy.
Nope. His was a pleasant visit. This might be a first ever in the history of dentistry. Could be. Just saying. (My how dentistry has changed.)
We picked a dentist just for kids. I wasn't sure about this. I go to a dentist in an old house with living room furniture from some grandmother's house in the waiting room. It's typical to hear the sounds of drills wafting into the waiting room from the back. No screaming. Just drills. And it's eerily quiet.Too quiet. Helps get that blood pressure up to be just an extra bit nervous about having all of your teeth ripped from your head. You know, the typical trip to the dentist.
So we walk in and they have a two story castle built into the waiting room, with activity tables, books, monitors with Nintendo games, and TVs mounted up onto the walls playing Stuart Little. Awe. Some. Is Billy impressed? YES.
Then we go into another play room for the initial consult. Here's where the hygienist asks me questions about his dental health. And he gets to watch more of Stuart Little (playing simul-cast throughout the multiple rooms of the office) and play with toys.
Next, it's sticker time!
Wait...what? Where are the sounds of drills and the smell of anesthesia? Stickers? Too friendly. Elmo stickers? Ooh, breaking out the big guns.
Then it's time for the actual examination.
Billy gets to sit in my lap on a chair and lay back so his head is in the hygienist's lap. First she shows off her extra special "tissue" that goes over her face because she's "sneezy". Then she shows him her pink gloves that reek of strawberries. Apparently, they are flavored too. I'm too chicken to lick them to find out.
Billy's not fooled. He knows gloves and he knows masks. These people are silly. They've been playing in the costume bin. (Yep. We've got one of those at home).
Still, no sounds of drills. This is getting out of hand.
Then she brushes his teeth, singing. He's nervous there in my lap and holds onto my hands. But he doesn't cry, doesn't make a sound, and sits perfectly still.
He's rewarded for his effort with five more stickers. Okay. Where's the fear? The high blood pressure? I think we've walked into the wrong office. Clearly, this is not a dentist's office.
Now it's time for the dentist to come over. She too has been digging in the costume bin, but she has come up with purple gloves that smell and taste like grapes. Let's not forget that mask.
She sings the special dentist song while poking at his teeth with the dental pick- you know that standard instrument of torture. No pain here. No screams of horror. Just a gentle check of his teeth. Billy sits calmly while she goes over his mouth, checks him out, and then polishes up those pearly whites.
As a reward the dentist gives him a giant sticker and two dinosaurs- that he got to pick out himself from the bucket 'o' toys. He also got his little bag to take home with a toothbrush and flossing sticks.
He liked the stickers and the dinosaurs (who wouldn't?) but the sparkly green toothbrush put it over the top. That's his favorite thing from the dentist.
Whoa! What... Was this visit- dare I say it- pleasant? How is that possible?
There has to be a catch somewhere. Yep. Here it comes. The dentist slaps a giant "super mom" sticker on me. Apparently, I did a good job getting Billy comfortable and interested in dental hygiene. Normally (according to the dentist) the first visit involves tears, tantrums, and ear-splitting screams. Not Billy.
Nope. His was a pleasant visit. This might be a first ever in the history of dentistry. Could be. Just saying. (My how dentistry has changed.)
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
November 6, 2012 ~ Everyone's Doing It...Voting!
Everyone's doing it...voting!
And Billy voted too. Well, he helped Mommy. We went up to our local polling place with Daddy first thing this morning and stood in line for our opportunity to participate in democracy.
I tried to explain to Billy about how we're going to pick between two men to be our next leader. Then Daddy told him we were picking between Elmo and Mickey Mouse. Which did he prefer? Billy chose to remain silent on that question. It's a tough choice, and neither one is wrong, it's just a matter of preference.
He was very patient waiting. It was a big day- a big opportunity. And there were lions. Roar! Yep. The lobby of the polling place was decorated with lions. That helped with the boredom.
It's never too early to take an interest in politics. In fact, this isn't Billy's first time voting. He voted two years ago. I have proof:
(Billy, voting, at 4 weeks old)
And here's the proof from today:
And now it's like Christmas Eve, waiting to find out what we'll unwrap tomorrow. Billy won't care, but at least he gets participation points!
And Billy voted too. Well, he helped Mommy. We went up to our local polling place with Daddy first thing this morning and stood in line for our opportunity to participate in democracy.
I tried to explain to Billy about how we're going to pick between two men to be our next leader. Then Daddy told him we were picking between Elmo and Mickey Mouse. Which did he prefer? Billy chose to remain silent on that question. It's a tough choice, and neither one is wrong, it's just a matter of preference.
He was very patient waiting. It was a big day- a big opportunity. And there were lions. Roar! Yep. The lobby of the polling place was decorated with lions. That helped with the boredom.
It's never too early to take an interest in politics. In fact, this isn't Billy's first time voting. He voted two years ago. I have proof:
And here's the proof from today:
And now it's like Christmas Eve, waiting to find out what we'll unwrap tomorrow. Billy won't care, but at least he gets participation points!
Monday, November 5, 2012
November 5, 2012 ~ Why I bought an iphone
First, I've gotten a lot of comments about yesterday's post and about pulling Billy from daycare. We absolutely love our daycare, except for this one class. Keeping in mind that he will likely be bumped in 4 months, we're going to first go to the director about this, before moving to another school.
The iphone- it's not for me. Nope. I hardly use it, except to play sudoku (bit of a numbers junkie over here). Nope. Not me. "Is Billy's phone!" he tells me.
"Mommy, Gandpa tv?" That would be him asking for me to face time with Grandpop. Which I get asked- a lot.
"Mommy, picture Billy?" That would be him asking me to take pictures of him. He's a ham, what can I say?
"Mommy, Lolli? Ba Ba?"
Ah, yes. The newest obsession.
I made the mistake of introducing Billy to youtube. First, there was the video if the Chordettes singing Lollipop. That's the Lolli song. Then we moved on to the Beach Boys and Barbara Ann. That would be Ba Ba. And today, having listened to Lollipop for the 1,397,574,392,999 time this week (and counting) I introduced him to the Byrds.
We were playing with his musical instruments and I picked up the tambourine. This, of course, called for me singing (loudly and off-key) "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me, lala lala I forget the words, la la la la...!" Wait, there's a jingle-jangle in there somewhere, right? Let's ask youtube!
So, I pulled up a video (black and white of course) of the Byrds singing Tambourine Man. As Grandma pointed out, all of these black and white videos of bands performing famous songs are probably from the Ed Sullivan Show. Sure, Grandma... little before my time. But I'll run with it.
Now Billy loves the Tambourine Man and banged along with the Byrds on his little tambourine. "More, tamba Mommy!" He wanted the video to show more of the guy playing the tambourine.
But inevitably, he grew bored of that song and asked for, "Lolli, Mommy?"
Not again!
The iphone- it's not for me. Nope. I hardly use it, except to play sudoku (bit of a numbers junkie over here). Nope. Not me. "Is Billy's phone!" he tells me.
"Mommy, Gandpa tv?" That would be him asking for me to face time with Grandpop. Which I get asked- a lot.
"Mommy, picture Billy?" That would be him asking me to take pictures of him. He's a ham, what can I say?
"Mommy, Lolli? Ba Ba?"
Ah, yes. The newest obsession.
I made the mistake of introducing Billy to youtube. First, there was the video if the Chordettes singing Lollipop. That's the Lolli song. Then we moved on to the Beach Boys and Barbara Ann. That would be Ba Ba. And today, having listened to Lollipop for the 1,397,574,392,999 time this week (and counting) I introduced him to the Byrds.
We were playing with his musical instruments and I picked up the tambourine. This, of course, called for me singing (loudly and off-key) "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me, lala lala I forget the words, la la la la...!" Wait, there's a jingle-jangle in there somewhere, right? Let's ask youtube!
So, I pulled up a video (black and white of course) of the Byrds singing Tambourine Man. As Grandma pointed out, all of these black and white videos of bands performing famous songs are probably from the Ed Sullivan Show. Sure, Grandma... little before my time. But I'll run with it.
Now Billy loves the Tambourine Man and banged along with the Byrds on his little tambourine. "More, tamba Mommy!" He wanted the video to show more of the guy playing the tambourine.
But inevitably, he grew bored of that song and asked for, "Lolli, Mommy?"
Not again!
November 4, 2012 ~ Daycare Tribulations
Friday morning I took Billy into daycare and the teacher says to me. "You
know, your son has a real problem with hitting people in the face."
I know this. He was in time out in the parking lot for that very reason. It's his favorite way of letting me he's unhappy about not getting his way. I don't like it. He goes in time out.
Then she says (and I quote), "None of the other children in my class have EVER seen that. He's clearly learning it at home."
Wait. What? Did she just accuse me of violence at home. Is she accusing me of hitting my child? And she just dropped this bomb in front of ALL 12 kids sitting around the table eating breakfast, including my own? And they were all quiet, so they all heard it. And you're going to tell me that no child in your class has ever, EVER smacked another in the face. Really?
If there hadn't been a captive audience of children I might have had some choice words. But I said (which is the truth) we don't hit at home and I don't know where he learned it.
What I do know is it started about a week after he started in her class. And that before they moved him up to this room he loved school. But now it's a fight to go to school. He kicks and screams and begs me not to take him. They moved him up too early and he's the youngest kid in the room. He's not ready to be in there, but always getting in trouble for things like not listening and not sitting still. I have LOVED all of the other teachers at this school. They are awesome. I don't like this one though. She sends home snarky notes every week to me and finds ways to criticize Billy to me in front of him every week as well. It's downright mean.
And yes, I'll be addressing this issue with the director.
I know this. He was in time out in the parking lot for that very reason. It's his favorite way of letting me he's unhappy about not getting his way. I don't like it. He goes in time out.
Then she says (and I quote), "None of the other children in my class have EVER seen that. He's clearly learning it at home."
Wait. What? Did she just accuse me of violence at home. Is she accusing me of hitting my child? And she just dropped this bomb in front of ALL 12 kids sitting around the table eating breakfast, including my own? And they were all quiet, so they all heard it. And you're going to tell me that no child in your class has ever, EVER smacked another in the face. Really?
If there hadn't been a captive audience of children I might have had some choice words. But I said (which is the truth) we don't hit at home and I don't know where he learned it.
What I do know is it started about a week after he started in her class. And that before they moved him up to this room he loved school. But now it's a fight to go to school. He kicks and screams and begs me not to take him. They moved him up too early and he's the youngest kid in the room. He's not ready to be in there, but always getting in trouble for things like not listening and not sitting still. I have LOVED all of the other teachers at this school. They are awesome. I don't like this one though. She sends home snarky notes every week to me and finds ways to criticize Billy to me in front of him every week as well. It's downright mean.
And yes, I'll be addressing this issue with the director.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Crazy Creative ~ Carving Pumpkins
Every year I get asked how I carve my pumpkins. They're not exceptional- I've seen some really amazing carved pumpkin sculptures. I just do run of the mill jack-o-lanterns. But I do have a few tricks, so I will share them with you. And you don't need fancy tools or an art degree.
The tools:
a pencil
a small spoon
a large spoon
a vegetable peeler
a grapefruit knife
an apple corer
a cantalope knife
a 6" paring knife
a large, sharp knife
toothpicks
The steps:
1. choose which side of the pumpkin will be the face. Mark it so you remember.
2. Cut the "hat". AKA cut the top off where the stem is. Make a triangular notch in the hat at the back of the pumpkin. The notch, or hole, allows for maximum oxygen so that you get a really bright pumpkin when lit. It only needs to be about an inch wide. I use the large knife for this.
3. Gut the pumpkin. Save the seeds if you want to roast them- and they keep in the fridge for a few days prior to roating, in case you don't have time while you're carving. Use the two options of spoons for this.
4. Skinny up the front wall of the pumpkin by removing as much of the interior flesh as you can. Don't go thinner than 1/2 inch, though, or your pumpkin won't withstand the carving process.
5. Draw some faces on a piece of paper and get an idea of what you want to do (or look up ideas online). The shape of the pumpkin is important. Is the face long and skinny or short and fat? Long and skinny is good for a scared face. Fat is good for a happy smile. Are there any cool features to the pumpkin- lumps and bumps? Those could add to making a nose or a pimple in your design.
6. Once you've decided on your design, draw it onto the pumpkin. Remember that when you start to carve it you might not be able to precisely follow your pencil marks, so draw lightly.
7. Carve out your design using the paring knife and the grapefruit knife. The grapefruit knife is your best bet for almost all of your carving. Only use the paring knife for tough spots.
8. Now, you need to bevel your cuts. This means carving away the interior pumpkin flesh from your cuts so that you can't see the flesh from the outside. This makes your design clean and bright when lit.
9. Add any extra facial features- the apple corer works great for pimples. The vegetable peeler can add freckles, dimples or peel off the skin to make certain areas glow more. The toothpicks can hold fragile pieces in place or hold pieces onto the pumpkin to give dimension.
10. Test your pumpkin by lighting it inside first and clean up the cuts while lit- being careful not to tip the candle over. (Lit pumpkins are a fire hazard. Please be careful.)
Here are some of my pumpkins:
The tools:
a pencil
a small spoon
a large spoon
a vegetable peeler
a grapefruit knife
an apple corer
a cantalope knife
a 6" paring knife
a large, sharp knife
toothpicks
The steps:
1. choose which side of the pumpkin will be the face. Mark it so you remember.
2. Cut the "hat". AKA cut the top off where the stem is. Make a triangular notch in the hat at the back of the pumpkin. The notch, or hole, allows for maximum oxygen so that you get a really bright pumpkin when lit. It only needs to be about an inch wide. I use the large knife for this.
3. Gut the pumpkin. Save the seeds if you want to roast them- and they keep in the fridge for a few days prior to roating, in case you don't have time while you're carving. Use the two options of spoons for this.
4. Skinny up the front wall of the pumpkin by removing as much of the interior flesh as you can. Don't go thinner than 1/2 inch, though, or your pumpkin won't withstand the carving process.
5. Draw some faces on a piece of paper and get an idea of what you want to do (or look up ideas online). The shape of the pumpkin is important. Is the face long and skinny or short and fat? Long and skinny is good for a scared face. Fat is good for a happy smile. Are there any cool features to the pumpkin- lumps and bumps? Those could add to making a nose or a pimple in your design.
6. Once you've decided on your design, draw it onto the pumpkin. Remember that when you start to carve it you might not be able to precisely follow your pencil marks, so draw lightly.
7. Carve out your design using the paring knife and the grapefruit knife. The grapefruit knife is your best bet for almost all of your carving. Only use the paring knife for tough spots.
8. Now, you need to bevel your cuts. This means carving away the interior pumpkin flesh from your cuts so that you can't see the flesh from the outside. This makes your design clean and bright when lit.
9. Add any extra facial features- the apple corer works great for pimples. The vegetable peeler can add freckles, dimples or peel off the skin to make certain areas glow more. The toothpicks can hold fragile pieces in place or hold pieces onto the pumpkin to give dimension.
10. Test your pumpkin by lighting it inside first and clean up the cuts while lit- being careful not to tip the candle over. (Lit pumpkins are a fire hazard. Please be careful.)
Here are some of my pumpkins:
Friday, November 2, 2012
November 2, 2012 ~ The Ongoing Buddy Saga
This is Buddy.
This is the only post-op photo I have of Buddy on my camera. I have a few on my phone.
Last month Buddy had a cancerous tumor removed. So, as follow up we had an appointment with an oncologist. It happened to be on Halloween, but I'm still ranting over it- so here goes.
There are three options. 1.) surgery- the vet told me that no more skin could safely be removed from the area and that they did not get it all, but that more surgery was not an option. The oncologist disagreed and wanted to do another surgery. 2.) radiation- a three week course with temporary discomfort followed by a slim chance of major complications later. 3.) chemo- 6-8 months of being sick and unhappy with a 50/50 chance.
Okay, sure. Whatever it takes to save the Bud. Can't put a price on a family member, can you.
Yes I can.
The oncologist wanted to do a battery of tests right then and there, to the tune of 1400. Yes, that's right. Those were just the tests. Haven't even gotten to the treatment yet.
Then there's the cost of treatment. Surgery- 2400, radiation-6500 and chemo-5500. Don't forget to add the price of the tests for a final price of 4000-10000 for starters, barring any complications.
All this on a dog about to turn 12. Really?
Listen, I love my dog. So much. Billy loves him more than the world. That's his best friend. But the treatment costs for an old dog are just excessive. I want him happy and healthy. And if I can't get both, I'll settle for happy. He's not going to be happy about being treated. As proof of how much he hated the oncologist visit, he pooped on the sofa. Twice. In the same day. Yup. (I didn't even think he could get up on the sofa anymore.)
He will get a slim chance with a medication, that I plan on using, but I just have to rant about the price to give medical aid to man's best friend. And the worst part was that the prices for the same tests on humans are half the cost or less.
Someone suggested I do a fundraiser to help with the medical costs. But as I pointed out, in the wake of the tragedy that is Sandy, any money raised in a fundraiser needs to go to the victims of the storm. There are children tonight that are homeless and hungry and stuck in shelters. There are families without homes and cars and livelihoods. There are pets displaced and lost by the storm. There are people suffering. Really suffering. I can't ask people to help save an old dog, when so many people need immediate help.
So, Buddy will get some treatment and lots of extra treats.
Don't cry for Buddy. He's a good old dog that has led a good long life and won't leave us in the immediate future. Cry for the people of the East Coast. They're the ones that need it tonight.
This is the only post-op photo I have of Buddy on my camera. I have a few on my phone.
Last month Buddy had a cancerous tumor removed. So, as follow up we had an appointment with an oncologist. It happened to be on Halloween, but I'm still ranting over it- so here goes.
There are three options. 1.) surgery- the vet told me that no more skin could safely be removed from the area and that they did not get it all, but that more surgery was not an option. The oncologist disagreed and wanted to do another surgery. 2.) radiation- a three week course with temporary discomfort followed by a slim chance of major complications later. 3.) chemo- 6-8 months of being sick and unhappy with a 50/50 chance.
Okay, sure. Whatever it takes to save the Bud. Can't put a price on a family member, can you.
Yes I can.
The oncologist wanted to do a battery of tests right then and there, to the tune of 1400. Yes, that's right. Those were just the tests. Haven't even gotten to the treatment yet.
Then there's the cost of treatment. Surgery- 2400, radiation-6500 and chemo-5500. Don't forget to add the price of the tests for a final price of 4000-10000 for starters, barring any complications.
All this on a dog about to turn 12. Really?
Listen, I love my dog. So much. Billy loves him more than the world. That's his best friend. But the treatment costs for an old dog are just excessive. I want him happy and healthy. And if I can't get both, I'll settle for happy. He's not going to be happy about being treated. As proof of how much he hated the oncologist visit, he pooped on the sofa. Twice. In the same day. Yup. (I didn't even think he could get up on the sofa anymore.)
He will get a slim chance with a medication, that I plan on using, but I just have to rant about the price to give medical aid to man's best friend. And the worst part was that the prices for the same tests on humans are half the cost or less.
Someone suggested I do a fundraiser to help with the medical costs. But as I pointed out, in the wake of the tragedy that is Sandy, any money raised in a fundraiser needs to go to the victims of the storm. There are children tonight that are homeless and hungry and stuck in shelters. There are families without homes and cars and livelihoods. There are pets displaced and lost by the storm. There are people suffering. Really suffering. I can't ask people to help save an old dog, when so many people need immediate help.
So, Buddy will get some treatment and lots of extra treats.
Don't cry for Buddy. He's a good old dog that has led a good long life and won't leave us in the immediate future. Cry for the people of the East Coast. They're the ones that need it tonight.
November 1, 2012 ~ Lollipop, Lollipop
Do you remember the old song from way back when, "Lollipop?"
Well, as a treat Billy got to have one piece of candy when he got home from school. He selected a lollipop. This prompted me to break out into song. Only, I couldn't remember anything other than the chorus. Nevertheless, I belted it out off-key for him.
Billy laughed and asked, "Again?"
After a few more "agains" I remembered the new-fangled technology in my pocket and broke out my handy-dandy iPhone. Youtube quickly found for me a video of the original group singing the song live. In black and white, of course.
So, I turned it on and played it for Billy.
It was magical. Suddenly, the off-key song Mommy was singing was transformed into a fabulous song with musical back-up being sung for him right there in our kitchen. It was awe.some.
He insisted I play it over and over again. The first couple of times he just watched, mesmerized. Then he broke out into dance. He danced with his lollipop, singing Lollipop to the song Lollipop.
I'll post video later.
Oh yeah, another reason this is his favorite song- apple pie. What's better than a song that talks about lollipops and apple pie?
Well, as a treat Billy got to have one piece of candy when he got home from school. He selected a lollipop. This prompted me to break out into song. Only, I couldn't remember anything other than the chorus. Nevertheless, I belted it out off-key for him.
Billy laughed and asked, "Again?"
After a few more "agains" I remembered the new-fangled technology in my pocket and broke out my handy-dandy iPhone. Youtube quickly found for me a video of the original group singing the song live. In black and white, of course.
So, I turned it on and played it for Billy.
It was magical. Suddenly, the off-key song Mommy was singing was transformed into a fabulous song with musical back-up being sung for him right there in our kitchen. It was awe.some.
He insisted I play it over and over again. The first couple of times he just watched, mesmerized. Then he broke out into dance. He danced with his lollipop, singing Lollipop to the song Lollipop.
I'll post video later.
Oh yeah, another reason this is his favorite song- apple pie. What's better than a song that talks about lollipops and apple pie?
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
October 30, 2012 ~ So Long, Sandy
Well, we weathered the storm without any damage. It's true. We didn't even lose power. Wait, what? Didn't lose power??? Nope. That's a first. It flickered and blinked and continues to do so as crew work on neighboring lines, but we never lost power.
Perhaps the scariest was the howling of the wind, banging noisily on the outside of our house. That was Monday night. We saw neighbors shingles blowing through our yard and the wind pulled the siding off of the neighbor's house.
By Tuesday there was only drizzle left.
We were shocked. We were stunned. We were thankful. But really, we were let down. All that prepping. A camping lantern on every table. The heat turned up so make a buffer for when the power went out. Coolers prepped and ready and homemade ice ready to fill the coolers and keep the food. Bottles and bags of water on the counter ready for loss of water. We were ready.
As a show of solidarity to our harder hit neighbors to the north, we should have at least lost power. At least for fifteen minutes. Nope.
And work? A couple of inches of water in the street, but no major flooding. And it made the news for those few inches. Lame.
Stop showing inches and start showing the beaches, New Jersey, New York.
Here, though, it was a grateful let down.
But it did scare Billy. He was scared. He refused to sleep on Monday night. The wind and rain were so loud that he just cried in fear. "Are you scared?" I asked him. (Sometimes he won't sleep just because. "Big storm, Mommy."
I told him about the 'Big Storm'. Better he understand than not. It was all over the news. He wanted to go out and play but couldn't. He was missing school and didn't know why. And let's be honest, a big storm is scary to a little guy. But the wind subsided and he drifted off to sleep.
Now that it's over he likes to talk about it.
Billy has some wise words for you all about hurricanes:
"Don't touch Big Storm. It bites."
Our hearts and prayers go out to the people hardest hit by Sandy.
Perhaps the scariest was the howling of the wind, banging noisily on the outside of our house. That was Monday night. We saw neighbors shingles blowing through our yard and the wind pulled the siding off of the neighbor's house.
By Tuesday there was only drizzle left.
We were shocked. We were stunned. We were thankful. But really, we were let down. All that prepping. A camping lantern on every table. The heat turned up so make a buffer for when the power went out. Coolers prepped and ready and homemade ice ready to fill the coolers and keep the food. Bottles and bags of water on the counter ready for loss of water. We were ready.
As a show of solidarity to our harder hit neighbors to the north, we should have at least lost power. At least for fifteen minutes. Nope.
And work? A couple of inches of water in the street, but no major flooding. And it made the news for those few inches. Lame.
Stop showing inches and start showing the beaches, New Jersey, New York.
Here, though, it was a grateful let down.
But it did scare Billy. He was scared. He refused to sleep on Monday night. The wind and rain were so loud that he just cried in fear. "Are you scared?" I asked him. (Sometimes he won't sleep just because. "Big storm, Mommy."
I told him about the 'Big Storm'. Better he understand than not. It was all over the news. He wanted to go out and play but couldn't. He was missing school and didn't know why. And let's be honest, a big storm is scary to a little guy. But the wind subsided and he drifted off to sleep.
Now that it's over he likes to talk about it.
Billy has some wise words for you all about hurricanes:
"Don't touch Big Storm. It bites."
Our hearts and prayers go out to the people hardest hit by Sandy.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
October 29, 2012 ~ Buddy and the Balloon
This story is from Saturday, but since yesterday was pretty boring (minus the whole superstorm thing) I'll write about the balloon story...
Billy was playing with one of his birthday balloons, still inflated, although not floating anymore. It was a green regular balloon, not one of those mylar ones. And he was throwing it up in the air and chasing it around.
Well, Buddy decided to join in the fun and nosed the balloon down the hallway. I gave it a good kick back into the living room.
Just then Buddy jumped up in the air, bring the balloon down and then, with a growl the balloon popped!
Oh no!
Billy was devastated- for a moment. Then we played with the other balloon still around, only this time Buddy was not allowed to play. Buddy got a ten second time out and then had to apologize to Billy by giving him a hug. Billy accepted the apology.
Then Billy went on to retell, only a thousand times, the story of Buddy and the Balloon.
"Buddy, no bite Billy balloon," he kept saying.
Then I'd ask him what happened.
"Buddy jump. Then Buddy bite balloon. 'Haaaaaaaaaaaum!' (that would be his impression of the sound). Then pop! 'Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaum!'"
Over and over again. And laughing after each retelling.
He's still retelling the tale of Buddy and the Balloon. Apparently, it's epic.
Billy was playing with one of his birthday balloons, still inflated, although not floating anymore. It was a green regular balloon, not one of those mylar ones. And he was throwing it up in the air and chasing it around.
Well, Buddy decided to join in the fun and nosed the balloon down the hallway. I gave it a good kick back into the living room.
Just then Buddy jumped up in the air, bring the balloon down and then, with a growl the balloon popped!
Oh no!
Billy was devastated- for a moment. Then we played with the other balloon still around, only this time Buddy was not allowed to play. Buddy got a ten second time out and then had to apologize to Billy by giving him a hug. Billy accepted the apology.
Then Billy went on to retell, only a thousand times, the story of Buddy and the Balloon.
"Buddy, no bite Billy balloon," he kept saying.
Then I'd ask him what happened.
"Buddy jump. Then Buddy bite balloon. 'Haaaaaaaaaaaum!' (that would be his impression of the sound). Then pop! 'Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaum!'"
Over and over again. And laughing after each retelling.
He's still retelling the tale of Buddy and the Balloon. Apparently, it's epic.
Monday, October 29, 2012
October 28, 2012 ~ "Not Cool, Daddy"
I don't know what we were doing. Whatever, something unimportant. And Daddy was pestering me. I don't recall how, maybe poking me, maybe ticking. The way Daddy does when he's being silly.
At some point (and this is every time) my annoyance escalated to the point that I grumped at him.
"Not cool, Daddy."
Billy was in my arms at the time. And he turned to Daddy and said: "Not cool, Daddy. Not cool."
He got every intonation right. He said a phrase he's never used before and said it perfectly. And then we burst out laughing.
~
Billy loves football. It was a bye week. Even so, he insisted we watch football. And he insisted on sitting in my lap and having me explain the game to him (in toddler terms, of course). And when the first game was over, he wanted more football! What does Sunday bring? Endless football! So, I suffered and we watched the Giants/Cowboys game. Blech! Well, at least it's football, right?
~
Mommy's Big Little Helper
As you might have heard, there's a lil ole storm coming to town. Billy helped me prep the back yard. He helped me stow his toys in the shed and bring others inside. He helped move the plants and take down the swing. He's a big lil helper.
Does he know what's going on? Well, he wants to go outside and jump in the puddles. And he's looking forward to the "boom!" I explained it was a big storm. To him, storm equals thunder, so he's waiting on the "boom!"
~
Posting Unknown
I don't know what the storm will bring, but I would have to imagine we will lose power. I will continue to post daily so long as we have power and will post as soon as I am able after we lose power.
If you live in the path of the storm, please stay safe. I hope your loved ones and your property make it through the storm unharmed. Good luck to everyone and I'll see you on the other side (of the storm).
At some point (and this is every time) my annoyance escalated to the point that I grumped at him.
"Not cool, Daddy."
Billy was in my arms at the time. And he turned to Daddy and said: "Not cool, Daddy. Not cool."
He got every intonation right. He said a phrase he's never used before and said it perfectly. And then we burst out laughing.
~
Billy loves football. It was a bye week. Even so, he insisted we watch football. And he insisted on sitting in my lap and having me explain the game to him (in toddler terms, of course). And when the first game was over, he wanted more football! What does Sunday bring? Endless football! So, I suffered and we watched the Giants/Cowboys game. Blech! Well, at least it's football, right?
~
Mommy's Big Little Helper
As you might have heard, there's a lil ole storm coming to town. Billy helped me prep the back yard. He helped me stow his toys in the shed and bring others inside. He helped move the plants and take down the swing. He's a big lil helper.
Does he know what's going on? Well, he wants to go outside and jump in the puddles. And he's looking forward to the "boom!" I explained it was a big storm. To him, storm equals thunder, so he's waiting on the "boom!"
~
Posting Unknown
I don't know what the storm will bring, but I would have to imagine we will lose power. I will continue to post daily so long as we have power and will post as soon as I am able after we lose power.
If you live in the path of the storm, please stay safe. I hope your loved ones and your property make it through the storm unharmed. Good luck to everyone and I'll see you on the other side (of the storm).
Sunday, October 28, 2012
The Sunday Post ~ Go Away Sandy
I was debating between a Halloween post and a hurricane post... this seems more on topic.
Just before I started this blog over a year ago, we were hit with a big ole hurricane. To be honest, it wasn't that bad. We were without power for eight days, which was devastating to our food supply, but otherwise weathered the storm okay. One nice thing about tropical weather- it tends to bring tropical temperatures. Billy was fine, we camped in the den with all of our camping gear, minus the tent and ordered a lot of take out.
One lesson learned from Irene (last year's storm)- don't put food down the disposal when the power is out. Ahem, someone I live with that also washes dishes. Washing your dishes in the bathtub because the sink is backes up is NOT FUN.
But Irene wasn't a terrible storm. Not like Isabel in 2003. That was a terrible storm. Trees down everywhere, no power, storm surge. Where I work the streets were flooded so that the only way to get to our office was by boat. And I wasn't at the family farm for that storm, but there was a lot of damage, cars ruined, houses flooded, boats damaged. It was bad.
Then there was Floyd that flooded out my college campus so that I had to wade through two feet of water to get to the dining hall just so I could eat.
How can I forget Ida? I was on a ship in the middle of the storm. You'd expect boats to rock, but during the storm on twenty foot seas the boat moved up and down, front and back, and side to side in no particular rhythm. We could feel the wind push on the rigging, nearly flattening the 300+ foot ship. In our bunks the boat rocked so far side to side that at one moment we would be lying in bed, the next stand straight up on the foot board, the next doing a hand-stand on the head board. I talked a good friend of mine into going with me. It was an experience, but I'm not sure if she regrets agreeing to sail headlong into a hurricane. But, if you have to be on a boat in a hurricane, who better to be with than the Norwegian Navy?
And I could tell many stories about being at the beach with a storm coming up the coast. When the winds started the sand would blow so hard it would sting your skin like a thousand tiny knives. We would put the storm shutters down, so we couldn't see what was going on outside, only listen to the pounding of rain, howling of wind, and the surf getting closer and closer. One storm ripped the beach away. I remember standing at the ocean's edge, which the day before had been 100 ft further out. Some storms left pools of water trapped on the beach full of fish. One time one of those pools had a shark in it. That was cool, except that in hindsight, that shark probably died. And often the storms would flood out the basement of the neighboring hotel, and we would play in the "pool" created by it.
What will Sandy do?
If we're lucky she'll give us a sound lashing and then head on her way. I don't look forward to the debris, the water, the destruction. If we're lucky she'll leave that part off.
We've prepped, we've prepared. I've told Billy about the big storm. He doesn't care. I'm not sure what I'll do with him if we're trapped inside for several days. He's not an inside all day kind of kid.
All I can say is, go away Sandy. You're not welcome here.
Just before I started this blog over a year ago, we were hit with a big ole hurricane. To be honest, it wasn't that bad. We were without power for eight days, which was devastating to our food supply, but otherwise weathered the storm okay. One nice thing about tropical weather- it tends to bring tropical temperatures. Billy was fine, we camped in the den with all of our camping gear, minus the tent and ordered a lot of take out.
One lesson learned from Irene (last year's storm)- don't put food down the disposal when the power is out. Ahem, someone I live with that also washes dishes. Washing your dishes in the bathtub because the sink is backes up is NOT FUN.
But Irene wasn't a terrible storm. Not like Isabel in 2003. That was a terrible storm. Trees down everywhere, no power, storm surge. Where I work the streets were flooded so that the only way to get to our office was by boat. And I wasn't at the family farm for that storm, but there was a lot of damage, cars ruined, houses flooded, boats damaged. It was bad.
Then there was Floyd that flooded out my college campus so that I had to wade through two feet of water to get to the dining hall just so I could eat.
How can I forget Ida? I was on a ship in the middle of the storm. You'd expect boats to rock, but during the storm on twenty foot seas the boat moved up and down, front and back, and side to side in no particular rhythm. We could feel the wind push on the rigging, nearly flattening the 300+ foot ship. In our bunks the boat rocked so far side to side that at one moment we would be lying in bed, the next stand straight up on the foot board, the next doing a hand-stand on the head board. I talked a good friend of mine into going with me. It was an experience, but I'm not sure if she regrets agreeing to sail headlong into a hurricane. But, if you have to be on a boat in a hurricane, who better to be with than the Norwegian Navy?
And I could tell many stories about being at the beach with a storm coming up the coast. When the winds started the sand would blow so hard it would sting your skin like a thousand tiny knives. We would put the storm shutters down, so we couldn't see what was going on outside, only listen to the pounding of rain, howling of wind, and the surf getting closer and closer. One storm ripped the beach away. I remember standing at the ocean's edge, which the day before had been 100 ft further out. Some storms left pools of water trapped on the beach full of fish. One time one of those pools had a shark in it. That was cool, except that in hindsight, that shark probably died. And often the storms would flood out the basement of the neighboring hotel, and we would play in the "pool" created by it.
What will Sandy do?
If we're lucky she'll give us a sound lashing and then head on her way. I don't look forward to the debris, the water, the destruction. If we're lucky she'll leave that part off.
We've prepped, we've prepared. I've told Billy about the big storm. He doesn't care. I'm not sure what I'll do with him if we're trapped inside for several days. He's not an inside all day kind of kid.
All I can say is, go away Sandy. You're not welcome here.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
October 26, 2012 ~ The Apple Spider Game
How to Play;
First, put the Apple Spider in your mouth.
Then, while holding the Apple Spider in your mouth (no swallowing!) jump across the kitchen in leaps and bounds as high as you can until you reach the other side.
Repeat, going across the kitchen in the other direction until you reach Mommy.
Then, swallow the Apple Spider.
Ask Mommy for another Apple Spider.
Repeat until you get bored.
That's the Apple Spider game.
Billy translation: Apple Spider = apple cider
First, put the Apple Spider in your mouth.
Then, while holding the Apple Spider in your mouth (no swallowing!) jump across the kitchen in leaps and bounds as high as you can until you reach the other side.
Repeat, going across the kitchen in the other direction until you reach Mommy.
Then, swallow the Apple Spider.
Ask Mommy for another Apple Spider.
Repeat until you get bored.
That's the Apple Spider game.
Billy translation: Apple Spider = apple cider
Friday, October 26, 2012
October 25, 2012 ~ Potty Training
I bet you don't want to hear about the tantrum du jour. So, since it was an uneventful day minus the epic tantrums...
Potty Training.
Yep. Four days in a row Billy has successfully peed in the potty both in the morning and just before bed. I've had to wipe up the floor a few times (still working on the 'aim') but he's got it down.
Here's how it goes:
Billy says he needs to pee and runs to the potty. He waits for me to turn on the light, because well, the dark bathroom is scary. "It's 'cary, Mommy". Then he does his business. Then, he pops up, pulls the seat off of his little duck potty and removes the catch cup inside of it. He then dumps the catch cup into the big potty (two hands, Billy, two hands!!! argh, okay, I'll wipe that up...) Then he flushes the big potty and claps.
We still have not had a successful potty poop, but we'll take what we can get.
Potty training. I'm on it!
Potty Training.
Yep. Four days in a row Billy has successfully peed in the potty both in the morning and just before bed. I've had to wipe up the floor a few times (still working on the 'aim') but he's got it down.
Here's how it goes:
Billy says he needs to pee and runs to the potty. He waits for me to turn on the light, because well, the dark bathroom is scary. "It's 'cary, Mommy". Then he does his business. Then, he pops up, pulls the seat off of his little duck potty and removes the catch cup inside of it. He then dumps the catch cup into the big potty (two hands, Billy, two hands!!! argh, okay, I'll wipe that up...) Then he flushes the big potty and claps.
We still have not had a successful potty poop, but we'll take what we can get.
Potty training. I'm on it!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
October 23, 2012 ~ The Costume Bin
The time had come for me to dig through the costume bin. It's a yearly ritual. Halloween is a week away and I need a costume. The "bin" is four boxes of costumes, decorations and all things spooky.
In truth I had been through the bin last week trying to piece together my costume, but got called away (by Daddy) to deal with a tornado, aka our toddler.
So, again I was back at it. Last week I found all but one- that's right, one- piece to my costume. That required me digging through all of the boxes to find it.
This time I let Billy dig through the bin with me. He immediately took to the train engineer's hat, originally worn by Grandma as a girl. Next we found a rubber snake. I teased him with it. He thought that was awesome. Next up, a captain's hat. It was too big. There was also a cat in the hat hat which he tossed around. We found spiders and bones and ghosts and ghouls.
But his favorite was a little plastic cutlass. He picked it up and never put it down. Like any true pirate he found and hook and carried that around too. In the car, still holding the sword. Diaper change? Still holding the sword. Bedtime? He wouldn't give it up. Any good pirate sleeps with his sword, don't you know.
At the end of the night this was the full ensemble he decided would be his costume:
In truth I had been through the bin last week trying to piece together my costume, but got called away (by Daddy) to deal with a tornado, aka our toddler.
So, again I was back at it. Last week I found all but one- that's right, one- piece to my costume. That required me digging through all of the boxes to find it.
This time I let Billy dig through the bin with me. He immediately took to the train engineer's hat, originally worn by Grandma as a girl. Next we found a rubber snake. I teased him with it. He thought that was awesome. Next up, a captain's hat. It was too big. There was also a cat in the hat hat which he tossed around. We found spiders and bones and ghosts and ghouls.
But his favorite was a little plastic cutlass. He picked it up and never put it down. Like any true pirate he found and hook and carried that around too. In the car, still holding the sword. Diaper change? Still holding the sword. Bedtime? He wouldn't give it up. Any good pirate sleeps with his sword, don't you know.
At the end of the night this was the full ensemble he decided would be his costume:
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
October 22, 2012 ~ Was That?
I sat Billy down to dinner and presented him with his plate. There were three things on the plate: hot dog, broccoli and potatoes.
Wait...what? Billy HATES broccoli and HATES potatoes even more! What are you thinking? He won't eat that!
"Here Billy. Here's your dinner."
"Hot dog! Mommy, was that?" he points to the broccoli.
"Those are baby trees. They are super yummy. And they are covered in butter. You are so lucky to be able to eat baby trees. Wow, Billy. That's really cool."
"Butter?" Ah, the magic word.
"And was that?" he points to the potatoes.
"Those are, um," struggling to find non-potatoey words here, "papas!"
"Yes, those are baby papas and they are also covered in butter."
"Butter?" He reaches to take a bite.
Okay, I know what you're thinking here. Papas? Like the Mamas and the Papas? No, silly. For some reason the only thing my brain would do is switch to Spanish. So, now they're just Spanish potatoes. But don't ever say "potato" in my house. Billy will run screaming from the table. They're papas.
He ate a bite of potato. Then a bite of broccoli. Then he ate all of his broccoli. I couldn't get him to eat the rest of the potat... excuse me, papas. But I have high hopes for today.
Yes. I tricked my toddler into eating two foods he hates. And you know what? He liked it.
Wait...what? Billy HATES broccoli and HATES potatoes even more! What are you thinking? He won't eat that!
"Here Billy. Here's your dinner."
"Hot dog! Mommy, was that?" he points to the broccoli.
"Those are baby trees. They are super yummy. And they are covered in butter. You are so lucky to be able to eat baby trees. Wow, Billy. That's really cool."
"Butter?" Ah, the magic word.
"And was that?" he points to the potatoes.
"Those are, um," struggling to find non-potatoey words here, "papas!"
"Yes, those are baby papas and they are also covered in butter."
"Butter?" He reaches to take a bite.
Okay, I know what you're thinking here. Papas? Like the Mamas and the Papas? No, silly. For some reason the only thing my brain would do is switch to Spanish. So, now they're just Spanish potatoes. But don't ever say "potato" in my house. Billy will run screaming from the table. They're papas.
He ate a bite of potato. Then a bite of broccoli. Then he ate all of his broccoli. I couldn't get him to eat the rest of the potat... excuse me, papas. But I have high hopes for today.
Yes. I tricked my toddler into eating two foods he hates. And you know what? He liked it.
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