I am a bit ashamed at how excited I was. I also really wish those rain boots came in my size.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Reasons why my tummy hurts, by Back Seat Girl
"Because you are filled with curiosity, just like Bear" (Bear is a character in one of her books)
"Because your tummy thinks it's growing"
Also-I have a sickness. This sickness has to do with my obsession with children's shoes. It was manageable when I just had one kid, but now I have two, and it looks like Back Seat Boy will be walking in another month or two, so now I have two pairs of feet to outfit in shoes. Luckily, Vincent shoes is having a sale. If you know someone who has little feet who might need shoes go there now. Sizes are starting to run out in some styles. I will admit that I bought Back Seat Girl a pair that wasn't on sale, because I've been lusting after them for a long time and they are obviously never, NEVER going to go on sale. I'm also a little mad because the pair I bought her for Christmas are now 50% off and I bought them at full price. Ah, well, I got two pairs for Back Seat Boy that I'm hoping will last him through fall next year. I can hardly wait to see him cruising around in his new shoes. (He walked along the entire length of the couch today!!)
"Because your tummy thinks it's growing"
Also-I have a sickness. This sickness has to do with my obsession with children's shoes. It was manageable when I just had one kid, but now I have two, and it looks like Back Seat Boy will be walking in another month or two, so now I have two pairs of feet to outfit in shoes. Luckily, Vincent shoes is having a sale. If you know someone who has little feet who might need shoes go there now. Sizes are starting to run out in some styles. I will admit that I bought Back Seat Girl a pair that wasn't on sale, because I've been lusting after them for a long time and they are obviously never, NEVER going to go on sale. I'm also a little mad because the pair I bought her for Christmas are now 50% off and I bought them at full price. Ah, well, I got two pairs for Back Seat Boy that I'm hoping will last him through fall next year. I can hardly wait to see him cruising around in his new shoes. (He walked along the entire length of the couch today!!)
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Gotta Love MN
I love living in a place where skin is referred to as exposed flesh on the weather report.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
Other parent rant
Yesterday I took the Back Seaters to the library. Back Seat Girl has been wanting another Babar book, and it looked like it would be the last day that the temperature would go over 0, so I packed up the kids and the kleenex, and off we went.
I was nervous about Back Seat Boy. The library is a place where all of the books are in order and they like it quiet. One of BSB's favorite things to do is pull himself up on BSG's bookshelf and take all of the books out of it, and he also really likes the sound of his own voice. I knew when we got there he wouldn't be content to just let me hold him while there were all of those books just begging to be pulled off of the shelves. I brought some toys and snacks and hoped for the best.
After asking the librarian where I could find the Babar books, we made our way over to the little kid's section and I took all of our coats, hats, etc. off and set BSB down. There was a large wooden box with stuff all over it to play with--wooden beads to push along a track, that sort of thing. BSB made a beeline for it and was very contented to sit and play with it while BSG and I searched for Babar. He was being very well behaved for a 1 year old in a library when a boy probably around BSG's age appeared. I had seen him before with his mother, so I didn't pay too much attention.
That is, I didn't pay attention until I heard the wooden box making a lot of noise and I looked up to see the little boy pick it up, which was quite a feat I might add, and carry it away from BSB so he could play with it himself. I looked around, the mom was nowhere in sight. BSB sat where he was, reached in the general direction of the boy and the box, and made his "I want that" noise. I looked at the boy. He looked back at me. BSB started crawling towards the boy, the boy picked up the box and moved farther away. Still no mother in sight. Now BSG noticed and said indignantly "That boy is taking the toy away from [BSB]!". I was proud of her for being kind of angry, but instead of telling her to go and beat him up (she totally could, she would have righteous indignation on her side), I got some of the toys I had packed for BSB and distracted him. He was very good and focused his attention on the toys and the giant bear sitting on a bench. He enjoyed throwing himself at the bear repeatedly while BSG and I read books on the bench, all the while the little boy was watching us and playing with no mother in sight. Finally he came over and dragged the huge bear off of the bench, when suddenly his mother appeared and said "Oh, is that bear too big, [preshus]?" and laughed like it was a funny little incident, even though the kids and I were about two inches away from the bear and it was very obvioius why her kid had taken the bear away and was now struggling to drag it as far away from us as possible.
First of all, where was this mother? I bet it took at least 15 minutes for us to find a book and read and stuff, and the whole time this kid was unsupervised. If the mother was watching and I just couldn't see her, why didn't she intervene when he took the toy away from BSB? If it had been BSG doing that, I wouldn't have just ignored it. Then when the kid pulled the bear down off the bench, why did she just make a little joke? Once again, if it had been BSG, I would have instructed her that they were playing with the bear and we needed to put it back now. Even if it had been BSB, I would've put the bear back. This was a giant bear, people. It was obviously not there to be moved around the children's area.
I am not the best, most responsible parent in the whole world, and I'm sure there have been times when I've taken my kids' side just because they were my kids, but there have also been plenty of times where I've seen that my kid is the one being the jerk and done something about it. It's OK to admit it when they are misbehaving. They're kids! They aren't perfect. Obviously, neither are their parents.
I was nervous about Back Seat Boy. The library is a place where all of the books are in order and they like it quiet. One of BSB's favorite things to do is pull himself up on BSG's bookshelf and take all of the books out of it, and he also really likes the sound of his own voice. I knew when we got there he wouldn't be content to just let me hold him while there were all of those books just begging to be pulled off of the shelves. I brought some toys and snacks and hoped for the best.
After asking the librarian where I could find the Babar books, we made our way over to the little kid's section and I took all of our coats, hats, etc. off and set BSB down. There was a large wooden box with stuff all over it to play with--wooden beads to push along a track, that sort of thing. BSB made a beeline for it and was very contented to sit and play with it while BSG and I searched for Babar. He was being very well behaved for a 1 year old in a library when a boy probably around BSG's age appeared. I had seen him before with his mother, so I didn't pay too much attention.
That is, I didn't pay attention until I heard the wooden box making a lot of noise and I looked up to see the little boy pick it up, which was quite a feat I might add, and carry it away from BSB so he could play with it himself. I looked around, the mom was nowhere in sight. BSB sat where he was, reached in the general direction of the boy and the box, and made his "I want that" noise. I looked at the boy. He looked back at me. BSB started crawling towards the boy, the boy picked up the box and moved farther away. Still no mother in sight. Now BSG noticed and said indignantly "That boy is taking the toy away from [BSB]!". I was proud of her for being kind of angry, but instead of telling her to go and beat him up (she totally could, she would have righteous indignation on her side), I got some of the toys I had packed for BSB and distracted him. He was very good and focused his attention on the toys and the giant bear sitting on a bench. He enjoyed throwing himself at the bear repeatedly while BSG and I read books on the bench, all the while the little boy was watching us and playing with no mother in sight. Finally he came over and dragged the huge bear off of the bench, when suddenly his mother appeared and said "Oh, is that bear too big, [preshus]?" and laughed like it was a funny little incident, even though the kids and I were about two inches away from the bear and it was very obvioius why her kid had taken the bear away and was now struggling to drag it as far away from us as possible.
First of all, where was this mother? I bet it took at least 15 minutes for us to find a book and read and stuff, and the whole time this kid was unsupervised. If the mother was watching and I just couldn't see her, why didn't she intervene when he took the toy away from BSB? If it had been BSG doing that, I wouldn't have just ignored it. Then when the kid pulled the bear down off the bench, why did she just make a little joke? Once again, if it had been BSG, I would have instructed her that they were playing with the bear and we needed to put it back now. Even if it had been BSB, I would've put the bear back. This was a giant bear, people. It was obviously not there to be moved around the children's area.
I am not the best, most responsible parent in the whole world, and I'm sure there have been times when I've taken my kids' side just because they were my kids, but there have also been plenty of times where I've seen that my kid is the one being the jerk and done something about it. It's OK to admit it when they are misbehaving. They're kids! They aren't perfect. Obviously, neither are their parents.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Still here...
I had internet problems for a while (OK, maybe I was the problem, whatever), and I know you all missed my wit, but now Driver is home and he fixed the internet (OK-me) and you can all look forward to my wit just as soon as I can think of something witty to write about.
For now Back Seat Boy would like you to know that he really, REALLY does not like having his hair cut. Having pieces of frosted animal crackers put in his mouth barely makes it bearable.
For now Back Seat Boy would like you to know that he really, REALLY does not like having his hair cut. Having pieces of frosted animal crackers put in his mouth barely makes it bearable.
Friday, January 04, 2008
I feel so dirty.
Dear Cub Foods,
I know, I know. You haven't seen me in a while. I will admit that I was lured away for a time by the sleek new SuperTarget. It takes two to tango, though. I am not the only one at fault here.
Listen, we both know our relationship hasn't been the smoothest. I do love a lot of things about you, and I guess Dr. Phil would tell me to talk about those first. I love you for your comfort, for the fact that I know where everything is and could make my grocery list in order of where I will find it in the store. I loved your size--big, but not too huge, with plenty of selection. I loved that I almost always found what I was looking for, except for a few rare ingredients that I would have to go to Lund's for. Let's face it, you and Lund's--two different stores. I like that you don't pretend to be something you're not. You're a grocery store, plain and simple. I appreciate the fact that your checkers know what ginger is without looking it up on that plastic list of barcodes and then having to call over the manager. I like the old ladies who fawn over my children and the old men who hang out and drink coffee. I even like the crazy old lady who pushes a cart full of miscellaneous cleaning supplies, including a large broom which is obviously very old, wearing latex gloves (she adds charm).
All of these things are great, yes, but there are some things about you that I do not love. First of all, Cub, what is the deal with the big carts? I'm talking about the ones made for those of us with more than one child, the ones with the plastic cars on the front. Those things suck!! They are all old, don't push right, and never, ever sit on all the wheels at the same time. If the front ones are on the ground the back wheels are about an inch above it and visa versa. I am, however, actually happy when I find one because they are never all nice in a cart corrall somewhere. No, they are scattered around outside. Sometimes they are just next to the building but nowhere near any door. Many times they are out where the red-headed step child carts are, stuck in a puddle or the snow. This is really great when you have a small child who's walking and another you are carrying. Yes, honey, just scale the snow mountain and step right inside, I'm sure it will be fine. It's also great when it's snowing or raining. I love nothing more than setting my baby down in a wet, cold cart while my 3 year old looks at me like I'm crazy after suggesting she get in. Even she knows it's ridiculous.
Then there is the matter of that one checker. The young man with the beard who very well may be the slowest checker. in. the. whole. world. That guy has got to be trying to go that slow. It's not like he's new. I've lived here for over 5 years and he's been at that store the whole time. You must do something about it. At least now I know to avoid his line.
I also really don't like it when you leave random boxes in the aisles. This happens a lot in the produce section, but it can be anywhere in the store. I'm already having trouble navigating with the piece of crap cart I've dug out of a snow bank and dried off with a towel I'm now smart enough to bring along, now I've got to shimmy past a few boxes and the shelves of cereal? You've created a road block. All traffic must come to a halt while we take turns squeezing by the apparently useless boxes. And what if I need something behind those boxes?
OK, OK, I didn't mean to upset you. Nobody is perfect, but you understand why I had to wander off the reservation, don't you? I mean, SuperTarget's allure is pretty easy to understand. I can get all of my errands done in one stop, which is important now that I have a baby boy who does not take as well to errands as his sister did. Plus, it's new. It's all shiny and new and clean. Also--they have a Starbucks in there. AND a D'amico and Son's deli food, AND those Bruce's sweet potato pancakes we all love. COME ON! It practically sat on the corner in a short skirt and begged me to come in. (Not that I'm attracted to people in short skirts...)
After a couple of big grocery shopping excursions, though, I must say, I missed you. First of all, where is the cheese? The front of the store? Yep--some of it is, but lots of it is also in the back with the rest of the dairy. The aisles in the produce section run diagonally, which I CAN NOT STAND. Since it's new I don't know where everything is and when I miss something and need to go back it feels like a maze. Speaking of not knowing where everything is, I hate that I don't know where everything is. It really bugs me that I can't just make my list, whip in and out of there, and be done with it. I know that is maybe more about me then about Target, but either way, I don't like it. The checkers? I know you're all new to this, but hello? It's ginger. It's not that exotic. Then there is the matter of selection. While it's not horrible, it's not that great, either. Basically, it'll do for when I need to pick up a few food items along with more toothpaste and deodorant, it won't do for my big grocery shopping trips.
That is why you saw me there yesterday, with my daughter up front in the plastic car talking and asking me questions even though I can't hear her that well when she's all the way up there, and my son sitting near the handle bar reaching for everthing he may be able to grab and making his 'I want that' noise. Nevermind that he doesn't know what 'that' is, he'll decide later whether it's worthwhile or not. I was back, pushing the cart I had to walk halfway across the parking lot for, but my list was all in order and we were in and out of there in half an hour and I got everything on my list.
So, Cub, thanks for taking me back. I guess I needed to see what else is out there to realize how good I had it right here with you. I was wondering though, about those carts, maybe there is something you could do?
I know, I know. You haven't seen me in a while. I will admit that I was lured away for a time by the sleek new SuperTarget. It takes two to tango, though. I am not the only one at fault here.
Listen, we both know our relationship hasn't been the smoothest. I do love a lot of things about you, and I guess Dr. Phil would tell me to talk about those first. I love you for your comfort, for the fact that I know where everything is and could make my grocery list in order of where I will find it in the store. I loved your size--big, but not too huge, with plenty of selection. I loved that I almost always found what I was looking for, except for a few rare ingredients that I would have to go to Lund's for. Let's face it, you and Lund's--two different stores. I like that you don't pretend to be something you're not. You're a grocery store, plain and simple. I appreciate the fact that your checkers know what ginger is without looking it up on that plastic list of barcodes and then having to call over the manager. I like the old ladies who fawn over my children and the old men who hang out and drink coffee. I even like the crazy old lady who pushes a cart full of miscellaneous cleaning supplies, including a large broom which is obviously very old, wearing latex gloves (she adds charm).
All of these things are great, yes, but there are some things about you that I do not love. First of all, Cub, what is the deal with the big carts? I'm talking about the ones made for those of us with more than one child, the ones with the plastic cars on the front. Those things suck!! They are all old, don't push right, and never, ever sit on all the wheels at the same time. If the front ones are on the ground the back wheels are about an inch above it and visa versa. I am, however, actually happy when I find one because they are never all nice in a cart corrall somewhere. No, they are scattered around outside. Sometimes they are just next to the building but nowhere near any door. Many times they are out where the red-headed step child carts are, stuck in a puddle or the snow. This is really great when you have a small child who's walking and another you are carrying. Yes, honey, just scale the snow mountain and step right inside, I'm sure it will be fine. It's also great when it's snowing or raining. I love nothing more than setting my baby down in a wet, cold cart while my 3 year old looks at me like I'm crazy after suggesting she get in. Even she knows it's ridiculous.
Then there is the matter of that one checker. The young man with the beard who very well may be the slowest checker. in. the. whole. world. That guy has got to be trying to go that slow. It's not like he's new. I've lived here for over 5 years and he's been at that store the whole time. You must do something about it. At least now I know to avoid his line.
I also really don't like it when you leave random boxes in the aisles. This happens a lot in the produce section, but it can be anywhere in the store. I'm already having trouble navigating with the piece of crap cart I've dug out of a snow bank and dried off with a towel I'm now smart enough to bring along, now I've got to shimmy past a few boxes and the shelves of cereal? You've created a road block. All traffic must come to a halt while we take turns squeezing by the apparently useless boxes. And what if I need something behind those boxes?
OK, OK, I didn't mean to upset you. Nobody is perfect, but you understand why I had to wander off the reservation, don't you? I mean, SuperTarget's allure is pretty easy to understand. I can get all of my errands done in one stop, which is important now that I have a baby boy who does not take as well to errands as his sister did. Plus, it's new. It's all shiny and new and clean. Also--they have a Starbucks in there. AND a D'amico and Son's deli food, AND those Bruce's sweet potato pancakes we all love. COME ON! It practically sat on the corner in a short skirt and begged me to come in. (Not that I'm attracted to people in short skirts...)
After a couple of big grocery shopping excursions, though, I must say, I missed you. First of all, where is the cheese? The front of the store? Yep--some of it is, but lots of it is also in the back with the rest of the dairy. The aisles in the produce section run diagonally, which I CAN NOT STAND. Since it's new I don't know where everything is and when I miss something and need to go back it feels like a maze. Speaking of not knowing where everything is, I hate that I don't know where everything is. It really bugs me that I can't just make my list, whip in and out of there, and be done with it. I know that is maybe more about me then about Target, but either way, I don't like it. The checkers? I know you're all new to this, but hello? It's ginger. It's not that exotic. Then there is the matter of selection. While it's not horrible, it's not that great, either. Basically, it'll do for when I need to pick up a few food items along with more toothpaste and deodorant, it won't do for my big grocery shopping trips.
That is why you saw me there yesterday, with my daughter up front in the plastic car talking and asking me questions even though I can't hear her that well when she's all the way up there, and my son sitting near the handle bar reaching for everthing he may be able to grab and making his 'I want that' noise. Nevermind that he doesn't know what 'that' is, he'll decide later whether it's worthwhile or not. I was back, pushing the cart I had to walk halfway across the parking lot for, but my list was all in order and we were in and out of there in half an hour and I got everything on my list.
So, Cub, thanks for taking me back. I guess I needed to see what else is out there to realize how good I had it right here with you. I was wondering though, about those carts, maybe there is something you could do?
Thursday, December 20, 2007
My proudest moment as a parent and a scientist
I thought I was going to write a post about how the proudest moment I've had since becoming a parent was this past Sunday. My oldest child was at the front of church, singing in her very first Christmas program, while my youngest child was sitting on my lap excitedly slapping the pew in front of us because his beloved sister was waving at us and saying "Hello, [Back Seat Boy]", over and over again in the tiny little voice she reserves just for him.
I was going to write about that, but then this morning happened.
Back Seat Girl woke up with a bit of a cough, and over breakfast she was asking me how she got it. I told her she had caught a germ and it was inside of her making her cough. She thought about this for a moment and then said "I wish I would get a white blood cell to eat the germ in me and make me all better". After swelling with pride for a moment I told her she already has white blood cells, we all do, and they are trying to eat the germ right now. She has been talking about her white blood cells all day, and while I was telling her about how they eat the germs she asked, very solemnly "will it hurt?". She has also asked me how long it will take.
Now, if Back Seat Boy will just learn to say adenosine tryphosphate, my life will be complete.
Also-I tried another thing that's not very easy with a 3 year old and a 1 year old "helping"--scrubbing the kitchen floor. It didn't take long to remember why I usually wait for naptime to get out large buckets of water.
I was going to write about that, but then this morning happened.
Back Seat Girl woke up with a bit of a cough, and over breakfast she was asking me how she got it. I told her she had caught a germ and it was inside of her making her cough. She thought about this for a moment and then said "I wish I would get a white blood cell to eat the germ in me and make me all better". After swelling with pride for a moment I told her she already has white blood cells, we all do, and they are trying to eat the germ right now. She has been talking about her white blood cells all day, and while I was telling her about how they eat the germs she asked, very solemnly "will it hurt?". She has also asked me how long it will take.
Now, if Back Seat Boy will just learn to say adenosine tryphosphate, my life will be complete.
Also-I tried another thing that's not very easy with a 3 year old and a 1 year old "helping"--scrubbing the kitchen floor. It didn't take long to remember why I usually wait for naptime to get out large buckets of water.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Two things I've attempted in the past week that proved very hard with a 1 year old and a 3 year old involved
1. Decorate the Christmas tree.
(BSG-What's this ornament? Why is it delicate? Where did we get this from? Why do you
keep saying that it's delicate?)
(BSB-Look at all of these balls to throw! Oh, wait-this is obviously meant to be stuck in my
mouth! Hey, if I bang these two things together it makes a really great noise!)
2. Take Christmas card pictures.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Scientific proof that bears are not a type of animal
At supper table, talking about how I have to go to work and she has to go to daycare tomorrow...
(before daycare provider's husband called to tell me she would be closed due to illness....Bah!)
BSG: But you love me so much, you might cry a little at work!
Me: Yea, I might. Do you think you'll cry at [daycare] tomorrow?
BSG: No, I'll see myself.
************************************************
BSG: When I was a baby, I was just like Baby Jesus!
************************************************
While eating her carrots during lunch...
Me: Eating your vegetables will make you grow big and strong.
BSG: Yea, strong like a hippo.
pause...
BSG: or maybe like a rhinocerus!
Me: Which do you think is stronger, a hippo or a rhino?
some deep thinking by BSG...
BSG: A rhinoceros, because they have horns.
***************************************************
While reading the book "Never talk to Strangers", where all of the 'strangers' are different kinds of animals. We were on the page with a bear knocking at the door...
BSG: But a bear isn't a stranger because he's not an animal.
Me: Yes he is. A bear is a type of animal.
BSG: No it's not.
Me: Yes it is.
BSG: No it's not.
Me: What is a bear if he's not an animal?
BSG: It's a type of monster because it has scary teeth. See? (points to book, then touches bear's teeth in the picture). Ouch! Those teeth are sharp!
*******************************************************************
Radio: "I saw mommy kissing Santa Clause underneath the Christmas tree"
BSG -: Mommy was kissing Santa Clause?!
****************************************************************
(before daycare provider's husband called to tell me she would be closed due to illness....Bah!)
BSG: But you love me so much, you might cry a little at work!
Me: Yea, I might. Do you think you'll cry at [daycare] tomorrow?
BSG: No, I'll see myself.
************************************************
BSG: When I was a baby, I was just like Baby Jesus!
************************************************
While eating her carrots during lunch...
Me: Eating your vegetables will make you grow big and strong.
BSG: Yea, strong like a hippo.
pause...
BSG: or maybe like a rhinocerus!
Me: Which do you think is stronger, a hippo or a rhino?
some deep thinking by BSG...
BSG: A rhinoceros, because they have horns.
***************************************************
While reading the book "Never talk to Strangers", where all of the 'strangers' are different kinds of animals. We were on the page with a bear knocking at the door...
BSG: But a bear isn't a stranger because he's not an animal.
Me: Yes he is. A bear is a type of animal.
BSG: No it's not.
Me: Yes it is.
BSG: No it's not.
Me: What is a bear if he's not an animal?
BSG: It's a type of monster because it has scary teeth. See? (points to book, then touches bear's teeth in the picture). Ouch! Those teeth are sharp!
*******************************************************************
BSG -
****************************************************************
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
They can only stay babies for so long...
The kids got their hair cut today. It was Back Seat Boy's first ever haircut. He did not enjoy himself, but at least he sat still while he screamed, which is all I cared about. Here are a bunch of really crappy pictures I took after we got home. They are all of BSB except the first one, not because I'm playing favorites, but because I couldn't believe how much older he looks now. Also-very hard to take a picture of him because he was constantly crawling around playing with all of the toilet paper he dragged into the living room from the bathroom. Back Seat Girl fell and knocked it down. That's how things go around here.
I had to lay down on the floor and then hold the camera up over us and hope I got some of his head in the shot.
Hey--did you know there was tons of this stuff in the bathroom?
Hello, Ladiez!
Thank God he doesn't have BSG's ears
BSG, looking down so I could take a picture of her hair
I had to lay down on the floor and then hold the camera up over us and hope I got some of his head in the shot.
Hey--did you know there was tons of this stuff in the bathroom?
Hello, Ladiez!
Thank God he doesn't have BSG's ears
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
All of this happened today and I didn't make any of it up. I swear.
As we were driving down the street in our fair city today I saw a woman walking down the sidewalk carrying a sweater-clad cat. If we end up moving out of Richfield I'm sure gonna' miss stuff like that.
This morning I was trying to get the kids dressed. Back Seat Girl does most of it herself, but it takes a looooooooooooooooooooooooong time for her to complete the transition from jammies to street clothes. She gets distracted by, oh, I don't know, everything. So she is in her room with Back Seat Boy and I'm in BSB's room getting clothes for him to wear when I hear both of them giggling. "Mom, come in here, BSB has a funny hat on!" BSG calls. Before I even poke my head in I know what I'm going to see, which is a scary fact in and of itself. Sure enough, BSB is sitting on BSG's rug with a pair of her underwear on his head, and they are both laughing.
I had a day off today which is rare, because Tuesdays are the one day of the week I am practically guaranteed to be at work. The reason has to do with the fact that yesterday was a federal holiday, and you can all go ahead and groan and roll your eyes, I don't care. Anyway, if you'll let me finish, that means the kids and I were home when the cleaning ladies got here. Before I proceed I just want to say I am a bit hesitant to write this because I know the cleaning ladies may occasionally read this website, and if they don't read this entry, I've heard one their daughters enjoys to read here so they will probably hear about this. I will also be calling them Cleaning Ladies for two reasons: 1--I hate to use people's real names without their consent, and 2--BSG called them that the whole time they were here, even after she learned their names. It's like she was meant to be brought up in a family with much, much more money. Man, don't you hate it when it takes forever for people to make a point?
OK, so the kids and I are at the table eating lunch and the Cleaning Ladies are in various parts of the house doing their thing when BSG announces: "The Cleaning Ladies have boobs". I had no idea if they had heard her or not, and if they did they chose to ignore it, but I said a fervent prayer that that would be the last time she talked about it while they were here. It was. Two SuperTargets and no more mention of boobs--God really does answer prayers.
This morning I was trying to get the kids dressed. Back Seat Girl does most of it herself, but it takes a looooooooooooooooooooooooong time for her to complete the transition from jammies to street clothes. She gets distracted by, oh, I don't know, everything. So she is in her room with Back Seat Boy and I'm in BSB's room getting clothes for him to wear when I hear both of them giggling. "Mom, come in here, BSB has a funny hat on!" BSG calls. Before I even poke my head in I know what I'm going to see, which is a scary fact in and of itself. Sure enough, BSB is sitting on BSG's rug with a pair of her underwear on his head, and they are both laughing.
I had a day off today which is rare, because Tuesdays are the one day of the week I am practically guaranteed to be at work. The reason has to do with the fact that yesterday was a federal holiday, and you can all go ahead and groan and roll your eyes, I don't care. Anyway, if you'll let me finish, that means the kids and I were home when the cleaning ladies got here. Before I proceed I just want to say I am a bit hesitant to write this because I know the cleaning ladies may occasionally read this website, and if they don't read this entry, I've heard one their daughters enjoys to read here so they will probably hear about this. I will also be calling them Cleaning Ladies for two reasons: 1--I hate to use people's real names without their consent, and 2--BSG called them that the whole time they were here, even after she learned their names. It's like she was meant to be brought up in a family with much, much more money. Man, don't you hate it when it takes forever for people to make a point?
OK, so the kids and I are at the table eating lunch and the Cleaning Ladies are in various parts of the house doing their thing when BSG announces: "The Cleaning Ladies have boobs". I had no idea if they had heard her or not, and if they did they chose to ignore it, but I said a fervent prayer that that would be the last time she talked about it while they were here. It was. Two SuperTargets and no more mention of boobs--God really does answer prayers.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
One Year Old
updated:now with photos--finally!
You have always had a sweet disposition--happy and content, though now you are throwing age-appropriate tantrums. I say age appropriate because I took you to the Dr. yesterday and he asked if you were tantruming and I realized that yes, you are and when I said that he seemed almost pleased. You get mad when I take things away you shouldn't have, when I set you down when you want to be carried, when I don't set you down when you want to get down, when you wake up at 5 AM and realized that we aren't in your room to get you up but to try to get you to fall back asleep, and when you are sitting in your highchair and there is not food in front of you RIGHT. NOW. We switched your car seat to front facing yesterday and for the first time you threw a fit when I went to put you back in it after running errands. You straightened your little body out so I couldn't strap you in, crunched up your face, and grunted with rage.
This past week it's like you were completely aware that you knew you were about to turn one. You started waving bye-bye and crawling. You suddenly seemed so much older. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I noticed something was different. I know I'm not completely crazy, because Driver mentioned the same thing to me yesterday.
You have started holding your socks up to my nose after I take them off of you so I can smell them and say "P.U.--stinky!" You blow on your food the second you see anyone else at the table do it. You are mimicing everything we do--though your favorite thing to mimic is clapping. Tonight your sister and I were making tooting noises with our mouths while we were eating supper (oh, yea, we are that classy) and you thought it was hysterical. After you got done laughing your adorable little laugh, you tried making the same noises with your mouth. The problem was that all of your toot noises weren't quite 'toot' and more like blowing raspberries, but you still thought you were pretty awesome.
Your favorite thing to do is make noise. You love to bang things together, or bang objects against anything close to you--the floor, the wall, the refrigerator...whatever will make a nice, gratifying noise. You also love to take baths. You have no problem with getting a cup of water dumped over your head, and you have a great talent for bending over to try to take drinks from the bath water. Your favorite thing to do is to splash as hard as you can. You throw your whole body into it, and when water is dripping off of all of us and the walls you squeal with glee and do it over and over until I've had enough and pull you out of the bath to dry off.
You have this really annoying habit of trying to get out of peoples' arms when they are holding you. You wriggle and squirm and all but throw yourself forcibly down on the ground, but then when you do get set down you start to cry and turn around and hold your arms up to get picked up again. I really don't know what that's all about. Maybe once you get down you realize the floor wasn't as glorious as you once thought. I thought crawling would do away with this, but that is not the case.
I know I said before that this year has flown by, and it has, but I have a hard time remembering clearly what it was like before you were here. Before you were born the thing I was most apprehensive about was the changing of our family dynamic. We only had Back Seat Girl, and it was hard for me to think about a baby who wasn't her. Especially a boy baby. But then you were born and we fell in love with you and I can't remember what it was like to have just one baby. I can't imagine not having you in our lives, just like those nights when Driver was at school and Back Seat Girl was in bed and it was just me and my belly and my thoughts, and I had a hard time imagining what it would be like to bring another baby into the house. I can't believe how lucky I am that you were the baby in that big belly. I think about that all of the time, when we are out and people are admiring you, but especially when it's just you and me and I don't have to share you. I think about how lucky I am that out of all the people in this world, I get to be your mama, that God chose me to care for you and teach you and love you, you precious baby boy.
I love you so much.
Happy First Birthday, Little Man.
One year old. I really don't know how this happened. I know I said it before, but I really am in a little bit of shock here. I promise this is the last comparison I make to your sister, but it seemed to take much longer for her to make it to a year. Now here you are, crawling around--a little person, so far removed from the baby in the picture up there.
You have always had a sweet disposition--happy and content, though now you are throwing age-appropriate tantrums. I say age appropriate because I took you to the Dr. yesterday and he asked if you were tantruming and I realized that yes, you are and when I said that he seemed almost pleased. You get mad when I take things away you shouldn't have, when I set you down when you want to be carried, when I don't set you down when you want to get down, when you wake up at 5 AM and realized that we aren't in your room to get you up but to try to get you to fall back asleep, and when you are sitting in your highchair and there is not food in front of you RIGHT. NOW. We switched your car seat to front facing yesterday and for the first time you threw a fit when I went to put you back in it after running errands. You straightened your little body out so I couldn't strap you in, crunched up your face, and grunted with rage.
This past week it's like you were completely aware that you knew you were about to turn one. You started waving bye-bye and crawling. You suddenly seemed so much older. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I noticed something was different. I know I'm not completely crazy, because Driver mentioned the same thing to me yesterday.
You have started holding your socks up to my nose after I take them off of you so I can smell them and say "P.U.--stinky!" You blow on your food the second you see anyone else at the table do it. You are mimicing everything we do--though your favorite thing to mimic is clapping. Tonight your sister and I were making tooting noises with our mouths while we were eating supper (oh, yea, we are that classy) and you thought it was hysterical. After you got done laughing your adorable little laugh, you tried making the same noises with your mouth. The problem was that all of your toot noises weren't quite 'toot' and more like blowing raspberries, but you still thought you were pretty awesome.
Your favorite thing to do is make noise. You love to bang things together, or bang objects against anything close to you--the floor, the wall, the refrigerator...whatever will make a nice, gratifying noise. You also love to take baths. You have no problem with getting a cup of water dumped over your head, and you have a great talent for bending over to try to take drinks from the bath water. Your favorite thing to do is to splash as hard as you can. You throw your whole body into it, and when water is dripping off of all of us and the walls you squeal with glee and do it over and over until I've had enough and pull you out of the bath to dry off.
You have this really annoying habit of trying to get out of peoples' arms when they are holding you. You wriggle and squirm and all but throw yourself forcibly down on the ground, but then when you do get set down you start to cry and turn around and hold your arms up to get picked up again. I really don't know what that's all about. Maybe once you get down you realize the floor wasn't as glorious as you once thought. I thought crawling would do away with this, but that is not the case.
I know I said before that this year has flown by, and it has, but I have a hard time remembering clearly what it was like before you were here. Before you were born the thing I was most apprehensive about was the changing of our family dynamic. We only had Back Seat Girl, and it was hard for me to think about a baby who wasn't her. Especially a boy baby. But then you were born and we fell in love with you and I can't remember what it was like to have just one baby. I can't imagine not having you in our lives, just like those nights when Driver was at school and Back Seat Girl was in bed and it was just me and my belly and my thoughts, and I had a hard time imagining what it would be like to bring another baby into the house. I can't believe how lucky I am that you were the baby in that big belly. I think about that all of the time, when we are out and people are admiring you, but especially when it's just you and me and I don't have to share you. I think about how lucky I am that out of all the people in this world, I get to be your mama, that God chose me to care for you and teach you and love you, you precious baby boy.
I love you so much.
Happy First Birthday, Little Man.
Monday, November 05, 2007
One year old- APlace Holder
Back Seat Boy-
I don't know how it happened, but today you turned one year old. In the past week you have weaned yourself, started crawling and waving bye-bye, and now this birthday on top of everything---I don't know if your old mom can handle it.
It's getting late and there's a lot to do before I go to bed, so I'm not going to have time to write you your birthday post today. It's really you're fault--you didn't take a very good afternoon nap. I didn't even have time to finish the Desperate Housewives I TiVo'd. Good thing it was your birthday, I had to forgive you right away. I guess the fact that you are so frickin' cute, your birthday, and the fact that you got a bazillion shots this morning all added up to you getting away with murder today. I would have almost let you eat all of your sister's pop beads.
Anyway, I hope you had a good birthday today (except for the part where we almost got in a car accident and ended up on the curb in the wagon inbetween a fire hydrant and a telephone pole), and I promise that soon, very soon, I will write you your birthday post, complete with pictures, and, if I can figure it out, a video.
I love you!!
MaMaMaMaMaMa
I don't know how it happened, but today you turned one year old. In the past week you have weaned yourself, started crawling and waving bye-bye, and now this birthday on top of everything---I don't know if your old mom can handle it.
It's getting late and there's a lot to do before I go to bed, so I'm not going to have time to write you your birthday post today. It's really you're fault--you didn't take a very good afternoon nap. I didn't even have time to finish the Desperate Housewives I TiVo'd. Good thing it was your birthday, I had to forgive you right away. I guess the fact that you are so frickin' cute, your birthday, and the fact that you got a bazillion shots this morning all added up to you getting away with murder today. I would have almost let you eat all of your sister's pop beads.
Anyway, I hope you had a good birthday today (except for the part where we almost got in a car accident and ended up on the curb in the wagon inbetween a fire hydrant and a telephone pole), and I promise that soon, very soon, I will write you your birthday post, complete with pictures, and, if I can figure it out, a video.
I love you!!
MaMaMaMaMaMa
Monday, October 22, 2007
The Ups and Downs of 3
Living with a 3 year old is very unpredictable. There are days when I cringe inwardly every time I realize I did something heinous like suggest we eat Cheerios instead of Honey Nut Bunches of Oats. I have to mentally gear up for something like getting dressed in the morning, and God forbid I do something like pick out long sleeves to wear even though its 50 degrees outside. Yes, there are days like that. But then...then there are days like today.
Today, Back Seat Girl woke up in a stellar mood. Cereal for breakfast? Great!! Play some really cute imaginary game totally by myself while my mom cleans up after breakfast? You bet! Going to the park when my brother wakes up? Great!! Leaving the park when mom says it's time without resisting even a little bit? Sure!! Nap time? No stalling here! Sleep from 1 until 4:30 when mom finally wakes me up so I will go to bed tonight. No problem!! Then there was the clincher. After supper I gave her a scoop of chocolate ice cream. She was so excited. She ate with great pleasure, and then right before she was about to drink the "ice cream milk" she said, with total sincerity "Thank you Mommy. Thank you so much for the chocolate, Mommy." Could she be any cuter?
Oh, yea. She can. Tonight we reprised the game she played all by herself earlier today, with a few changes. We fed hippos in her room, chickens and chics which had to come downstairs from my room, and giraffes in the kitchen. It was rather involved, and not only did it involve imaginary animals and imaginary food for said animals, it also included her having to build a zoo and me having to fill a pie tin with water so a giraffe and a goat could swim and drink. Don't worry, she took them to the bathroom so they wouldn't pee in the water. As in, she actually took them into our bathroom, but then explained to me that she didn't have to flush the potty because it was just pretend pee. Here are a few pictures, with one of Back Seat Boy thrown in as a bonus.
Today, Back Seat Girl woke up in a stellar mood. Cereal for breakfast? Great!! Play some really cute imaginary game totally by myself while my mom cleans up after breakfast? You bet! Going to the park when my brother wakes up? Great!! Leaving the park when mom says it's time without resisting even a little bit? Sure!! Nap time? No stalling here! Sleep from 1 until 4:30 when mom finally wakes me up so I will go to bed tonight. No problem!! Then there was the clincher. After supper I gave her a scoop of chocolate ice cream. She was so excited. She ate with great pleasure, and then right before she was about to drink the "ice cream milk" she said, with total sincerity "Thank you Mommy. Thank you so much for the chocolate, Mommy." Could she be any cuter?
Oh, yea. She can. Tonight we reprised the game she played all by herself earlier today, with a few changes. We fed hippos in her room, chickens and chics which had to come downstairs from my room, and giraffes in the kitchen. It was rather involved, and not only did it involve imaginary animals and imaginary food for said animals, it also included her having to build a zoo and me having to fill a pie tin with water so a giraffe and a goat could swim and drink. Don't worry, she took them to the bathroom so they wouldn't pee in the water. As in, she actually took them into our bathroom, but then explained to me that she didn't have to flush the potty because it was just pretend pee. Here are a few pictures, with one of Back Seat Boy thrown in as a bonus.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Ah, Love
I know a couple who recently celebrated their 32-year anniversary. On the big day, the Wife woke up as usual and got ready for work. Before leaving, she went back into the bedroom to say good-bye to the Husband and ask if he would be home that night for supper. She was going to throw in a "Happy Anniversary", but then decided to wait and see if he would remember. The Husband said he would be home for supper and left if at that.
The Wife left for work. No problems, she thought, he'll probably remember in a few hours and call. The wife went about her work day, not giving much thought to the whole situation. It was, after all, 32 years. Not 30, not 35, so she wasn't expecting much. Maybe a card, maybe some flowers, but for sure some sort of recognition that 32 years ago that day they had started a new life together.
At around 10 that morning the Husband shows up to the Wife's work. "Come out here", he said, motioning toward the door that leads to the parking lot, "I have something to show you". The Wife, understandably, gets very excited. Wow, she thinks, I wasn't expecting anything. This is great! I wonder what he got me?! She follows the Husband out to the parking lot, her heart beating wildly.
The Husband points to a black pick-up truck. "I got a new truck!", he says excitedly. The Wife knew the Husband was going to get a new truck for his business, but this was not the surprise she was expecting. She stood by the truck quietly, listening to the husband talk about his new truck. After a couple of minutes the Husband pauses and looks at the Wife. "I know you aren't really into this stuff. I just wanted to bring it by to show you." The Wife nods. They say their goodbyes. Just as the Wife is about to step back inside her place of work she turns to look a the Husband. "You know, I am happy you got a new truck. I guess I'm just a little disappointed, considering this is our anniversary. Do you know how hard my heart was beating when you said 'come here, I have to show you something'?"
The Husband immediately looks down at his watch, rechecking the date. "Oh, #%$^!!", he exclaims.
That night the Wife came home to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and was treated to a nice dinner out.
And so began their 33rd year of marriage...
The Wife left for work. No problems, she thought, he'll probably remember in a few hours and call. The wife went about her work day, not giving much thought to the whole situation. It was, after all, 32 years. Not 30, not 35, so she wasn't expecting much. Maybe a card, maybe some flowers, but for sure some sort of recognition that 32 years ago that day they had started a new life together.
At around 10 that morning the Husband shows up to the Wife's work. "Come out here", he said, motioning toward the door that leads to the parking lot, "I have something to show you". The Wife, understandably, gets very excited. Wow, she thinks, I wasn't expecting anything. This is great! I wonder what he got me?! She follows the Husband out to the parking lot, her heart beating wildly.
The Husband points to a black pick-up truck. "I got a new truck!", he says excitedly. The Wife knew the Husband was going to get a new truck for his business, but this was not the surprise she was expecting. She stood by the truck quietly, listening to the husband talk about his new truck. After a couple of minutes the Husband pauses and looks at the Wife. "I know you aren't really into this stuff. I just wanted to bring it by to show you." The Wife nods. They say their goodbyes. Just as the Wife is about to step back inside her place of work she turns to look a the Husband. "You know, I am happy you got a new truck. I guess I'm just a little disappointed, considering this is our anniversary. Do you know how hard my heart was beating when you said 'come here, I have to show you something'?"
The Husband immediately looks down at his watch, rechecking the date. "Oh, #%$^!!", he exclaims.
That night the Wife came home to a beautiful bouquet of flowers and was treated to a nice dinner out.
And so began their 33rd year of marriage...
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
A Letter to the Zoo
Dear Zoo,
Listen, I'll be honest here. I realize that maybe the Tapir exhibit isn't your biggest draw. I'm sure compared to the monkeys or tigers, or even the new Minnesota Trail, the Tapirs aren't high on the priority list.
Here's the thing, though. I have a daughter, and I realize she's not 'normal', but she loves tapirs. She knows quite a bit about them, and though we go to the zoo often, being members and all, she has never gotten to see the tapirs. Part of this is really our fault. We are usually there when it's nice out and skip the Tropics trail because it's indoors, and let's face it, we're really there for the family farm.
Then the MN trail opened, and it's right next to the Tropics trail (I know, kinda' weird), so we decided to change our zoo routine up a bit and headed over. The Tapir had a sore on it's foot and wasn't on exhibit because it was healing. Fair enough, I thought. I explained this to my daughter, who was very accepting giving her love for owies and bandages and such.
A few weeks later we decided to go to the zoo on a rainy day so we stuck to the indoor trails, and the Tapir was still off exhibit for it's poor foot. Once again, my daughter accepted this.
This past weekend, we decided to come back. We told our daughter that we would get to see the Tapir and how its foot healed. She was so excited. While we were leaving the dolphin show she told the woman at the door "I'm going to go and check how the Tapir's foot healed". At every animal pen along the tropics trail she looked in distractedly and then said "we have to go see the Tapir". As we headed down the trail my husband and I could see the dreaded sign. I could see the words "Off Exhibit" along the top. Now don't get me wrong, I think it's great that you want to improve the Tapir's pen and give it a nice new floor, but maybe you could've taken care of this while the Tapir was healing and off exhibit anyway? I understand that you probably don't have a lot of poeple up in arms because they can't see the Tapir, but look at us. Don't we look sad? Bring back the Tapir!! Do it for all of the weird three year old girls who saw a "Go, Diego, Go" episode about Tapirs and can't seem to let it go.
Listen, I'll be honest here. I realize that maybe the Tapir exhibit isn't your biggest draw. I'm sure compared to the monkeys or tigers, or even the new Minnesota Trail, the Tapirs aren't high on the priority list.
Here's the thing, though. I have a daughter, and I realize she's not 'normal', but she loves tapirs. She knows quite a bit about them, and though we go to the zoo often, being members and all, she has never gotten to see the tapirs. Part of this is really our fault. We are usually there when it's nice out and skip the Tropics trail because it's indoors, and let's face it, we're really there for the family farm.
Then the MN trail opened, and it's right next to the Tropics trail (I know, kinda' weird), so we decided to change our zoo routine up a bit and headed over. The Tapir had a sore on it's foot and wasn't on exhibit because it was healing. Fair enough, I thought. I explained this to my daughter, who was very accepting giving her love for owies and bandages and such.
A few weeks later we decided to go to the zoo on a rainy day so we stuck to the indoor trails, and the Tapir was still off exhibit for it's poor foot. Once again, my daughter accepted this.
This past weekend, we decided to come back. We told our daughter that we would get to see the Tapir and how its foot healed. She was so excited. While we were leaving the dolphin show she told the woman at the door "I'm going to go and check how the Tapir's foot healed". At every animal pen along the tropics trail she looked in distractedly and then said "we have to go see the Tapir". As we headed down the trail my husband and I could see the dreaded sign. I could see the words "Off Exhibit" along the top. Now don't get me wrong, I think it's great that you want to improve the Tapir's pen and give it a nice new floor, but maybe you could've taken care of this while the Tapir was healing and off exhibit anyway? I understand that you probably don't have a lot of poeple up in arms because they can't see the Tapir, but look at us. Don't we look sad? Bring back the Tapir!! Do it for all of the weird three year old girls who saw a "Go, Diego, Go" episode about Tapirs and can't seem to let it go.
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Monday, October 01, 2007
You know those hollow metal ducts that come out of your furnace to heat the rest of the house? They make a lot of noise when someone takes them apart
The furnace guy is here now. He got here just a little after 7. Right now he is sawing through the wall to put in a vent to the other side of the basement. Saying it is loud would be an understatement. We were downstairs and Back Seat Boy started crying the second the sawing started. Now we're upstairs watching Cinderella. I love, love this movie.
Earlier after BSB went down for his morning nap Back Seat Girl wanted to go play downstairs. HHmmm, I wonder why? Every time I needed to come upstairs for something--answer the phone, refill my coffee cup, get BSB after he woke up--I heard her start making small talk with the furnace guy.
I feel the need to interject here that "furnace guys" have a become a fixture in our lives. We have had the guy who inspected the furnace and deemed it "unsafe", three guys come out to do estimates, and now the installer. That's five differenet "furnace guys". BSG has chatted every one of them up. This morning I had a mild panic attack when I heard her tell Driver, with a mouth full of oatmeal, "I have to hurry up and eat breakfast so I can go downstairs because I think the furnace guy might need help". Um, no. Let's just let the young man do what he came here for so he's done sawing by afternoon nap time.
I also can't stop thinking about all of the money that this is costing us. I would seriously prefer a new wardrobe or a trip or even a kitchen remodel, which I guess would cost more, but then a partial kitchen remodel. Or? Or a new house with a new kitchen in it.
Earlier after BSB went down for his morning nap Back Seat Girl wanted to go play downstairs. HHmmm, I wonder why? Every time I needed to come upstairs for something--answer the phone, refill my coffee cup, get BSB after he woke up--I heard her start making small talk with the furnace guy.
I feel the need to interject here that "furnace guys" have a become a fixture in our lives. We have had the guy who inspected the furnace and deemed it "unsafe", three guys come out to do estimates, and now the installer. That's five differenet "furnace guys". BSG has chatted every one of them up. This morning I had a mild panic attack when I heard her tell Driver, with a mouth full of oatmeal, "I have to hurry up and eat breakfast so I can go downstairs because I think the furnace guy might need help". Um, no. Let's just let the young man do what he came here for so he's done sawing by afternoon nap time.
I also can't stop thinking about all of the money that this is costing us. I would seriously prefer a new wardrobe or a trip or even a kitchen remodel, which I guess would cost more, but then a partial kitchen remodel. Or? Or a new house with a new kitchen in it.
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