Not a Cuddler

It's rainy and cold here today, and I'm in 'clean the house' mode, which is rare, and should be taken advantage of. Since we haven't really been following our weekly movie days around here now that it's finally been nice, I told Back Seat Girl she could watch a movie when she woke up from her nap. When she woke up the first words out of her mouth were "Can I watch Cinderella now?".

We went into the living room and I started the movie. Back Seat Boy was still sleeping, and BSG just looked so cute sitting on the couch excitedly waiting for her movie, that I asked if I could cuddle with her for a little while. I was already sitting next to her on the couch, and that was apparently enough for her. "You can just sit there", she told me. After a minute or so I leaned over and gave her a hug and kissed her on the cheek. She made a face and said "I told you you can sit next to me". Then she touched my leg with her toe and said "See, isn't this nice?"

I'm hoping she keeps this up into her teenage years. Should really reduce that teenage pregnancy risk.

Snatiation

For all of you who are familiar with Driver's weird habit of sneezing after eating too much or being overly full (he often blames the 'bubbles from beer' for making him too full), here is some interesting reading for you. I don't know why we never thought to google it before, but tonight after taking the kids to our local ice cream parlor run by a huge, hairy biker full of tattoos (another reason to love Richfield), Driver was having a sneezing fit, and I casually asked if he'd ever googled 'sneezing when full' before. He immediately sat down at the computer, and a phenomenon that has plagued him for years, something I, along with many of his friends, have been teasing him about since college, finally has a name.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sneeze
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snatiation

More stubborn (and perhaps smarter) than we thought he was

Dear [Back Seat Boy],
The jig is up. I know your secret. If you didn't want me to find out than you shouldn't have put on that little show at your Dr's appt. Maybe you wanted to make a fool out of mama? I tell the Dr "he still can't walk", the Dr takes you across the room, and you immediately start whimpering and walk across the room to me.

Here's something you should know about secrets. Once you let the world know, you can't make them un-know it. For instance, on Wednesday I saw you walk, without the aid of someone's hand, farther than any of the faltering, falling down steps you've taken at home. Now I know you can walk. The Dr. saw you walk and told me you can walk. I have a witness. This means that you can't pretend you don't know how when we're home. You can't crumple to the ground and crawl to me when I leave you standing somewhere and say "Walk to mommy!". You can't cry and reach for my hand when I tell you to walk the few steps between the rocking chair and your bookshelf to pick out books. You can't stand up, by yourself, in the middle of a room to throw a ball, then look right at me with that shitty grin on your face, slowly crouch down to a crawling position, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time, and crawl to get your ball.

I will admit that a few weeks ago I was heard saying that I really didn't need you to walk, because I love the way you crawl around, and I thought I was going to miss it. I figured this was the last 'baby' thing you do, and once you started walking you would stop being a baby and start being a toddler. I will probably miss the way you 'dance' while crawling, and the sight and sound of you crawling while holding something, but I have video and pictures, and quite honestly--YOU ARE 18 MONTHS OLD!! YOU WEIGH 26 POUNDS! I love you, but this is starting to wear a little thin.

In conclusion: I know you can walk, you know you can walk, and, according to the Dr, you need a little "motivation". Well, I can tell you that we will start walking across the bridge at the playground. I will hold your hand, but there will be no more crawling over all of the playground equipment. Second, I will no longer rush to you to clean off your hands when you hold them up to me, whining, because we are outside and you got tree buds or other miscellaneous pieces of nature on them crawling around the yard. If you really need to be held by someone you really don't like to find the motivation to walk, then I will find a total stranger to come over every day and hold you across the room from me until you figure out that walking is a much more efficient way to get around than crawling. Please, Back Seat Boy, please. I really think you'll have so much more fun this summer if you just get those chubby little legs underneath you and start walking around.

Love,
Mama

Ruining her chances of running for public office one post at a time

This conversation took place while Back Seat Girl was sitting on the potty and the rest of us were in the living room:
BSG: OOH! I smell my poopy!
D: What does it smell like?
BSG: Yucky!!
Pause...
BSG: I've got poopy hanging out!
Small Pause...
BSG: I got rid of it!!

Here are some miscellaneous pictures. The family one was taken at the Twins game. We did some self portraits (held the camera out in front of us) which I thought were pretty cool, the problem was that half of someone's head was always cut off. I guess that's what you have to deal with in a family full of large-headed people.

Still doesn't like haircuts

"Smile like this?"

concentrating

"Excuse me, but you are sitting in front of a ball I would very much like to play with."

Singing AND getting her picture taken. That's multitasking for you.

I took the kids to get some long overdue haircuts today. We always get the first appointments, and Back Seat Girl is always first. When she woke up this morning the first thing she said to Driver was "I'm going to get my hair cut today!".

Today's appointment went like the first two times I've had to take them both to get cut. The hairdresser says "Who wants to go first?" and BSG bounds over without a backwards glance. After I gave instructions for her haircut I took Back Seat Boy over to another waiting hairdresser, and as soon as he realized he was going to be put down into the chair he started crying. Frosted animal cookie? No, won't even look at it, much less grab it. Look! Barney on TV!! Nope, not looking at that either. He cried and drooled and ate just enough of his cookie that the front of his cape was wet with slightly frosted drool. Then, just to make his point, he managed to drool so much that it was running off of the cape onto the floor. He got mad. He reached for me. He got all red and splotchy. The second I picked him up, he stopped. I wish that kid would understand I'm paying pretty decent money to get his haircut and it's hard to get a good haircut when the subject is screaming and reaching for his mommy the whole time.

Meanwhile, across the room, BSG chatted happily with the girl cutting her hair. Every once in a while I can hear her say "[BSB]" in a sing-song way to try to get him to stop crying, but for the most part she's just talking away. I made my way over to her with her brother, who looked like he had a beard since his hair was stuck to his wet face, and got there just in time to hear the hairdresser ask her what color her hair was. "Blonde", replied BSG matter-of-factly. "How did you get to be so smart?" asked her hairdresser. BSG had no answer, so the hairdresser turned and told me she'd been counting and talking and carrying on. In fact, BSG was so charming she managed to get a free braid out of the deal. I'm telling you, that girl charms the pants off of strangers. I rarely go anywhere with her without having a conversation with a total stranger either about her or started by her. Really, if she's acting like a brat around you, you should take it as a compliment--she feels comfortable with you. If you're a stranger she'll be on her best behaviour.

Dear March,

I know today is just a tease. You can't fool me. Don't try to get me all excited about spring again, March. I won't fall for it twice.

Hugs and Kisses,
Shotgun

He is Risen!

Happy Easter!!

[insert picture of a happy family here. Not a family where the little girl is eating jelly beans out of an egg holding it just out of reach of her baby brother who is freaking out and reaching for the "ball, ball!", with a mom and dad trying to look happy and peacefull and failing miserably.]

A Poem

By: Back Seat Girl

Perfume, perfume
I got a friend with two Perfumes
His name is Fred

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

You knew I was going to mention this eventually, didn't you?

I just finished reading the "Sports Illustrated" Special Tribute Edition on Brett Favre. Cover to Cover. I read every word, every photo caption, everything, and I relished it all.

Favre played 16 years as a Packer, which means I was 14 that fateful day when Don "The Majic Man" Majkowski got hurt and he stepped up to win the game. He started every game for the Packers after that. For 16 years. That is amazing to me. I hate calling in sick to work, but I've still done it from time to time, and for the past 4 years I haven't even worked full time. Also, as I look back on my almost 8 year career at the VA, I can't recall a time when anyone has ever open-field tackled me in the lab.

I remember the terrible times before Brett Favre. All of those losing seasons. I think the last time they made it to the playoffs before Brett took them there in '93 was in 1982. That's just getting to the playoffs. They hadn't even gotten to the post season in 11 years. I remember Randy Wright (Randy WRONG), Anthony Dillweg, and, of course, Don Majkowski. I also remember Majkowski's sexified commercials on local TV, but that's beside the point.

I was in Winona during their Super Bowl years, and I felt cheated. I was in MN, where most of my classmates came from somewhere in MN, and they did not like Brett Favre or the Packers. Luckily we could get local stations from LaCrosse, so I did manage to watch a lot of Packers coverage on the news, but at my parent's house the local news is from Green Bay, and their lead story of almost every newscast during the football season was about the Packers. Everything you've heard about the mania in that state regarding their football team is true. It's something, and it's really fun to be a part of. I used to regularly argue with my teacher in gradeschool on Monday mornings about the Packers. "They should play this guy", "No, he sucks, they should stay with this guy".

I'm sad to see him go. No matter how the season was going, he was always fun to watch. I know that we probably won't hear from him much now. He'll resurface when they induct him into the Hall of Fame and then disappear again. I'm glad that I will get to tell my children and grandchildren that 'yea, I remember watching Brett Favre play', and even though they will roll their eyes and wonder why I think they care, I'll care.

So there you have it. The post I've been trying to avoid writing since I heard the sad news two weeks ago. I guess my WI roots just won't let me be quiet about the subject. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find my cheesehead and get back to work.

A picture essay

I have to admit I, like many other people who live in this state, have started having very dark thoughts about living in this state. I mean, last week Back Seat Girl went sledding and made snow angels. It's just the time of year that everyone hits the wall, I think. The wall being When Is Winter Going To Go Away? We all know it won't oficially be warm for a very long time, but days like today give me hope.

Driver took the plastic off the sliding glass door in the kitchen last night after the kids went to bed. The first time Back Seat Boy was crawling around the kitchen this morning he smacked his head on the glass. He just turned around and looked at my like "what the hell?" It was pretty funny.

And following are some pictures so you can see how each day has slowly gotten better. Except for the first picture. That picture is just so you can see the kind of girl I live with. The kind of girl who, when asked if she has a particular card in 'Go Fish' answers "I do not indeed".

Don't act like you've never cleaned up your room wearing a pink leotard and dance skirt. I was just happy she was actually cleaning her room like I asked.

Pictured above is our walk from yesterday. We also took a walk on Tuesday, which was much nicer what with the sun and all, but I didn't bring the camera that day. This day we were all pretty cold when we got home.

That is BSG waiting for a bird to fly onto her finger. When I told her I thought that it probably wouldn't happen seeing as how birds are afraid of humans, she replied "But Mary Poppins did it. She got a robin to land on her finger. Then she sang that song!" I stand corrected.

This is the best shot I got of BSB from that same day. He was on my back in the carrier, so I just held the camera up and hoped for the best.

This is today. We had our afternoon snack outside. Notice BSG in a skirt. She actually kept it on for at least 5 minutes before declaring she was freezing and going in to change. BSB does not understand the concept of looking at the camera.

That face. It kills me. I have to restrain myself from eating him a million times a day.

See-more sensible pants.

Also-BSB got to try out his new shoes outside. I held his hands and he walked around on the cement and the wet grass. He must pay attention to us, too, because after we got inside the first thing he did after I set him down on the rug by the door was hold up his feet for me to take his shoes off.

The definition of a sensitive boy

To be fair, I should mention that at one point he actually beat the baby in the head with the ball.

If only you could bottle it

After Back Seat Girl's last gymnastics class, Driver and I decided to enroll her again for the spring session. Before I go any further, I want to say this: "Spring session"? Who are they kidding? Why don't they just go ahead and be honest and call it the "Last part of winter where you want to curl up and die" session?

Anyway, we were the only people who signed up for the pre-beginner 3 year old class. They offered to let me into the class that's a step up for the same price as the pre-beginners, and though I was a bit nervous we showed up Monday night to see how it would go. BSG was in her leotard with pants and boots on, ready for some gymnastics action.

Well, after waiting for half an hour at the gym for the class I thought BSG was going to be in to start at 5 it turns out that the next class up that was being offered this session is actually the beginner 1 class for 5-7 year olds who have passed all of the pre-beginner classes. It runs from 5:30-6:30, a half an hour longer than her other class. I don't think I saw BSG do anything other than heavily assisted front and back rolls on inclined mats in the last class. Well, I guess they did do some walking on the low beam while holding the instructor's hand, but still. When I was shown the class she would be in I almost got up and left. The only thing that stopped me was the look on BSG's face. She wanted to go so bad. I was told to stay and let BSG observe the class with me.

People started filing into the gym and I looked around. BSG, who is already small for her age, was tiny compared with the girls I saw around me. We walked in and she saw the girls who were ready with the instructors on the floor doing warm-up excercises. Poeple were still arriving as the instructors (all high-school girls) started to explain the rules of the gym to the seated class. BSG watched them and started asking if she could take off her pants and boots and join them. I knew there was no way she would be content to sit and watch with Back Seat Boy and I, so I let her strip down to her leotard.

As soon as her clothes were off, she started running. I stopped her and said "[BSG], if you feel like you don't like it and want to stop you can come and sit with me and watch, it's OK". She turned around and said "OK, mommy, but I think I will like gymnastics class a lot" and ran, without any hesitation, out onto the floor with her blonde ponytail bobbing and sat down in the midst of a group of girls, none of whom she'd ever met before, who were all at least 2 years older and much bigger than her, and started listening to the instructors. I sat BSB down and took off his jacket, and whispered into his ear "She's so small". At first my heart hurt a bit to watch her. I wanted to have her sit with me so I could protect her, because I don't ever want her to feel like she's the worst at something, to have such an unfair disadvantage to these girls, because really, do any of us ever want to see our children hurt or disappointed?

After a while, though, I realized something. When do we lose that confidence? That complete lack of self-consciousness. When do we get the fear that maybe we won't be good at something, that maybe we'll be the worst at something, that maybe we'll make huge fools of ourselves in front of a bunch of strangers? I know that it will happen someday to BSG. Some day she will be afraid to try something or go somewhere because maybe she doesn't know how? Or she doesn't know anyone! Or she might get embarrassed! That thought makes me sad, because I see how she is now, and I always want her to have that confidence. I guess it's my job to make sure she retains as much of her can-do attitude, her confidence, her lack of self-consciousness as she possibly can.

It turns out that they allow two levels to have class at the same time and are split up according to age. BSG and one other little girl are the only level ones in class right now, and they have two instructors dedicated to teach level one, which means basically one on one instruction. BSG had a GREAT time. I am no longer allowed to watch, which means next week I will be dropping her off for an hour with only the supervision of a bunch of teenage girls. You know what, though? I'm pretty sure she can handle it.

Winona, MN

This past weekend Driver and I went down to Winona, where we attended college at Winona State University from 1994-1999 collectively. The one thought that kept crossing our minds while we walked around on campus was why all of the college students keep getting younger while we don't age. I felt a little better when I came to the realization that the people we kept seeing on campus were most likely freshman and sophomores, since upper classmen tend to live off campus in crappy old houses that probably used to be really amazing but are now chopped up into five seperate apartments.

We had a really good time, mainly because we had nothing to do all day Saturday except make sure we got to "A Praire Home Companion" on time. We slept in, went out for coffee, walked around campus, went to one of our favorite places for lunch, and killed the afternoon by driving around, walking around the lake, and going to one of our favorite bars for happy hour.

The one thing we were really disappointed in was the fact that many of the buildings on campus were locked. We were able to get into Kryzko commons but that was about it. We noticed that they had keypads near the doors and at one point saw two poeple enter the science building with a key, but other than that we could only look in with our noses pressed against the glass. In 2004 they opened a brand-new science center and we had to miss the open house they had. We were really looking forward to seeing it considering the building we had our science classes in was built in, I don't know, maybe the 60s? And man, it hadn't changed AT ALL. Imagine our grand disappointment when we realized the building was locked. We looked longingly in and when our eyes adjusted and we could see past our reflections in the window we realized there were two students at a table looking back at us.

Pasteur Hall, the science building Driver and I spent a lot of time as students. There used to be a street in front of the building and there was always this really nice red Chevette--that's right, a Chevette, parked out front. I also once pantsed Driver on those steps there, something he will never let me forget.

Here is Driver looking longlingly into the new Science Laboratory Center. I bet when we were students there we never would have wanted to get in as badly as we did this weekend.

I have a few other pictures and anecdotes to post, but the whole time I've been typing this I've been ignoring the sounds of Back Seat boy in his room, talking and banging on the wall after his not even one hour nap. I'm not happy about that, because I know he'll be horribly cranky tonight and won't understand it at all when I tell him that if he had just taken a decent nap this afternoon his outlook on life would be SO MUCH BETTER.

The McAghon's Were An Interesting Bunch

We've all heard about the murder, but what about the yachtsman, the policeman, the labor mediator and the woman's field hockey superstar sisters from the 30's. They were all McAghons. I've known about the New York Times archive for awhile now but haven't searched it. I has some time over lunch and took a look. Here are some of the articles that I was able to save, the rest I had to pay for. There were a ton of articles that I couldn't save regarding the McAghon Sisters field hockey stardom in New York City and Justin McAghon, the well respected labor negotiator and Catholic Layman.

Here are links to some of the articles.

http://www.box.net/shared/04yoe7yo8k
http://www.box.net/shared/5a6urcdicw
http://www.box.net/shared/w1trfi5mo0
http://www.box.net/shared/mf8sgqtwo8

This is the year she realizes how far north we really live

Back Seat Girl announced she was "Sick of being cold" after she walked out to the car to go to daycare this morning.

On our way home this afternoon she started naming off all of the things she could do when it is summer again:
"Wear tank tops!"
"Wear shorts!"
"Wear flip flops!"
"Walk barefoot outside!"

The poor girl. We have weeks upon weeks of this left. I can't even tell her how many 'dark naps' and 'light naps' there will be. Too many to count. She's bumming me out.

A tiny giant

Today Back Seat Boy decided he would try to get inside the small play tent we bought the kids for Christmas.

Because I'm not good at keeping baby books

Some of the things Back Seat Girl has said to/asked us in the last week or so:

"What happens to your bones when you have diarrhea?"

"Why did God make people?"

"What happens to your brain when you are sick?"

"When my next tooth comes in it will be shaped like a tube. Yea, like poop."

We are teaching her to play Uno:
Driver: "I don't have a two or a yellow card so I have to..."
BSG: "Here, I have a two!!"

Driver: "I'm all out of cards, I wo..."
BSG (handing over her cards): "Here, I have these cards left."

We are downstairs, I'm pretending to be her baby, she walks up to her play kitchen:
"I have to cook supper now. Supper isn't going to cook itself!"

"What happens to you when your brain gets a hole in it?"

Sick Season

I know people always say "something must be going around", but I have to say based on the last two weeks I think that has definitely been the case around here.

About two weeks ago Driver came down with a cold. Bad enough to make him feel crappy, but still managed to drag himself to work. A few days later Back Seat Boy started getting a stuffy nose and that morphed into a high fever, tons and tons of disgusting green nasal drainage, and an ear infection. He is FINALLY starting to get back to being himself after 4 days of antibiotics. Back Seat Girl has a nice runny nose, but she is acting fine. She ran a fever for one night but then woke up the next day like nothing was going on. The last two days at work the sick board has been full of names of people who normally NEVER call in sick. Through all of this I have been perfectly fine. I felt like I was bathing in BSB's mucous, but amazingly no runny nose, no fever, nothing.

The last two days, however, I've been a little "off". I'm not saying I'm coming down with it, but if I do, Driver will be pretty happy. I think he's getting sick of hearing me go on and on about my amazing immune system.

I swear she can read

We were at the pet store picking up food for Kahlua. A nice Petco employee was feeding the small animals and latched on to us. She showed Back Seat Girl the animals and asked lots of questions. At one point she asked BSG how old she was, to which BSG replied "three and a half". I don't know where she got that, but as of the 25th of this month she is three and a half. Maybe she can read the calendar? Sometimes she scares me.

Immediately after that BSG is looking at a cage of gerbils, and asks "are these the common mice?". Um, "common"mice? The Petco employee looks up at me, a bit startled. I shrug my shoulders. I don't believe I've ever uttered the phrase "common mice" before. Then the Petco employee takes BSG to the cage right next to that one where there is a sticker on one corner announcing that those were the common mice.

Dude. I thought we were just learning letter sounds. I'm a bit freaked out.