Blogging Texas Mommy

Threw Me For a Loop

2009-02-12T12:49:00.002-06:00

Ethan's been doing great at grasping his numbers, and how they go together to form new numbers. He asks me about numbers he sees on street signs, on the price tags at the grocery store, and at the bottom of pages in our books.

Sometimes he gets silly and throws several random numbers together just to see how big a number we will tell him.

Sometimes, just when you think you know where he's going, you're wrong.

Today, for example, he asked me with a mischievous grin, "Mommy, what does 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 7 and 6 mean?"

Time Goes Too Fast

2009-02-08T15:26:00.002-06:00

I'm going to miss all that sweet baby pudge! It's disappearing way too fast. *sniffle*

Q(s)OTD

2009-02-06T16:07:00.002-06:00

Ethan: *happy sigh* I'm so glad you're a grown up.

Me: You are? Why?

Ethan: Because then you like to let us play outside.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ethan (on being told to clean his room so we can play a game): I'm on it!! That means I win!

Missing the Point

2009-02-05T16:32:00.002-06:00

So Aidan walked into the room carrying my iTouch. A definite no-no.

I held out my hand and said, "That is not yours. Give that to me right now please."

So he walked up to me and out of his mouth came a play food hot dog.

That's not what I meant, Mr. Deliberately Obtuse. But thanks for the spit.

Shopping Spree

2009-01-20T15:11:00.005-06:00

So on Sunday we drove to Dallas with one of our friends and went to IKEA. We've been planning for months to get new bedroom furniture for the kids, and we finally had our chance. We ended up having to split it into two trips (the second to come in spring or summer) so we got some of the things we needed now, and will get the rest of what we want later on.

When the dust settled, Ethan had a room full of new furniture, and Aidan had a new bed.

Ethan went from a rickety toddler bed, a table with a taped-together leg, two chairs and a walk-in closet that didn't have space for clothes because it was rapidly filling up with toys and books, to this:

And Aidan went from a crib that had seen far better days (and, we learned a couple of weeks ago, had been recalled) to this (he'll get some matching pieces when we go back):

Aidan's bed is extendable. Right now it's pushed together small, so that he can have the sides up and get used to it, and after a while we can pull it out and make it into a twin. He is SO in love with his new bed, and he transitioned smoothly to staying in it at night (but not so much for naps).

Then, yesterday, we got the voucher from the crib company, to get a new crib for Dylan. Luckily that won't have to take another big bite out of Dave's paychecks.

I will admit that it hurt to spend so much money at one time, but it was sorely needed, and the kids love it all.

Now on to the next (cheaper) project: a lick of paint in each room, to tie it all together!

Lessons in Linguistics

2009-01-12T13:31:00.003-06:00

Southern Vernacular 101 with Professor Ethan

Mess (n.)

Definition: a large quantity

Example: Mommy, I need a plate to use with my sandwich because I don't like to put a mess of crusts on the table.

Synonyms: passel, heap

*~*~*~*~*

Google Maps Vernacular 101

Turn Right on FM 344 E. Go 0.2 Miles. Destination Will Be On the Right.

Definition: Turn left on FM 344 E. Go 1.7 miles. Destination will be on the left.

Example: I suppose it's obvious. It was us. After lunch. Trying to make a "quick" trip to a FedEx drop box. We found it. No thanks to Google.

Synonyms:#&%$@

Who Are You and What Have You Done With My Son?

2009-01-06T19:24:00.002-06:00

We are at the church for Adventurer's Club. They are learning this week about healthy foods and how your body needs different veggies and fruits and grains to be healthy.

They colored and cut and crafted and then sat in story circle with a snack plate piled high with fruits, veggies, and grains while the teacher read them a book.

Ethan just came tearing up to me and shouted excitedly, "Mommy!! Next time we have dinner, can we have some broccoli and macaroni?!?! I LOVE broccoli!!"

To which I responded yes, of course, absolutely.

And I meant it.

Chocolate Surprise

2009-01-05T11:01:00.003-06:00

These are the cupcakes I made for Aidan's party. I made the bees by squirting on yellow frosting, drizzling on stripes with melted chocolate chips, and sticking on almond wings.

Earlier in the day I had melted chocolate chips to drizzle over Rice Krispie squares to make "Tigger Treats." I drizzled and drizzled and drizzled away, and then the corner of my baggie exploded and plopped a huge clump of melted chocolate on a corner of the treats. It wasn't a problem - we are never short of willing volunteers to gobble up the mistakes.

But you'd think I'd have learned my lesson.

No, I didn't. I never do.

I melted more chocolate to drizzle the bees, and having drizzled them without mishap, thinking I had gotten the hang of this drizzling business, I took the baggie full of chocolate over to Ethan, who was sitting on the couch, to treat him to a small drizzle of chocolate.

"Chin up, open wide," I said, and squeezed the bag, which promptly burst its seam and unloaded about half a cup of melted chocolate chips on the front of his shirt. To say we were all startled would just about sum it up. Though for Ethan it was mixed with sheer delight at suddenly having more chocolate on his shirt than he has ever had at any other time in his life.

For whatever reason, within about half a second after it landed, it was all over his hands, so it took some adroit maneuvering to get him up off the couch without him touching anything. I got him up on the stool at the kitchen sink, and was interrupted by a call from an invited guest letting us know they couldn't come. The interruption didn't bother Ethan at all - he stood there calmly sucking the front of his shirt until I could get back to him, and managed to have it pretty thoroughly "pre-rinsed" by the time I peeled it off.

I got him scrubbed clean and in fresh clothes in a jiffy, but apparently ALL that unintended chocolate didn't contain quite enough sugar, because the first thing he did, heading back through the kitchen from the laundry room? He asked me for a cupcake.

Happy Birthday, Aidan!

2009-01-04T21:48:00.003-06:00

Aidan's third birthday was yesterday, and his first real party was today, albeit a mini one.

Since he is the more introverted of the boys, I kept it VERY low-key. I invited 4 of the children he sees most and plays best with, his Sabbath School teacher, and her teenaged niece. Since two of the children were sick and couldn't make it, at the peak of the party we had only 7 extra people in the house.

We did a Winnie the Pooh theme. I set up several snacks on the bar, and made a gallon of punch. The cupcakes stole the show (I will post pictures soon, I hope) - honey cupcakes with honey cream cheese frosting and decorated with frosting bees with almond wings.

When the time came for singing and cake, I couldn't find the candles for his cupcakes! Of all the things not to have at a birthday party!! I searched everywhere they could possibly be, and turned up nothing. I couldn't bear the thought of him not having a candle to blow out, so I took a Glade candle off the mantel and lit it, and we sang and he blew it out. He was thrilled and didn't care a bit that it wasn't a true cake candle. Then he ate TWO cupcakes.

Four of our guests even stayed and shared dinner with us, an added bonus to an already lovely day (I love feeding people!).

We had a wonderful time, and when everyone left and told him "Happy Birthday!" on their way out the door, he responded, "Happy Birthday!"

I'm so glad he enjoyed his first party. I can't believe he's three - he's growing up so fast.

Happy birthday, my sweet Aidan! You are so special and loved.

Soups

2008-12-30T18:52:00.003-06:00

These are two of my favorites, and we have them frequently.

The lentil soup is amalgam of two different recipes. One, from Cook's Illustrated, was difficult, time-consuming, and expensive, involving bacon, white wine, several steps and a lot of watching. All that was well and good when it was just Dave and me, or even after we had Ethan, but now? I don't feel like standing over a stove for an hour to make a soup. My favorite soups require far less attention. And then I found a second recipe in Cooking Light. It was very similar, but left out the bacon and the wine and didn't require as much hands-on time. It's still not as simple as some other soups I make, but it's not over the top, and it's VERY worth it (the spices make it so). I double the recipe and freeze what's left. It freezes beautifully.

LENTIL SOUP

2 TB olive oil
2 1/2 cups chopped onion
1 cup chopped celery
1 cup chopped carrot
1/2 tsp dried thyme (or you can just throw in a large sprig when you add the liquids, and take it out before you puree)
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 bay leaf
1 tsp each of cinnamon, coriander, and cumin
1/4 tsp cayenne
1 1/2 cups dried petite green lentils (I just use regular brown ones from the store)
4 cups chicken broth
1 cup water
1 (14.5 oz) can petite diced tomatoes, drained
2 TB lemon juice
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 tsp fresh ground pepper

Heat oil in large saucepan over med-hi heat. Add onion and next 5 ingredients (through bay leaf) to pan; saute 12 minutes (I do this on a much lower heat - I don't have good luck with my onions burning - med hi is way to high for me, but then I turn it up when I add the lentils). Add the next 4 spices at the last two minutes or so of this step.

Add lentils, cook 2 minutes stirring constantly.

Stir in broth, water, and tomatoes; bring to boil.

Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 40 minutes until lentils are very tender.

Remove from heat, discard bay leaf (and thyme sprig, if using).

Whir it with an immersion blender just to thicken it a little - not too much. Or, transfer three cups of soup to a blender, remove center piece of lid, cover lid lightly with a dish towel, and puree until smooth. Add back to pot.

Add lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Stir well.

Neither recipe calls for this, but we LOVE this soup over brown rice.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The roasted red pepper soup is from Cook's Country, and we make it frequently. I have never roasted a pepper in my life. Thank goodness they come in jars, pre-roasted. I double this one too, but it doesn't usually leave us enough to freeze, since Dave takes it to work and Dylan and I have it for lunch too. This soup is super easy, and absolutely delicious.

2 TB unsalted butter
4 cloves garlic, slivered
1 medium onion, chopped
salt
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
3 cups jarred roasted red bell peppers, drained and rinsed
1/2 tsp hot red pepper flakes
5 sprigs fresh thyme
3 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
1 cup water
3/4 cup heavy cream
Ground black pepper

1. Heat butter in Dutch oven over medium-high heat until just melted. Add garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until lightly browned, 1 to 1 1/2 minutes. Add onion and 1/2 teaspoon salt and cook until beginning to brown, 4 to 5 minutes. Add flour and stir constantly until flour is lightly toasted, about 45 seconds. Add red peppers, pepper flakes, thyme sprigs, broth, and water and bring to boil. Reduce heat, partially cover, and simmer until peppers are soft, about 20 minutes.

2. Remove and discard thyme sprigs. Working in batches, puree soup in blender until smooth and creamy (Or use the immersion blender. Hooray for immersion blenders!!). Return soup to clean pot over low heat, stir in cream, and adjust the seasonings with salt and pepper. Serve hot.

We float croutons on top. Soooo good!!

Enjoy!

Freedom

2008-12-29T11:54:00.002-06:00

Dylan was incarcerated in his Pack N Play for his own protection. He's developed a bad habit of trying to climb on the back of the couch, and I'm extremely nervous he is going to fall and crack his head open on the tile.

Ethan, with no warning, upended the playpen, and just like that, Dylan walked free.

He was very startled to suddenly find himself out of the playpen, and kept going back to it and peeking in with a puzzled look on his face.

Is it naptime yet? I'm very ready.

He Did It!

2008-12-22T20:03:00.001-06:00

Aidan is walking again! Stiffly, but walking just the same, and VERY proud of himself, and VERY excited to finally be mobile again! His delighted laughter is infectious.

Brilliant!

2008-12-20T15:20:00.003-06:00

Ethan was having a VERY difficult time sitting still and being quiet in church this morning. Sitting next to him was a couple I didn't remember seeing before. They looked a little severe so I was trying even more desperately than usual to keep him quiet and still (Dave had taken Dylan out, so I was on my own with the other two), and hoping against hope that he wasn't being too much of a distraction.

Since they didn't have small children with them, I was astonished when she turned to Ethan and gave him three strips of colored star stickers and a small scrap of paper. She pulled out one of the hymnals and a pen, and laying the paper on the hymnal for support, she wrote "Jesus," "God," and "Heroes" (a secondary topic of today's sermon). She then whispered to Ethan that he must listen to the pastor very carefully, and whenever he heard the pastor say the word "Jesus," he must put a purple star next to his name. "God" was a yellow star, and any mention of a hero - be it King David, Hercules, or Superman - was a green one.

It was slow going, since today was the Christmas sermon, so he used the word "Messiah" far more than any others, but he did mention David a few times, which we counted as Hero, and talked at length about "Behold the Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the world," so we used up the yellow stars pretty quickly.

It was just the thing. I'm ashamed I never thought of it myself, and I'm going to steal the idea and use it every week. It's a GREAT activity for his age, and it actually gets him listening to the sermon. It's a perfect idea in every way.

Then out of nowhere she produced colored pencils, and more paper, and I was wondering who in the world this angel was, and why she had all these things when she didn't have any little children of her own, and feeling wretched for having thought she looked at all severe. Nothing could have been further from the truth, and she was FAR more prepared than I was (I had forgotten to bring their usual coloring books and magnadoodles, which wouldn't matter anyway, because familiarity hath bred contempt) and with much better ideas than I could ever hope to have.

Ethan drew some pictures, and then, after asking me to write his name, he copied it. HE WROTE HIS NAME. He actually made a decent-looking A, even - something he's been fighting me on for what feels like weeks.

When the sermon was over, I thanked her profusely, and complimented her on her wonderful sticker idea.

She was SUCH a blessing, and I just hope she also had a chance to listen to the sermon a little as well!

What Were They Thinking?

2008-12-18T19:33:00.003-06:00

You know what I love? I will tell you what I love.

Blatantly suggestive commercials for M&Ms and Arby's.

You know what I love even more?

I love those ads on ABC Family, right smack in the middle of Mary Poppins.

Yep, that's reeeeeally smart advertising.

Update on Aidan

2008-12-16T10:58:00.002-06:00

First of all, thank you Jamie and Kerrie for the good ideas for keeping Aidan occupied. We've been keeping relatively busy and happy.

He's doing much better. Yesterday morning he let me put pants on him for the first time since the injury (he had been saying it hurt to pull them over his foot - even scrunched up to minimize the contact). Then yesterday afternoon after his nap, he said he felt better and was able to stand, albeit gingerly. And later that night I had left him sitting on the couch to get Ethan ready for bed and when I came out he had climbed down and hobbled to the edge of the carpet, clinging to the edges of the couch for support, but could go no further, as the edges of the couch had run out. He'd been on his way to watch the oven timer, one of his favorite pastimes, and evidently a powerful incentive for his recovery.

We were invited to the open jump at Pump It Up today, but had to reluctantly turn it down. Though he's made quite a bit of progress in the past 24 hours, there's no way Aidan's ready to jump in a bounce house. We do, however, have a Christmas party tonight at Chuck E. Cheese that I think we're going to try to make. I think he might enjoy eating pizza and watching the shows at least. They do have some crafty activities planned also, I think, and our Secret Santa gift exchange, so enough to keep him busy I hope, even if he can't run around.

Ethan's been a big help, unselfishly offering his toys to Aidan, and suggesting to me things he might like.

And so on down the road to full recovery we go.

The Invalid

2008-12-13T18:31:00.004-06:00

So this morning Dave took Ethan to church and I was to follow with the little two ones after they were up and fed.

While I was feeding Dylan his breakfast, Aidan was playing in Ethan's room, and suddenly I heard a bang and Aidan started crying. It wasn't a normal cry. It was one that I've been trying to describe all day, and I still can't. It was....different.

I went in to see what had happened, and he was on the floor with the flimsy little footstool from the boys' bathroom stuck on his ankle. I gather he had been trying to reach the switch to turn on the ceiling fan, and the stool tipped and he took a tumble. I disentangled him, held and comforted him, but he wouldn't stop sobbing. I asked what hurt and he said it was his "blanket" (ankle). I asked if he could walk, and tried to help him to the couch, but he wouldn't put weight on that foot, and was shaking and sobbing. I carried him to the couch and made him as comfortable as possible with a big pillow and Soft Blanket, and dosed him with Tylenol. He still wouldn't stop crying. I turned on Tigger and Pooh - an episode about butterflies no less, one of his favorite things - and still he cried. He cried for a little over half an hour while I frantically emailed and called Dave trying to decide whether to take him to urgent care. He was in a lot of pain, but there didn't seem to be any swelling or bruising, so I figured it wasn't a sprain, but thought maybe a fracture would be, well, obvious.

Finally the Tylenol seemed to kick in, and he settled down somewhat to watch the Pooh Heffalump movie, though he was still fitful at times, moaning and saying, "hurt!" I wrapped his foot and ankle in an Ace bandage and watched him carefully while I finished feeding Dylan. Soon after that he seemed to regress pain-wise, so I dosed him with Motrin and emailed Dave to meet us at the clinic.

He was a champ at the clinic. Even though another little boy in the waiting room - one younger than him no less - was getting in his face talking trash and trying to pick a fight (the parents did nothing, and Aidan was not taking the bait anyway, but I finally just stepped in and told him enough is enough and to go away). The wait was long, but he was as patient as you could expect an almost-three-year-old to be, and he was perfectly still for his x-rays.

There was no fracture, he has soft tissue damage. We got copies of the x-rays to bring home, which delighted Ethan. The doctor said we can expect him to be able to bear weight on his foot again within about a week, and if he still can't after that long, he will need further x-rays.

But in the meantime, my poor little invalid was bored senseless about 15 minutes after we got home. He's not taking well to sitting on the couch watching movies and reading, I'm afraid. He tried once to crawl around and play with his brothers, but Dylan fell on his ankle (CRINGE), so it was back to the couch again.

Any ideas for a bored, couchbound little boy? He's done books and movies, and blowing bubbles might be good for a bit, but I'm going to need at least a couple days worth of activity. He doesn't like to color, so that's out (pity). I'm not sure why, but I'm coming up with nothing idea-wise.

Help!

Things I Never Imagined Saying, Number 673

2008-12-12T13:46:00.001-06:00

"Get that maraca out of your underwear."

Topsy-Turvy World

2008-12-10T21:22:00.001-06:00

RIGHT THIS MINUTE, IT IS WARMER IN CONNECTICUT, BY 10 DEGREES, THAN IT IS IN TEXAS.

You may now commence freaking out.

Quote of the Day

2008-12-10T20:31:00.001-06:00

Ethan: (hyperventilating dramatically)

Me: (puzzled stare)

Ethan: What am I doing, Mommy?

Me: I don't know; what are you doing?

Ethan: I'm artichoking!

Dylan Watch 2008

2008-12-10T15:25:00.002-06:00

After checking on him obsessively every 15 minutes, I finally got Dylan up at about 3:15PM.

Not up from his nap. Up from sleeping all night. And all morning. And most of the afternoon.

He's not sick. No fever. He's in high spirits, munching happily on a peanut butter sandwich, pears and juice, and flirting shamelessly with me while I empty the dishwasher.

I guess the time change just finally caught up with him.

Christmas Spirit

2008-12-10T12:41:00.003-06:00

Being sick over our Thanksgiving break left me with a skewed sense of time. Consequently, the fact that there are only about 2 weeks left until Christmas sort of snuck* up on me.

Dave has mostly finished shopping online for the boys, and I've been spending the morning browsing for little extras to round things out. I've been listening to Christmas music. I've been planning this year's tree (probably very much like last year's tree, except that this year I hope to actually finish it). I've been busily gathering cookie recipes, having been informed by Amazon that the press I ordered yesterday is on its way. In the same package will be The Christmas Miracle of Jonathan Toomey.

Today it's dreary and cold - Texas is actually acting like it's winter, for a change - and I'm really looking forward to heating up the rest of the soup in the fridge and snuggling in on the couch.

I find myself getting into the spirit of things despite the fact that today the kids have given me a twitch in my left eye, and I'm counting the minutes to naptime, although today naptime will likely offer me no break, because as of right now, 12:52PM, Dylan is still sleeping soundly and will likely wake up as soon as the other two are sequestered. (Yes, I checked on him to make sure he hadn't choked on a sock or anything. He's fine.)

So merry, merry, and ho ho ho. Wonder if I can talk Dave into getting a tree tonight?

*An aside: Blogger thinks "snuck" is not a word. I've got news for you, Blogger. Despite it now being widely accepted? Sneaked. Is. NOT. A. Word.

UPDATE: Oh my gosh, I'm so embarrassed. Sneaked IS correct. Snuck is merely accepted, from those who don't know any better. Such as...well, me. SOURCE

Vacation

2008-12-07T10:06:00.002-06:00

We're back from Tennessee!

We drove to visit Dave's mom for Thanksgiving. It was a great visit, except for the getting sick parts.

Sunday night I was hit with a nasty stomach bug and couldn't keep anything down. When I finally broke down and went to the Dr. Monday night, Ethan threw up in the van on the way there (thank goodness for empty Cool Whip containers!) so Dave checked us both in. Ethan had ear infections, and I was given something for nausea.

Then Dave came down with a slightly different manifestation of the same bug, and his mom with a kidney infection.

We rallied enough to go to Dollywood on Wednesday for the Polar Express 4-D ride, the Christmas lights, the carousel, and some hot chocolate. Then we took it easy for the rest of the visit.

And I am going to have to talk to Ethan's pediatrician about finding an effective antibiotic that isn't pink. Ethan has a sensitivity to artificial coloring, in that when he ingests it (particularly any of the reds) my normally highly-active child is transformed into a cross between Tigger and a whirling dervish. He does not stop moving EVER and can't pay attention even to things that would normally hold him spellbound. He spent this past week just bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce-bouncing about grandma's house, ignoring any and all directives.

So we drove back last night and made excellent time. The children traveled well (even Dylan, for the most part), and it was an uneventful drive, which is exactly how I like it. But can I just say...Hey, Mississippi! What the heck?! I don't know if any of the rest of you have driven I-20 through Mississippi to know what I'm talking about, but it's a good thing none of my family is prone to motion sickness. How do you even make a road like that - one that rides like a choppy sea? Dip after dip after stomach-flipping dip. It was a very dramatic ride. Ethan enjoyed it immensely.

We stopped at IHOP for dinner, thinking it would be something the kids would scarf so we could get back on the road. I ordered pancakes for the kids with a banana smiley face and strawberry eyes, and a tube of strawberry yogurt to draw hair. Then I left for the restroom. When I returned, our waitress was back at our table and was telling Dave they were out of those pancakes, and had her hands full of her substitutions - chocolate pancakes with chocolate chip smileys, and whipped cream and maraschino cherry eyes. O....K. Whatever. In the interest of expediency, I told her that was fine, and everyone dug in (after they requested syrup - which I obliged. In for a penny, in for a pound).

A hop and a skip later (though the skip seemed to last hours) we were home, and got all three kids to bed in record time.

When I checked our messages, I was reminded that today is a field trip to Plantation Pines for the Adventurer's Club. No rest for the weary!

I have a vague recollection of taking some pictures on our trip. If there are any worth posting, I'll put them up later this evening.

Dave just brought Dylan in, so I should fix him some breakfast.

We miss Tennessee, but it's good to be home.

Reassurance

2008-11-25T08:32:00.002-06:00

Dylan's picked up a couple of fun habits lately, one of which is getting into the drawer under the oven (which incidentally does have a childproof latch!...which obviously doesn't work! gah!), pulling out my bread pans, and banging them around quite a bit. It's kind of loud. His other trick, infinitely more fun, is to climb on top of the entertainment center to turn on the TV. He gets footholds on the shelves, and pulls himself up the rest of the way using the childproofing faceplate on the DVR (obviously my kids scoff at childproofing). It's like rock climbing for babies.

Whenever I catch him doing things like this, I call warningly, "Baby Dylan...." and he instantly stops whatever he is doing, toddles over to me, and hugs me around the legs, with his cheek pressed tight against my knee.

And then, he goes right back to whatever he was doing. As if I just needed some reassurance that he knew what he was doing and it was all OK.

New Blog

2008-11-21T21:11:00.002-06:00

Dave mentioned keeping track of Ethan's work and progress somehow and of course the first thing I thought of was another blog.

Here it is.

This week we've been doing a lot of worksheets while I try to figure out what concepts he knows and what needs work. From a schooling point of view, it's different than just knowing how advanced he is in some areas. That won't matter if he can't read or count.

So. If you'd like to follow us on our journey, you are more than welcome. Suggestions are always welcome as well. I hope to morph out of the workbooks and into unit studies at some point, at which point the daily posts will hopefully become more interesting.

Recovering

2008-11-21T10:17:00.003-06:00

Dylan has been sick now for a little over a week and a half. It started with a high fever that lasted a day or two, but then he just never seemed to get over it. He fought me when I tried to feed him, and he wouldn't sleep at all. Naps were always cut short, as were nights. No sleep and minimal food was making him grouchy, and I've never seen tantrums like the ones I've seen this week. In that department, he's got the other two boys beat hands down.

I took him to the doctor on Wednesday because he'd developed a rattle and a squeak in his breathing, and seemed to be coughing more instead of less. She pronounced his ears and lungs clear, and his RSV test was negative, so she just put it down to a miscellaneous virus and gave him a small course of steroids and breathing treatments to get him over the wheezing hump.

The past two night have been the hardest as far as feeding him. He fought so hard it was ridiculous. And yet I knew that if he didn't have dinner, he'd be up at the crack of dawn screaming for a breakfast he probably wouldn't even eat.

Yesterday morning, sure enough, he was up at 6. Then didn't take a nap. By dinnertime, he was a wreck. He'd been throwing tantrums right and left (one of them lasting well over half an hour), and his eyes were red and puffy. I sat him in his seat and tried to feed him what I thought was a safe bet: oatmeal. He knocked the spoon from my hand, and sent food flying, he angrily rubbed oatmeal into his eyes and his nose, and deftly blocked nearly every single bite from reaching his mouth. I'm not typically one for pushing dinner on a kid who doesn't want it, but he hadn't wanted anything for days. He was waking up starving. He was miserable. He needed to eat, so he could sleep soundly.

I pulled some strawberry applesauce out of the fridge and mixed a little oatmeal into it. He was receptive to that for a minute, and then started fighting again. I heated it up, and albeit with a little resistance here and there, he finished the whole thing, and went to bed a little before 7.

And this morning he slept until 10:30.

I think it's a good sign, and I hope he's finally on the mend. My poor baby.

Thoughts on Classics for Kids

2008-11-17T20:41:00.005-06:00

I've written before about the simplified versions of classic literature, intended for children (but am too lazy at the moment to dig up the post).

In doing research this week for homeschooling supplies (now that he's FIVE *gasp* I feel I must start more formally and in earnest), I stumbled across Shakespeare for children, and started thinking about this topic again and wondering how on earth anyone can be against such a wonderful tool.

And I came up with an analogy.

When Dylan was new, no one in their right mind would have dreamed of feeding him carrot sticks. He didn't have any teeth, didn't have any clue about chewing even if he'd had them, and he would have choked.

But carrots were so good for him. Should he wait to enjoy carrots until he had all of his teeth? Could he not benefit from them and enjoy them?

Of course he could. No, he couldn't experience the wonderful snap and the crunch of a raw carrot, but there's more to a carrot than the snap and the crunch. He could learn to like the taste of a carrot, and benefit from the nutrition.

And so we pureed them. And he loved them, of course. It didn't make them NOT carrots. It just made them age-appropriate carrots.

Now he is older, has some teeth, but he still can't handle raw carrots. He doesn't need them pureed, however. Now he can have them steamed.

And in another year or so, he'll be ready for small pieces of raw carrot. He'll already know and like the taste, and be primed for the snap and the crunch of the "real" thing.

So it is with literature adapted for children (keep in mind I am not referring to children's literature - a whole other matter). Yes, it's simplified; some might even call it "dumbed-down." But I have to wonder why that is a bad thing. Can they not benefit from literature even from the youngest of ages? Can literature not grow with the child? Can we not instill appreciation in our children at an early age?

Yes, I read to Ethan above his age (as I think we all should, frankly), but even I am not going to try to make him sit still for Dumas or Hugo at this age. It would be ridiculous. He would "choke."

I know that I am preaching to the choir here, but I wanted to throw yet another argument-in-favor onto the pile.

Eggless Muffins

2008-11-10T19:56:00.004-06:00

The other day I took Ethan with me on some early morning errands. As I hadn't time for my customary chai-and-toast breakfast, I decided to forgo the toast, poured my tea from a mug into a cup better suited for travel, added a splash of milk, and hit the road. Ethan asked from the back seat, "can I have muffins for breakfast?" I told him I was sorry, we didn't have any muffins, but I would see what I could do another day soon. He insisted he smelled muffins, and that they smelled SO GOOD and the smell was making him hungry for muffins.

And then I realized. He was smelling the spices in the chai.

After explaining that I truly wasn't hiding muffins in the van, I promised him I would make him muffins soon. And this morning I did.

Or, rather, I tried. The first batch was pumpkin. If I've ever failed so dismally at baking, I don't recall it. They were horrible. They didn't bake at all, just got hard on the outside, while the inside stayed raw. It was like eating thick raw muffin batter. Just ick.

No problem. I would just whip up another batch of muffins. NOT pumpkin, though.

Except that I used my very last egg in the pumpkin muffins.

So I turned to the internet, and asked the wise almighty Google for an eggless muffin recipe.

Google pointed me to a recipe for banana-nut muffins from a cooking blog called Saffron Hut (that sadly appears to have been abandoned). And I learned yet another something new; namely, that in some baking recipes, egg can be replaced with banana. Did you know that? I didn't know that.

This was a good thing, because I had several bananas on my counter that were already entirely too ripe for anything but baking.

Crossing my fingers, because by this point it was nearer lunchtime than breakfasttime and the kids were starving, I measured and mixed and baked and was richly rewarded with some of the best muffins I've ever made. Fluffy and light and flavorful. The kids each had three. Dylan was NOT impressed, and spit out three bites before I gave up. I loved them, and when Dave got home he loved them too. Four out of five is a pretty good majority, I'd say. We're going to be making these a lot.

Banana Nut Muffins

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup unsalted butter, melted
3/4 cup sugar
4 ripe bananas, well mashed
Small handful of walnuts, chopped

Preheat oven to 375F and line muffin tin with paper muffin cups.

Melt butter, remove from heat and whisk in sugar. Stir in bananas and set aside.

Whisk or sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Pour butter mixture into dry ingredients, stir just until combined. Gently stir in nuts, reserve about 1TBSP.

Fill muffin cups 3/4 full. Sprinkle reserved nuts on top. Bake 20 minutes or until golden brown.

Soooo good! I left out the nuts because I thought Dylan would be eating them too, and he just doesn't have the teeth for that yet. I added some spices - about 3/4 tsp cinnamon, 1/8 tsp each of ginger and nutmeg.

Hummus

2008-11-10T17:13:00.003-06:00

Hummus was a huge addiction I picked up while pregnant with Ethan. I went through what felt like gallons of it. Until yesterday, however, I had never tried making my own. Now that I know how easy it is, I will probably never buy it again.

This is very basic hummus. It is an excellent canvas for other spices and flavors, or delicious just as it is.

Try not to faint when you see the price of tahini. Just take a deep breath and think of how much hummus you will be making out of this one jar, and compare it to the price of each of those tiny little containers of ready-made, and you'll feel much better about it.

If you've never bought tahini paste, it doesn't look like what you might think a paste should look like. The kind I've found comes in a tall(ish) skinny glass jar. It's kind of a thin consistency, and when you see it, it will probably look separated, with the oil sitting on top. A good shake brings it back together again.

I got this recipe from Cooking Light.

Basic Hummus

2 (15.5 oz) cans chickpeas/garbanzo beans, rinsed and drained
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup tahini (sesame seed paste)
3 TB fresh lemon juice (I just used the jarred stuff)
2 TB extra-virgin olive oil
3/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper

Place beans and garlic in a food processor. Pulse until chopped. Add water and remaining ingredients, pulse until smooth, scraping down sides as needed.

Even after it was all mixed well, I just let the processor run for a couple minutes, just to try to make it extra super smooth.

Pita chips are traditional for dipping, but you can use whatever. When I was pregnant with Ethan, I used crackers, or veggies, especially carrots and red or yellow pepper strips.

Chocolate

2008-11-10T15:51:00.005-06:00

We've only been using this chocolate gravy recipe for a little over a year, but it's already a classic for us. I make it for birthday breakfasts, and sometimes if I haven't had time to put together a special dinner, we use it for Sabbath dinner as well. I don't think it keeps well, and it must be enjoyed hot. As it cools, it thickens. The kids are so paranoid about hot things, it's usually thickened to a pudding by the time they will eat it, but they don't care - it's chocolate, after all.

Chocolate Gravy

1 cup sugar
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup European style cocoa (I should know what this means, but I don't. I use Hershey's)
2 cups milk
1 teaspoon vanilla

In a medium saucepan, combine the dry ingredients and mix fully, until you are rid of as many flour/cocoa lumps as possible (it just occurred to me that sifting might be the way to go with this step). Gradually mix in the milk. Bring mixture to a boil, simmer one minute. Stir in vanilla and remove from heat.

Serve over biscuits, of course, but I'm thinking french toast might also be yummy.

And now for the hot cocoa. I found this because I was looking specifically for something I could use in the crockpot for Ethan's party. It was so good, I'm considering having a Christmas party just as an excuse to make it again. Someone at the party told me she isn't even normally a fan of hot cocoa, but she liked this so much she had two cups. This recipe makes enough for 20 people.

1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/4 cup cocoa powder
1 1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup hot water
1 gallon milk
1 teaspoon vanilla (was in a tizzy and forgot this)
1/4 tsp cinnamon (yep. forgot this too. thankfully nobody noticed or cared.)

In large saucepan, combine sugar, cocoa, and salt. Add hot water slowly, mixing well. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture boils. Boil and stir 2 minutes. Add milk.

(This is where I poured it into two waiting crockpots (we doubled the recipe), carried it to the park, set it on low, and that was that.)

Heat to serving temperature, stirring occasionally. Do not boil! Remove from heat, add vanilla and cinnamon, and whip with a whisk. Serve hot, with whipped cream or marshmallows.

Party!

2008-11-10T12:32:00.002-06:00

We had Ethan's birthday party over at the park yesterday, and it went really well. The weather was perfect. It wasn't cold, but it was just cool enough that the hot cocoa we had warming in a crockpot wasn't ridiculous, but worked quite well.

Ethan had a blast playing with all his friends. I think we were over there for nearly 5 hours total, almost until the sun went down. You just can't burn a kid out on a park - they'll always love it no matter how often you go or how long you stay.

I loved having so much time to visit with all our friends - what a luxury!

I learned a lot this weekend. I learned my stockpot won't hold two gallons of milk. I learned you can't write on a 9x13 cake with chocolate chips. I learned kids don't care what a cake looks like as long as it has copious amounts of buttercream on it. I learned that toddlers love playing with ice.

And when it was all over and everyone had gone home, I suddenly realized how exhausted I was, and I ended the evening crashed out and actually sitting down on the kitchen floor in an aching but contented puddle.

I have a LOT of recipes to post today (or over the next couple of days) as I get time: the chocolate gravy, the cocoa-for-a-crowd, the hummus (a big hit at the party, and SO easy), and for Jamie and little John, an eggless banana muffin we made this morning (that everyone loved but Dylan, ironically, but maybe John will).

Thank you to anyone who might be reading this who helped me with the party. From lending me an extra crockpot, to even something as simple as shutting the door behind me when I had my arms full of boxes and bags and crockpots and babies. Every little thing was a big thing, and I couldn't have pulled any of it off without help.

And happy birthday Ethan! I'm glad you loved your party.

Happy Birthday!

2008-11-04T08:33:00.002-06:00

Today is Ethan's birthday! He's 5 years old, and I can hardly believe it.

We're having our special birthday breakfast at the moment - homemade biscuits and chocolate gravy - and we might go have lunch with Dave. We'll have mini eclairs and open a few presents after dinner, and save the cake and major festivities for his party on Sunday.

He's a handful, that's for certain, but he is an amazing kid. Funny, rambunctious, brilliant, affectionate, and with an exuberance and zest for life the likes of which I've never seen. And have I mentioned he's brilliant?

Happy birthday, Ethan! I love you SO much!

Debut Performance

2008-10-27T13:12:00.005-05:00

The Pathfinders and Adventurers (think Boy/Girl Scouts and Cub Scouts/Brownies) presented the entire program at church this weekend. This was one of the bits that Ethan and Aidan were in.

PS - Try to ignore Dylan. He was a little antsy and fussy, and Dave was trying to hold him in his lap at the same time that he was taking this movie with his phone.

Where in the World is Mommy?

2008-10-17T13:25:00.003-05:00

I admit it. I've been lying low. I have a family situation in GA that's completely out of my control and I've been struggling with just sitting on my hands waiting for news, and haven't felt much like blogging, or, really, anything else.

And that's all I have to say about that. For now.

In other news, Dave got me a snazzy new laptop. The other one decided not to hold any sort of charge anymore, so I was chained to the kitchen bar. Finally we sold it, and I used the desktop PC in the office for a while, but that was tough because when I wanted to get on the computer, I was, well, in the office, and the kids usually weren't. That wasn't working out so well. And since Dylan is sharing the office as his room, I didn't have naptime to get on anymore either.

But now! Snazzy new laptop, and is it ever adorable. It's a Dell mini, and by mini they mean really mini. The keyboard is taking quite a bit of getting used to, but it's such a luxury to charge it up and take it to wherever the kids go. I can sit in the living room! I can go outside! To the park!

This week has been a busy one, with a birthday party at Little Gym Sunday, a trial run at the new kids' club at church on Tuesday (which they LOVED - so much so that we promptly wrote checks for dues and ordered uniforms), and company for dinner last night.

In between, I've been planning Ethan's birthday party. Since the night of last year's party, he's begged for this party to be Polar Express. Actually, no, he begged first for Shrek till I finally just said absolutely not, and then he switched to Polar Express and hasn't wavered but for about 15 minutes when he thought he wanted John Deere. I'm having to actually work at it this time, since there's not ready-made Polar Express birthday stuff out there. There is no kit to order from anyone. So it's a challenge and a lot of fun.

Anyway, that's what I've been up to. I hope to clear this writer's block soon.

Ethan's Thoughts on....

2008-10-14T11:19:00.002-05:00

...Camping: "Come on, Aidan. We're going camping! Come on. It will be fun. Camping is just like at Pump it Up!" Except, you know, without electricity or, um, bounce houses.

...Honey, after watching in slack-jawed horror the scene in Parent Trap where they rig the cabin with honey and string: "Oh, my. Honey is not for people. It is only for sandwiches."

Pavlov's Toddler

2008-10-05T18:05:00.003-05:00

I've discovered a new use for my immersion blender. I'd wanted one for a long time, intending to use it for soups, and my mother-in-law was kind enough to give me one for my birthday this year.

It came with a mixing cup which I promptly put in the "Stuff I Don't Use Much" cupboard, since I wasn't really planning on many smoothies or milkshakes.

And then one day a couple of weeks ago I got a brainstorm and started using it to blend up Dylan-sized portions of whatever the rest of us were eating for dinner. It's saving us a ton of money on toddler food, and he gets to try things he wouldn't ordinarily be able to handle, like chicken stir fry or beef stew. I must admit a blended dinner doesn't look all that appetizing to me, but Dylan has loved everything so far.

Tonight was beef stew. I ladled it into the cup, plugged in the blender and turned it on, and before I was even finished pureeing Dylan had charged into the kitchen and was at my feet, gazing up at me expectantly.

He already knows exactly what the sound of that blender means. It's his dinner bell.

Tired

2008-10-02T17:05:00.002-05:00

I've come to the conclusion that Ethan doesn't go through phases. It's all just one long, unending phase. Nothing is working, and it's so tempting to just give up. I don't suppose they have a military preschool anywhere. I think a healthy dose of Marine boot camp would do him a world of good. He doesn't need a Mommy, he needs a drill sergeant.

Ahem. Moving on.

But not to anything more pleasant. No, no. Not here. Not this week.

Dylan stumbled the other day with a lego in his mouth. Bled and bled and bled while I cuddled him. He was fine within about 5 minutes (and yes, I did get all the blood out of my shirt).

But then today? He was holding one of Ethan's bubble blowers. Oddly enough, the one he's holding in his picture down there under the "Dylan" post. He LOVES that thing. Loves carrying it everywhere, and loves chewing it. We have misgivings about this, yes, but normally he's very careful about not having it in his mouth while he's walking, so we let it slide. But this week, nothing is going right. So that means, of course, that today, instead of stumbling with it in his hand, he stumbled with it in his mouth. The end with all the ridges. I picked him up and checked for blood and didn't see any, and I held him while he sobbed, and he tipped back his head, and his poor little throat was scraped raw and bleeding.

Later on, he wouldn't eat lunch. Not knowing what else to do, I gave him a bottle.

Then he didn't take much of a nap. He woke up sobbing an hour into it and clung to me while I rocked him, refusing to be put down. Each time I thought he was ready to go play, he would start crying again, and turn back to me with his arms outstretched.

And I'm not sure what to make him for dinner. I might try buttered potatoes? I really don't know what to give someone with a throat injury, other than Tylenol.

And what if it gets infected? What am I looking for? And anyway how would I see it? It's not like I can make him gargle with Listerine.

Wouldn't you know, on Thursdays our pediatrician closes at noon. I've been trying to Google it, but evidently this hasn't happened to anyone else in the whole entire Internet. Either that or they're ashamed to admit they let their toddlers walk around with potentially injurious objects in their mouths.

I guess I'll be calling his Dr in the morning, if he still won't eat.

And she'll probably want me to bring him in.

I'm ready for this week to be over.

Another Interesting Waste of Time

2008-09-29T12:55:00.003-05:00

Coincidentally (considering the last post), a fun test turned up today on my daily blog reading. It's a hue test. The lower the score, the better you've done on the test. Zero is perfect.

The first time I got 20. The second time I got 16. And then my eyes started bleeding and my brain exploded because the colors all start to look the same after a minute or two. Turns out I was great on the first, second, and fourth sets, and fell apart on the third.

That doesn't mean it wasn't interesting and fun in its own way, though. Give it a try. Here's the link.

How did you do?

Life in Color

2008-09-20T12:26:00.003-05:00

Aidan and Dylan are a little under the weather. So Dave took Ethan to church, while I stayed here with the little ones. And this is what Aidan and I did - we colored.

It started with just a couple of crayons. Then a request for "more brown." And then, "more brown." And more. And more. And when we ran out of brown, he wanted red. And more and more. Then purple, blue, green, yellow, etc. until we had run out of everything in the crayon bucket that wasn't broken or unpeeled.

And while we were sorting, I was inhaling the scent, which hasn't changed since I was little. I always have loved the smell of crayons. And I was handing him the same colors that used to be my favorites all those years ago, and remembering, too, the ones that I always thought were hideous (raw sienna, I'm looking at YOU)!

I didn't ever care much for the straightforward colors. No red, blue, or brown for me. I loved sepia, mahogany, midnight blue, plum, goldenrod, apricot.

What were your favorites? Which one never left the box?

Brothers

2008-09-17T12:11:00.002-05:00

That day, the vacuuming got a little out of hand, but they had a good time anyway.

Ethan and Aidan at the sprayground in Tennessee.

Dylan

2008-09-17T11:51:00.007-05:00

(Some of these are so grainy. I've been playing with settings on the camera, learning what NOT to do. And then I have to fix the colors, and that just makes everything worse. In short, I apologize for the quality. I'm disappointed too.)

On the patio.

Trying to right himself after a tumble.

Lunch can be so exhausting.

Playing in the back yard.

Aidan

2008-09-17T11:38:00.006-05:00

Up a tree in Michigan

After eating Blue Moon ice cream in Michigan.

At the sprayground in Tennessee.

A study in green.

Ethan

2008-09-17T10:23:00.008-05:00

In Michigan, helping my grandfather mow.

In Tennessee, out on the deck on Grandma's swing.

In Tennessee, with Daddy on Grandma's swing.

In Tennessee at the "Dancing Waters" sprayground.

Home again, playing in the back yard.

Escape Artist

2008-09-08T17:33:00.002-05:00

Ethan is grounded today, having lost all his tickets for tantrums and sass. I left him in his room with explicit instructions to NOT leave his room, and if he wasn't going to take a nap, he should at least lie quietly for a bit.

I heard nothing but his "rainforest" sound machine setting and assumed he had fallen asleep, so I stayed in the office with Dylan - who didn't take much of a nap today - trying desperately to keep him quiet so the bigger boys could get some rest.

Eventually Dylan needed his diaper changed, so I took him into my bedroom to change him on the bed. I noticed nothing amiss until I needed to set Dylan down on the floor so I could get rid of the old diaper, and so I went to shut the doors to the bathroom...

And saw the brown sugar canister on the counter next to my sink.

Wait......huh? I didn't have sugar in the bathroom. At least, I don't think so. I'll admit I'm pretty loopy these days, but I'm pretty sure I'd remember that. I walked through the bathroom to the closet, and there was Ethan, crouching on the floor.

Here is the list of the things he did, knowing better than to do any of them.

1) Snuck out of his room while grounded.
2) Climbed over the hall gate.
3) Snuck into the pantry.
4) Took the sugar canister
5) Went into the master suite unaccompanied and without permission.
6) Climbed up on the counter.
7) Ate brown sugar directly from the canister...
8) ...using my contact lens case as a spoon.

I sent him to the couch while I regained composure (read: a straight face - I think it was the contact lens case that got me). I came out to the couch and he was looking at me warily, and lit into his defense as soon as I was standing in front of him. "Mommy! It was so good! Oh!! SOOOO good, Mommy!! I loved it so much. It was so good! So good that I had to pour it into my tummy."

He was sent back to his room to await my verdict and sentence, and I go now to deliver them. But I had to tell you all about it first.

Righteous Indignation

2008-09-08T12:02:00.004-05:00

Ethan is MAD. He's sitting here in the office with me, in a time out, and, after listening to me on the phone canceling a doctor's appointment, he decided that sounded good to him, and informed me he was canceling his time out.

Ethan: ...forever and ever. Until I go to heaven, I will NEVER sit in a chair.

Me (bemusedly): Are you going to sit in time out chairs in heaven?

Ethan: No! I will just sleep and get up, and sleep and get up, and then eat ice cream. After breakfast. [sensible chap] But NO chairs. NEVER EVER EVER. I'm CANCELING them.

Just now as I was typing, he told me that time out was just like being in JAIL. And just like being GROUNDED.

Poor Ethan.

Allergies

2008-09-04T11:55:00.005-05:00

So Dylan is apparently allergic to eggs.

Dave and I don't have any allergies and neither to the other two, so this was somewhat of a surprise. But we're rolling with it.

He had his first eggs-as-eggs yesterday at lunch. They were scrambled. He took a few bites but then they got cold and he wouldn't eat any more, choosing instead to fill up on biscuits (yes, we were having breakfast food for lunch).

Then I noticed he had spots around his mouth. Within a few minutes, they had turned into an ugly swollen rash which was spreading. He'd been eating with his hands, and since it was naptime, he was using those same hands to rub his eyes, which were now swollen and bloodshot.

My first thought was to break out the Benadryl (and since I remembered her dealing with this situation as well, a quick visit to and search of Jamie's blog confirmed this), but there wasn't information on the bottle about dosage for a child his age. So I called the pediatrician. I was told to give him a half teaspoon of Benadryl and bring him in.

Can I just interject here for a second? Not to knock my pediatrician. I LOVE her - she is awesome. But while it's comforting that she errs on the side of caution, and I'm sure there will at some point come a day when I will be grateful that she did, sometimes it's kind of a pain in the patookis. Like the time I loaded all three kids up at the spur of the moment because Dylan was coughing, and I find out....it's a cold. Or today, loading up all three kids at the spur of the moment only to get there and find out she just wants to know whether Dylan is wheezing. Because I don't know what that sounds like, or how to tell.*

Anyway, he's fine. Nothing disastrous happened. In fact, by the time I brought him the Benadryl, the rash had mostly already faded away. The Dr wants us to wait 6-8 months before we try again, but I'm a little spooked and I might just wait until he's two, to be on the safe side. Also no flu shot for him this year. I'm sure he'd be disappointed if he knew he was missing out on an extra shot.**

Anyway, nothing overtly (ova-ertly! HA!!) eggy for Dylan for the foreseeable future. She was somewhat vague on the issue of whether he can have baked things with eggs in them (cake, quick breads), but I'm afraid to call and clarify because she'd probably want to see him again!*/** Does anyone know? Do we proceed with caution? Or put ALL on hold until this time next year?

*Sarcasm.
**Again with the sarcasm.

Vignettes

2008-08-29T16:32:00.005-05:00

Aidan's new favorite word is "Mommy." He knew how to say it before, but would only do so when prompted. Now? It's all. the. time. ALL the time. Several things need to be brought to my attention over the course of a day. Example: at lunch. I hand him a bowl of mandarin oranges. I go in the other room.

Aidan: Mommy!....Mommy!!....Momm-eeeeee!!!....Momm-EEEEEEE!!!!!
Me (back in the dining room): Yes, Aidan?
Aidan: Hi!
Me: Hi!
Aidan (pointing): Bowl.

It was imperative that I know he has a bowl. A bowl that I gave to him. In case, you know, I forgot. Or something.

*~*~*~*~*~*~

Last night was girl's night. Halfway through dinner I remember that before I left, I neglected to have Ethan tell me some things. I briefly wonder how Dave is faring with that aspect of putting him to bed, but then devote full attention to attacking my sandwich, which is topped with unruly little fried onion strings that require a firm hand. Upon arriving back at home, I am informed by Dave that Ethan is hoping I can make a quick visit to his room to complete this bedtime ritual. I notice it is nearly 10:30 and decide against it.

Fast-fwd to this morning.

Ethan: Last night you were not here and I didn't tell you some things.
Me (sympathetically): No, I wasn't was I?
Ethan: No, and my heart was broken. (His face crumples)
Me: Awww. I'm sorry, Sugar. I guess I just forgot, huh?
Ethan (brightening): But now it's fixed. Because you are here.

*melt*

*~*~*~*~*~

I am in full-tilt organizational mode. I read about a system for near-total elimination of clutter that sounds almost too good to be true. If I can pull this off, I will no longer have to keep up with a ton of crap that we simply don't use in day-to-day life (or in some cases even year-to-year). I will only have to keep up with a small stack of index cards. I start tonight in the office, and by the end of the weekend, I hope to turn it into Dylan's new room.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Having said that, I must disclose that this manic phase is being fueled by a ridiculous level of caffeine. So who knows what will happen after the crash.

*~*~*~*~*~

I am very very thankful that the Diet Cokes were rationed carefully enough to last until grocery day (today, thank goodness), but it was a close call.

Keep in Mind, He Can't Yet Read

2008-08-28T15:26:00.004-05:00

Ethan is currently having Quiet Time while the younger two nap. He came out of his room to tell me, "Mommy? I just read all of James and the Giant Peach. I read the WHOLE thing. I didn't even want to stop. I read it until it was all done."

I'm a little mystified. Does it mean he flipped through, finding all the pictures? Or did he actually just turn page by page pretending to read each page? I will probably never know.

OH! JUST NOW!! See? Real-time, breaking news.

You'll like this...

He wanted his helicopter. But Quiet Time rule is, you take everything in that you want - you can't come out and get more toys. You have to stay in your room (for many, many reasons). I told him he could play with it when he got up. He threw a fit, threw himself against the tension-mount gate at the door to the hall....

...and it popped right out and he came spilling and sprawling out into the living room as if he were on the crest of a wave, washing onto a beach.

His face? Was priceless. And evidently I'm getting better and better at my straight/stern face. I ALMOST wasn't able to pull it off this time, but with superhuman effort, I managed.

I don't think he'll be doing that again anytime soon. Or maybe he will. Just for the thrill of it.

Telling the Truth

2008-08-27T13:07:00.004-05:00

Ethan has been mercilessly teasing his brothers this morning. Flaunting their favorite toys in their faces just to hear them cry (never mind that they hadn't given those toys a thought until Ethan flashed them in their faces). Taking things away (a classic, of course). And - though it seems minor to an adult - calling things by their wrong names just to make Aidan mad. For some reason, Aidan is extremely disturbed by this last one.

So there's been a lot of noise here today, and it's not doing much in the way of soothing this splitting headache that I have. When Aidan screams, you know it. The neighbors know it. Everyone in flipping China knows it, for crying out loud. That kid has got one heck of a diaphragm.

So anyway, as far as getting Ethan to move on and just play his own play and leave his brothers alone, nothing was working. Nothing. Which, by the way, is not unusual, but that's a whole other blog post.

So Aidan shrieked. Again. Blew out every single window in every single house in a 5-block radius. Shattered my very last nerve.

I called them to me. Asked Ethan what in Hades was going on this time to make his brother scream so.

And he shuffled his feet for a minute and then said, "I was picking up Aidan's feet so he would fall down."

And I closed my eyes and took a deep breath while I decided what to say and what to do about this latest transgression, and in just that split second I was tackled and two skinny little arms were wrapped fiercely around my neck. And he yelled gleefully into my ear, "I told the TRUTH!!!" And he pulled back and looked into my face and he was positively beaming. "I was going to lie, but I stopped! And I told the truth to you!!"

Which is a breakthrough, to be sure, but then what? A) Mete out praise for the truth-telling? B) Discipline for the physical harassment? He knocked me completely and totally for a loop. He was SO excited. He was SO proud. You could practically see the little halo glowing there above his head. And I'm sure my utter bafflement was just as apparent.

I hate making important decisions on the fly.

In the end, I chose C) Both A and B. And I don't know if I balanced them right.

Naptime

2008-08-20T15:35:00.003-05:00

Ethan's having difficulty adjusting to being home, I think. He's picking on his brothers a little, and he's got a leftover-from-vacation issue with sass and attitude. He doesn't usually take naps anymore, but he took a few while we were gone, just because of the screwy schedule we kept. He hasn't however, had one since we returned home, although it seems pretty clear to me it would benefit him immensely.

Today when I called him to me to ask him what the heck all that racket was I heard coming from his room (he was in there playing with Aidan), he came flying into the office, screaming, slammed into the futon, and threw a train across the room.

Wow. Naptime for you, mister.

So down he went. But he kept popping out of bed, opening the door to the hall, calling me in to talk to him about anything and everything (Mommy? Did I just hear a truck outside? I think I did!). Anything so that he wouldn't have to actually let himself fall asleep.

After giving strict orders that he was NOT to leave his bed again under ANY circumstances, that anything he had to tell me or ask me could wait until I came to get him, I left the room. I gave him a few minutes, and then went back into the hall to listen at his door.

And under his breath, very gently, he was singing to himself.

"Who Let the Dogs Out?!"

Fun Time-Waster

2008-08-20T14:27:00.002-05:00

Guess the accent.

I'm a little rusty - my score was only 25. How did you do?

Always Look on the Bright Side of Life

2008-08-20T12:31:00.008-05:00

I am ridiculously, deliriously happy about this. Why?

A) It didn't happen on the carpet.
B) No one got glass in their feet.
C) It didn't happen on the carpet.
D) I caught them before anyone tracked it anywhere.
E) It didn't happen on the carpet.

Jack of all Trades

2008-08-20T11:27:00.002-05:00

Ethan and Aidan were playing in Ethan's room. Ethan came out to show me how he had listened to Aidan's heart with a pretend stethoscope.

"Very good. Could you hear it?"

"No, but Aidan probably could."

"Are you going to be a doctor someday?"

"Well, yes, probably."

"Good for you."

"...And a plumber. And I will do yard work probably."

Counting My Chickens Before They Hatch

2008-08-20T10:50:00.003-05:00

This morning, merely Day Two of Potty Training 2008, Aidan asked to use the potty.

He was sitting in his chair for breakfast and started to squirm and whine and said, "Go!!" (I don't know if you all know - Aidan is still not yet very verbal. He's only got a few words. So "I need to go pee pee!" is not what I'm looking for. A simple "GO!" will suffice at this point.)

Pessimist that I am, I thought it meant he had already gone and was already wet, but I tried to remain cheerful as I rushed over. "Do you need to go? Go potty? Let's go! (BIG SMILE)" I lifted off his tray and hurried him in there, and he was DRY! And he went on the potty! I was shocked.

My head, as always, is a relentless cynic, but my heart can't help but feel optimistic.

Potty Training Redux

2008-08-20T09:46:00.003-05:00

Now it's Aidan's turn. We started yesterday morning, taking a BIG breath, and with fingers firmly crossed, having managed to unearth only two pairs of Thomas the Tank Engine underwear that fit him.

He stayed dry all morning (through no fault of his own), and only had one accident while eating dinner.

So last night right after dinner we went to Target for backup supplies. Given a choice between a pack of Thomas underwear, and a pack of Pooh and Tigger, he enthusiastically and without hesitation chose "Pooh-Bah!!!"

He was very, very, VERY proud of himself when he managed to pee in the potty, and very excited to be included in the Big Boy Club. I'm hoping this time might go a little easier than it did with Ethan, when, if you remember, we trained for a little while, seemingly perfected the technique, and then went on vacation and had to start all over again, the second time taking nearly four months (GAH!!!).

When I'm tearing my hair out after four months, please don't remind me I said, "easier."

Anyway, here we are on day two.

Wish us luck!!

And We're Back!

2008-08-18T13:40:00.002-05:00

Y'all. I am wore OUT!

We had so much fun in Michigan and in Tennessee that I can't possibly list everything that we did. It was just wonderful to see all of our family again (and meet my sweet little baby niece Madison), but I wish we'd had more time to spend with everyone. Ethan, too. He didn't want to come home to Texas. He wanted to stay in Tennessee for "40,000 days until it's time to go to Michigan again."

We bought two PeaPod beds for Ethan and Aidan, and they worked wonderfully. It felt positively luxurious to not have to worry about where the boys would sleep. Before, it was THE major stressor about traveling - where would they sleep, and would they stay put? This totally removed that worry. The kids LOVED them. It was so great.

As far as the actual driving part goes, here is what I learned about traveling with the 4-and-under set:

You wouldn't think it, because he's so easy-going in everyday life, but Dylan does not travel well. He gets FED UP around mile 5 and continues FED UP for the remaining 800 miles. He will also drop all three pacis into a black hole from which they cannot be retrieved, with the added bonus of doing it before we even make it through Alabama. He will then be even more FED UP with you offering him alternatives. I didn't know it until this trip, but Dylan's got quite a temper. And he can scream with the best of them. It was an eye-opening glimpse at a facet of my youngest that I had not yet seen.

Aidan sits like me, with one foot tucked under his other leg. Except that I have the wherewithal to think, "Hey...my foot feels a little tingly. Perhaps I should stretch a bit." Aidan, sadly, does not, and refuses to sit normally, yet is highly disturbed by the sleeping-foot sensation, and has to let us know. At top volume. Because we can't possibly hear him when we're all crammed into such a small enclosed space as the van.

In his angst he will vehemently turn down book after book after book, his AquaDoodle, and the MagnaDoodle. He will accept a kinesthetic learning board but then get frustrated because the buttons (that are supposed to run along three different tracks) don't pull off.

Finally, out of desperation, I offer him an empty cereal bar box and a handful of Duplos and that keeps him busy for nearly an hour, putting all the blocks into the box, and then dumping them out, and putting them back, and dumping them out, etc., etc.

And Ethan, my most outgoing, wild, hyper, active, on-the-go child.....Ethan travels beautifully. He looks at books, he loves both of the Doodles (Aqua and Magna), he builds with his blocks, drives his little cars, and even said to me, "I LOVE riding in the van! Can we ride in the van forever??" No, seriously. He really did actually say that. And last night, a little way into Louisiana, I padded the shoulder part of his seatbelt in his quilt, and he leaned over and went right to sleep. Before the other two. And kept sleeping even after the other two woke up.

So we made it home safely and we're working on resting up and slowly unpacking. I am patting myself on the back for freezing some things before we left, so there will be no trip to the store and no need to cook dinner this week.

Oh, and I have GOT to show you pictures of the garden. Two weeks made a huge difference. Literally huge. I think the zucchini wants to actually eat our house.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

2008-08-01T08:19:00.000-05:00

Actually, no, that's not quite right. We're leaving in our mini-van. Tomorrow morning. And we'll be gone for two weeks and a bit.

First we're taking two days to drive to Michigan, and after a week there, we're driving down to Tennessee for another week. Then home again, home again, jiggity jog.

I will probably still have minimal access to computers in some form, so if anything big happens, you'll know about it. Otherwise, I'll just tell you all about it when I get back.

This is the first time traveling with all three kids. Wish us luck!

Now I must get back to packing.

Dylan

2008-07-31T07:27:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow is Dylan's birthday. A whole entire year old. A lot has changed in a year. He's less a baby and more a little boy. He can shake his head "no" (hooray.), he is eating more and more regular food, he can dig around in the toy box to find a toy he's looking for (and sometimes tumbles in) and he can walk a bit, but chooses not to. He's no longer content to just veg out on your lap. He's no longer easily held and cuddled. His motto - as was his brothers' - is "Anywhere But Here." But he's definitely still a mama's boy; the only one of the three who is. Sometimes it's a delight. Other times, like when he's refusing to leave the kitchen, choosing instead to stand there pulling my pants down when I'm trying to make dinner - not so much.

In the first few days of his life, I didn't know whether to let myself imagine any of this at all.

Right after he was born,when I finally was able to try to nurse him, he couldn't. He would try, but then unlatch, and he was making funny sounds. The nurse took him and listened carefully with her stethoscope, but when I asked her, "is everything OK?" she wouldn't answer me.

She took him to the Dr., and Dave went with him, and I was in my room alone. I still wasn't too worried. He wasn't premature. I had no reason to think anything was happening.

Another nurse came in and said exactly this, and only this: "We're going to send him to Dallas. Your doctor will come talk to you." And then she walked out.

And I didn't start crying, really, well, maybe just a little, but mostly I just went into full-blown anxiety attack hyperventilation. I worked very hard to stop, though, because I didn't want reams and reams of paper from my monitor hookups recording for posterity my emotional breakdown.

I had just gathered control of myself when Dave and our pediatrician walked in. She explained what was going on - that he was suffocating because his lungs were sticking together, basically. He could breathe out, but then he couldn't breathe in again. (I don't know whether she told me this at the time, or later on when I was better able to handle it, but there was a time that his stats dropped dramatically and he turned a dangerous shade of blue. She thought they were losing him.)

At some point I called my mother and told her to come and bring the boys sooner rather than later because we didn't know how long he'd be here before they took him away to Dallas. So they came but didn't stay long; the kids got restless and needed lunch and naps.

Finally a few hours later the team from Dallas came and got him all hooked up in his travel chamber and they brought him to me to see him before he left, and they gave me a Polaroid they had taken of him. He looked so heartbreakingly tiny in that chamber, but he was already proving himself a fighter - he was trying desperately to raise up on his arms (they later told me he didn't fall asleep like most babies when they get out on the road - apparently Dylan did push-ups all the way to Dallas).

I'd been trying to start keeping down a little food (I'm always very very nauseous after my deliveries), and I think I got sick twice while they were in there, and one of the two ladies on the team told me she'd never seen anyone get sick so gracefully! That was a moment of levity at least.

So they took him away and I felt very lonely. It felt very strange to have had a baby and not have that baby with you.

Our pediatrician came in again and we prayed together.

One of the nurse's assistants came in and told me she had prayed over my baby.

I was let out of the hospital probably way too early - I was in a lot of pain. We drove to Dallas every day, and Dave would drop me off at the door so I could try to get a wheelchair while he parked. I felt like I had to defend myself, since I apparently didn't look like I needed a wheelchair - the guest desk was invariably skeptical. It was tempting to lift up my shirt and show them the incision when I said, "I'm Post-Op." I wanted to tell them, "It was all I could do to make it in the door. There's no way I can walk this labyrinth of a hospital all the way to the NICU."

He was mostly sedated the first time or two we visited. I remember the day we were finally able to hold him, he started fussing a little so I picked him up and talked to him and he stopped crying. Until then I didn't know if it was true that a baby would calm at their mother's voice. It never worked for my other two. But with Dylan it was like magic.

Anyway, to cut a long story short (too late!!!) he healed, he came home, he grew and grew and GREW.

And he's 1.

Happy birthday, baby.

The Snazziest Leaf Blower EVER

2008-07-29T14:55:00.001-05:00

Last night I bought Ethan a pack of glow sticks with connectors.

This morning I gave him three sticks and three connectors. He went into his dark closet, hooked them all together, and is now carrying around his new "leaf blower."

A Plug for Kerrie

2008-07-28T13:41:00.004-05:00

I don't have any girls, it's true, but I do know adorable girlie things when I see them.

Kerrie just opened up shop, selling (mostly) hair clips. If you have girls, head over to her new site and pick up a clip or two or several. She is wildly talented, and if I had girls of my own I would buy one of everything she's got.

PS - She also wields a fierce needle, if you're in the market for a new outfit for your little one, boy or girl.

Gardening

2008-07-23T16:10:00.004-05:00

This year for my birthday Dave ordered me a frame for a raised bed garden. What I've been thinking is that I'd like to try the Square Foot Gardening method. We put it together and filled it around the first part of July.

We actually did put together the "Mel's Mix" that the website recommends, after searching high and low for something called vermiculite. It's easy to find in tiny bags at Home Depot and Lowes, but not in really huge bags to use as a major part of your soil component. Anyway, so we dumped in tons and tons of compost and peat moss and, yes, vermiculite, and mixed it all together with a rake. Which I must say was actually quite fun - sort of like mixing a gigantic cake. And then we put just a few things in it, since it was late in the season. The thought was to get an idea of what we would like next year.

So we had a cherry tomato, three regular tomato plants of all different varieties (to see what worked best), two cucumber plants, a zucchini, a bell pepper plant, and yet another basil to add to the ever-growing basil family (we should just go ahead and plant our entire lawn with basil).

Yesterday when I went out to inspect everything, I notice the leaves on one of the cucumbers were chewed to bits, and then I saw a little yellow beetle with black stripes. I picked off one of the dead leaves and squished him with it, and then I saw another. And another. And then another.

I killed all of them I could find, and then came inside to Google these stupid beetles, and learned they were - wait for it - ....cucumber beetles. Imagine. They are drawn to plants that are infected with some sort of cucumber bacteria and will die anyway, and cannot be salvaged.

So I went back out to pull out the plant, hoping the second cucumber was not also infected and would not also soon be overrun with these beetles. We shall see.

Now for the tomatoes.

Aidan went out with me last night to look at the plants. I told him what everything was, showed him the blossoms on (nearly) everything, and showed him a wee green tomato, and a green cherry tomato which should have been red a long time ago, according to my impatient calculations. I want that tomato. I've had my eye on it for days and days and days. He oohed and aahed and wowed over it all, and I made certain to tell him, "These are tomatoes. We eat them when they are red. RED. Not green. Do NOT pick Mommy's tomatoes. We will eat them when they are red. RED. Only red. No green. No." I don't see how I could have been more clear than that, and I figured he would understand, since he's been swooping down on the strawberry plant every time there's anything even remotely red on it. Which means Aidan has gotten ALL the strawberries this year; it only puts out one at a time, and he's assiduous about keeping it picked clean. But. He waits until they are red. RED. Not green.

So we came in and went about our business and I'm sitting on the couch with Ethan, and Aidan comes out with his cheeks all chipmunk-like. Still - still! - I didn't suspect anything. Which means you all are one-up on me, because I know every one of you can totally see what's coming.

"Aidan, what do you have in your mouth?"

He looked at me guiltily, but didn't disclose the contents of his mouth.

"Come here, Aidan."

Reluctantly, he sidled closer. I pinched his cheeks together with my thumb and forefinger. He refused to part his lips. I applied a little more pressure. Nothing. I wiggled another finger in between those stubborn lips, and out shot several bright green seeds, amidst lime green saliva.

Then and only then, did I suspect what he had done. I went to the window and looked out. Sure enough, the cherry tomato plant was bare. I was furious.

But there was no time to be furious. Instead of popping it in his mouth while he was outside with me, he'd picked it and brought it in the house, and ate it in the kitchen, leaving the star-shaped leaf from the top, on the floor. Where Dylan thought it looked interesting. And so he put it in his mouth. And choked on it. He scared himself and me nearly to death. I fished out the tomato stem, but he was still choking. I fished out a couple more green things, and then he was fine, but cried for a while after that.

So. The garden. I'm not sure what the rest of the season holds. I'm hoping between Aidan and the bugs, we will get something out of it. I'm trying to be optimistic.

Obsession

2008-07-22T13:59:00.003-05:00

One day, many moons ago, while we were at a local playground, the city (or county?) tested the tornado sirens. That night, Ethan was spooked. He was afraid they would go off again. In his room.

But once he learned about them, he was hooked. And it's a passion that has only intensified.

We must point out every siren that we pass as we drive anywhere at all. Along our most-trodden paths, he knows the locations by heart.

He builds sirens out of Legos. He builds sirens out of empty PlayDoh cups. And then? He tests them. It's like having a tornado siren right in your very own home. How convenient.

And then this morning, we watched half an hour's worth of YouTube videos of various tornado and emergency sirens being tested. Who knew there were so many different kinds. The speaker comes in so many different shapes. The sounds are all different.

So now he's greatly expanded his siren repertoire. And he's very, very, very good at making siren noises.

And while I'm (mostly) getting very, very, very good at the whole Patience thing, and also the Tuning Out thing, I'm hoping he moves on to something else soon. Something a little less loud. Even something along the lines of Trappist monasticism, perhaps.

My Tummy Thanks You

2008-07-21T20:21:00.003-05:00

Some of our dearest friends from church stopped by this evening to bring us some peaches.

I was excited, of course. I LOVE peaches, and it's been years since I've had a truly wonderful peach. Each week I gaze longingly at the peaches stacked up at the store, and every now and then pick one up and give it a hopeful sniff, but they never smell like anything at all. They are small and hard and very likely (judging by lack of scent) dry and tasteless, and so I pass.

But these - oh, my. She brought them in a Walmart bag, heavy and stained with juice. She opened it, "Smell these." I did, and then I couldn't stop. Fragrant doesn't even begin to describe it. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, standing in my living room with my head stuck inside a Walmart bag, eyes closed, inhaling as deeply as I possibly could, but it was incredible. You could taste them without even having to put them in your mouth. It was like sunshine and suede - vibrant, rich. I was enraptured. "Oh!! *SNIFF* Oh, they smell SO GOOD!! *SNIFF* Oh, I haven't had peaches like these in YEARS!! *DOUBLE SNIFF* Ah, this is how it should be. Oh, thank you!!!"

She stayed for a while, read a book with Ethan, and listened to Aidan tell her about the sky, that the oven was "veevee, veevee, veevee hot!", recite the end of his ABCs ("vee! babalu! sesh! why! zeeeeee!"), while her niece hung out with Dylan on her lap.

After they had gone and we had eaten dinner, I cut a peach for each of us and we gobbled them up. They were perfectly ripe - not even a single minute too ripe or not ripe enough. Soft and sweet and juicy, they melted on the tongue. I quickly made the rest into a cobbler, and whipped up some cream, and Dave and I just finished a little post-kids'-bedtime snack.

There is nothing in the world like these peaches, and I thank these precious friends from the bottom of my heart. And my tummy thanks them too.

If You Have to Ask...

2008-07-21T08:13:00.002-05:00

Ethan (pointing to a canister of Mexican chocolate milk powder): Mommy! Look!
Me: Oh, yes, I see.
Ethan: I want this.
Me: Not today.
Ethan: Please? I want it!
Me: No, we're not getting that today, sweetie.
Ethan: Will we get it next time?
Me: Probably not.
Ethan: Why not?
Me: We don't need it.
Ethan: But I really love it! It's SO GOOD!
*pause*
Ethan: What is it?

Baked Ziti

2008-07-20T21:02:00.004-05:00

This is a very easy - and very cheap - recipe that we've been using for nearly a year now. It's also pretty kid-friendly. Ethan tolerates it as well as he tolerates anything, and Aidan....well, it turns Aidan into the heartiest of trenchermen. Aidan eats this until he gets so full he literally can't hold another bite. He then walks around for half an hour holding his last bite in his mouth until he can make room enough to swallow it.

Baked Ziti

8oz ridged penne
1 cup part skim ricotta
1 egg
1/4 cup + 1/2 cup shredded parmesan
1/2 cup + 1/2 cup mozzarella (I use closer to a cup for the second quantity - I like my casseroles extra cheesy and bubbly on top)
1 jar (24-26 oz) pasta sauce

Preheat oven to 450.

Boil penne in salted water until al dente. Drain.

While penne boils, mix ricotta, egg, 1/4c parmesan, and 1/2 cup mozzarella in small bowl.

Mix 1/2c parmesan and 1/2c (or 1c) mozzarella in another small bowl.

Pour half of pasta sauce in bottom of shallow 2-qt casserole dish. Dump penne on top of sauce, spread ricotta mixture over penne, and pour remaining pasta sauce over all. Top with 1/2c parmesan and 1/2 - 1c mozzarella.

Place casserole dish on rimmed baking sheet and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until bubbly and the cheese is a gorgeous brown.

UPDATE: I'm a DORK. I say it's baked ziti, and then put penne in the recipe. Honestly, you can probably use whatever, as long as it's ridged and some sort of smallish, tube-shaped pasta product.

Just....Wow.

2008-07-18T14:05:00.003-05:00

One clever eBay-er just paid $650 for an empty box.

OK, so maybe not totally empty. It does, after all, include the instructions for what was in the box.

It pays to read auctions carefully.

Also I'm guessing that the seller's 100% rating won't be impeccable much longer. I can't imagine the dupe-ee will be leaving positive feedback for their humiliation.

(Call me callous, but I still think it's funny.)

(Thanks, Dave, for the link.)

Babies

2008-07-11T14:27:00.004-05:00

We have baby swallows! I've seen as many as four, but the fourth one is pretty shy - typically it's only the three that show themselves.

The first day I noticed them, last Saturday evening.

Feeding time. I was surprised she doesn't ever seem to mind that I'm there - just goes on about her business. Dave says, "well, what else is she supposed to do?" I don't know - try to chase me away? Wait till I'm gone? I don't know.

Hungry baby. It was Sunday that they started to sometimes get demanding.

Wednesday. They've gotten much bigger. Still not out of the nest, even today. But in the evenings when I go check on them at dusk, after feeding time, the babies and the mother are huddled in the nest, and the dad is on the other side of the door, and they are muttering and murmuring to each other. It soothes me.

And now for something completely different, a rather intense sunset from a couple of weeks ago. I was disappointed with how these looked on the screen of the camera, but when I pulled them off and saw them on the computer it was better.

Dylan

2008-07-11T14:20:00.003-05:00

I didn't take many of Dylan, but I have to say this is probably one of my favorites of him so far. I love the look of his mouth here, and that he looks like he's thinking really deep thoughts, and even the smudges of lasagna on his nose.

Aidan

2008-07-11T14:09:00.004-05:00

I really like taking pictures of Aidan in either b&w or sepia. He's not as high-energy as Ethan, and so he seems to take a lot more time to slow down and think and reflect. Taking away all the distraction of the vivid color often lets you really see him.

Making sure the joints on the garden are snug.

Taking advantage of the wagon while he's got the chance (Ethan is possessive of his "combine").

"SKY!"

A few moments of quiet reflection.

Watching Cars with his brother (Aidan's in grey - Ethan's in red. And I wonder why people ask if they're twins!).

Pictures of Ethan

2008-07-11T13:40:00.007-05:00

It's picture time again! I haven't put any on here in ages, it feels like.

(Claire, you'll have to tell me how you do so many. I'm so jealous - Blogger only lets me do 5 at a time.)

Ethan wearing a hand-fashioned "tie."

He found a bug. Hooray.

This is his harvester/combine. He races to and fro from one side of the yard to the other, pushing this wagon backwards. When I tell him it's time for supper, he says, "hang on, Mommy. I have to finish the harvest."

He's generally a happy kid.

Brotherly love.

Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow

2008-07-08T13:50:00.003-05:00

Ethan is grounded. We're working with John Rosemond's ticket system in order to correct a sassy mouth that has gotten ridiculously out of control.

So he's in his room, and he's channeling Paul and Silas, and singing the Doxology. I'm tempted go and fling wide his door, staying against the wall where he can't see me, and see if he thinks an angel has come to set him free.

Oh, wait, he's switched gears now. Somehow I very much doubt the incarcerated Paul and Silas sang anything by Dream Academy.

Haggling

2008-07-03T09:47:00.003-05:00

I'm not sure what sort of genes Ethan's got to make him like this - he's got some sort of bargaining culture in his ancestry, I'm sure of it. Because he will never just accept any option I give him until he's exhausted all other options. And his exhausting is exhausting.

For instance, here's an exchange from breakfast.

Ethan: All done! I want something else, please.
Me: All right. Would you like another biscuit? A banana?
Ethan: No. What else do we have?
Me: Well, you could have some yogurt.
Ethan: (gets down from his chair) I will look and see what I can have.
Me: You will not. You can have a banana, yogurt, or you can have another biscuit.
Ethan: What kind of yogurt? Peach?
Me: No, we only have blueberry.
Ethan: Do we have any strawberry?
Me: No. We only have blueberry.
Ethan: I will go look and see.
Me: No, you will not. Do you want a banana, yogurt, or another biscuit?
Ethan: Well, you should look and see if we have another strawberry yogurt.
Me: (screaming inside)
Ethan: If we don't, I guess I will have a biscuit.
Me: Alrighty, then. Biscuit it is.

You see? I give him a few options, to try to teach him to make choices, but he seems to always want something that's not on the board. I know I have to stay firm and not let him wear me down, because I know there is nothing wrong with the options I gave him - they are, indeed, all things that he likes. But it is sooooo tempting to just throw up my hands and say, "all right, fine, whatever, eat what you like."

It's as if he thinks I'm hiding something from him. Like if he asks long enough, he'll find that option D is... ice cream! Or cake! Or cookies! Or all three! If he just keeps at it long enough!

My Kids Are Weird

2008-07-02T10:10:00.002-05:00

Last night as Dave put Aidan to bed, Ethan and I watched part of an infomercial on a weed trimmer/edger. He was mesmerized, and we actually rewound it and watched the last few minutes twice more.

And so? When it came on again this morning? I recorded it.

And now my oldest son is currently ensconced on the couch happily watching an infomercial for the WorxGT.

Lovely Surprise

2008-06-30T14:17:00.003-05:00

Two kids from church - brothers - have announced their availability this summer for odd jobs. Dave, always willing to reward the entrepreneurial spirit, hired them to weed the beds in the front yard.

They showed up this morning, and worked hard for about 3 hours. They certainly earned their money! It was hot, miserable work. It helped a little that it had rained to soften up the ground, but it was still rough going.

As they worked, I spent time sitting in the driveway with their mom, visiting. In the middle of weeding around the baby pecan tree, one of the boys came to his mom to tell her he was having trouble with a weed. It was too thorny, he said. He couldn't get a good grip. He called it a blackberry, and my ears perked up and I went to inspect it (even though her insinuation was that anything with thorns was a "blackberry" to him). Sure enough, it was the very beginning of a blackberry vine, growing wild alongside one of the daffodils.

"Hang on - I'll keep that!" I said. I fetched my trowel, and we carefully dug out the root, and took it into the back yard, where we cleared a space for it along the fence and gently tucked it back in.

Now. We shall see what happens. Hopefully here in a couple years or so we'll have fat juicy wild blackberries. I have such fond memories of picking wild berries in Georgia, and I hope my kids get the same chance, even if they only have to go as far as the fence to get them.

PS - It died. You'd think wild plants - weeds, essentially - would be tougher.

Sometimes You Just Can't Catch a Break

2008-06-23T20:17:00.003-05:00

Tonight I had to rescue Aidan from a diaper full of fire ants.

Full.

Of fire ants.

Fire. Ants.

They were vicious. So vicious were they, that when all were finally swept away, many, if not most, of the bites were bleeding. His back, his rear, and the back of his legs are covered in welts. He wouldn't even sit down in the baking soda bath I prepared for him. He did, however, let me dunk a washcloth and hold it to the worst spots. Then I dosed him with Benadryl and slathered him in aloe. I don't know if the aloe will help or not, but it's all we had.

I'm praying hard that we don't have a repeat of what happened when Ethan had his own run-in with fire ants (almost three years ago now). I don't know if it was coincidence, or if he was allergic, but Ethan ran a very high fever and was sicker than I had ever seen him for two or three days following his bites.

After I got Aidan dressed for bed, I sallied forth and avenged my son, dousing their village with a bottle of Clorox Clean-Up, which is about as close as I could get to burning and pillaging. And Dave is stopping after work tomorrow for some granules.

Now, I know things are supposed to happen in threes, but I think Aidan's two incidents are more than sufficient, thankyouverymuch.

Pool

2008-06-23T14:59:00.004-05:00

So about once a week or so we've been spending the afternoon at the pool of some friends of ours.

Dylan loves it. He sits in a floater with a little shelf around it, and he'll stay in there as long as we want him to. He'll take his bottle in there and even eat in there.

Ethan has slowly warmed up to the idea of putting on a Body Glove wet suit looking thing and hopping around in the shallow end where he can touch the bottom and not have to actually float or swim.

Aidan, however, has for the most part been violently opposed to anything having to do with swimming.

The first time we went, Dave went with us. Aidan was skeptical of this vast body of water - so much bigger than his bathtub! - but I thought perhaps if Dave could hold him, he might get used to the idea. But by the time I put his Nemo arm floaties on, seated him in a floatie ring, and handed him off to Dave, he was in hysterics. We quickly returned him to terra firma and after standing next to another friend who was sunning herself in a lounger, and staring moodily at the pool for a few minutes, he left her side to happily potter about the yard for the rest of our visit.

The next week, our hostess invited us back while Dave was at work. When Aidan realized where we were, it was all I could do to get him through the gate into the yard. He finally calmed down enough to listen to me telling him that, "I PROMISE you don't have to go in the pool. No pool," and he spent most of the day in the house with our hostess's mom, helping (?) her with some housework.

Yesterday we were invited back yet again, as part of a larger group from church, and Dave came along as well. Later that afternoon I was surprised to see Aidan standing near the pool, since he had been so averse to even coming onto the concrete surrounding it. Not long after that, I looked up to see Dave carrying a perfectly happy and content, yet still fully clothed, Aidan into the water. He dipped his toes in, and let him lean down and splash with his hand. Next thing I knew, he had him stripped to his diaper and bouncing on the top step. I couldn't believe how rapidly he had progressed. Overjoyed, I quickly changed him into a swim diaper and then a floatie suit offered by our host, gathered him into my arms, and carried him into the pool with me.

He LOVED it. It was wonderful. He was so very brave, and I was so proud.

Finally, he'd had his fill. He was bored and wanted out, and as my arms were getting tired I was more than happy to oblige.

The rest of the afternoon was blissfully uneventful and relaxing. As it got later, we all started getting out and drying off, everyone taking turns going in and out of the house changing back in to our regular clothes. I had just come out, and was peeling off Ethan's floatie suit, my back to the pool, when somehow (this part is blurry - I can't remember who was shouting what) I realized that Aidan had fallen in.

Yes. Aidan, poor little phobic Aidan, had fallen into the pool that he had JUST learned to love.

I was later told he was leaning over, trying to fill and drink water from a little toy bucket. At the time, however, I knew nothing of how it happened, and my mind had erased everything to make room for the all-encompassing, overwhelming fact that my baby was in the pool. It even erased the fact that he had on a floatie suit. Once I had my brain back, I remembered this fact and realized my level of panic could probably have been dialed back a notch or two. But at that one sickening moment all I knew was, A) Aidan fell in!, and B) I don't see him (was a floating lounger in the way? I have no idea. I just remember I couldn't see him)!

I raced for the water, and I have a vague recollection of yelling, over and over, "OH, NO! OH, NO!! OH, NO!" Another mom beat me there, and, fully clothed, jumped right in and swam to him. I got to the edge just as she reached him, and she handed him to me, and I took him to a patio chair and we sat down. Both of us were crying.

Poor Aidan still doesn't quite put any sentences together, so the most dramatic account he could cobble together was to sob, "Pool!" and then point to his hair (it got wet!) and to his open mouth (he got water in his mouth!).

I cried with him a while, and finally we both calmed down. Actually he was a bit more resilient than I, I think. I stayed shaken for quite a long while after that, and I couldn't stop thanking the other mom for jumping in to rescue him.

My shirt and my jeans were soaked, yet there was suddenly talk being bandied about of going to dinner. Our hostess (and WHAT a hostess!) lent me a pair of pants and a shirt to wear and off we went, the boys still in their swim trunks and damp t-shirts and Dylan in a diaper and a tank top.

And that was that and all's well that ends well. He's told us the dramatic story a few times since then ("Pool!" (hair! mouth!)), but he's fine.

Poor, poor little man. I wonder what he'll do next time we go back to the pool. Will we be back at square one, or will he realize it was just an accident and the pool can still be fun?

Ethan: Fashion Consultant

2008-06-20T20:38:00.003-05:00

Ethan: Mommy, take off that WalMart shirt [an old t-shirt I wore to WalMart tonight] and put on your other shirt.

Me: My other shirt?

Ethan: Yes. The pink one. With the flowers on it.

Me: How come?

Ethan: Because it's a sweet shirt. And it's cute.

And I complied. Who am I to argue with logic like that?

As Good As Gone

2008-06-20T15:23:00.008-05:00

White Lily flour, beloved jewel of southern bakers, is moving north.

When I first heard rumblings of the news that White Lily had been bought by J.M. Smucker Co., I tried not to concern myself unduly. I thought surely they would respect such a staple of southern baking, and not try to move it, or - have mercy - change the formula.

Then I learned they were closing the factory in Knoxville. The factory that had been producing this flour for 125 years.

OK, but surely they would NEVER - Heaven forbid - change the formula. Surely to goodness they would have enough sense to leave a good thing alone. If it ain't broke, don't fix it. Right? Right (she asked in rising panic)?!

Oh, no, my friends. No, I'm heartbroken to report they did not. They are currently testing a new formula for White Lily.

Maribeth Badertscher, a spokeswoman for the company, said the new White Lily was the result of thorough product testing and promised that customers “won’t know the difference.” But in a blind test for The New York Times, two bakers could immediately tell the old from the new.

Ha ha, you see? We CAN tell. We most certainly can tell. And I have to ask, why on earth would you want to change to a new formula if it's (supposedly) indistinguishable from the old formula? Maybe it's just me but that seems such a waste.

Told of the results, Ms. Badertscher said, “White Lily flour continues to be made from the same quality ingredients and processes as when it was produced in Tennessee.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, it's not. You see, then it wouldn't be, well, new, would it?

I have used White Lily flour ever since I was old enough to know what was what. When I moved from Georgia to Connecticut I looked for it on the shelves to no avail (I take that back. I did find a 2-lb bag of it. At Williams-Sonoma. For $5). I tested brand after brand of flour before settling (faute de mieux) on Gold Medal. Luckily, I have a saint of a mother who would send care packages of up to 25 pounds of it at a time, and a wonderful mother-in-law who would pack up to 25 pounds of it in her luggage as well on trips north, both of which would be depleted embarrassingly quickly in a flurry of frenetic baking, until, on the last 5-pound bag, I would carefully ration it, afraid to bake anything, not knowing when I could expect more. When we moved from Connecticut to Texas, I hoped to find it on the shelves again, but alas, that was not to be.

You think I am silly for making such a colossal fuss about a simple bag of flour, of all things. I can assure you, it deserves more praise than I could ever give it. This flour makes the very best biscuits, hands down, that I have ever eaten.

We're travelling to Knoxville in August. I hope I'm not to late to stock up on old-formula White Lily one last nostalgic time.

I could just cry.

Perfect Timing

2008-06-20T07:51:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I had a picture or two to show you, with an accompanying anecdote/Ethanism, but when I went to plug in the camera...nothing.

Now, I had caught Dylan the other day with the camera end of it in his mouth, but I thought I caught him quickly enough that he didn't do any real damage. I wiped it and blew on it and didn't give it another thought. Before I plugged it in, I looked in that end, and saw some sort of blue gel substance which I wiped away and didn't give that another thought either. I figured I would give it a try, and if he'd killed anything, well then, it simply wouldn't work, right?

Well, no. What I got instead was lots of baffled messages from my computer about the drivers for the USB hub and/or the cable I was trying to plug into said hub.

I should have sensed that things didn't bode well when it informed me, "you do not have any drivers installed for this device." Wait, what? I just installed the drivers, like, last week. And they worked beautifully. The menu didn't give me the option of installing more drivers. There was an option to update them, however. So I chose that.

And after waiting while the computer searched for new drivers, I got a message stating it couldn't find any updated drivers that were any better than the drivers I already had. These (of course!) would be the drivers it was saying I didn't have.

The next logical step, obviously, would be to uninstall the drivers I didn't have, and then perhaps it would let me reinstall them. When I chose "uninstall drivers," the computer responded with little more than a blank stare.

After much wrangling and wrasslin' and trying to outsmart it and trick it into doing what I wanted it to do, I gave up. I unplugged the whole thing and looked in the camera end of the cord again, and could see that the thingy-whosits (I use the technical term, naturally) were ever-so-slightly corrupted. From drool. (I'm not being ironic - it really was very slight; I didn't notice the corruption the first two times I looked at it)

OK, whatever program Microsoft has put on here for diagnosing device issues. Some of us have babies. Because we have babies, there are occasional accidents. It would be helpful if you would learn to recognize "drool corruption" when it happens, instead of making us jump through unrelated hoops.

Oh, and the "perfect timing" part? I nearly forgot. When I mentioned to Dave that we would need a new camera cable, he said he had just that morning ordered a new card reader, so we wouldn't have to plug the camera into the computer. It will be here tomorrow.

How's that for prescience?

Tough Questions

2008-06-19T14:26:00.002-05:00

We went to Walmart today to return a pair of shorts I'd bought and to buy some dog food.

On the way there, Ethan was his usual talkative self, and one of the questions he asked me was whether chickens have eyes. I told him yes, and he asked why, and I said it's so they can see where they're going, and he asked why we never see the eyes in our food. Ick. I replied that we don't eat that part of a chicken and there the matter rested.

Since we had gotten such a late start due to rain (I HATE driving in the rain - moreso here in TX than anywhere else - I've never seen such slick roads!), the kids hadn't yet had lunch, and since grocery day is tomorrow, the pantry, though not bare, is getting low, and I really wasn't in a foraging mood. So I swung through the freezers and let Ethan pick out something. He chose a chicken nugget and smiley face mashed potato meal for himself and Aidan, and we hightailed it out of there and hurried home to eat, since by this time it was well after 1.

When they were seated at the table scarfing (and I do mean scarfing - they both finished in about 10 minutes - absolutely unheard of with my kids), Ethan waxed curious.

"Do these smiley faces like me eating them?"

It's a question he asks about everything. Animal, vegetable, fruit, or grain.

"Of course they do! They like being fuel for your body."

He thoughtfully took a couple more bites. Then stopped and asked, uneasily, "What head is this? Is this from a kid?"

I hurriedly reassured him that no, they weren't from kids, but they were french fries made into a special fun shape.

That seemed to satisfy him.

I wonder what he'll ask me next.

Predator

2008-06-11T09:56:00.002-05:00

Usually when I think of hawks, I think of them floating lazily through the sky on the wind's currents. When they are not soaring, I've seen them sitting on branches and wires, the better to see around them in order to better hunt, I suppose. I have never, ever seen a hawk on the ground.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I happened to glance out the office window and see a hawk sitting (!) on the driveway behind our van (!!!). Drawn by the nest-building activity of our swallows, no doubt, he was driven away by roughly eight swallows before I could get the camera, and when I stepped outside, he was already out and over the trees at the furthest edges of the neighborhood, the Swallow Posse hot on his talons.

I'm sure we'll see him again, and I'm keeping my camera at the ready.

Peekaboo

2008-06-10T22:08:00.011-05:00

Dear Internet,

Well, hello there.

It's been a while, I know, and I'm sorry. There just hasn't been too much going on, and not too much to talk about. Ethan went through a tough phase, followed by probably the best phase he's ever had (more of that, please!), followed by more difficulties and then - miracle of miracles - a nap! And then tonight we all went to Fazoli's. And that pretty much sums up the past couple of weeks.

The swallows decided not to build over the patio - I guess the kids and the dog spooked them. So they moved to the front and they're building over the door. When we load up the van to go anywhere, they sit on the roof and chide us. If things get too scary for them, they fly to The Stick and wait till it all blows over.

Anyway, yeah. I just kind of still don't have a whole lot to say. Don't jump ship though! I promise I'll be back, I just don't know when.

In the meantime, I have kids! Have I mentioned that? Here, to tide you over, are a bunch of pictures of them, set to music! (Just click on the thumbnail below - please let me know if you can't see it or can't get to it.)

See you soon.

XOXO

Mommy

My Montage 6/10/08

Quote of the Day

2008-05-27T18:23:00.001-05:00

"Mommy! Aidan is...Aidan is blowing his mouth water on me!"

Because spitting is just so...indelicate.

Glimpse Into the Future

2008-05-26T21:23:00.004-05:00

This morning Dylan learned to flush the potty. He's light years ahead of Aidan with this skill. I think it was only a couple months ago that Aidan figured out what fun it was to flush.

All day long Dylan's been trying to sneak in there and do more of this exciting new activity. And a couple of times he's been successful.

He also likes to sneak into the master bath, crawl into the shower, and splash in the puddles. I thought it would be enough to keep the shower door shut, but he promptly adapted, quickly learning to slide it open so he can crawl in and sit in the damp. He will not be deterred, the stinker.

He's not yet 10 months old. These seem to me as if they are rather advanced skills for someone who can't even yet walk.

I find myself wondering: what on earth will life be like when he's 2?

The Happy Couple and New Growth

2008-05-22T21:38:00.004-05:00

Continuing on our topic of this morning, I know I'm counting my chickens (swallows?) before they hatch, but I'm really hoping this new little bird family moves in. Of course, it's likely that the boys will scare them away from building here, but I can dream.

Also? Please ignore the overgrown-ish look of the area surrounding The Stick. As I said, it's a bit neglected, but I hope to get in there tomorrow and do something about that.

Good Things

2008-05-22T14:25:00.005-05:00

I've been in a bit of a funk lately, so I haven't felt much like writing, but I wanted to talk a little about two lovely things that have happened to me in the past 24 hours.

I used to know a guy who was constantly on the lookout for what he called "hugs from the Lord." These were just about anything that made him smile - from spotting a hawk circling in the sky, to a lizard scampering across his path.

And in the midst of my blah-ness, my eyes have been opened to God sending me special little reminders that my life is good.

Late yesterday afternoon, the kids and I went out in the yard to sit and veg out (me) and race back and forth the length of the yard (the kids). Two birds were chasing each other through the sky above our house and our immediate neighbors' houses, at times dipping and swooping so low over our heads that I could see every detail of their feathers. Their tails were beautiful. When spread, they looked like a butterfly's wing.

This morning, sitting on the floor in the living room, we heard a bird singing very close by. I assumed it sounded so close simply because I had a window cracked, but what happened later made me realize it had been closer than I thought.

At lunchtime, Ethan pointed excitedly out the back door. I peeked out, and saw a Barn Swallow perched on a small lip of the overhang on our patio. When I came back with the camera, I spooked it and it flew away before I could get a shot. When I went looking online to find out what kind of bird it was, I discovered it was the same kind of bird that had been flying in our yard the night before. And I learned that they like to plaster their basket-type nests on an open wall. Such as the overhang on our patio.

I'm thinking that our young swallows are looking for a suitable space for nesting. And I am delighted beyond all reason.

The second thing that has me smiling is something I noticed a few days ago, but didn't really pay attention to until this afternoon. And it requires a brief back story, so bear with me.

When this house was built, the builder planted an oak in the front yard.

Which promptly died.

So he planted another.

Which also promptly died.

So we gave up calling the builder and decided to do it ourselves. Went to Lowes and picked out a pecan tree.

Which faltered, but did not die. Well, right away.

The next season it looked pretty puny, but it still made a valiant effort and put out some leaves.

This season, nothing. We basically have a 7-foot-tall stick in our yard, decorated ever-so-optimistically with a ring of daffodils.

And that's where the matter stood early this week when our neighbors offered us a young magnolia they were going to remove in order to put in a pool. I was excited, because really anything is better looking than The Stick, and don't get me wrong - I love magnolias; but I mourned the loss of the pecan. I had my heart set on pecan.

They said they'd bring over the magnolia sometime in the next couple of weeks. So at press time we are still living with The Stick.

And because we don't keep up with the weeding like we probably should, I didn't notice a small growth at the base of The Stick until today, really. And it's already a foot tall if not taller.

It's a wee baby pecan tree, sprouted from the roots of the one that died.

And these two little things have me practically giddy with excitement. I guess it doesn't take much to pull me out of my doldrums. And I'm happy about that as well.

Recent Ethan Quotes

2008-05-18T16:25:00.002-05:00

Yesterday morning at breakfast Ethan noticed that the sun was shining on the water in his wading pool and reflecting the ripples onto the living room ceiling. He pointed it out to Dave, saying, "See, Daddy? That's the reflection of the water in my pool. It looks like dreams dancing."

*****

Ethan's doing yard work in the back yard this afternoon, busily mowing with his wagon, and "weedeatering" with the big watering can. He came upon two bugs joined together at the tail, presumably mating, the one in front crawling around as if nothing were happening, dragging its mate along backwards. For a split second I envisioned myself scrambling for an explanation, but as it turns out I needn't have worried. It made perfect sense to Ethan, without my having to say a word. The one bug was simply towing the other.

Note To Aidan

2008-05-13T17:48:00.001-05:00

Dear Aidan,

For the 78,593,874th time - those are NOT APPLES. They are ONIONS. You can listen to Mommy on this one, or you can keep sneaking into the pantry and eventually evade my eye long enough to figure it out the hard way. It's your choice, of course, but may I gently suggest you choose option number one.

Love unconditionally,

Mommy

Vivid Imagination

2008-05-05T09:18:00.001-05:00

Only in Ethan's eyes could a sausage link with a bite taken out of it resemble an exhaust pipe on a Dodge truck.

For Jamie

2008-04-30T12:19:00.006-05:00

(I instantly thought of your dead bug post from the other day when this happened!)

Just now as I was giving Dylan a bottle, the boys came racing into the house, highly excited about something.

Ethan exclaimed, "Aidan found something prickly! I think it's a black seed! It's going to grow!"

Aidan came forward, opened his fist, and showed me his treasure.

A wooly black caterpillar.

I neither knew nor cared to know whether it was living or dead, and I'm afraid I rather abandoned my customary aplomb I try to maintain when confronted with things the boys find in the yard.

"Oh my goodness, a bug! It's a bug! A bug! A BUG! Get it outside! Hurry! Hurry! Go! It's a bug - take it out!! And tell Aidan to put it down on the patio!"

Meanwhile Dylan continued his bottle, blissfully unaware of the maelstrom of feminine freak-out-edness swirling about him.

They exited stage right, and I heard Ethan telling Aidan to put it down so they could get a better look.

And then there was a frenzied tapping at the window, and Ethan informed me, "Aidan has the prickly bug in his mouth!"

In such a hurry was I, I sprayed formula all over the couch while disengaging Dylan. I did manage to set him carefully on the floor before dashing to the back door to investigate for myself.

Aidan dutifully presented himself, mouth open, for inspection. Sure enough, I fished out the caterpillar, curled up and stiff, long dead before the boys ever found him. And then spent the next few minutes trying to wipe black caterpillar spikes off of his tongue, and the few minutes after that googling, "venomous caterpillars Texas." (I guess there aren't any? Or at least this isn't one.)

That's enough excitement for one day, if you please. I really must insist on a placid afternoon, with long, long naps for everyone.

Such a Pity Wishing Doesn't Make It So

2008-04-27T21:44:00.002-05:00

Ethan: I took a big bite and it had spinach in it, Mommy! It had spinach in it, and I loved it!

Me: Great! Good for you!

Ethan: I just pretended that it wasn't there!

(I am so proud of him. He is such a trouper. He finished all his dinner and he got to have raspberry-honey gelatin. Lest you think his life is one never-ending meal full of spinach.)

Architect

2008-04-27T13:57:00.007-05:00

Look out, Frank Lloyd Wright. Ethan just might surpass you.

I always thought it was odd that he didn't really play with blocks or Legos much; at least, not as they were intended. He wouldn't really use them to build anything - mostly he would just bang them together or dump them out to make noise.

And then it hit me - blocks are simply not his medium.

Here are two "houses" that Ethan built this week. While he did use blocks in one of them, they were not the major part of the building.

This one is currently standing on the back patio, though the wagon is now filled with rainwater. I thought it was interesting how each piece has its part to play - everything is supporting something else - nothing is superfluous.

This is one I like to call "Chalet." The book is supported by three blocks, with a fourth block supporting the "chimney" in the back.

Once these are built, Heaven forbid anyone tamper with them. They must stay exactly as they are. If we have to take them down for whatever reason, they are rebuilt as soon as it's feasible to do so. He is very attached to his creations.

Oh, and also? He has picked out a nom de plume for himself, when he's in artistic mode. Tom Brittany: Builder.

Unclean! Unclean! (Part II)

2008-04-22T12:39:00.005-05:00

Guess how many of my kids have strep. Go on, take a guess.

Did you guess three? You're right!

And Ethan's got Scarlet Fever to boot.

He was horrifically sick on Sunday. So sick that he was scaring me, which is actually really hard to do. Usually I'm of the dose-them-with-Tylenol-and-see-what-happens camp. Except, when a kid is throwing up medicine and fluids as fast as you can administer them, and won't move, and cries when you try to pick him up, that method needs rethinking.

So we headed off to DirectCare, where we were ushered into a pediatric room with a table disguised as a school bus, and Nickelodeon on the TV (blech). And we were there for roughly 3,567,398 episodes of iCarly because - guess what! - it was an iCarly marathon! Yay! (I finally couldn't take any more and I muted it.) Ethan couldn't have cared less. He just laid there looking frighteningly pale and red in all the wrong places. He suffered indignity after indignity, and finally we left with the diagnosis of strep and a prescription for antibiotics.

When he came home, he continued peaked until roughly 8:30, when he asked for a drink of water and a popsicle and then proceeded to talk nonstop for the next two hours, and would have talked all night if we hadn't finally whisked him off to bed. I guess if you are Ethan, and you wasted the whole entire day not talking, you have a lot of ground to make up. But I tell you, I've never been so glad to hear him prattling away about everything and nothing.

And Dave and I put up the gate in the doorway to the hall and quarantined Ethan in that wing of the house. You know, so as not to spread it to the rest of the family.

Ha. Ha.

So then he was practically clawing his skin off with all the itching he was doing, and I didn't know whether the rash that cropped up Sunday was due to his strep, or if it was "unrelated" and he picked it up from his brothers, who have had a rash like that for a couple weeks (but not itchy), or if he was having a reaction to antibiotics (which he's never taken until now).

Today I called the Dr., who of couse wanted to see us, so I loaded up all three kids and (thank goodness) Dave met us there so I didn't have to take all three of them in with me.

She checked Ethan over, and pronounced her diagnosis of Scarlet Fever (commonly related to strep), but then I mentioned that Dylan still had that same rash, which he'd had now for probably three weeks, and Aidan also had the same rash, which he'd had not as long but still for a long time.

I was sent to the van to fetch the children.

Both were swabbed, even though strep is VERY rare in children Dylan's age. She said "if you get dogmatic, you are stupid" and she wanted to make sure.

Well, lo and behold.

Who knew you could have strep and be asymptomatic, or at least not have typical, classic symptoms.

And here poor Ethan was sequestered from his brothers, to keep them from catching it, when it is probably where he picked it up in the first place, since if you go by who came down with the rash first, it was Dylan that introduced it to the rest of us.

All kids are acting fine now, you'd never know any of them were sick at all, which is good. We're out of the woods on that count.

But I have never had strep before, and I'm guessing my chances of coming out of this unscathed are slim to none.

Wish me luck.

Love

2008-04-18T16:18:00.002-05:00

Dylan has finished his lunch. He's a big eater these days, and we're sitting on the couch while he tops off with a bottle. He's ensconced on my lap, with one leg up in the air, absent-mindedly flexing at the knee: up and down, up and down, varying the rhythm here and there with a point of his toes or a turn of his ankle. Since he can never totally relax, he's got his right arm stuck straight up, his fingers curled in a tight fist. The heft of him is soothing; his proportions fit mine perfectly - his rear in my lap, his head in the crook of my elbow. I look down at his thick blonde hair - so long on top - and I melt. I bend my face to his fist and kiss those sticky little knuckles, inhale the sweet graham smell of them.

And I know this is exactly what they are talking about when they say you will look back on these days and wish they had never ended; that they could stay exactly like this forever and never grow up.

The Eye of the Beholder

2008-04-17T20:44:00.006-05:00

Tonight we had Globe Trekker on in the background as we wound down after dinner. Suddenly Ethan became highly excited.

"Look! Look!" he exclaimed. "Mommy! Oh, you missed it! Turn it back, Mommy, so you can see!"

I dutifully hit the back button a couple times, and then I saw it, too. They were on a jogging tour in LA, and were passing by a magnificent sculpted wall.

"Right there, Mommy!"

"Yes, I see. You like that? It's gorgeous, isn't it?"

He rapturously breathed, "A blue trash can!"

And sure enough, there was a blue trash can standing in front of that beautiful wall.

I must say, until that moment I don't think I ever fully realized how highly subjective art can be.

Underoos Have Nothing on These

2008-04-11T12:41:00.003-05:00

Me: Ethan, bring me your underwear and I'll turn them right for you.

Ethan: This isn't underwear, Mommy.

Me: It isn't?

Ethan: No!! This is FUNderwear!

Any Time is a Good Time

2008-04-11T12:30:00.002-05:00

On Wednesday I couldn't take being cooped in the house for one more second. I asked Dave if he could get away for a few, and I drove the kids to meet him for lunch at his office. We had a great time on the front lawn, and finally headed home.

We passed by our church, and I pointed it out to Ethan. "Look, Ethan! What's that? See our church? Right there."

And he got very excited and said, "Let's stop, Mommy! Let's go there! Let's go in and worship! Let's go worship, Mommy!"

I explained that the church was locked and no one was there, but we got a fantastic opportunity to have a talk about worshipping no matter where you happened to be - that worship doesn't only happen in church.

So in more ways than just one, our little drive worked out well.

Intercessor

2008-04-07T14:30:00.005-05:00

Since last month, after seeing footage of Atlanta's Georgia Dome as a tornado hit while a college basketball game was in progress, Ethan has been somewhat obsessed with tornadoes. He's not afraid of them (ah, innocent youth), just interested.

I introduced him to The Wizard of Oz (minus the scenes from the witch's castle), and it's now one of his favorite movies.

He asks me at least a couple of times a week to pull up Google images of funnel clouds.

We've worked out a plan of what we will do if storms get too scary. But he has informed me that he already knows what to do if he looks up in the sky and sees a tornado coming.

If Ethan happens to see a tornado coming his way, he will go and find a policeman. Because, according to him, the policeman will know just what to do for tornadoes. The policeman will pray, of course. He'll pray this prayer: "Dear Jesus, please make this tornado go away. In Jesus' name, amen."

I guess he figures those are the highest authority figures he can come up with. If a policeman and a prayer can't handle tornadoes, well then it simply can't be done.

Yet Another Lesson Learned

2008-04-07T14:17:00.002-05:00

If you buy a piece of wooden furniture that has not yet been stained, or assembled (say, an Adirondack chair with its remarkable number of nooks and crannies and edges), stain first, then assemble.

Don't put it together and then try to stain it.

Strays Welcome

2008-04-07T08:32:00.002-05:00

There must be an invisible sign in our yard. Some scent or something left by The Ones Who Came Before.

We have yet another stray. A dog this time. Just out of puppyhood, and a sweeter animal you've never seen.

He came into our yard yesterday afternoon while Dave was working outside. Our dog (Buddy) was NOT amused. He is highly xenophobic, and was practically chewing through the glass to get at this intruder. The Stray sniffed inquisitively at the snapping, snarling apparition in the window, tail wagging, and finally turned away to mingle with the friendlier residents of the household; namely, everyone else.

He hung around all day, though we didn't feed him, and that evening when we closed up shop and came in for the night, he laid down in the driveway with his head on his paws, waiting patiently for us to reappear. When I checked on him again after all the kids were in bed, he was sprawled out, gangly adolescent canine limbs everywhere you looked, and sleeping the sleep of puppies - that deepest of sleeps that wakes for nothing short of the Second Coming.

This morning, when Dave went out for work, he was still there, greeting him cheerfully and politely. When I finally went out this morning to check on him, he heard the garage door open and came loping up from the neighbor's yard, where he'd been lying in the dew.

And I broke down and fed him. And that probably cinched the whole thing right there, and we'll never be rid of him.

And to be honest, I wouldn't mind if we're not.

Ethanisms

2008-04-06T15:24:00.001-05:00

1) He thinks that it's "Eat, drink, and get married."

2) In the same vein as the Dodge Cara series, I learned today that he thinks it's a Monte Car Low. "See? This car is down low to the ground. A Monte Car Low."

We will NEVER get all of these ideas straightened out.