Twicecream and Thricecream

I like ice cream.  I like it usually out, at a frozen yogurt place.  I like it from time to time, but I'm not an ice cream fanatic.  I am, however, (and inexplicably) in a major ice cream phase right now. 

I think about ice cream during the day.  I think about ice cream before I finish my meal, wondering which of the ice creams I have in the freezer I should have (and sometimes I have some of each kind.)  I think about ice cream before bed.  And I eat ice cream about that often as well.

Some days I have twicecream.  Today I had thricecream.  I am going to have to trust my body that I need either the carbohydrates or calcium or some other nutritional component or heck, just the calories because there is no real reason I should be craving ice cream three times a day. 

And no, I'm not pregnant. 


The Big Boy Update:  The pig that gasses.  At the baby shower for my daughter we got not one, not two, not even three, but five rumbling pigs from our registry.  Something went wrong at Target and it never marked it purchased, even though people bought from the registry.  The one remaining pig vibrates when you pull his tail, or he "gasses" as my friend's son, Gavin says. This pig is so round it's more like a ball than a pig.  I pulled it down to let my son play with it earlier today.  He looked at it and made the snorting sound he makes when he looks at one of his books and sees a drawing of a pig.  He's beginning to make some impressive connections lately.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Ice cream cone.  I got mini ice cream cones from the freezer section at the store.  I've given one to my son before, out on the deck, without a shirt on.  Tonight I gave one to my daughter.  I held on to it while she tried to get the whole top into her mouth at once.  When she was done with the main bulk of ice cream, I set down the cone and went to get something.  When I returned, she was holding the cone, in the proper orientation, trying to eat it.  She spent a good while working on it with her two little teeth.

Toy Upheaval

I've rearranged the children's toys before and that time has come again.  But this time I'm doing it with a twist.  We were back up in the attic, with more bins and some new racks trying to get to my ultimate goal of knowing exactly where everything is.  I dislike not knowing where something is and even though we've been busy with two babies, we've been in this house for a year-and-a-half now and it's about time we finished sorting the attic.

I found two boxes of dog toys I'd saved over time.  And I discovered something.  Dog toys (some of them) make great baby toys.  There was a fuzzy squirrel house.  It had three small squirrels you could pull out and put back in the stump/house.  It was just like a cute child toy, but target to pet owners. 

There were other toys, like a feather on a stick and some bouncy, rattly balls and even some child toys that I dubbed dog toys at the time of purchase.  And squeaky.  Lots of squeaky things.  My dog was excited to see so many toys out and my children were happy she was interested in the new items they were playing with. 

So a box of new toys was downstairs now and I had to decide where to put it in the already full toy areas for the children.  I got to thinking about a conversation my husband and I had had about volume of toys and how less can be more interesting and engaging.  So I got several plastic bins and started going around the house, "putting up" fifty percent of the toys that were out.

My children watched me as I put away all their favorite things.  Favorite things they had little interest in of late.  Suddenly, things my son hadn't touched in a while were noticed and he began to pull out things from the back of the closet into the room and play with them.

After putting up several bins, my new plan is to swap toys in and out.  As new toys arrive, older toys will get banked for a while.  When the current toys get stale, "new" toys will be magically pulled out of storage and swapped. 

The Big Boy Update:  Shape sorting.  There are little containers with holes in the top in the shape of circles, squares, triangles, stars, etc.  There are plastic pieces inside the container you take out of the container by taking the top off.  You put the top back on and then put the shapes back into the container via the matching shaped hole.  Very Sisyphean.  But excellent activity for a small child.  My son can do this, but he seems to have to relearn each shape every time he goes back to the toy.  The other day I saw him for the first time grab each shape and go directly to the correct hole without trying other holes first.  And once he'd gotten the first green circle in, he went straight to the circle for the remainder of the round pieces.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Dog curl sleeping.  Have you seen a dog preparing itself for a nap?  The dog curls around in a circle until he's got it just right and then sleeps in a nice balled up mass of fur?  My daughter has started sleeping in an entire different manner than she has before.  When you put her in the crib, she rolls over and then begins to curl around, looking for some blanket to grab and press her head into.  She's gotten legs stuck underneath her before, which looks uncomfortable, but if you right her, she just repositions herself until she's exactly how she needs to be to go to sleep.

Fitness Update:  Running with Rebecca.  My cousin and I have been planning to run together for some time now and today, we made it happen.  She has not one, but two lakes near her house.  We ran by one and then ran/walked around the second one.  Running together is a great way to catch up and she and I never run out of things to talk about.

Useful Exercice? Biking to School.

I was selected for a random survey I received in the mail recently.  It asked questions about what transportation I used in the area.  Specifically, it asked about biking and running in the general vicinity in which I live.

Why yes, I do run in the area, I answered.  I also bike some, I filled in.  Then it got to the why questions and I realized I don't do anything useful with the biking and the running.  I just head out from my front door, do some exercising and then return to my front door.  Then the survey asked lots of questions about how many trips per week, month, etc. I used the sidewalks and green ways for transportation from place to place.  Oh... erm, none.

So I started the survey feeling like I was doing a good thing getting exercise, but I ended it feeling like I was burning up just as many fossil fuels as I had been in the past.  Was there a way I could use the bike or run to some errands?

So running, no.  No real pocket room in running shorts and no one is going to want to see me when I arrive all sweaty.  But the bike, yes.  I could bike somewhere and do something.  I had even gotten a basket on my new bike.   But the best possibility is baby transport.

We have one, soon to be two baby seats that go on the back of our bikes.  The babies love riding around.  In under a month, my son starts a morning preschool.  Could I bike him to school?

There are challenges.  First, the roads are big.  But wait... I saw my neighbor biking his girls to school in a trailer pulled by his bike recently.  When I asked how he got to school on the roads he said, "Oh, you just go through the park and get on the green way."  His children go to a different school, but my son's school is just as easy to get to.  Park to greenway to art museum path to pedestrian bridge over the highway back to green then arrive at school.  Disco.

But how long will it take?  That's the second challenge.  Getting a small child up early, getting him fed and then biking for how long to get him to school?  So today I checked out the travel time and distance.  It's slightly under six miles and took me about a half hour.  That's doable.  That is it's doable if someone is at home to take care of the second baby while I'm pedaling.

But I'm so going to do it one day before the weather gets ugly and no one wants to be outside.  After telling my husband how the route was and my total travel time he went out later in the day and beat my round trip total time by seventeen minutes.  Showoff.  Maybe I'll send daddy to school on the bike with the boy.

The Big Boy Update:  "Stuck.  Help.  Corn."  That is what he said at lunch.  And he said it several times.  He was eating corn on the cob, which he loves.  He said it several times and pointed at his teeth.  I looked and lo, he had corn stuck between his two front teeth.  That's the most impressive bit of communication he's done yet.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Do not like shower, mama!  Normally they get a bath.  We decided to try a shower with them tonight.  My son loved it.  He backed in the corner when it was time to get him out, said, "no no no" and then, "bye bye" to explain how he was not finished and please leave the water on as we left.  But my daughter screamed the entire time.  By the time she was clean, she was in the "snuffies" phase of crying where catching her breath was taking over and her ability to cry was limited by her upset gasping.  

Fitness Update:  12 miles biking.  Fun, and not nearly as tiring as running.  Also, much less sweaty.

The Beauty and Fright in the Night

Isn't lightning stunning?  I love it.  I love a good storm.  I Love seeing the lightning, watching it cascade across the sky and then hearing, or even feeling the thunder. 

We've been having a series of storms the last week or so that have been just beautiful to watch.  Riding home from the mountains last week, I was looking down and my husband kept exclaiming, "wow, you missed some amazing lightning."

I was out last night on the swing again (I am rather fond of the new swing set,) and there was lots of lightning going on.  It seemed far enough away as it wasn't raining on me, but from time to time it would seem a little too close.

It's interesting with lightning, isn't it?  You can marvel at it, the power and beauty.  But at some point it's too close and suddenly it turns into a menace to be feared and treated with excessive caution.

Also... butterflies.  Lots of them.  This is the third summer we've been here (one in construction form) but we haven't seen butterflies.  Or we haven't seen so many.  They're everywhere.   Some are beautiful black and iridescent blue.  There are the monarch-type yellow and brown and then some that look like little buttercups in flight.  I don't know what's caused them to visit, but they're a delight.

The Big Boy Update:  Hot Hat Help.  Three of his favorite words and they all sound the same.  We've been doing a lot of context-based listening to determine if he's saying something is hot, or he needs help, or it's related to the top of his head.   If it's food related, and he likes it, he's liable to do his, "happy food dance" in his seat, bouncing from side to side and looking pleased while shoving food in his mouth.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Dance Central.  She loves music.  When music comes on she dances.  If she's standing she does the little bounce up and down that's so classic with happy babies.  If she's sitting she bounces in place and smiles.  Today, she added a new dance and swayed back and forth while holding on to the ottoman.

Fitness Update:  10+3 (or half in two).  New record, ten miles.  Ten slow miles, but hell, ten miles.  When I came back into the neighborhood I ran into my neighbor who had gotten a late start, but was running with her daughter in a stroller.  I told her I was going for a new record and when I told her I had a half mile to go to make ten miles, she said she was going to run it with me.  How cool is that?  So we finished out my ten miles and got to chatting about our plans for the half marathon.  I was walking to cool down, but walking quickly.  She was running slowly beside me.  And here's the interesting thing, I started running more than once without realizing it.  I suppose it's like driving on a highway, then getting on a slower road and having your speed creep back up on you because you're just used to the higher speed.    Then, this afternoon, Uncle Jonathan came over and we're training for a 5K together so I went back out and ran another three miles with him.  Wait a minute, 10.1 + 3.0 miles = 13.1 miles.  Hey, half marathon in two runs.  What an unexpected and unplanned surprise.

Breakfast Time

One of my favorite times of the day is just before breakfast.  If you'd have asked me years ago if I would look forward to, even enjoy, getting up before everyone else to get breakfast ready for a family, I would have told you definitely not.   But so it is.

Other people might guess that nap time and bedtime were what I look forward to the most because it's what I joke about often.  But early mornings have become a relaxing, fun period I look forward to.  \

 A lot of the time I've gotten up early to exercise and shower.  So I'm in a good mood, and I'm ready for the day to start.  I like being in the kitchen, getting meals ready for the children, having a cup of coffee and letting the dog out.

Sometimes it's quiet.  Usually it's not.  The babies wake up before breakfast and talk to each other.  Or they complain.  Or they just cry.  But a little settling, a toy or book in the crib and they're fine until it's time to get up.  This morning, for example, my son is practicing all his words.  He's most likely standing up in the crib, looking over at his sister, who is holding on to the crib bars, and talking at her.

When breakfast is ready and it's time to get them up, there's nothing better than going up to their room, walking in and having two babies smile their biggest grins at you because they know it's time to get up and eat.


The Big Boy Update:  Down the stairs.  The new play set has a ladder/steep set of stairs that my son can dash up.  Getting down is another matter.  There were no hand rails so my husband went and got them from the store yesterday once we realized we needed them.  After adding them on, we expectantly waited to see how he would climb down.  He used them, but didn't go anywhere for a bit.  We figured he wasn't going to take the chance yet, looked away to start cleaning up the tools and as we turned around he was down on the ground, heading towards us.  That was fast. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Leaves and Swings.  With the new play set, we've been putting my daughter in the baby swing.  She loves it and will swing for as long as you'll push her.  But sometimes she's on the ground.  She crawls around the yard, usually making a direct line for some leaves and then holds them up to the light, rotates them around in all directions and commonly tastes them for flavor.

Efflorescence is a Dirty Word

I have decided efflorescence should be put into the category of "four letter words" because it just offends me.  It offends me that it keeps coming back on my brick patio and under my deck.  I find myself upset that despite my efforts to wipe efflorescence from my life, it returns to taunt me.

Efflorescence is the leeching of salts from stone or brick to the surface, which leaves an unsightly white film on the top.  It can be so bad that red brick can look like it's been salted down for an icy winter storm.  And we have it. 

I've been trying to battle it, but I've been constrained.  The best way to remove it is to use muriatic acid (hydrochloric acid) to remove it.  If you're familiar with this caustic substance, you may know that it's not, shall we say, a fun or safe substance to mess with.  Aside from keeping it away from you, your eyes and skin, you have to cover up all metal surfaces near it because the gasses from it chemically reacting with substances will etch into the metal. 

Pregnant.  Not a good time to slop acid around with a mop.  Babies.  Better to have them far elsewhere while the job is being done.  Winter.  Not the most fun time to be outside in the cold, trying to get white stains gone that no one will be outside to see for months.  But the time has come, and I'm outside combating it again during nap times. 

There is power washing that happens after the treating.  That removes lots of the sand between the pavers.  So then I have to sweep in layers of sand to refill the cracks.  Oh, then you have to get the remaining sand washed off.  Now, with all those steps done, I'm waiting for the bricks to dry for two days and I'm going to water seal them in the hopes the problem will be reduced over the next year.

I did find something my son is great at during all these steps.  He loves to sweep.  But he has no direction in his sweeping.  But when you're trying to get sand into cracks between bricks, sweeping in random directions is a useful skill, not a hindrance.  He was very helpful.

The Big Boy Update:  Barrage of Words.  Slow down little guy!  He is talking and talking and using all the words he knows and trying to tell stories and generally communicate.  And he's really telling you something.  It's not babble so much as it's words we don't understand.  Do his sounds slowly crystallize into words or do we start to figure out what he's saying next?

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Paying attention.  She is very good at paying attention.  She has this piercing look when she's trying to figure something out.  She doesn't smile at strangers initially because she's checking them out initially.  Once you've been processed, she grins like a Cheshire cat at you.   This evening my husband was playing with a hand puppet.  My son watched the puppet and laughed and laughed.  She watched and laughed too, but she took turns looking at the puppet and my husband's face and mouth because she was trying to figure out what was going on.

Fitness Update:  Out of hair purgatory.  I had a keratin treatment put on my hair three days ago.  It's a great process that calms down my friz and generally makes my hair easy and fun to deal with for months.  But the initial three days is tough.  You can't wash it for 72 hours.  You can't put it up because it will remember the band and you could be stuck with a wump for a long time.  Oh, and if your hair gets wet in any way, you have to blow dry it, then flat iron it.  So running for over an hour, coming home with drenched, sweaty hair you can't wash for another two days is not fun.  I spent a lot of time blow drying.  I did bike riding, multiple runs, power washing, and oh, it's been over ninety degrees outside.  I wore a shower cap when I was outside and I looked super stylish to the construction workers next door.  When I finally washed it this afternoon, I think I lost a half pound in dried sweat on my head.  But... my hair looks great, so it was worth it.

To Whom It May Concern, and It's None of Your Business

Writing a blog is an interesting thing.  You're out here, on the grand internet, telling about your life, your thoughts, your experiences.  It's like a journal or a diary.  It's sometimes thematic, sometimes random.  But it's personal.  

Because you chose to make it public, you're sharing that personal component with anyone who chooses to read the blog.  I mentioned a while back that you're sharing anything you write not only today, but any day in the future, because just like books, you can turn back the pages of the blog and see what was written in the past.

So your audience is anyone reading the blog now, and anyone who might ever read it.  So how do you balance writing for you, about the things you want to write about, and writing for an audience?

I don't have an answer to that question.  I'm still balancing.  Consider that I have beliefs that are not up for debate with other people.  I have opinions about which I feel confident and would not be reticent to share.  I don't go out of my way to offend someone, or to argue against their likes, dislikes or beliefs.  And yet there is a level of censorship that happens when writing a blog.

It happens because it's not a diary.  I like writing about my ideas and thoughts, but there are some topics I'm intrinsically bound to avoid.   What topics you ask?  Let's see, finances, my personal relationship with my husband, personal details about friends or family, potty issues—oh wait, I talk about, "the potty" all the time lately—but mostly my personal thoughts that should remain just that, personal.

So the blogging medium is really, to me, a "to whom it may concern," or more accurately, "to those interested in taking the time to read" because a blog is public.  If you want to write privately, get off the internet.

The Big Boy Update:  "My park."  He knows the word, "park" and he definitely knows, "my" and "mine."  Yesterday with the new swing set installed we went outside and he said, "park!"  My husband told him that yes, it was a park and that it was his park.  He started saying, "my park."  It was too cute.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   Feed me.  No, scratch that, give me the food and let me feed myself.  She loves to put anything food-related into her mouth.  She's doesn't swallow too much at once, but she is a voracious eater.  I spoon-feed her only part of what I used to, letting her eat a variety of things after the first container of food.  She can happily sit and eat for thirty minutes, trying different textures and flavors.  He grasp is great.  She can move things from one hand to the other even so she can get the food into a better position for putting into her mouth.

Fitness Update:  Bike and Swing.  My neighbor and I were going to run this morning.  She wasn't able to make it and I'm rather glad because I wanted to take the new bike for a ride.  I needed a break from running at any rate.  Also, new swing!  I love swinging.  Have always loved swinging.  The new swing set/slide/fort for the children has a great swing on it.  I swung for twenty minutes last night and twenty minutes this morning.  Swinging is an energetic thing if you're working at it.  I may spend more time on the swing set than my children, I like it so much.

He Knew and I Didn't Listen

This potty training thing is an interesting time for everyone of late.  My daughter is too young to do more than practice and get into the routine of using it.  My son is old enough to begin to understand what needs to be done and how to communicate it.

He's got the word, "potty" down.  He says it all the time.  He knows, "poop" and "pee" and he can explain that he's gone in his pants.  He likes to sit on the potty, see if anything has happened in the potty, remove the insert and dump any contents (that he has yet to make) into the toilet and then flush the toilet.  He even likes to wash his hands afterwards, which he needs after all the touching and checking around he's done during the process.

I think we're getting places.  I also think we have some distance to go before we not only save some diapers, but make less laundry.  At this point, we're at (I hope) the maximum time expended and clothing soiled in order to make potty-progress.

This is the, "training" phase.  The phase that requires a regular schedule at home and consistent practices.  After breakfast he gets put into training pants.  They are cotton and fairly thick, but they are easily made wet by a boy.  Wet and down the leg, oh fun.  Any time he says, "potty," "poop" or "pee" we ask if he needs to go and even if he says, "no" we encourage him to go.

He loves potty time.  Likes the books, likes talking to you and the process.  But not much happens.  Sometimes, like this morning, we went to the potty after breakfast.  Put on training pants.  Pants were drenched in twenty minutes and he didn't care.  So we went back to the potty and talked about what you do when you need to pee.  Second pair of pants.  These he realized he peed in, about ten seconds too late and made a sad cry, upset sound and looked at me.  So back down to the potty with praise for noticing and caring this time.  Third pair of training pants on and back upstairs (glad to find his sister was still playing happily) and five minutes later he starts saying, "potty... potty."   I say, "yes, we just went to the potty."

And I should have known better.  When in training, and the child indicates they need to go, you always go, even if it's five minutes later.  And I didn't listen.  So we went back down and changed into training pants number four.

But I told him I was proud of him for realizing he needed to go potty before he went.  That's the first time I've seen him do that.  We think he says, "potty" a lot when he's just gone in his pants.  It's hard to tell sometimes.  The ability to know before you go and have control over it is a big step.

Next time, I'm going to listen to him, even if I've gone up and down the stairs twelve times.


The Big Boy Update:  Bowl.  Vacuum.  Spoon.  More please.  Bye daddy.  I'm failing on listing words of the day he learns.  Of note today, he is just learning to put more than one word together.  He said, "more please" and "bye daddy."   I should state that he says lots of things in a row, full conversations.  But they're not in English.  We've tried to get him to say two words he knows, such as, "more" and "please" together, but he hasn't gotten it until recently.  Today when he said "more please" for some animal crackers we realized he was getting it.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Broccoli.  I thought it might have been a fluke when we gave her some broccoli last night and she chewed and chewed and seemed to be loving it.   She loves to gnaw on anything and she loves feeding herself.  After feeding her her main meal for dinner, I tried some broccoli, from the refrigerator, from last night, cold.  She couldn't get enough.  She ate as much as she could get into her mouth with her tiny two teeth while we ate dinner and cleaned up.  Later, after her bath, she pulled up at the tub and I looked over to see her gnawing on the edge of the tile.  I'm all for roughage, but that's going a bit too far.  We went to find a teething ring in short order.

Fitness Update:  I decided to get a bike after riding my husband's some and then taking my son around with me with the baby bike seat on the back.  I picked the bike up this afternoon and my husband, son and I went for a quick ride around the neighborhood after dinner with my son on the back of my bike.  I'm looking forward to more rides with him and my daughter too in the future.  Also, the bike has a bell.  It goes, "ding ding."  It's great

Once You Go Hot, You Can't Not

I never liked hot things.  Spicy-type of hot.  "Ouch," my mouth would say.  And I wouldn't understand how people could like things so spicy.  It seemed like people who liked spicy things, needed that spicy.  I am beginning to understand now.

When I was in my early twenties I had my first positive experience with a hot sauce.  A neighbor loved all things hot and spicy and he said there was a good chance I disliked hot sauces because most of them are made with vinegar.  He had these Melinda's sauces that were made with only the chili pepper, onions and carrots.  We went to Hooters one night and he brought his sauce along.  I remember putting some of the sauce on saltines and eating them and not having that terrible, uncomfortable burn in my mouth that you just have to wait out.

After that, I went another twenty years of not liking chili-spicy-pepper-hot.  During pregnancy number two, my theory being pregnant women crave things so I might as well use the time to culture a new taste, I worked on liking spicy hot things.  And I succeeded.

I had always thought the spicy hot flavor would drown out any real flavor a dish might have.  The heat does tend to strong arm a dish, but it doesn't eradicate the flavor like I thought it might.  Now, dishes I used to get with no heat (say a burrito) I can add the extra hot sauce onto the order I've had for years, enjoy the item just as much with the same flavors, only now hotter.

I am starting to understand the, "need for heat" some people have.  Sure, I could go without the habenero sauce, but golly, it's so much better with it.  It seems that once you turn the spicy button on, it's hard to turn off.

The Big Boy Update:  Battle of wills.  About two weeks ago we had a challenge of wills.  He didn't want to eat the breakfast food.  He wanted to eat nothing, get down and play.  It was foods he liked but he wanted to piddle in them.  We told him he had to have one more bite of any of the items of food and he could get down.  He understood us, that was clear.  But he wasn't going to budge.  His Mimi arrived but he wouldn't take that one bite in order to get down and play with her.  An hour later, with my husband and me taking shifts, he finally took one bite.  We told him how proud we were and let him down.  It wasn't a fun battle, but we lasted him out.  Stay tuned for his next act of defiance...

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Up up and up.  I would report all sorts of exciting things, but of late all she wants to do is crawl to pull up and stand.  She's getting better at getting back down via prat falls.  She is getting somewhat less-bruisy as she can control herself on the way down.  She is also crawling faster every day.  I'm going to start calling her, "Zoom."


Fitness Update:  Eight weeks and holding.  Exercising more and I'm both less and more hungry.  Heck, last night I made a trip to the grocery store just for ice cream (shame on mamma.) But at eight weeks after hitting my weight loss goal, I'm still holding.

The Cleanup Crew Named Lu

And how I have missed her...

Due to travel from one grandparents house one to another, golf tournaments, visitors and schedules in general, we left the dog with my mother- and father-in-law for the past week.  I knew she would have a great time.  She is treated like canine, no, human royalty during her visits.  She gets tasty treats, has long walks, visits with neighbors and even goes on errands with my in-laws during her visits.  In short, I'm sure she'd rather stay than come home.

You never know how you'll miss your pet until they're no longer there.  In this case, I didn't miss her in the traditional way, as I knew what a great time she was having.  I missed her in the, "Looks like I'm going to have to get on the floor again and clean up crumbs" way. 

She is always under my son's high chair.  And now my daughter has figured out it's fun to feed the her.  Does she need to go outside?  We won't know until meal times are over, because she's on the job, making sure not a crumb remains unclaimed, as the children eat.

She is so thorough and consistent in her job that I didn't realize what a mess my son was until she was gone some time back.  I remember saying to my husband, "I now understand why parents don't like Cheerios, because they get on the floor and get stepped into powder."  In our house, any Cheerios that drop are immediately eaten, no chance for crushing. 

This weekend at my parents, we could have used her on the deck at every meal and snacks.  My son does love to sweep, and he tried to help.  But his success at sweeping the crumbs and ort off the deck is three levels shy of hit or miss, otherwise known as, "miss."

Our dog returns tomorrow.  We'll see if she's willing to take us back in as owners after her grand treatment at the grandparents.

The Big Boy Update:  Park and Pony.  We went to the park the other day.  My mother does a fine job of finding new parks that will be fun for little children.  She also told him where we were going, so that he understood "park" is a place to go and play.  By the end of the day he was saying, "park park."  There's another thing she taught him called, "riding the pony" where he on your foot and you bounce him up and down while saying, "Giddyap giddyap giddyap pony..."  Although my mother started this game, he will "mount" any unsuspecting foot.  But he's too big now and he falls to the side and can't balance.  My mother was playing this with his sister yesterday and he tried desperately to piggyback on the foot pony to get one more ride.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: "Ha ha ha ha ah ah ha."  She chants this ha/ah sound a lot lately.  She seems to be listening to her voice.  She does it when she's thinking about other things, like sitting on the potty looking at a book.  If you say it back to her, she stops, looks at you for more information and the resumes when she's mentally distracted again.

Fitness Update:  10% more body fat and 12% less muscle?  Hold on now.  I know it was a big lunch and I lounged around a bit but that seems an extreme change from yesterday.  Let me weigh myself again and see if the scale's calculations were just off.  No, it's saying those numbers are correct.  It's always within a small tolerance that's changed appropriately with my exercise and diet.  Something must be wrong.  OH!  My son has managed to reprogram the scale.  It thinks I'm 4' 7" and ten years older.  What a relief.  After correcting the programming and all was back to normal.  At nineteen months he's reprogramming digital scales, what will be next? 

Does It Matter if He is a She?

You're out with your son or daughter in a public place.  Someone says, "Oh, he looks so cute asleep," or some other comment.  Does it matter if the person just mis-gendered your child?

My initial thought was that it shouldn't.  If your daughter is wearing pink and the person uses a male pronoun, you can just chuckle to yourself that the person wasn't paying much attention.  Or, you can be concerned that your little girl has male features, and worry about it all you like. 

But we do tend to gender-correct people when this happens.  I was set to write this entry and as I got started typing, I changed my mind.  I thought it was silly that we would correct random strangers.  Who cares?  And then I realized why we do it. 

The event that caused me to think about this was when two ladies commented about my daughter (and thought she was a he) in an elevator.  It was a complimentary comment and I accepted it, agreed, and didn't bother to let them know he was a she. 

In this case, once we exited the elevator, the conversation and interaction was over.  It didn't matter.  But it can matter.  And that's why I think it's so common for people to correct strangers about their child's gender.  For example, if you don't let the person know your child is the other gender immediatly and the person doesn't move along or you find yourself in a longer conversation, do you belatedly let them know they've been refering to your child incorrectly for the last ten minutes and that you've been intentionally using generic pronouns because you didn't intend to get into a long conversation?  In short, we correct in order to avoid a possible future awkward situation.

Sure, some people correct because they may be offended that you couldn't tell their little precious was whatever gender little precious is, but I suspect now that I've thought about it, we do it proactively instead of reactively.

The Big Boy Update:  Hands.  Are terrible right now.  His eczema is on a flare up on his hands.  He's scratched them and they look like little scabbed sores in some places.  He also banged his thumb at one point and the nail has finally fallen off, but the thumb still looks like it was chewed up in a saw mill.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Not so tiny any more.  She has been putting on the plump.  She has stored all kinds of plump in her legs.  The Bumbo seat will be retired tomorrow because we can't wedge her legs into it any longer.  But she's still my tiny baby, even if she is pudgy.

Fitness Update:  Don't run in a belt.  It is not comfortable.  I went walking in the mountains yesterday and decided to do a little bit running.  I walked some of the longer, steeper parts, but I did most of the way running.  In street clothes, not running clothes.  Oh, and there was a belt.  I appreciate my running clothes ever so much more now. 

Let Nothing Happen

It's a fine line with children.  You have to protect them.  You must protect them.  You will never be able to live with yourself if something happens to them, "on your watch" as my mother called it not long ago.   But if you don't let them get out there, fall down, hurt themselves, experiment and explore, they won't have a chance to learn and grow from their experiences.
 
I find myself thinking of a quote from the movie Finding Nemo often.   The father, Marlin, has lost his son, Nemo.  Marline partners up with another fish, Dori, who has a knack of seeing right to the heart of things.  Marlin thinks he's talking to his son at one panicked point instead of Dori and says, "There, there, there. It's okay, Daddy's here, Daddy's got you. I promise I will never let anything happen to you... Nemo."  To which Dori thinks and replies, "That's a funny thing to promise. Well, you can't never let anything happen to him, then nothing would ever happen to him."

That's how I feel frequently.  I see people being over-protective.  Stopping their child from experiencing things.  Carrying the child from place to place, when the child can walk without assistance.  Saying no and stoping exploration and creative though.  It's the, "Let Nothing Happen" mentality that is intended to protect but may hinder instead.

I try to balance safety, reasonableness and flexibility all at the same time.  We each have a point in a situation where we step in to council or even discipline a child.  I find that my tolerances are sometimes shorter than others and sometimes much more broad.  I try not to say, "no" too much.  Anything chanted or repeated too regularly is drowned out. 

But any parent of a toddler knows that, "no" is an important word.  It's so important that it is invariably one of the first words a toddler learns in order to express his or her wants.  And it's most likely because they heard it from you on countless occastions. 

I try to pick what is, "no" and what is okay.  Do I really want him pulling all the spices off the spice rack he can reach on the low shelf in the pantry?  Not really.  But that spice rack is old news to me and to any other adult.  To a child, it's something interesting and something to discover.  So I try to turn that initial, "no" response into a more productive learning experience. 
For example, I'd try to say something like, "what are you doing with those?  Are you going to help me rearrange the spice rack?  You're done now?  Okay, then the spices need to be put back.  Can you show me how to put them back?"

I try to make sure that, "Let nothing happen" has the right emphasis in the lives of my children and, where possible, means, "Let as much as is reasonable and safe happen."

The Big Boy Update:  Into everything.  We're visiting my parents.  They have gone to a lot of trouble to remove delicate, breakable and dangerous things from areas my children can reach.  My son can still manage to find twenty eight things he shouldn't be into in less than an hour.  Earlier today he found a standing lamp in a closet he pulled out while we turned our back.  It was a fun toy, under supervision.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Black and Blue and Bump.  She crawls to the extent she needs to in order to get to the next thing to climb and pull up on.  She has two bruises on her head already and yesterday she got a big bump from another fall.  She's happy climbing and I don't think she minds the bumps because she's going places and those places are up.

Spheres of Awareness

Or... "Wow, there are a lot of runners."  Maybe it's the time of year.  Maybe it's that I started running myself.  Either way, there has been a massive increase in the number of runners around (or so it would seem.)

That's the way it seems to work though.  You look at getting a new car and once you get home with your shiny new car, you realize every third person on the road is driving the same thing you are.  We just went through this with the minivan.  Before we bought one, I never noticed just how omnipresent they are.  It's eerie how parking lots (in my mind) had a minivan here or there until we bought one and now I can barely find our car in the rows and rows of similarly-colored minivans.

Dump trucks.  There's another one that was a true surprise.  I know mud, dirt, rocks, and just trash needs to be hauled here and there, but not until I knew someone who worked with them all the time did I notice how many there were on the roads all day long.

Pregnant women!  Did you know if you are pregnant, 487% more pregnant women walk across your line of sight than at any other time in your life?  It's uncanny.

And now joggers.  There are so many.  They are out at all times of day, and even at night doing their running thing.  It's clear they have multiplied and moved to my area of town because this time last year I didn't notice a single one.

Strange how we notice things that are pertinent to us, isn't it?

The Big Boy Update:  Watching TV.  He can sit still and watch TV now.  Not for a whole show, or even that long.  But I put a pillow on the floor when he wasn't tired enough for a nap and put on a kid's show.  He sat down on the pillow and just watched.  No running around, no going to the closet for toys.  I had heard from a friend that they get where they're interested enough to stop and watch.  He's made it there.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Standing up in the pool.  I filled the wading pool yesterday, got both babies naked and stuck them in it on the deck.  She liked the water, but she loved getting up and down by pulling up and holding on to the pool edge. She was standing and sitting, reaching and grabbing the whole time.  Her brother climbed in and out while she stood there—but I could tell she was thinking, "Next year that'll be me..."

b Is for Bread, d is for Drink

Last night we went to a local "Iron Chef" type competition.  Two chefs and their teams cook three courses each for about two hundred guests.  As this was the quarter finals, these teams had already one one competition.  The food was bound to be delicious, possibly different and certainly creative.

There was an emcee who talked us through getting logged in to vote via their online voting tool via our smart phones.  A sommelier talked about the two featured wines and the official judges (who's votes have higher weight) were introduced. 

There was bread on the table and as it was being passed around someone said, "are we using the plate to our left or right?"  My friend put up her hands, touched her index finger to her thumb on each hand and said, "b is for bread, d is for drink" so the bread plate is on your left. Sure enough, if you do this you make a "b" with your left hand and a "d" with your right hand.

How is it I've never heard of this tremendously useful mnemonic before?  So clever, so helpful.  I will never wonder which is the bread plate again.

The competition was delicious.  The secret ingredient was pork belly.  One of the desserts was a chocolate s'mores cake with pork belly in the middle (small bits) that added just the right amount of salty to a delectable cake.  We had fun talking about and rating the six courses.  The results were close, but the dishes we liked the best were made by the winning chef.  We're hoping to attend again when they have the competition next year.

The Big Boy Update:  Get off the pot.  He doesn't make deposits in the potty, and sometimes he doesn't want to sit on the potty, but once he's there and he's checking out a book, it's hard to get him off it.  "No no no no" and he gets another book and sits back down for a spell. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I see you.  Don't leave me.  She stands up in the crib all the time now.  When you come in to get her brother in the morning she gets angry that you've left and not taken her.  He goes first because he can feed himself in his high-chair.  She gets collected shortly afterwards, but she lets you know she's upset you've left her in the interim.

Fitness Update:  My husband played golf yesterday.  Golf takes a while and we had this dinner we had to go to.  I wanted to do some running so I was dressed and ready to run out the door as soon as he got in.  It was nice to be able to get in a quick run and then go eat a lavish, gourmet dinner afterwards.

So Slow at the Car Wash

The minivan has been looking haggardly after some highway time, baby and people wear.  It was time to get a wash yesterday.  I've gone to the same car wash for probably two decades now.  They do a thorough and quick job and it's close to my house and usually on the way to or from errands I'm already doing.

Yesterday was the first time I've gone with babies to get a car cleaned.  I pull up into the line and tell the guy I'll need a minute to extract two children.  I hope I'm not going to make the people behind me wait, or slow up their process.  I'm thinking I can be fairly quick.

I have to get the double stroller out of the trunk.  Get the, "go bag" out of the back.  Get one baby out of his car seat.  One active boy who wants to run around, see this new place and not be constrained in a second seat.   Once he's in, I have to get out a little girl who is sweaty and asleep.  Try not to wake her up.  Recline her seat in the stroller.

At this point, every door save the passenger door is open on the car.  Get purse, close one sliding door, pack everything in the stroller, close the trunk, push the stroller around and close the other sliding door.  Hope the lady behind me isn't glaring as I stroll off.

Once I get inside I let my son loose and hope he doesn't start pulling stacks of greeting cards off the racks while I pay for the service.  No, he's fine, he's discovered the candy vending machine strip in the corner.  He's lifting the little flaps to see if there is bubble gum or Boston Baked Beans someone left behind.  Ah, he's found a Reeses Piece and shoved it in his mouth faster than I can sprint across the room. 

These folks are fast.  By the time I've paid, prepared the tip for the guys working in the ninety-two degree weather, put my son back in his chair and gotten the bags pulled together again they honk the horn that my car is ready.

Unload in reverse, holding up the clean car behind me while I get everything back in place.   We drive off. 

Last night I felt something in my pocket.  What is this money doing here?   Oh no.  I was so flummoxed trying to get everyone in the car I forgot to tip the hard-working guys.  I felt terrible.  I may go back today and put the tip in their box.   

The Big Boy Update:  Biking.  I decided to try and ride him around on the back of my husband's bike yesterday evening.  It was fun.  He loved it.  We practiced saying words, "Can you say, 'corn'" type of thing as we rode around the neighborhood.   I think I'm going to have to get a bike it was so much fun.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Standing here and there.  She can pull up on anything.  She can pull up on a sheer, slick, tile wall into a standing position now.  She only seems to crawl in order to find something else she on which she can pull up.  She is always so happy when she's made it up somewhere. 

Fitness Update:  There's a "Beat Yourself" option to improve from a prior workout.  Yesterday I paced myself against a five mile run my neighbor and I did last week.  I was able to run it in a little over two minutes faster.   I was much more tired.  I saw my neighbor later in the day and we agreed we're going to have to push faster.  For some reason adding distance doesn't tire me as much as adding speed and removing distance. 

The Smell of Laundry

I like how laundry smells.  Have you ever been to someones house and you could smell the laundry?  There is that smell of the laundry detergent or the dryer sheets and the sound of the dryer making clothes clean, warm and fresh?  I love that smell. 

It doesn't have to be any particular brand of detergent, fabric softener or dryer sheet.  They all blend together and morph into a single scent called, "Clean Laundry" to me.  But whatever the smell is, it's always more distinct at someone else's house.  It's like walking into a kitchen where cookies are being baked.  The smell is very strong when you arrive, but if you're the one making the cookies, you don't notice the smell as much. 

I miss the smell of clean laundry.  When we had the children we went to the "Free and Clear" version of washing detergent.  It has no smell and our laundry room smells decidedly like nothing in particular.  It's probably for the best while the children are babies.  Maybe when we run out of the year supply of detergent I just ordered online I'll move us over to something with more of a laundry smell.

The Big Boy Update:  Steps with no hand rail.  Several times recently he's taken steps without the aid of a wall, person or hand rail.  We noticed him taking the steps to the front door last night without even thinking about it.  From an adult comfort perspective, when he runs (which is all the time) he doesn't look like he's going to fall forward on his face at any moment because he's so much more stable than he used to be.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She likes to dance.  I've seen her bounce around to music on multiple occasions.  She seems to have an interest in music so last night when she was tired, cranky and about ready for bed, I put on some children's songs.  She immediately looked up at me (and then at the source of the music) and started to happily bounce about.  It helped bridge her to bedtime and may have even distracted her from possible teething discomfort.

I Found the C(l)ock

Several weeks ago my son started saying something that sounded very rude.  We didn't know if he was saying "what" or "that" or "clock" but he seemed to be pointing at many things and saying "cock" a lot. 

Yesterday I think I figured it out.  About a month ago I went out of town on a girls weekend with some of my girlfriends.  My children and husband went to my in-laws and had a great time.  I didn't connect that it was not long after that that he began saying his mystery word.

Initially I didn't think much of it.  But my husband noticed it too, and the next week when we went on vacation to visit his brother's family, even they were noticing it.  It seemed like he would point to random things and say it.  I never could figure out any consistency in what he was pointing at, be it a wall, a person, an object or just somewhere "over there."

It became funny enough (and frequent enough) that my husband started telling people he was saying "clock" and couldn't pronounce the "L".  It sounded like a fine theory to me, but we don't say clock to him much at home.  We ask what time it is, but we don't refer to a clock.  We don't point regularly to one and there wasn't an emphasis on any clocks in the house that I remember.  So it was a theory, but not one I really believed in.  I thought it was just a good way to explain my potentially offensive child.

Then we went to visit my in-laws for the day yesterday.  And now I understand.  They have a large grandfather clock in their living room.  Every fifteen minutes, all day long, it makes pretty bongs to announce the time.  My son loves this clock.  He would look over, ask about it and we'd say, "clock, yes, that's the clock."  Sometimes, after several bongs he'd even go visit the clock and pat the case and say, "clock."

So he was inundated with information about large machines in houses that made noises and he was told this was, "clock."  I am guessing that what he was pointing to after that was things that made noises possibly, or large things at the edge of rooms.  I don't know.  At this age children extrapolate one word to such broad generalizations that it's hard to even make a connection sometimes.

But the mystery is solved in my mind at least.

The Big Boy Update:  Or not?  Just when I had the, "clock dilemma" solved, this morning as I got him out of bed he pointed at the blinds and as he was grabbing them said, "cock!"  Then he pointed through the blinds into the muddy lot next door and said, "cock!"  Perhaps it's just his new, all-purpose word?  In the words of the great Winnie the Pooh, "Oh, bother!"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She climbed stairs yesterday.  I can't believe it, but she did.  More than one, and more than once.  It's a slow process, and they were very friendly stairs with wood and carpet treads and there were only two of them, but she made it. 


Fitness Update:  I ran over eight miles yesterday before we left for the day.  It seems like such an accomplishment, and yet there would still be five more miles to go if I am seriously going to take on this half-marathon.  And I need to get some speed going too.  They may have all gone home for the day if I run at the slow pace I'm going now.

When Are We Truly Adults?

At what point are we truly ready to be adults?  I was thinking about this recently because my parents had gone on a trip and were out of touch.

I speak with both of my parents regularly.  My mother and I have a great time catching up on what's happening in each others lives. My father and I talk about computer things and he gives me advice on plants or hardware things around the house.

My husband's parents are also great people I like to talk to and get advice from.  My father-in-law is an excellent person to talk to for investment advice.  And my mother-in-law will help you out with advice on anything you can think of.

But sometimes, when our parents are away, say when my in-laws went to India for three weeks early this year, there's a little void in my life.  When my parents aren't available to call for advice or to just chat, there's a void.  It's a comfort knowing you can call the prior generation and get their feedback or advice and then you can go on being your normal adult self knowing you've consulted your personal family experts.

If nature follows the route it was designed to take, parents dying before their children, some day I won't have any parents there to talk to for advice.   The thought of my parents dying is a very sad one, but the thought of a child dying before the parent is a worse one.

So some day I'll have to be the, "final adult." but for now, I'm going to be grateful that I have a generational tier of adults I can turn to for all kinds of things.

Thanks mom and dad for always being there.

The Big Boy Update:  Friends.  He has friends.  They come over on Friday nights for Movie Night and they are all older than he is, but he thinks they are grand.  They have started looking at him like another child too, teaching him how to fist bump and letting him sit on the sofa with them.  He loves Friday nights.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Milk twice a day.  We worried with my son that he was getting enough formula and eating with enough regularity.  With my daughter, she likes solids so much and is such a hearty eater that she gets milk only twice a day.  With the rolls of fat she's building, I don't think we have anything to worry about.

Bathing Suit Cup Inserts

Guys, you won't know what I'm talking about here, but I bet the ladies will.  Most bathing suits have these "headlight protection" pieces of thin foam in the chest area.  It's a very nice feature.  But it's a broken feature in most suit tops as far as I can tell.

The inserts are designed to come out.  There is usually a little hole in the side of the inside of each cup so you can remove it.  I'm not sure why you would want to remove the insert.  It's thin and uniform at about 1/8th inch thick.  It doesn't provide extra body, lift or support.

But why would I want to remove this useful piece of foam?  It washes well.  They've always washed well for the life of any suit I've had.  I know this, because I never, ever, remember to take the foam out when the suit is wet.

The foam cups do another thing, without fail.  They fold up into strange formations in the wash.  They bunch up to the side or fold in half or roll up.  They never stay in place.  So before you put the suit back on you have to swear at the bathing suit industry for creating something so helpful but implementing it in such an infuriating way, remove the insert, rotate it around to figure out how it went and which side is the front.  Then you have to decide how to best fold it up so that you can get it back in the little slit and have it open back out into it's original, intended orientation.

Why aren't these little foam pieces sewn in?  It may well be the determining criteria for my next suit purchase.  Puce and vomit-colored splash pattern with built-in, non-removeable cups?  I'll take it, thank you.

The Big Boy Update:  Milk shake shake.  We went to Red Robin the other night for dinner and decided to get him the child's milk shake.  He loved it.  He liked his chicken on a stick and fries too, but the milkshake was the star.  By the end of the meal he was jacked up and ready to rock and roll from the sugar.  He slept well that night.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She's still at a good age where I can take her places with me and she won't be a problem.  I had a two-hour car service today I was able to take her to.  She crawled around in the lobby area and made friends with a nice man who has an eighteen-month-old.  Soon enough I wont enjoy taking her places.  I wouldn't like to take my son to the same appointment and chase him around for two hours, hoping he doesn't break anything.

The Watch That Wasn't There

My watch is broken.  I love my watch.  I've had two of the same watch, so I looked online and found out that it's more expensive now, by 50% than it was eight years ago when I bought it last.  So it got me thinking. 

I keep my cell phone on me most of the time, in a pocket, or in my purse.  There's a more accurate clock on it and I can look at it whenever I need.  So I'm doing a test.  Do I really need a watch?

What I have discovered is how very often I look at my wrist to find out the time.  I keep a rubber band hair thing around my wrist all day because I frequently put my hair up.  I have been trying to suss out the time from that elastic band for a full week now. 

What I've been saying to myself a lot of the time is that I know generally what time it is, do I need to know exactly what time it is or is knowing the time something that's a comfort?  It's not uncommon to be time-focused in our society today.  I like to be an on-time person, and I like to be time-efficient.  But does looking at a watch all day long help me accomplish that any more, or does it just make me more time-concerned?

So, I'm still looking at my wrist, or the hair band on my wrist, and I'm trying to not worry about the minutia of time flow.  I'm giving it a few more weeks before I decide on the watch situation.


The Big Boy Update:  Jump and fling.  He can just begin to jump now.  It's so cute.  He knows the process of bending his knees and moving swiftly upwards, but he is just now getting that he needs to push hard to get off the ground.  On the "fling" front, earlier today he wasn't going to nap.  He was making loud, "I'm angry you're not giving me my pacifier any more for nap" sounds he makes of late.  I went up to check on him to find poop smeared on him, the sheet, the blanket, the bumper, and yes, even on the floor.  He was not my favorite baby boy at that moment. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Angry when she doesn't want to sleep.  Of late, she can explain to you that she was not happy about being put in the crib for a nap or bed time.  This is new.  She's getting more of an opinion and a voice.

Fitness Update:  Heart rate compliment.  I had some eye surgery yesterday.  After putting in the IV they put the heart rate monitor on my finger to make sure I was a go for surgery.  I wasn't paying attention, but one of the nurses said, "You must do a lot of exercising, look at how nice and low your resting heart rate it."  That comment made my day. 

Breakfast on the Porch

I love springtime.  As soon as it was warm enough to eat out on the porch, I started bringing my son's high chair out and eating with him each morning.  We would have "nack" (or "snack" as we adults say,) lunch and dinner outside, weather permitting.  We'd even eat out there in the rain if the wind wasn't such that it would blow in on us.

We've had a week of over 100 degree weather so eating out on the porch has been out for a while.  I still like to go out there, and my son loves his climb up high chair for older children that sits out there.  He likes to climb up, sit down, turn around, climb back down and repeat after running around the porch for a while.

We do get a chance to go out for popsicles in the hot weather.  Timing is important with popsicles for a nienteen-month-old though.  Usually, the popsicle gets partially eaten and partially all over the boy.  It is most ideal to feed him frozen items when his outfit is already messy and about the time he needs to go in for a bath that day.

It's going to be hot for several more months, but I'm already looking forward to fall meals out on the porch, watching the leaves turn and enjoying the cool breeze.


The Big Boy Update:  Mama mama mama.  This morning I went upstairs because there was some complaints in the little girl department about a soiled diaper.  Whenever I go into their room and expect them to be sleeping, I don't look them in the eyes and I don't talk to them, or if I do, it's in a hushed voice.  This morning when he saw me he did something he's never done before.  He said, "mama mama mama" at me.  He usually cries or whines or makes sounds in your direction.  After I changed her, I changed him, let him pick out two toys (short, flat toys) and put him back into the crib.  He didn't complain, he's my good boy this morning.  Happy nienteen-month-birthday today as well.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Stand up for tired.  This morning she was standing up in the crib again.  The crib platform has been lowered, so she can't even get her little hands to the top of the railing now, but she can stand up using the bumper for leverage and look around.  She gets unhappy when she loses her pacifier through the rails and it rolls off on the floor, but in general, mornings and waking up from naps are more interesting to her now that she's more mobile in the bed.  And happy eight-month birthday too.

Comfort Movies

I don't tend to watch movies much at this point in my life.  I've been through phases where I would watch a movie every day, or I'd go to the theater even to see a movie when it's just come out.   Of late, I don't watch many movies.  With the twenty four hours in a day, I have things that are higher on my, "want to get done" or, "need to get done" lists that seem to take precedence.

One of those things is sleep.  When the children get to sleep, I get everything else done that needs to be done to end the day and then I go to bed.  My husband likes to watch movies during this wind down time of the day but I tend to get up early to get a start on the next day's list of things that need to happen.  A movie-length block of time seems like a long commitment to me.

Now I do like to have seen movies.  It's the taking time to see them that keeps tripping me up.  Last night, while lying in bed before nodding off to sleep, I was thinking about movies I love to re-love.  Movies that I like to watch, even though I know the lines, because they're a comfort movie to me in some way.  As I was thinking about my list, I realized it's a strange collection of movies.  Some of them would be anything of a comfort to many people.  But they're on my "favorites" list for various reasons I can't begin to explain.

The first, and probably my favorite movie ever is 2010.   It's science fiction, it's well-done, well-acted, and has held up over time.  I'm almost always up for watching it. 

In the realm of Science Fiction movies, I have three other favotires; Stargate, The Fifth Element and Dune.  Stargate has James Spader and I have always liked his work.  It's ancient Egypt with aliens and the premise is compelling.  So compelling they made multiple TV series from it.  The Fifth Element is just plain great from a sheer entertainment standpoint.  I believe I could have it playing in the background and I'd just be a little happier because it's such a fun movie.  And Dune is is such an intricate story masterfully executed on screen.

From a drama perspective, Secretary, Strictly Ballroom and White Nights are ones I come back to again and again.  Secretary, again with James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal is a strange story of two people who fall in love, and how they have to save each other in their own ways in order to do so.  Every time I watch this movie, I see more layers in their acting and I love the film even more.

Strictly Ballroom is a happy movie set in Australia about breaking the rules of ballroom dancing.  It's got some great lines in it.  White Nights with Michail Barishnikov and Gregory Hines is a tremendous story with fantastic ballet and tap dancing. 

Probably the strangest , The Man Who Fell to Earth, is for when I can't get to sleep or I need to wind down.  It's a very old movie starting David Bowie and Rip Torn.  It's such a strange, bizarre even film that I believe it was the fourth or fifth time I watched it that I even made it to the end.  And yet it's my favorites.  It's so funky freaky that I won't even begin to try and explain it.  The good news is, you don't really need to make it to the end, because when you do, you still won't understand what's going on.  Based on when the movie was made, 1976, it is possible you need to be taking hallucinogenic drugs to really "get it." 

Surprisingly, there are horror movies on my comfort movie list.  I love horror movies, but I like horror movies that are more thriller horror with a scientific or supernatural edge.  My two favorites are, Prince of Darkness and Hellraiser II: Hellbound.  Oh, and Poltergeist.  I like all three, but the first and second ones are the best.  

Last is the mini-series, The Lost Room.  One of those hard to explain premises again.  Imagine you had a key and it opened every door.  Then imagine lots of other, "objects" that had strange powers.  The objects are related and there is an overriding mystery to be solved in this intricate story with some great actors playing the various roles.  

The Big Boy Update:  First stair fall.  He hasn't fallen down stairs before, but he fell down half a flight yesterday.  He caught himself but it scared him.  Today I thought there was going to be more stair mishap.  He wanted to go out in the rain.  I let him out on the covered porch and he would run into the rain, in the uncovered sections.  He was very much enjoying the rain.  But the wood is wet and when he started climbing up and down the steps I feared the worst.  Not only did he make it down to collect wet sticks, he came back up and walked up the stairs.  Walked, not crawled.  His hands were full of sticks, he had no other choice.


The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Blue car and bike ride.  Just before dark last night we went on a bike and car ride around the block.  The bike is my husband's bike with the child seat on the back and baby bike helmet to match.  She and I did a walk/ride in the blue car my son loves.  It's plastic with a steering wheel that goes honk honk.  She sits up well enough now that she had a great time in the car.  Towards the end, we swapped her and put her in the bike seat with the helmet.  She promptly fell asleep with the helmet holding her head up away from the rail.


Fitness Update:  Last day before a break.  I have eye surgery tomorrow so I'll be a week without running while the incisions heal.  I decided to do the long run around the bigger loop in the park this morning to see how long it really was.  I kept waiting for, "one mile in x.x minutes..." and it didn't happen and didn't happen.  By the time I checked at close to three miles I discovered I'd pressed pause some time back.  I resumed the GPS tracking.  So I don't know exactly how far the loop is.  I know it was close to 7.5 miles because there are some mileages marked on the web site for the park I found later.  It appears I'll have to run it again in a week to find out.

Oh, You Already Heard This Story

I don't like to think my life is so boring that I only have one or two stories to tell, but lately it seems like my day is punctuated with one or two things of note and that those few things are what I talk about when I'm in a conversational mood with someone else.

When we communicate, we tend to share stories.  It's more interesting than talking about the weather or the news.  But even so, we share what's happening in our lives—or talk about other people's lives—by telling short (or long) stories.  I write down some of those stories of my life or my thoughts here. 

What I've realized lately is that those few stories I write about, tend to be the very same stories I'm apt to share with people I see in person.  Did I not get it out of my system telling the story in written form here?  Then, to compound the issue, the people I tell the stories to are the people who read this blog.  About a third way through the story I realize they already know what I'm telling them.

Sorry folks.  I'm going to have to work on being less redundant.

The Big Boy Update:  His hair is getting lighter.  When the first person mentioned it I didn't think much of it.  Now that about ten people have mentioned it, I don't question it.  His hair has lightened from when he was born.  It's longer now than it has been in some time and yet it still seems to be more light btown than dark brown.  His hair gets messy when it gets a little long. Usually I run and get it cut.  This time I decided to let it grow through the messy stage.  It's starting to get cute curls now.   I may put off a hair cut for a while to see how it looks as it gets longer.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  First family meal.  She has been in a bouncy seat over in the corner for many meals.  She's been asleep for lots too.  Yesterday was the first day I remember her being a fully participating member of the family dinner.  My parents were over and we had six of us at the table.  My son ate and made a mess.  We ate and had good conversation.  She sat in her Bumbo chair and gummed food all through the meal.  She smiled at all of us and even talked back saying dadadadadadadada for a while.  We speculated she might be saying, "Dada" but decided it was just a sound.  The best part was when my son and she had a little babble conversation together.

Fitness Update:  My neighbor and I went running for the first time today.  We ran five miles, and we have decided we're going to definitely consider (note the vagueness) a half-marathon in November.  It was great running with someone.  She's an interesting person and she has lots of experience with babies so I got lots of good advice.

Statement, Share, Story

There are scads of different ways to communicate online.  Three of the most common are Facebook, Twitter and Blogs.  I got to thinking about why I prefer one method of communication over another. 

I have a Facebook account, a Twitter account and a blog.  But this is the only place I've spent much time.  It's largely how you like to communicate, and what level of response or interaction you prefer.

I created my Facebook and Twitter accounts about the same time.  I use Facebook from time to time, but I really don't feel comfortable on Facebook.  It seems to me that Facebook is designed for "sharing" what you're doing with your friends.  It's set up for people to comment via "like" or typing a comment.  It's great if you want to have people not only know what you're doing, but participate in talking about it.  Or at least that's how it seems to me.

I don't really want to have a conversation with people about what I just did.  I think the majority of the time I want to say something, I don't really want people to jump in and say, "oh how terrible" or "that's so awesome."   It's not me in person and it's not me online.

Then there's Twitter.  I do like Twitter a lot.  But Twitter is really only good for making a statement, or posing a short question.  I post to Twitter from time to time, but I don't think I think in one-liners all that much.  When I have something I want to say, it usually takes more than 150 characters to get it out.

So, after several years of floundering in social networking mediocrity, I've found a home.  Blogging is the bowl of porridge that's just the right temperature in the chair that's just the right size.  I don't post here to have conversations about what I'm thinking.  In fact, I try to forget you readers—those foolish enough to read this drivel—are even out there.  I like writing in the blog format because I can tell a story.  And those of you who know me know how I like to tell a story.  I suppose it's no surprise I found a home in blogging.


The Big Boy Update:   Several things on the baby boy front as eighteen months is a busy time.  He picks up new words every day.  Today, at the Farmer's Market, we gave him a small sample of corn on the cob.  He learned, "corn" quickly.  He also had fun with those little honey sticks (sealed straws with honey in them.)   In the realm of all things potty—and by that I mean he thinks everything is now potty related—he pats his, "buh-phu" (diaper) all day and says "potty" and "poop" so we keep taking him to the potty to see if anything has happened, is about to happen or is being pondered.    So far, not much action, but he is making connections and becoming aware of the process and bathroom.  At this point though, "potty" is not only that thing you sit on in the bathroom, it's what you do when you go and it's what comes out when you go.  It is a very overloaded word for him, but he's getting it.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles: She had her first meal including meat today.  I could choose between, "Cluck Cluck" and, "Gobble Gobble."  She got Cluck Cluck.  After eating that, she drooled on some crackers while I ate a Dove bar.  I gave her a little taste.  Then I got up to get a cloth to clean her and she screamed at me.  She was mad.  I came back and she looked at the Dove bar.  I gave her more.  Oh, I see now, she was mad I took the Dove bar away.  I fed her several more pieces of chocolate-covered ice cream until the bar was done.  Dessert met with her approval.

Fitness News:  Section name change from, "running update" to, "fitness news."  Running is fun, but so is swimming, and biking (when I have the seat at the right height and the suspension on, but that's another story.)   I didn't run today, but I did swim a hundred laps.  We had dinner with my cousin, her husband and their daughter, who is the most accomplished swimmer I know.  I asked her what was considered a "lap" so I could count how I was swimming correctly.  Was it down and back, or just down?  So now I have it on authority how to count my laps in swimming.  It takes me about an hour to swim one hundred laps at twenty five meters (or yards, not sure with this community pool what the true length is.)  I bet Olivia could swim those laps in less than half that time.