Quite a Workout

Monday night, Sam had his preschool screening.  I had no idea they do it so early now, but it makes sense, I guess - better to catch any potential problems as early as you can.  He passed, so he's ready to start kindergarten in the fall of 2011.  Me?  I'm not so ready.  But since it's still two years away, I can live in denial for a bit longer.

 

The first screener asked him about 50 questions, ranging from "what color is this block?" to "complete this pattern".  At his age, he only had to answer 11 questions correctly.  I didn't find that out until the screening was over, so when questions came up that I hadn't even thought of teaching him, I knew he was going to fail the test and not be able to start kindergarten until he was 10 years old, and it was ALL MY FAULT.  Patterns?  It's never even crossed my mind to teach him that concept.  But he got 29 questions right, so he passed without a problem.  Thank goodness.  I'm counting on him to support me in my old age.

 

Then they did hearing and vision screening, which he also passed.  When we were done, and waiting to speak to the nurse to review all the results, Sam plopped down into his chair and said, "Whew!  That was a lot of hard work.  I'm very sweaty from all that hard work!"

 

No one said building mental muscles was easy!

*Heavy sigh*

Awhile back, I talked about how some research has shown that kids tend to go through disequilibrium around the half-year mark. Sam will be 3 1/2 next month, and the terrible 3's have officially hit our house.

 

On Thursday of last week, I got the first glimpse of what was about to come.  It was just general naughtiness, nothing I could really put my finger on, but in a general way the behavior was very out of character for Sam.  I have been wanting to paint the bathroom for awhile, and I did have this feeling like - "Hmm, maybe I shouldn't try to do this now, because it probably won't turn out well".  You know how you've heard you should always trust your instincts?  You really should.

 

After I'd cleaned off the yellow Sam-sized handprints from the front of my (Not Normally Yellow) bathroom cabinets, I banished Sam to his room and kept him on A Very Short Leash for the rest of the night.  Figuratively, not literally - though I have to admit, I just may have been tempted for a brief moment.

 

The weekend was like a marathon of episodes of a really bad sitcom.  Things that might be funny if you see them on the TV screen, but not so funny when you have to clean up the aftermath.  Like when I was carrying a bucket of sudsy water outside to wash my car, and Sam ran up to me and, as quick as lightning, yanked on one side of the bucket so the water spilled all over the kitchen floor, landing, and stairs.  Trust me, there was no laugh track playing at our house - although there was a deep, reverberating voice narrating the words "GET INTO YOUR ROOM RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME..."

 

And this morning, I received a phone call from my husband that Sam had detached a clump of hair from Natalie's skull using brute force.  A clump.  When you hear the words "a clump" and "hair" in the same sentence, it sends a shiver down your spine.  I have not yet surveyed the damage first-hand, but it can't be pretty.  I've been informed that Sam has lost custody of one of his favorite toys for the remainder of the week (and with just cause).

 

Anyway!  Let's talk about something else more fun, because frankly, I'm getting more annoyed every minute just from typing this.

 

Like my garden!  I am doing some experimenting this year with fun, new things which I've never grown.  Red sweet corn - did you know there was such a thing?  I've only seen the small, decorative kind of red corn.  But as we speak, I have red sweet corn sprouting in my garden.  And artichokes!  I didn't even know they could grow in Minnesota, with our approximately 2-day growing season.  But the seed packet informs me that they do, by showing our grand state on the "when to plant" map.  We even have an actual color that corresponds to an actual month range on the map key!  So it must be so!  And I found some fun varieties of heirloom tomato plants at the Farmer's Market.  One that produces striped tomatoes, another called a "Black Plum" tomato, and a "Russian Persimmon".

 

Also, trees!  Now, those of you who know me well will laugh at this.  For, oh, the last 5 years or so, we've been talking about moving to a single-family house with more property.  (We live in an upper-lower duplex, and although we don't rent out the bottom half anymore, we mainly use it for storage so it's largely wasted space.  And who really needs two kitchens and two laundry rooms.)  I think, after 5 years, we're finally ready to give up the dream.  After all, moving is A LOT OF WORK.  Inertia is just easier.  So I'm planting trees.  Trees which won't fruit for 3 or more years, which basically ties me to this land.  Because after paying so much money for these trees, and all the time put into their care, I want to be around to see them pay off!

 

First, I purchased 2 apple trees from Linder's (a local chain).  I bought a Honeycrisp and a Sweet Sixten...yum.  I paid $50 each, which seemed like a steal since the independent greenhouses I'd perused charged $75 to $100 for the same trees.

 

Then, I was at Fleet Farm last week (another local chain) and found my holy grail...a Mesabi cherry tree.  I have been looking, and looking for one of these for a couple of months now.  It was marked $44.99.  Awesome!  But even more awesome, it rang up at 25% off - $33.74!!!  If I had room in my yard, I was sorely tempted to buy a pear tree and a plum tree, also.  Maybe next year, I'll find a place to squeeze them in.

 

Ah...now I'm feeling much better.  I'd so much rather think and talk about my garden than my behaviorally-challenged 3 1/2-year-old at the moment.

The Attack

The mighty hunter carefully chose his weapon.  "Baby Betsy Wetsy will do just fine," he decides with satisfaction.  He goes to the kitchen sink and loads his weapon, a pink plastic bottle.  Then he sneaks out to the living room where his unsuspecting victim is quietly reading books.  

The hunter carefully aims Betsy Wetsy's nether regions at his victim and squeezes the trigger of the bottle with all his might, aiming a mighty stream of water down Betsy-Wetsy's throat and out her bottom.

The victim doesn't even notice until a few minutes later when her back starts to feel damp and cold.  "Wet," she mutters with dissatisfaction.  "Wet," she repeats as she strips off her clothes.  The mighty hunter, while disappointed that his efforts went largely unnoticed, doesn't let it bother him for long and he goes off in pursuit of bigger game(s).

Bunny Tales

You know how there are lots and lots of stories about Santa, and the North Pole, and his reindeer?  Not so much with the Easter Bunny, which I never realized until recently when Sammy started pelting me with questions.  "How does the Easter Bunny get in our house?" he wanted to know.  "Where does the Easter Bunny live?" 

 

I really didn't know what to say, because there isn't a lot of lore associated with the Easter Bunny.  I've found a good way to deal with these questions is to throw them back at Sammy.  "Well, I don't know," I might say.  "I wonder if he comes in the window?"  Then Sammy will usually say something like, "No, I don't think he comes in the window.  I think he comes in the door."  "But our doors are locked; I wonder how he gets in?" I'll say.  "I think he has a key," Sammy says.  I love these little conversations because it gives me a glimpse into the mind of a 3-year-old.  He's at a really imaginative stage right now and he'll tell elaborate stories - with no point whatsoever, but I can't fault him that because he probably learned it from me.

 

During one of our Easter Bunny discussions, I told him a story about a few springs ago when I was cleaning out one of my flowerbeds and uncovered a whole nest of tiny, blind, sleeping baby bunnies.  I carefully covered them back up and left them undisturbed, in spite of knowing that in a few months I'd be battling with them over my newly sprouted peas and beans.  Sammy found the story fascinating and asked me to repeat it no less than 7 times.  Later, I heard him earnestly telling the story to Natalie. 

 

The part that I left out was that the mother abandoned her babies shortly after that.  I found them dead and smelly a few weeks later, and had to bury them in a corner of the yard.  I didn't want to scar Sammy for life by telling him the unhappy ending to the sweet baby bunny story.

Changing His Mind

We recently went to Target, otherwise known as That Store That I Can Never Leave Without Spending At Least $100.  They have an enormous spring display right now - outdoor furniture, grills, and gardening equipment.  It's almost enough to make me believe that it's actually going to be warm out soon.  Until I wake up in the morning and it's 60 degrees in the house because the furnace stopped working overnight and it's 25 degrees outside.  But I digress.
 
Sammy ran over and climbed on the furniture.  I told him to get down.  He didn't listen.  I started counting, "One....two...." and Sammy jumped down, shouting, "I'm coming!  I'm coming!  I changed my mind!"
 
I don't think I've ever made it to the count of 3.  For some reason, he is sore afraid of the countdown and I have no regrets about exploiting that fear for the time being.

This Is Why I Don't Get Enough Exercise Anymore

I recently was inspired to begin a Couch to 5K program.  Awhile back I did this and it was amazing, but then life interfered and I ended up back on the couch.  The past few months, I've been determined to get in better shape and have been doing my best to work out every day that I can.  Sometimes I do workout DVDs (30-Day Shred is my current favorite) but three nights a week, I run on my treadmill.

 

Ron had to work yesterday but I really, really wanted to do a 20-minute run.  The kids and I headed downstairs, where I set up lots and lots of toys and turned on a movie for them while I hopped on the treadmill.

 

Minute 1...so far, so good. 

Minute 2...this is almost too good to be true, still no interruptions.

Minute 3....Sam: "I have to go poop!  I have to go poop!"  He went upstairs and I followed a minute later to render butt-wiping services.

 

Back downstairs.  My heartrate is back to normal, so I figure I should start over at the beginning again (keep in mind, the first 5 minutes is a warm-up of quick walking - I hadn't even started running yet before this first interruption).

 

Minute 1 through 5...all is well

Minute 6...FINALLY, I'm actually running. 

Minute 6 1/2: Evidently someone forgot to close the door, because I hear Natalie heading up the stairs.  I'm determined to run at least one minute uninterrupted and figure I have 30 seconds before I need to go get her.  After all, she goes up and down the stairs all the time and has never fallen before.

Minute 6 3/4:  thunk thunk thunkthunkthunkTHUNK

 

I had the presence of mind to hit the "stop" button on the treadmill before charging up the stairs, since I know Sammy was likely to try to get on the treadmill the minute I step off.  After all, it would be a bit embarrassing to bring BOTH kids to the emergency room for treatment in the same night.  I charged up the stairs at full speed and found Natalie on the landing, still lying just as she had landed.  From the sound of it, she had fallen down the entire first flight of stairs, about 8 of them.  She was shirtless - pretty typical, since both my kids seem to be budding exhibitionists - and when she sat up, I could see a red spot on her shoulder where she had evidently taken the biggest hit from the fall but quick once-over revealed no broken bones.  For once it was only 4:00 in the afternoon when a potential head injury occurred.  Usually, all major falls at our house happen right at bedtime and I am then compelled to wake up the fall-ee hour upon hour for the first part of the night.  Luckily, all was well and nothing seemed to be injured but her ego.  And my will to exercise.

Potty and Potty Talk

Having the kids back in daycare is both good and bad. 

    Good: Sammy has become remotivated by peer pressure to start using the potty again.  He'd been relapsing the past few weeks but is back in underwear full-time, after only 3 days back in daycare. 

    Bad: He's now napping again (how they get him to nap, I have no clue but they should really sell their method) which means he's up until 9 or 10 at night. 

    Good: Sammy's excited to see his friends again, and it's fun hearing his tales about daycare and his friends.

    Bad:  Said friends seem to be teaching him some naughty things.  Case in point:  Last night, he pointed to his rear and said, "This is my frickin' butt".  Okay, here I have to admit my bad mom moment: I burst out laughing before I caught myself.  Then I found my composure and told him that wasn't a very nice thing to say.  That apparently didn't make much of an impression (or was cancelled out by my earlier laughter), because a few hours later the kids were playing in their room and Natalie came out crying.  Sammy was following behind her and I demanded to know what had happened.  "She pushed me," Sammy tattled.  "Why is she crying?" I insisted, expecting to hear that he'd pushed her in retaliation.  But, no.  "Because I called her a frickin' butt," he said with a grin on his face.  

Sigh.

Dinner Conversations

Yesterday at the supper table, I had my first s-e-x talk with Sammy.  After a discussion about belly buttons and umbilical cords, he brought up one of Grandma's ponies, the one who's expecting a baby this spring.  "How will that baby come out?" he wondered aloud.  I explained in rudimentary terms, but I could see the gears turning in his head so I knew that wasn't the end of it.  I was expecting the "How did that baby get in there?" question, but he threw me a softball question: "Do I have a baby in my tummy?"  And then a few minutes later, "What are nipples for?"

This seems to be the topic of the week, because we went to the zoo on Saturday and were treated to an X-rated show by the lions.   Surprisingly, even though Sammy watched intently, there were no questions asked.  This time, anyway.

Tales From the Hamster Cage

Ah, March in Minnesota.  The time of year when you realize that God has a sense of humor.  The snow melts - only to be replaced by a fresh two feet of snow hours later.  The beginning of Daylight Savings Time means more daylight at the end of the day - but also totally messes up the kids' sleep schedules.

 

Last week, I had spring fever and tried to assuage it by heading off to the local Home Depot to buy seeds.  I'm bound and determined that this year I'm going to have a proper garden again, something I haven't been able to do since 1) the children sucked up all of my free time, and 2) the perfectly-sized, perfectly-soiled garden plot was turned into a humongous septic mound and I had to start over with a new patch of soil, which is still much too heavy to properly grow root vegetables.

 

I potted the seeds while the kids helped dug their fingers into the dirt and sprinkled seeds all over the kitchen table.  Now we're anxiously waiting for the first sprout to appear.  Seed Sprout Watch 2009 is the biggest thing to happen in our house since we got a hamster.

 

Speaking of that.  I'm starting to wonder if getting a hamster was such a good idea, after all.  A few days ago, we let the hamster out to play and decided to forego the exercise ball.  You know that little grate thing that's on the front bottom part of refrigerators?  I kind of forgot that when we bought this new fridge, that grate never fit right and would pop off every time we opened the door, so we ended up throwing it out, thinking it wasn't totally necessary anyway.  Turns out it's very useful in keeping small rodents from going underneath the fridge.  So under the fridge Johnny went.  I got the flashlight out and shone it underneath, and could see a couple of black beady eyes shining at me from amidst of the piles of dust.  Hoping that it was Johnny and not some creature from the bowels of hell, I tried to lure it out with tidbits of lettuce and yogurt snacks.  No dice.

 

I ended up taking the back panel off the refrigerator and extracting him that way.  The upside is, it was a good opportunity to vacuum up the dust colonies, and the fridge runs much quieter now.  Who knew?  I thought that recommendation to vacuum the coils once a year was just a scam run by the vacuum cleaner bag companies.

 

A couple of days ago, we again took Johnny out to play.  This time I'd learned my lesson and put him in his exercise ball and warned the kids that there was to be no kicking, throwing, or rolling the ball under any circumstances.  I guess I forgot to mention that the ball was not to be opened without my supervision.  I had my back turned to the kids while I folded laundry, keeping tabs on the situation by hearing alone.  I misidentified the "click" that turned out to be the sound of Sam opening the ball, and only realized what happened when he proudly said, "I let Johnny out!" 

 

I turned just in time to see the hamster high-tailing it for the baseboard heater.  By the time I pried the front off of the heater, he was nowhere to be seen, and the most likely assumption was that he'd disappeared down the hamster-sized hole which contained the water pipe leading to the furnace.  With a sick feeling in my stomach, I started picturing my future - which included a telltale stink each time the furnace would run.  I turned and explained to Sam that Johnny was gone.  Understandably, he got very upset and started to cry.  I felt terrible, but there was nothing I could do short of knocking out the floor and a good part of the wall, and demolition was not on my to-do list that day.

 

Maybe fifteen minutes later, we found Johnny cowering behind a box on the other side of the laundry room.  We all heaved a sigh of relief, and I think it's safe to say Sam won't be letting Johnny out to play anymore.

Heeeere's Johnny!

Introducing Johnny the hamster.

When I asked Sammy what he wanted to name his new hamster, he didn't hesitate a second before replying "Johnny".  Why, I have no idea.  As far as I know, he doesn't know anyone named Johnny, and I can't think of a single cartoon that has a character named Johnny.  A few hours later, Sammy asked me if he could really name the hamster anything he wanted.  When I said yes and asked if he wanted to change the name, he said, "Yes.  His name is Johnny the cow."  Indeed.  But we're still calling him Johnny for short.

Today, it started snowing at about noon.  I'd heard we were going to receive 7 or more inches of snow, so it was no surprise and I was happy that I'd get home before the worst of it hit (as most of you probably already know, I leave work at 1:00 every day).  My bus was about 10 minutes late, and when it finally arrived - it was packed to the gills.  No room for any more people.  That really stunk because the next bus wasn't for an hour.  Thankfully, Ron is home with the kids for now so I didn't have to worry about having to get the kids from daycare on time.  So I took advantage of the unexpected free time and walked over to the IDS center, bought myself a cup of coffee and sat down to relax with my book.

2:30 came - time for the next bus.  I walked to the bus stop, but walked all the way to the second stop on the line this time, figuring that way I'd for sure get on the next bus.  At 3:05, over half an hour late, the bus finally came.  Again, it was jam-packed full of people, every spare inch of space filled with a commuter eager to get home before the storm got any worse.

By this time, I was getting disgusted.  Fifteen minutes later, another bus came and I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was finally a double bus.  Finally, there'd be room for me.  Nope.  Not a chance.

I walked to the first stop on the route - an indoor, underground ramp - and could hardly step off the bottom of the escalator for all the other people who had the same idea.  I'm happy to say that I finally managed to get on the next bus, at 3:30.  Then it took another 45 minutes for the bus to travel the 12 blocks to get out of downtown.  And another 45 minutes on the freeway.  And then another half an hour for me to drive home from the park & ride.  All in all, it took me four and a half hours to get home tonight.  Spring can't come soon enough this year.

One funny story to end this post.  It was beautiful outside...was it just yesterday?  Maybe the day before?  Right now, it seems like it's been snowing forever and it's hard to remember.  Anyway - whichever day it was, it was about 40 degrees outside and the snow was nice and sticky, just right for making snowmen.  Sammy wanted to go outside and make Frosty, so we did.  When we finished our snowman, Sammy watched for a few minutes, then asked why he wasn't moving.  He couldn't figure out why Frosty wasn't coming to life like he does in the song.

  

My Excuse..And Exciting News

I haven't posted in almost two weeks - and I have a good reason for it, really, I do!  I've made a commitment to myself to start working out, EVERY night, after the kids go to bed.  It's been tough because sometimes it's 9:00 by the time both kids are down for the count.  But I've been sticking with it for a week and a half now.

I've heard so much about The 30 Day Shred and decided to give it a whirl.  Each of the workouts is 20 minutes long, and even I can find the time and motivation to work out for a mere 20 minutes a day.  I've been seeing results already, so that gives me even more motivation to stick with it.  So I've decided to revise my goal of posting five times a week to my blog, down to once a week.  I guess now I'm going to have to make it count.  :-)

Now for the exciting news!  About a week ago, did you hear it when the heavens opened up and a chorus of angels sang "Hallelujah!"  No?  Maybe it was just in my head, then.  The reason - Sammy is potty-trained!!!!  He's been in his big boy underwear since last Thursday, and we've only had a couple of accidents (and only of the wet variety!) so it's official.  And on top of it all, he's woken up dry four out of the past five mornings.  I guess when he was ready, he was really ready.

We did have one small hiccup.  About three days into the training, it seems that he got afraid of doing #2 in the potty and held it in for a day and a half.  Finally, I gave him a glass of undiluted juice, which produced the desired effect in about half an hour.  He said he needed to go, and I brought him into the bathroom.  No sooner had he pulled down his pants than he changed his mind and very firmly said he didn't have to go.  Ten minutes later, he got a panic-stricken look on his face and again said he needed to go.  Once again, he changed his mind as soon as we got into the bathroom but I matter-of-factly said it looked like he needed to go.  To distract him, I started telling him one of his favorite stories - Little Red Riding Hood - while I helped him onto the potty.  The wolf hadn't even made it to grandma's door yet when the deed was done.  And it's been smooth going ever since, so to speak.

Tuesday evening, we went to Chuck E. Cheese to celebrate.  The kids had a blast, as usual, but we were all cranky and overtired by the time we got home.  We have a second reward planned for Sammy, but he doesn't know about it yet.

See, lately he's been asking for a puppy.  We're not ready to take that step just yet, but we've decided to get him a hamster or a gerbil instead.  So Saturday morning, we're going to take him to pick out a small rodent of his very own.  I just hope this one isn't an escape artist, like the previous hamster I owned (whose name was Baby Houdini).  I kid you not, that hamster could escape from any cage designed by man.  That thing was lucky it lived as long as it did, since I also had two cats.  I couldn't tell you how many times I came home from work and walked in the door to see the cats intently staring at the hamster - but they never harmed it.  Sadly, Baby Houdini met his end by escaping in front of a not-so-tolerant cat, after I gave him up when I moved in with Ron.  This time, I've done my research and I think I've discovered what looks to be a hamster-proof and small-child-proof cage.  Let's hope so, anyway.

Having Kids Is Finally Starting to Pay Off

I sat around, ate bon-bons and caught up on my soaps while the kids did this:

(And no, I don't really watch soaps.  No comment on the bon-bons.)

Good Times and Bad Times

When Sammy was 2 1/2, that was a really rough age for me. It seemed he was constantly testing the limits, throwing tantrums, and generally being a pain in the butt. Not that there weren't good times, too, but in general, it was very trying for me.

Then, shortly before he turned 3, things turned around. He became an easy-going, happy child. He still throws an occasional tantrum, or willfully defies me, but I can usually turn things around pretty quickly. Sunday, he didn't nap (par for the course on the weekends these days) so by 6:00 he was falling apart with tiredness. After about half an hour of butting heads with him over EVERYTHING, he came up to me and said, "I need a hug and a kiss." We snuggled for a few minutes, and then I had a talk with him about how tired he was, and that that was probably why he was having such a hard time listening. Wouldn't you know, after that he acted like an angel until bedtime at 7:00. Easy peasy.

So, what's this I've always heard about the 3's being so much more terrible than the 2's? Unfortunately, I've discovered this current behavior is probably a short-lived phase. I read a study recently that basically said that children tend to be easy-going and well-behaved around their birthdays. Around their half-birthdays, they go through a phase where everything changes and their behavior becomes disruptive, defiant, and lock-yourself-in-the-bathroom-and-have-a-good-scream inducing. (Sorry, I did a quick Google search, and couldn't figure out the right combination of keywords to link to the study. You'll just have to take my word for it, unless I can come up with the citation later.)

The biggest problem for me is that my kids are about a year and a half apart in age. If you do the math, you'll see that we will always have a kid going through the difficult phase. This is proving true right now - Natalie is going through a difficult stage, while Sammy has been well-behaved.

I also have a copy of a "Cycles of Development" chart from The Gesell Institute of Child Development, but that is even less encouraging. I don't know if I can legally scan in the chart and post it here, but the citation on the bottom of the sheet says the Gesell Institute books are available at your public library. The cycles are: A) Smooth; B) Breakup; C) Sorting-Out; D)Inwardizing; E) Expansion; and F) "Neurotic". I don't exactly know the definitions of all those categories, but "smooth" is the only one that sounds promising to me. The only ages under the "smooth" phase are: 4 weeks, 40 weeks, 2 years, 5 years, 10 years, and 16 years. That seems like an awful lot of time spent in cycles B through F.

Maybe no one but me is interested in this sort of thing, so I'm sorry if I've bored you to tears! (I have a degree in psychology, so obviously I find the brain fascinating.)

Heavy Discussions

We had lay-offs at work yesterday.  (I know, not a good idea to blog about work - but since that statement probably pertains to about 90 percent of companies in this country, I don't think I'm giving away any state secrets.)  We'd known it was coming since before Thanksgiving, but yesterday is when the announcements were made as to how many, and who exactly, would be let go.

One of the people let go is someone that I've worked closely with over the years.  I've become very fond of her and was sick when I found out that she had lost her job.  Last night, I was sitting with the kids as they were watching a cartoon, and I had time to think.  A couple of silent tears rolled down my cheeks, and unfortunately, Sammy chose that time to turn around to tell me something.

He was very concerned, and wanted to know where I was hurt.  I had to explain to him that I was sad, and of course he wanted to know why.  I thought quickly, trying to put it in terms that a 3-year-old could understand.  I decided to tell him that a friend of mine wasn't going to be able to come to work with me anymore.  He pushed it still further, asking "Why?" so I told him that my company didn't have enough money to pay her.

He thought for a minute, then got a big grin on his face as he came up with the solution.  "They'll just have to buy some more money!" he said and, having solved the problem, turned back to his TV show.  Gotta love the innocence of childhood.

Later I got to thinking and realized that our government thinks a lot like a preschooler.  No more money?  Just print some more up!  Add it to our debt!  

However, politicians thinking this way is not nearly as cute as when it's a preschooler.

Hi! Remember Me?

Life has been crazy the past few weeks. I haven't had much computer time, so I'm really far behind on reading blogs and writing on my own. Now that Sammy's birthday is over, I think life will get back to normal.

The day of his birthday, we took the kids to the Mall of America and did all the tourist-y things, like touring Underwater Adventures (an aquarium) and riding rides at Nickelodeon Universe. The kids were cranky and tired afterwards (okay, I admit it - the adults were, too) but it was a fun day.

The party was on Sunday, and I thought it went great! This year, we rented a banquet room at a nearby hotel, and I think that worked out well. It saved me the stress of having to clean (and KEEP clean) my house beforehand, and I think it was well worth the $100 for the 4-hour rental. My only regret is that we didn't pay the extra $50 to rent it for a full 8 hours. You'd think 4 hours would be plenty of time for a 3-year-old's birthday party, wouldn't you? Of course, the first hour was devoted to decorating and setting up food - but we had to shut things down when the party was still going strong, and I felt bad about that.

The banquet room was attached to the pool, so the kids had a great time swimming with their cousins. I discovered that Natalie is a Pisces at heart - a little water-baby. Being the second child, she misses out on a lot, and one of the things I regret is that I didn't have a chance to bring her to Community Ed swimming classes like I did when Sammy was a baby. I plan to fix that by signing her up for the next session.

So, there's my update. I promise to be around more now.

What I Did On My Christmas Vacation

My vacation, by the numbers:

3...Christmas celebrations with various branches of the family

1...Trip to the Children's Museum

1...Case of the stomach flu, probably a memento from one of the patrons of the Children's Museum

2...Trips to the sledding hill

84...Trips up the sledding hill

7,483...approximate number of times I inflated and released rocket balloons for the kids (the orange thing in the upper right hand corner, for the uninitiated)

12...rocket balloons which popped

12...number of near heart attacks resulting from the balloons popping*

846...approximate number of times I chased Natalie off of the kitchen table

2...pairs of mittens knitted for the little kid-ens who are always losing their mittens

3...forts built and demolished

18...art projects started and abandoned at various stages of completion

23...different "potsicle horses" created to amuse the kids (If Sammy reaches elementary school without knowing how to properly say "obstacle courses", I take full responsibility.  I find it so hilarious that I can't help but do exactly what you're not supposed to do, and I use the phrase myself.)

*For those who don't already know, I am deathly afraid of loud noises, i.e. popping balloons, cars backfiring, and gunfire.  I think the fact that I tolerated so much balloon play over our vacation should earn me some extra Mommy Brownie Points (MBPs).  Possibly to cancel out the MBPs deducted when I lost my temper at the kids for being kids and getting fingerpaint all over every.square.inch of the kitchen table, their clothes, and their bodies during one of our art projects.

Living in a Winter Wonderland

It has been so freaking cold this winter.  I'm disappointed, because we couldn't go to the Holidazzle Parade this year, and we also haven't been able to take advantage of free ice-skating. You see, I'm rather fond of my kids - I'd hate to lose them to hypothermia.  So we've been spending A LOT of time indoors.  My sanity is suffering because of it.  Do you know what it's like to be trapped inside a smallish house with two kids under the age of three for AN ENTIRE WEEKEND?  I'd imagine it's a lot like being pecked to death by chickens.  Really loud chickens.  Who like to risk their necks by climbing up on tall things, and also? pulling every single tissue out of a Kleenex box, one by one, leaving a sodden mess on the living room carpet.  Because OF COURSE Kleenex must also be shredded into tasty bite-size pieces, then chewed up and spit out after the flavor is gone.

But!  On Saturday, it was actually warm outside.  (Ha - everything is relative.  Three months ago, I would have called 20 degrees unbearable.  Now, I'm all like, is that with a minus sign in front or not?  Did you say above zero?  Pour me a pina colada!)  

In addition to being warm, we got about 5 inches of snow.  So we bundled up and went outside to enjoy the brief respite from below-zero temperatures.  Approximately 12 hours later, the temperature dropped 40 degrees and we were dropped harshly back to the reality that is winter in Minnesota.

(Not long after this picture was taken, Natalie realized there was no hope of getting back up on her own while wearing all that clothing.  After that whenever she fell, she lay on her back, like an overturned turtle, waiting patiently for someone to come and help her stand up again.)

Keeping Me Laughing

Children are great mimics. Sometimes this is really cute. Other times, like when your child tells you to go into time-out because you are NOT LISTENING, it’s not quite as cute.

One cute thing Sam has picked up from me is that he sings to himself all the time. Oh, don’t get me wrong – it’s not cute when I sing – in fact, some might describe it as “nails on a chalkboard” or “incredibly annoying”. But it’s cute to see Sam doing it.

This morning, as he was eating his scrambled eggs, he was singing quietly under his breath: “I’m eating my eggs, eating my eggs; Please don’t, don’t bother me, I’m eating my eggs”.

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One other cute Sam story, since I can’t seem to think of anything else to write about today:

As are most little boys (and some girls!) Sam is very much into tractors. Last night, we were talking about tractors and how the different colors are different brands. Like, green tractors are John Deere, and yellow tractors (well, construction equipment, but we call them all tractors around here) are Caterpillars.

“No,” he said matter-of-factly. “Caterpillars don’t live in the snow.”

I tried to explain that Caterpillar was also a company that makes tractors. He broke in and said, “Worms are NOT tractors, Mommy,” in a “you’re-an-idiot” tone of voice.

“Good point,” I said, and left it at that.

Internet Dangers

One of the many things I love about having an almost-3-year-old are the endless questions. I'm not even being sarcastic when I say this - I really do love hearing the things Sam comes up with these days! One day, while watching Finding Nemo, he asked me how a fish sleeps. I think I answered that one to his satisfaction, but when the next day he asked me what a flamingo says, I was stumped. So we went to the internet to find out.

I decided to start with YouTube, and typed in the keyword "flamingo". Surprisingly, there weren't a lot of options and as I glanced down the list, I saw a title that was something about a baboon and a flamingo. Okay, that sounded like it might actually have an actual flamingo in it, unlike most of the other videos that came up.

So, that particular clip starts out with a baboon watching a huge flock of flamingos. Maybe you see where this is going, but I was oblivious and when the baboon attacked and ate a flamingo, I almost knocked over the kids in my mad scramble for the "pause" button.

You know, I don't really think Sam understood what was happening, though (or maybe he's a future hunter?), because he keeps asking to watch the flamingo video again. Luckily, I was able to find another 7-minute video of a trip to the zoo that has a brief cameo of a flamingo in it, and that satisfied him.

I'll consider that his first lesson on *cue the music* "the cirrrrrrcle of liiiiiiiife...and it moves us allllllll...."

The Blue Dress

Natalie has a closetful of beautiful dresses, as most little girls do. Ron, who dresses the kids in the morning and drops them off at daycare, chooses to dress her in practical jeans and tops during the week. So, on the weekends when I choose her clothing, I usually put her in a dress.

Yesterday, I chose a beautiful deep blue velvet dress for her, and as she walked through the living room afterwards, I exclaimed over how beautiful she looked. Sammy, who was sitting on the couch watching TV, hardly glanced up as he commented, "She looks like a big blueberry."

Are boys are just born to say things like that? I think have my work cut out for me, to mold him into a caring, supportive man.