This morning we were driving home from church listening to Back Seat Girl's Disney CD. "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" came on and I turned it up to sing along. Back Seat Girl told us it was too loud, but she had been a tyrant all morning and we were sick of her tantrums and bossiness, so we left the volume where it was and kept on singing.
Driver and I were really getting into it, bopping along in our seats and singing as loudly as we could, when BSG yelled "You guys are driving me nuts!", complete with her fingers in her ears.
I would like to say that we scolded her and told her not to talk to us like that, but we started laughing so hard I actually had tears in my eyes.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Friday, August 10, 2007
Update on !@#&$#@!!! or whatever I said before
We got one estimate on the furnace today by the same company who told us it was going to try to kill us this winter and shut it off by putting a big red tag on it and calling it 'unsafe'. I sure hope the people who came through the house today liked it Nothing says "BUY ME" like an unsafe furnace. Or, how about the fact that Back Seat Girl spilled 500 gallons of water on the carpeting downstairs and the carpeting dried but the pad underneath is soaked so it seems like there is water seeping up out of the ground into the basement. I think buyers are looking for something like that, right?
Anyway, I'm having someone from Minnegasco come out for another estimate. Those people owe me. I have been paying for their "Service Plus Plan" for almost 5 years now since our furnace was so old and I've never used it once, since the furnace has always worked. (Little did I know it's plans to kill us this winter.) They should give me one for half price.
P.S. It is really hot outside. Trust me. I was once again walking around pushing a stroller at high noon. Can't complain, though, I took the kids out to lunch and they were both as good as gold. I love it when they make me look like a good mom!
Anyway, I'm having someone from Minnegasco come out for another estimate. Those people owe me. I have been paying for their "Service Plus Plan" for almost 5 years now since our furnace was so old and I've never used it once, since the furnace has always worked. (Little did I know it's plans to kill us this winter.) They should give me one for half price.
P.S. It is really hot outside. Trust me. I was once again walking around pushing a stroller at high noon. Can't complain, though, I took the kids out to lunch and they were both as good as gold. I love it when they make me look like a good mom!
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Sunday, August 05, 2007
9 Months of Back Seat Boy
Well, Back Seat Boy, you've officially been outside of my body as long as you spent inside of it. While it was easier to take care of you when you were hitching a ride inside my uterus growing body parts, I must say I am having much more fun watching you now that you are on the outside. Although, I did get more sleep before, so I was wondering if you could work on waking up a little later in the morning?
First of all, you are so freakin' cute. We went to Iowa to visit your Mam and Pap this past week for a few days and I think your Mam and I had at least 5 conversations a day based soley on the subject of your cuteness. Those brown eyes, all of that hair, and those impossible cheeks really add up to one handsome little man.
You have two teeth now. They showed up like little pieces of popcorn, popping out of your bottom gum, one right after another. Though you have been a drool monster as of late, I haven't seen any evidence of new ones. That's fine with me, because those two little teeth have made your smile more perfect than it already was.
You have started mimicing us now, so I taught you a trick. I look at you and start whipping my head back and forth, and then you do the same, often accompanying it with an "aaahhhh". You've even started doing it first and then looking around the room to see who is going to do it back.
This morning I had to work, and we also had an open house, so I was in the living room pretty early trying to wrap up the cord for the vacuum cleaner, when I started hearing this noise. Since your bedroom and the living room share a wall, I figured it must be you. Then I heard your familiar "Da Da Da Da Da!", and I realized the sound I was hearing was your tiny fat feet hitting the mattress as hard as you could make them. You do this when you're excited, lift both of those short, chubby little legs high in the air and then bringing them down as hard as you can, over and over.
First of all, you are so freakin' cute. We went to Iowa to visit your Mam and Pap this past week for a few days and I think your Mam and I had at least 5 conversations a day based soley on the subject of your cuteness. Those brown eyes, all of that hair, and those impossible cheeks really add up to one handsome little man.
You have two teeth now. They showed up like little pieces of popcorn, popping out of your bottom gum, one right after another. Though you have been a drool monster as of late, I haven't seen any evidence of new ones. That's fine with me, because those two little teeth have made your smile more perfect than it already was.
You have started mimicing us now, so I taught you a trick. I look at you and start whipping my head back and forth, and then you do the same, often accompanying it with an "aaahhhh". You've even started doing it first and then looking around the room to see who is going to do it back.
This morning I had to work, and we also had an open house, so I was in the living room pretty early trying to wrap up the cord for the vacuum cleaner, when I started hearing this noise. Since your bedroom and the living room share a wall, I figured it must be you. Then I heard your familiar "Da Da Da Da Da!", and I realized the sound I was hearing was your tiny fat feet hitting the mattress as hard as you could make them. You do this when you're excited, lift both of those short, chubby little legs high in the air and then bringing them down as hard as you can, over and over.
You are getting quite vocal now, and on our way home from Iowa suddenly realized that you didn't have to sit in the back seat quietly staring out the window making the people in the front seat wonder if you were even awake. No, you could talk and scream (you still scream like a girl) and shout really, really loud. No, seriously, REALLY loud. It was great. After a long while, I thought maybe you were tired and having a hard time falling asleep, so I found your pacifier in the bag next to me and managed to hand it back to you. Back Seat Girl informed me that you put it in your mouth, but about 1 minute later you had pulled it out to commence with the loud noises.
You love to use your legs, you know, to stand on. It's weird, because you're not even a year and a half old yet. You don't pull yourself up, but if I stand you up next to a piece of furniture you'll stand there and look around the room with the a huge grin and this look on your face like you are THE SHIT.
Tonight I gave you a graham cracker for the first time. I was hoping this would be a good thing to keep you happy and occupied for a while so I could make dinner. It would take your sister forever to eat a cracker. Come to think of it, it still does. You could give that girl something that's supposed to be bite size, as in one bite, and she'll take 15 minutes and 25 bites to finish it. Anyway, you pretty much stuffed that graham cracker into your mouth in no time and then looked at me for more. And then yelled at me for more. And then pounded your tray and yelled at me for more. I guess the cracker trick is not going to make grocery shopping easier.
Who knows what's going to happen next, but rest assured, it will come with quart after quart of drool.
We love you, Little Man!!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Truly Horrible
I just thought I would take a minute to say that I am in Iowa right now, and if I wasn't I would have a hard time believing that the rest of the country really is watching what is happening in our city right now. Since I can't watch the local affiliates I've been watching Fox news, and they have done nothing but talk about it since it happened. I do believe I've seen every eyewitness to the bridge collapse interviewed several times.
I can't believe that a bridge just collapsed. How did no one see this coming? I mean, there were construction crews on it looking at it every day. I just imagine it creaking or groaning or something, or a worker taking a look at a particularly large crack, and maybe a red flag going up. I guess that's not how it works, but I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that suddenly, just like that, the bridge stopped being able to hold itself up and fell into the river.
The most horrifying thing I've heard so far is the accounts of divers being given messages by people who were trapped in their cars in the river and knew they weren't going to make it. Messages to their loved ones. Messages saying goodbye. I can't even imagine. I'm happy I don't have to. My heart goes out to those who have received those messages, and those people who are still waiting.
I can't believe that a bridge just collapsed. How did no one see this coming? I mean, there were construction crews on it looking at it every day. I just imagine it creaking or groaning or something, or a worker taking a look at a particularly large crack, and maybe a red flag going up. I guess that's not how it works, but I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that suddenly, just like that, the bridge stopped being able to hold itself up and fell into the river.
The most horrifying thing I've heard so far is the accounts of divers being given messages by people who were trapped in their cars in the river and knew they weren't going to make it. Messages to their loved ones. Messages saying goodbye. I can't even imagine. I'm happy I don't have to. My heart goes out to those who have received those messages, and those people who are still waiting.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
3 Years Old
Yesterday Back Seat Girl turned 3. I meant to write a post ON her birthday, but I was busy baking 56 cupcakes while holding a baby and trying not to make too big of a mess, and then I spent all night cleaning up because I was not successfull at not making a big mess.
OK, BSG, what do I say about you? You are something. I'm sitting here struggling to figure out what to write about you. How can I capture your personality in a few paragraphs?
Thinking is your game, that's for sure. A question as simple as "Which Diego do you want to watch, the one about the llama or the one about the river dolphin?" makes you actually stop and think. There are bells going off in my head as I try hard not to say "hurry up already, dinner isn't going to cook itself!",but I let you decide in your own time, because I know you well enough now to know that if I did you'd take twice as long.
You also think before doing anything physical. You are almost more cautious at the park this year than you were last summer, and I think it's because you have an even better grasp on what could happen to you if you fell or something bad happened. It's very hard for me not to push you, and when I let you do your own thing inevitably you wind up playing a cute little pretend game that you made up on the spot. You give me glimpses into that brain of yours and I realize for as much as you talk, there is so much more going on up there than we realize.
The other day on the way home from your daycare you asked where the Twins were as we were passing the highschool baseball field. You answered yourself before I even had a chance to chime in by reasoning that it must be school time. When I explained to you that those were highschool kids we had seen a couple of months ago playing there and the Twins played at the big baseball field we went to last year with Grandma and Grandpa, you went into a whole story about how the big baseball field was on the way to Dawny's special house. Apparently there are lots of kitties and puppies there. The Dalmation puppies had names: Belle, Tinkerbell, Princess Aurora, Home Depot, and Regular School Bus. Yea, that's right, two of their names were Home Depot and Regular School Bus. The girl dalmation puppies had pink spots, but Home Depot was a boy so he had black spots. I tried hard not to drive off the road, because that was hilarious.
You can recognize letters in words, and I actually think you are much better at this than we think you are. Driver was wearing his Bear's t-shirt and you recognized the 'E' and the 'A', and you can even tell some upper and lowercase letters apart. You also were coloring the other day and said 'C' is for washable markers, which confused your father until he realized that they said 'Crayola' down the side. You love to find things with words on them and then point to them and tell us what they say. Amazingly they usually say things about you getting something you really want. When you open up books to read you always go to the copywrite page and say emphatically "this book was written in 19**". Lately 1968 seems to be a popular year.
You also do some simple math, like adding 1 to 2 makes you 3 years old, or taking one monkey away from 5 means there are 4 monkeys left (I knew that book was going to teach you subraction!!). The problem with you is, you are also very stubborn, so if we ask you "what letter is that?" or "how many cookies are there on the table" you will only answer if you feel like it. This makes it hard for us to know exactly what you can and can not do. It frustrates me to no end, but as I'm sure my mom would say, like mother, like daughter.
I guess since I've talked about your brain I will also mention your gross motor skills. You are about the least physical little girl ever. You have just recently started to demand to walk up and down stairs by yourself, and when you do you have to hold on to the railing for dear life with one hand. Many times you still opt to slide down or crawl up, and when I ask you to please stand up and do it like a big girl you look at me like "why would I do that when this is so much easier?",and then proceed to ignore me and do it your way. You have just recently learned how to jump, that is actually jump and your two feet leave the earth ever so briefly. Tonight we had to leave the house for a showing so we went to walk around the mall, and for the first time you jumped a couple of times in a row and jumped from point A to point B. Did you hear me? You actually covered ground while jumping. Driver and I were very impressed.
You are going through a stage now where you have decided that if we are telling you something you don't want to hear you just don't listen. It is exceedingly frustrating to me. I know it's what a 3 year old does, but I can't stand to be so openly disobeyed. You also try to rationalize WHY you didn't just listen to me, and since you have such a great command of the english language sometimes I find myself I actually giving your rationalization some thought. You always end up in the naughty chair when you disobey, and now you crawl on up all by yourself, sit there resolutely with puppy or Pork Roll or both, and when your time is up I ask you "why did mommy put you in the naughty chair?". Sometimes you remember, sometimes you don't. I always remind you and then tell you you have to listen to mommy. Then I make you apologize, which you do, with a bright smile and a big kiss and hug, and even though I know you aren't going to listen to me the next time I can't stay mad at you as you skip away to play another imaginary game.
You have the greatest habit of sining songs now. Most of them you make up yourself. They can be songs about stuff we have done, stuff we are going to do, or things we are currently doing. Tonight at the mall you were walking along singing "we're going home, now". Of course you weren't looking where you were going and you weren't walking in a straight line, which made it even funnier.
I just realized I haven't mentioned your talking, and I think it's because it's such a part of our daily lives now Idon't even think about it. You talk all day long, every day, only pausing to nap and sleep at night. You talk in full, adult sentences, using words that I'm pretty sure Driver can't spell. It's just a part of our life. The sun will rise, BSG will talk. and talk. and talk some more.
See, I knew I couldn't summarize you in a few paragraphs. There is so much more I could write--your penchant for running into walls and falling down (you came home from camping with a black eye and also had your first bloody nose the first day we were gone), the fact that you recently realized you can open your bedroom door, your love of pink and dresses, the fact that you have no fear of bugs or spiders, the way you think everyone at the playground or beach would like to play with you, no matter how much older or bigger than you they are, how you like to look under the stalls in public bathrooms to comment on people's shoes, or the way you have started interacting with your brother, but it's getting late and I need to go to bed.
Just know this, you are one in eleventeen (your favorite number) million, and we love you so, so much.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
The 7 Year Itch
On July 22, 2000, Driver and I got married in a little country church in Wisconsin where I grew up. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and we were surrounded by our family and friends. Who could ask for more?
On July 22, 2007 Driver and I woke up at Itasca National park to rain outside our tent. We ate breakfast in the tent with our beautiful children, packed our wagon full (and I mean FULL) of wet camping supplies, and headed for home. We had just enjoyed a great vacation surrounded by the little people we love the most. Who could ask for anything more?
Thank you, Driver, for giving me everything I have ever wanted out of life. Now I'll go back and clean up the kitchen like you think I'm doing while you unpack all of our wet camping supplies.
On July 22, 2007 Driver and I woke up at Itasca National park to rain outside our tent. We ate breakfast in the tent with our beautiful children, packed our wagon full (and I mean FULL) of wet camping supplies, and headed for home. We had just enjoyed a great vacation surrounded by the little people we love the most. Who could ask for anything more?
Thank you, Driver, for giving me everything I have ever wanted out of life. Now I'll go back and clean up the kitchen like you think I'm doing while you unpack all of our wet camping supplies.
Monday, July 16, 2007
No, a pack of wild dogs is not really ripping off his arms
Over the weekend, Back Seat Boy started to roll on purpose to get things he wanted. We're not talking rolling over multiple times. Oh, no--this is the product of Driver and I here, and we only make one type of baby: pudgy, short-legged, tiny hands, finger toes, and no motivation to move on their own. No, BSB will be laying on his back, spy something to the side of him out of reach, roll over onto his tummy to reach it, and then roll back on his back to play with it. I know that this isn't a lot, but Back Seat Girl seriously never rolled over even once to get anything, she just refused to be on her stomach if she could avoid it. BSB has started sleeping on his tummy, so I guess he has decided that it's not all that bad.
Back Seat Boy also loves to stand. He (of course!) won't pull himself up or anything, but he loves to bear weight on his legs and stand on his changing table to look around. He's actually quite good at it. I, of course, have some low standards here, but you can just hold his hands and he'll stand for quite a while.
All in all it looks like BSB is showing more interest in moving around than his sister did (is it possible to show any less?). I was starting to get a little scared. Not because it bothered me that BSG took so long to move on her own, but because lately BSB has started to make a noise when he needs a toy he can't reach that would make me give him a set of steak knives if that's what he wanted as long as he would stop. I can't even describe what it sounds like, but he opens his mouth wide and gives it his all. He may be a basically content and mellow baby, but god forbid you sit him in his highchair with no cheerios on his tray RIGHT NOW, or the ball he was chewing on rolls away, or something with a tag is out of his reach, because it sounds like a pack of wild dogs is slowly pulling his arms off.
We're about to start a pretty busy two weeks around our house. We're leaving for vacation on Wednesday morning (if you're reading this and you're a burglar--we have a HUGE, MEAN dog), we're driving home from vacation on our anniversary, the following weekend we're having some family visit and hosting a birthday party for BSG, and after the party we're going to go out and celebrate my birthday. The whole while we are hoping (please, GOD) to have our house on the market. We spent all of this past weekend, with the help of Mam and Pap on Sunday, washing, fixing, painting, and yelling "Back Seat Girl, No--don't play with the paint. No, you can't help me, this is a big person job. I know you're a big girl, but...Hey--don't touch that. What did mommy say?". We have to be done with this now because Driver and I are exhausted.
We will be sure to post pictures of our trip as soon as possible. Also upcoming will be BSG's birthday post where I will try to capture the essence of BSG without going on and on forever and ever, amen, and a link where you can see some of the professional photographs we had taken last week in our front yard. I know you are all excited.
Updated: Our photos are up from the shoot last week! http://www.photographym.blogspot.com
Back Seat Boy also loves to stand. He (of course!) won't pull himself up or anything, but he loves to bear weight on his legs and stand on his changing table to look around. He's actually quite good at it. I, of course, have some low standards here, but you can just hold his hands and he'll stand for quite a while.
All in all it looks like BSB is showing more interest in moving around than his sister did (is it possible to show any less?). I was starting to get a little scared. Not because it bothered me that BSG took so long to move on her own, but because lately BSB has started to make a noise when he needs a toy he can't reach that would make me give him a set of steak knives if that's what he wanted as long as he would stop. I can't even describe what it sounds like, but he opens his mouth wide and gives it his all. He may be a basically content and mellow baby, but god forbid you sit him in his highchair with no cheerios on his tray RIGHT NOW, or the ball he was chewing on rolls away, or something with a tag is out of his reach, because it sounds like a pack of wild dogs is slowly pulling his arms off.
We're about to start a pretty busy two weeks around our house. We're leaving for vacation on Wednesday morning (if you're reading this and you're a burglar--we have a HUGE, MEAN dog), we're driving home from vacation on our anniversary, the following weekend we're having some family visit and hosting a birthday party for BSG, and after the party we're going to go out and celebrate my birthday. The whole while we are hoping (please, GOD) to have our house on the market. We spent all of this past weekend, with the help of Mam and Pap on Sunday, washing, fixing, painting, and yelling "Back Seat Girl, No--don't play with the paint. No, you can't help me, this is a big person job. I know you're a big girl, but...Hey--don't touch that. What did mommy say?". We have to be done with this now because Driver and I are exhausted.
We will be sure to post pictures of our trip as soon as possible. Also upcoming will be BSG's birthday post where I will try to capture the essence of BSG without going on and on forever and ever, amen, and a link where you can see some of the professional photographs we had taken last week in our front yard. I know you are all excited.
Updated: Our photos are up from the shoot last week! http://www.photographym.blogspot.com
Monday, July 09, 2007
The first and last post titled: The perks of working at the VA (besides the free parking for light rail)
Update: BSB has pooped the last couple of days in a row, and even managed to poop twice before noon today. He is very happy about it, but he did ask me to NEVER TALK ABOUT HIS POOPER ON THE INTERNET AGAIN.
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When Back Seat Boy turned 7 months old, we had almost completely depleted the large cache of frozen milk I had managed to build up in those early days of nursing when your body hasn't figured out that your baby can't drink eleventy million ounces of milk a day. We started having to send him to daycare with bottles that were half breast milk, half formula.
Around this time pooping became a production for BSB. At first Driver and I thought it was kinda' funny. About every other day I would find a red-faced BSB, sitting on the floor and leaning forward ever so slightly, pushing with all of his might.
Things started to get more serious, though. Suddenly those episodes of pushing were producing the smallest of turds that I needed to pluck from between his butt cheeks. I couldn't believe that all of that pushing could only produce one tiny turd. After a few days of this, the pushing stopped producing anything, and he started to squirm and cry everytime he tried to poop. Now, if you haven't ever lived with a baby you should know that if the baby isn't happy, ain't nobody happy.
Driver and I made the decision that every parent with a constipated baby has made before and buy some prune juice to unplug his little pooper. The problem is that we kept forgetting to buy the stuff every time we went to the grocery store.
Then one day at work I sat down to eat my yogurt, and realized it had gone bad. I can't go a day without yogurt, so I headed up to the cafeteria to buy a new carton. That is when the fact that the majority of our "clients" (you're supposed to refer to them as clients, not patients, you know, because 'patient' is very offensive) are older people. There, next to the yogurt, were cans of prune juice.
Yea, prune juice!!
About 5 minutes after his first encounter with prune juice he pooped as much as a grown man. I got to watch the whole thing first hand since I thought he was done moving his bowels and started changing his diaper when he decided to just go for the gold and empty it all out right there on the changing table.
He's still not as regular as we (or he) would like, but that's OK, because now we have a huge jug of prune juice in the fridge for our tiny little old man.
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When Back Seat Boy turned 7 months old, we had almost completely depleted the large cache of frozen milk I had managed to build up in those early days of nursing when your body hasn't figured out that your baby can't drink eleventy million ounces of milk a day. We started having to send him to daycare with bottles that were half breast milk, half formula.
Around this time pooping became a production for BSB. At first Driver and I thought it was kinda' funny. About every other day I would find a red-faced BSB, sitting on the floor and leaning forward ever so slightly, pushing with all of his might.
Things started to get more serious, though. Suddenly those episodes of pushing were producing the smallest of turds that I needed to pluck from between his butt cheeks. I couldn't believe that all of that pushing could only produce one tiny turd. After a few days of this, the pushing stopped producing anything, and he started to squirm and cry everytime he tried to poop. Now, if you haven't ever lived with a baby you should know that if the baby isn't happy, ain't nobody happy.
Driver and I made the decision that every parent with a constipated baby has made before and buy some prune juice to unplug his little pooper. The problem is that we kept forgetting to buy the stuff every time we went to the grocery store.
Then one day at work I sat down to eat my yogurt, and realized it had gone bad. I can't go a day without yogurt, so I headed up to the cafeteria to buy a new carton. That is when the fact that the majority of our "clients" (you're supposed to refer to them as clients, not patients, you know, because 'patient' is very offensive) are older people. There, next to the yogurt, were cans of prune juice.
Yea, prune juice!!
About 5 minutes after his first encounter with prune juice he pooped as much as a grown man. I got to watch the whole thing first hand since I thought he was done moving his bowels and started changing his diaper when he decided to just go for the gold and empty it all out right there on the changing table.
He's still not as regular as we (or he) would like, but that's OK, because now we have a huge jug of prune juice in the fridge for our tiny little old man.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Murphy's Law
I have needed to go to the bank for a couple of days now. This morning at around 10:20 I realized I had a window of opportunity to go. The window being it was early enough that we would be back in time to make lunch and not run the risk of Back Seat Girl falling asleep in the car and ruining her nap, and Back Seat Boy had just eaten and napped, so he was good to go, too.
By 10:30 we were in the car on our way. Mind you, I hadn't showered or done anything to myself other than wash my face and brush my teeth. Back Seat Girl had on some old hand me down clothes, and I wasn't wearing my finest attire, either. I didn't think too much of it because either we would just go through the drive thru or we would run in and out. This is the federal credit union across the street from the VA, so it's never busy in the middle of the day.
We got there and I made the executive decision to go in because I've had to wait in the drive thru for a while before and that really ticks me off. As predicted, we're in and out of there pretty fast, but not before Back Seat Girl has scored some crayons, a coloring book and a sucker. On our way out I notice a flyer that says today is "Member Appreciation Day", so there is free hotdogs, cookies, chips, and soda starting at 10:30. I think to myself "hey, I can kill two birds here with one stone", so we throw BSG's loot in the car and head over to the tent.
As we are sitting under a tree eating our lunch, I look up to see my boss and two of my coworkers heading across the parking lot towards the tent. I look at my ratty shorts and old flip flops. I look at BSG who has decided to forgo the hotdog in favor of the cookie and chips and now has chocolate on her nose. BSB is sitting in his carseat drooling on himself wondering why he isn't eating a hotdog. When I look back up, I realize they all see me, so after they get their food they come over and sit with us in our disgusting, 'didn't think we were leaving the house today' state.
So, now it looks like on my days off I don't shower, wear the rattiest old clothes that I can find, dress my children in old faded cast-offs, and let my daughter eat chips and cookies for lunch.
I'm surprised I didn't back into anything while they all watched me load the kids into the wagon and leave.
By 10:30 we were in the car on our way. Mind you, I hadn't showered or done anything to myself other than wash my face and brush my teeth. Back Seat Girl had on some old hand me down clothes, and I wasn't wearing my finest attire, either. I didn't think too much of it because either we would just go through the drive thru or we would run in and out. This is the federal credit union across the street from the VA, so it's never busy in the middle of the day.
We got there and I made the executive decision to go in because I've had to wait in the drive thru for a while before and that really ticks me off. As predicted, we're in and out of there pretty fast, but not before Back Seat Girl has scored some crayons, a coloring book and a sucker. On our way out I notice a flyer that says today is "Member Appreciation Day", so there is free hotdogs, cookies, chips, and soda starting at 10:30. I think to myself "hey, I can kill two birds here with one stone", so we throw BSG's loot in the car and head over to the tent.
As we are sitting under a tree eating our lunch, I look up to see my boss and two of my coworkers heading across the parking lot towards the tent. I look at my ratty shorts and old flip flops. I look at BSG who has decided to forgo the hotdog in favor of the cookie and chips and now has chocolate on her nose. BSB is sitting in his carseat drooling on himself wondering why he isn't eating a hotdog. When I look back up, I realize they all see me, so after they get their food they come over and sit with us in our disgusting, 'didn't think we were leaving the house today' state.
So, now it looks like on my days off I don't shower, wear the rattiest old clothes that I can find, dress my children in old faded cast-offs, and let my daughter eat chips and cookies for lunch.
I'm surprised I didn't back into anything while they all watched me load the kids into the wagon and leave.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Wednesday, May 30th, 2007
This morning we had our inspection. It went very, very well. The inspector only found a few things, and they are all pretty easy to fix. She also really loved Back Seat Girl's room. What girl wouldn't? I think her room is my favorite in this house. I spent a lot of time in it wondering what it would be like to have a baby, and after she arrived I spent a lot of time in it nursing and rocking and crying while I packed away tiny baby girl clothes and realizing I can't make time stand still.
BSG and I spent a lot of time outside this morning,and when Back Seat Boy woke up from his nap he joined us. It was the first time he spent a significant amount of time hanging out in the yard and not in the stroller or Bjorn at a park. He did a lot of leaning forward trying very, very hard to touch the grass that seemed to be just out of his reach. Once he got a piece he very predictably put it in his mouth. Here he is, enjoying the breeze through his comb-over.
Here is BSG "smiling" for the camera, and BSB wondering what the heck she is doing. He spends a lot of time wondering what the heck she is doing. We all do.BSG and I spent a lot of time outside this morning,and when Back Seat Boy woke up from his nap he joined us. It was the first time he spent a significant amount of time hanging out in the yard and not in the stroller or Bjorn at a park. He did a lot of leaning forward trying very, very hard to touch the grass that seemed to be just out of his reach. Once he got a piece he very predictably put it in his mouth. Here he is, enjoying the breeze through his comb-over.
Did you every wonder-- 'what is the last thing you see before you get your nose eaten off by a baby?' It's this:
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
The TiVo Generation
The setting: I am in the kitchen, Back Seat Boy is napping in his room, Back Seat Girl is in the living room watching an hour long Dora special (God bless Nickelodeon for throwing an hour long one in there on a work day).
Back Seat Girl: Mommy! What happened? Come in here! Mommy!!
Me (running into the living room): What? What's wrong?
BSG: Where's Dora? Turn Dora back on!
Me: Honey, it's just a commercial. Dora will be back on in a few minutes.
I return to the kitchen and a few seconds later hear BSG reassure Pork Roll "Don't worry, Dora will come back on in a few minutes".
Back Seat Girl: Mommy! What happened? Come in here! Mommy!!
Me (running into the living room): What? What's wrong?
BSG: Where's Dora? Turn Dora back on!
Me: Honey, it's just a commercial. Dora will be back on in a few minutes.
I return to the kitchen and a few seconds later hear BSG reassure Pork Roll "Don't worry, Dora will come back on in a few minutes".
Sunday, May 20, 2007
Alison Ran?
Welcome to Richfield. It was a beautiful weekend and Shotgun and I did some work on the house we are intending to sell. One of my tasks for the weekend was to clean the massive amount of Maple tree pollen out of the gutters. So I broke out the hose and went to work. Ever wonder what happen when a couple hundred ants build a nest in a hose and then you turn it on when a nozzle is attached? Well I found out and let me tell you, no water comes out. It seems that the path of least resistance is blocked by ant carcasses.
After doing the real work, back seat girl came out to “help”. There is a small hole in one of out hoses and in true Richfield fashion; this little lemon was made into lemonade by back seat girl and out neighbor. Here is some of the video from the afternoon. In one you can see me ask the neighbor girl if her parents are ok with her running threw the hose. Well, I pretty much assumed that they must be ok because surly someone saw their daughter/cousin/niece/sister/ come over to play. Back seat boy makes a few cameos as well.
A couple of side notes:
The entire time I was cleaning out the gutters one of out neighbors in the apartments behind us was cleaning out his car blasting light rick favorites from yesterday and today. I was serenaded with such classic as-
Put your head on my shoulder
Pretty woman
Sounds of silence (how ironic)
Some Billy Joel Song
And numerous other hits at a volume able to be clearly heard from half a block away.
Also, Shotgun just watched West Side Story for the first time tonight. She was shocked when I knew most of the songs by heart. Thanks, Kate.
After doing the real work, back seat girl came out to “help”. There is a small hole in one of out hoses and in true Richfield fashion; this little lemon was made into lemonade by back seat girl and out neighbor. Here is some of the video from the afternoon. In one you can see me ask the neighbor girl if her parents are ok with her running threw the hose. Well, I pretty much assumed that they must be ok because surly someone saw their daughter/cousin/niece/sister/ come over to play. Back seat boy makes a few cameos as well.
A couple of side notes:
The entire time I was cleaning out the gutters one of out neighbors in the apartments behind us was cleaning out his car blasting light rick favorites from yesterday and today. I was serenaded with such classic as-
Put your head on my shoulder
Pretty woman
Sounds of silence (how ironic)
Some Billy Joel Song
And numerous other hits at a volume able to be clearly heard from half a block away.
Also, Shotgun just watched West Side Story for the first time tonight. She was shocked when I knew most of the songs by heart. Thanks, Kate.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Announcement
I am pleased to announce that Stefan and Jenny Debbert have a new baby boy!! Owen was born this morning at 6:30. Three weeks early, but who's counting? He weighed 6 lbs, 2 oz, and apparently has blonde hair. Don't know the length, but I may go and see them this afternoon so maybe I'll have a picture to post later.
Congratulations!!
Congratulations!!
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
A Warning
I feel it is my duty to deliver this public service to all of you. I was just looking myself up on Switchboard.com (it's better not to ask why), and it has my age as 31. 31!! Now, listen, I don't think 31 is old, it's just that I am not 31. I'm not even 30. Apparently, the internet is full of WILDLY inaccurate information. That's right--bold, italicized, all caps wildly. What's next? Everything on Wikepedia is made up?
I just thought you should all know that the internet is full of lies and you shouldn't believe ANYTHING you read. Unless, of course, it's on this website. Everything here is completely true.
I just thought you should all know that the internet is full of lies and you shouldn't believe ANYTHING you read. Unless, of course, it's on this website. Everything here is completely true.
Monday, May 07, 2007
Six months of Back Seat Boy
This weekend you turned six months old. I can hardly believe where the time has gone. How did you get to be so big? I think you were a tiny baby for about .5 seconds.
Now you are this moon-faced adorable morsel I could just squeeze until you pop. I won’t though. You are always ready to smile. You will smile at anything. If I just glance in your direction I get the big, wide-eyed, toothless grin. Your Grandma calls you a “ray of sunshine”, and I would have to agree with her.
You have a great giggle. It’s impossible not to smile when I hear you start to laugh. The person who can get you to laugh the easiest is your big sister. You watch her intently, and if she decides to grace you with some eye contact, you smile gleefully. If she goes so far as to actually talk to you or do something silly, you can’t help but laugh with delight.
You’re starting to develop a bit of a schedule, much to my delight. I’ve decided to take your lead on this since that’s what I let your sister do and she figured out a pretty nice daily schedule for herself. I usually end up laying you down by 8. You’ve gotten into the bad habit of waking up between 5:45 and 6, but usually I can get you to go back to sleep for a little while. The problem is that I can’t get back to sleep.
When you do wake up for the morning you couldn’t be happier. You are usually content to lie in your crib for a while and wrestle and talk with your blanket bear. When I go in to greet you, you act like you are surprised that yes, we are still here and did not move out in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. You kick and grunt and smile, and just when you think it couldn’t get any better, I change your diaper. You LOVE getting your diaper changed. The only thing that is better than getting your diaper changed is eating, especially that cereal stuff we’ve started giving you. You open your little mouth like a bird when you see the spoon, and have since the second time you’ve ever tried it. It is pretty funny. You even get excited when you see me get out the milk and the bowl.
You’re to the age where you will try to grab anything, ANYTHING within your reach, or at least what you perceive to be within your reach. It’s hard to eat now with you on my lap, because you are constantly grabbing at my plate, at the fork going into my mouth, at my face, at my drink, etc. Everything that ends up in your hand goes into your mouth, of course. I have forgotten how much babies love to put everything into their mouths.
Watching you has made me remember things about your sister being a baby that I had forgotten. For instance, you have developed a fascination with the tags on your toys. Your favorite part of any toy is the tag. I remember now that your sister was the same way. You finger the tag, or stick it in your mouth, or hold it up really close to your face and look at it with awe and wonder. “Behold, it is the almighty tag. There is a wealth of information on this thing. It has washing instructions on it. It tells you where it is made. It tells you what company made it. Plus, it’s kind of shiny and slippery and fits perfectly into my mouth.” At least that is what I imagine is going through that little brain of yours.
The last six months have flown by, and I know the next six months will, as well. Before I know it you will be trying to walk and talk and the precious little baby you are now will only be a memory. I am tenaciously holding on to these innocent moments before you are treating me like an indentured servant as other people in this house are known to do. You look at me now after I feed you or change your diaper or get you after you’ve woken up from a nap with such gratitude, like these things aren’t expected of me--like I’m the greatest person in the world for keeping you alive for this long. I think you’re saying “Wow. Thanks Mom. I really was hungry/tired/messy, and you took care of it. I love you”.
Happy Birthday, Little Man. I love you, too.
P.S. You scream like a girl when you're excited, but I think it makes me love you a little more. You even make screaming like a girl cute.
Now you are this moon-faced adorable morsel I could just squeeze until you pop. I won’t though. You are always ready to smile. You will smile at anything. If I just glance in your direction I get the big, wide-eyed, toothless grin. Your Grandma calls you a “ray of sunshine”, and I would have to agree with her.
You have a great giggle. It’s impossible not to smile when I hear you start to laugh. The person who can get you to laugh the easiest is your big sister. You watch her intently, and if she decides to grace you with some eye contact, you smile gleefully. If she goes so far as to actually talk to you or do something silly, you can’t help but laugh with delight.
You’re starting to develop a bit of a schedule, much to my delight. I’ve decided to take your lead on this since that’s what I let your sister do and she figured out a pretty nice daily schedule for herself. I usually end up laying you down by 8. You’ve gotten into the bad habit of waking up between 5:45 and 6, but usually I can get you to go back to sleep for a little while. The problem is that I can’t get back to sleep.
When you do wake up for the morning you couldn’t be happier. You are usually content to lie in your crib for a while and wrestle and talk with your blanket bear. When I go in to greet you, you act like you are surprised that yes, we are still here and did not move out in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. You kick and grunt and smile, and just when you think it couldn’t get any better, I change your diaper. You LOVE getting your diaper changed. The only thing that is better than getting your diaper changed is eating, especially that cereal stuff we’ve started giving you. You open your little mouth like a bird when you see the spoon, and have since the second time you’ve ever tried it. It is pretty funny. You even get excited when you see me get out the milk and the bowl.
You’re to the age where you will try to grab anything, ANYTHING within your reach, or at least what you perceive to be within your reach. It’s hard to eat now with you on my lap, because you are constantly grabbing at my plate, at the fork going into my mouth, at my face, at my drink, etc. Everything that ends up in your hand goes into your mouth, of course. I have forgotten how much babies love to put everything into their mouths.
Watching you has made me remember things about your sister being a baby that I had forgotten. For instance, you have developed a fascination with the tags on your toys. Your favorite part of any toy is the tag. I remember now that your sister was the same way. You finger the tag, or stick it in your mouth, or hold it up really close to your face and look at it with awe and wonder. “Behold, it is the almighty tag. There is a wealth of information on this thing. It has washing instructions on it. It tells you where it is made. It tells you what company made it. Plus, it’s kind of shiny and slippery and fits perfectly into my mouth.” At least that is what I imagine is going through that little brain of yours.
The last six months have flown by, and I know the next six months will, as well. Before I know it you will be trying to walk and talk and the precious little baby you are now will only be a memory. I am tenaciously holding on to these innocent moments before you are treating me like an indentured servant as other people in this house are known to do. You look at me now after I feed you or change your diaper or get you after you’ve woken up from a nap with such gratitude, like these things aren’t expected of me--like I’m the greatest person in the world for keeping you alive for this long. I think you’re saying “Wow. Thanks Mom. I really was hungry/tired/messy, and you took care of it. I love you”.
Happy Birthday, Little Man. I love you, too.
P.S. You scream like a girl when you're excited, but I think it makes me love you a little more. You even make screaming like a girl cute.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Why?
I heard well before I ever thought about having my own children the stories of toddlers who constantly ask 'why?'. You answer one 'why', and it's met with another 'why', and another, and so on. I thought to myself "Self, surely this is an exaggeration". I had never witnessed first-hand any small child do this. I thought it was one of those old stories that got exaggerated over time. Yea, maybe a few kids do this, but not to the point where there can't possibly be anymore answers to the "whys?".
Enter Back Seat Girl. She loves to prove her mother wrong, and she has done it once again. In the last two weeks she started asking 'why?' to everything, everything she possibly can. Even when it doesn't make sense to ask 'why?', even when she's asking about how she feels or why she is doing something, she asks us "why?".
Last weekend I had to work so Driver, being the good dad he is, loaded the kids into the stroller and took them to the park. They came to a 4-way stop at the same time as another car. Driver waved his hand and told the driver of the car to go ahead. Back Seat Girl saw this as an opportunity to stump her stupid parents yet again. This time, however, Driver had an answer.
BSG: What did you say to that lady?
Driver: I told her she can go.
BSG: Why?
Driver: So we wouldn't go at the same time.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because then we would hit eachother.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because then we would get hurt.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because according to the laws of physics two objects can't occupy the same space at the same time.
That was one of the shorter exchanges. They can go on forever, to the point where you really can't think of any more answers. The other night she asked me why she couldn't go to heaven right now. (The original question was "Who is Jesus?") We always try to distill them down to phsyics. I've found myself saying on more than one occasion to my two and a half year old "physics, Back Seat Girl, it's all around us".
I feel myself getting less intelligent by the day.
Enter Back Seat Girl. She loves to prove her mother wrong, and she has done it once again. In the last two weeks she started asking 'why?' to everything, everything she possibly can. Even when it doesn't make sense to ask 'why?', even when she's asking about how she feels or why she is doing something, she asks us "why?".
Last weekend I had to work so Driver, being the good dad he is, loaded the kids into the stroller and took them to the park. They came to a 4-way stop at the same time as another car. Driver waved his hand and told the driver of the car to go ahead. Back Seat Girl saw this as an opportunity to stump her stupid parents yet again. This time, however, Driver had an answer.
BSG: What did you say to that lady?
Driver: I told her she can go.
BSG: Why?
Driver: So we wouldn't go at the same time.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because then we would hit eachother.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because then we would get hurt.
BSG: Why?
Driver: Because according to the laws of physics two objects can't occupy the same space at the same time.
That was one of the shorter exchanges. They can go on forever, to the point where you really can't think of any more answers. The other night she asked me why she couldn't go to heaven right now. (The original question was "Who is Jesus?") We always try to distill them down to phsyics. I've found myself saying on more than one occasion to my two and a half year old "physics, Back Seat Girl, it's all around us".
I feel myself getting less intelligent by the day.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
NWA Tour
This last Thursday for class we got to tour Northwest Airlines maintenance facility at the Minneapolis Airport. The tour was fascinating. We were able to tour the hangars and see the planes that are in there for maintenance. We went into the cockpits, cargo bays and everything. There was one plane that had an interesting story. It was in an accident on the tarmac and is now being used for training. I saw this picture on the internet the afternoon before the tour. Imagine my surprise when I saw it all busted up.
Monday, April 23, 2007
An Apology
Dear Mommy and Daddy's friends who were here Saturday night--
I am sorry I screamed my head off for what seemed like a very long time according to mom (I didn't think it was that bad, but whatever). I guess I was getting used to being an only child there for a while with my sister gone. Every time I made a noise or seemed the least bit unhappy all day I got picked up, or a big head would appear in my vision to smile and talk to me.
Then, suddenly, I woke up at this place where there were other big people that looked like Mommy and Daddy and they were all talking and NO ONE was looking at me. I had to sit in my carseat and amuse myself with these plastic chains which usually do the job, but I was kinda' mad. I mean, I had Mommy and Daddy to myself ALL DAY. Now suddenly I was stuck in a corner and all I could see was Mommy and Daddy's backs.
So, I did what I needed to do. I made some noise, and I had Mommy and Daddy to myself all over again. For a little while, at least. Then all the big people showed up again, and then I was outside, and it was getting late, and there was a little person that looked kind of like my sister but not really running around, and I got a little overwhelmed. Suddenly Mommy was trying to put me to bed, but I just couldn't calm down. Once again, I had to resort to the one thing I know that gets me attention EVERY time.
I don't know what happened next, but I must have accidentally fallen asleep, because a few hours later I woke up in my crib with my animals. A few hours after that my sister was back, and then I remembered that it's not ALWAYS about me, so I decided to not scream before bed that night, because it seems to me that Mommy and Daddy are always there when I really need them.
Yours Truly,
Back Seat Boy
I am sorry I screamed my head off for what seemed like a very long time according to mom (I didn't think it was that bad, but whatever). I guess I was getting used to being an only child there for a while with my sister gone. Every time I made a noise or seemed the least bit unhappy all day I got picked up, or a big head would appear in my vision to smile and talk to me.
Then, suddenly, I woke up at this place where there were other big people that looked like Mommy and Daddy and they were all talking and NO ONE was looking at me. I had to sit in my carseat and amuse myself with these plastic chains which usually do the job, but I was kinda' mad. I mean, I had Mommy and Daddy to myself ALL DAY. Now suddenly I was stuck in a corner and all I could see was Mommy and Daddy's backs.
So, I did what I needed to do. I made some noise, and I had Mommy and Daddy to myself all over again. For a little while, at least. Then all the big people showed up again, and then I was outside, and it was getting late, and there was a little person that looked kind of like my sister but not really running around, and I got a little overwhelmed. Suddenly Mommy was trying to put me to bed, but I just couldn't calm down. Once again, I had to resort to the one thing I know that gets me attention EVERY time.
I don't know what happened next, but I must have accidentally fallen asleep, because a few hours later I woke up in my crib with my animals. A few hours after that my sister was back, and then I remembered that it's not ALWAYS about me, so I decided to not scream before bed that night, because it seems to me that Mommy and Daddy are always there when I really need them.
Yours Truly,
Back Seat Boy
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