I Have Asked Two Times…

…and I will not ask again.

My mother-in-law has told a stories many times of when my husband was young and misbehaving or not listening.  In whatever case it was, she would say the phrase, “you don’t want the wrath of mommy on you?”  She tells the story today, saying her son didn’t want to know what that wrath was, so he cleaned up or brushed his teeth or made the birthday card for aunt Sally.

I started counting to three a few years ago.   I had been recommended a book about counting to three and at three, delivering a consequence if the child didn’t comply.   Doing this and being successful takes time, but once you win the 1-2-3 argument, it stays won.    I carefully use counting because it always works and I want to make sure it stays that way.

Something that’s come to light more recently is having to ask multiple times for something to happen.   It might be to put on shoes.   It could be to get dressed to go to school or come in from the playground or stop talking so loudly at the table.  Whenever I catch myself asking for something more than once and having my request ignored though, I’ve started using another tactic with them.  

I will tell them, “I have asked you to put on your pajamas two times, I will not ask again.”   Some of the time I’ll explain to them exactly what will happen if I come back in the room and their little bodies aren’t wearing their pajamas.    I might explain that by not getting dressed, it tells me they don’t know how to dress themselves so I will dress them.   I tell them I don’t know if they’re going to like how I dress them.   For this example, they’ve both experienced me, playing the role of the mom dressing the doll and doing so fairly roughly because it’s time to get to bed.

Just like the 1-2 counting never gets to three, I think I’m getting close to winning the “asking two times" battle too.

The Big Boy Update:  We were doing some ABC flashcards for boys my friend told us about.   The U was Urinal.   I didn’t think my daughter would know what one was, but I thought my son might.  I asked him if he knew what the picture was that started with the “yuh” (or U) sound.   He looked at it and said, “yoilet?”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Today at dinner my daughter dropped an edamame bean and said, “oh, dammit.”   Uncle Jonathan, my husband and I all looked at each other.   We asked her what she said and she told us, saying it again as she dropped another bean.   We told her she could say, ‘darn it’ instead.  

They Never Break

Something happened tonight that caused me to do a double-take.  I wasn’t sure I was seeing things correctly so I went over to the light to check and sure enough, it had happened: I had a broken Lego block.

This wasn’t a Lego block that had been taken to task by a bottle rocket launched at close range from a little boy.   It wasn’t rolled over by the tracks on an excavator.   It wasn’t melted on an oven to see what the melt point was against a burner and it wasn’t mistreated in any way other than put together to make a “water car” by the children.

It just broke.   A whole segment had fallen off when I disconnected one half from the other half.    These weren’t new Legos, but they weren’t forty-years-old either.   My bricks were well-treated, organized by color, even and should have been steadfast in their solid blockiness for decades more.

But it happened.   I’ve kept the brick because for proof.   Maybe next week something equally rare will happen and I’ll get an extra twenty-dollar-bill at the ATM.

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Breakfast Making Experience:  My son and daughter decided to make me breakfast yesterday.   They got out their toy blender, mixer and coffee maker.   They filled up one of the containers with water and then moved the water from appliance to appliance, adding some squirt flavoring I gave them as they did so.   When they were done they said they had made me coffee.   I got out a coffee mug and when they poured it in, it looked just like coffee from all the colors mixing. Next, they got me some wooden toast and put it on a plate.   And finally my son made me a pretend cookie “for dessert.”   My daughter got me a napkin and they set up my meal at the table.    I sat down to eat and my son said, “I want to take a picture mom.   I know how to take a picture with the iPad.”   And he did know how (although there was an issue with his finger in the way at first.)  I told them both thank you for such a delicious looking breakfast.

Rat Trapped

This is not a delightful post to read so I will warn you at the beginning in case you’d like to come back tomorrow.

My husband and I were in our kitchen today, talking to each other and having discussions with the children as they ate their snack.   Suddenly I heard a repetitive thunking sound.   I rotated around to place it and realized it was outside in the direction of the air conditioning units.    I immediately prepared myself to be both annoyed and frustrated because something had gone wrong with the unit.    We had had difficulties in the past, including mechanical issues as well as frozen blades during the winter.    I didn’t know what it was and I prepared myself to not like what I found.

I pulled up the blinds on the window just above the units and said to my husband, “stop the unit, we have an animal caught in the blades.”   We’re not sure what type of animal it was, because by the time we got outside and had been able to cut off the blower fan, it was unidentifiable.  

The fans blow air upwards at the top of the unit and a grate covers the upper edge.   Whatever it was had gotten caught between the blades pushing it up and the grate blocking it from exiting.    Did it fall off the roof and have its tail caught and pulled forcibly through the grate?   Was it somehow inside the unit and got whisked upwards?    Whatever it was, it happened fast because it was quiet one minute and a mess the next.

My children were interested in what had happened.   We don’t hide things like this from them, so we explained and animal had gotten caught and that the fans were dangerous.   My son asked if the animal had been killed and we said that yes, it had and it was very sad.   They were fine with that explanation and went back inside.    My husband was not fine with the state of the unit and had gone to bring the hose around.

When the fan stopped the animal dropped to the bottom of the unit, in visible sight, in a mass that told me there was fur, but not much else.  We decided to not take apart the grill to get to it and just let it decay naturally.

The Big Boy Update:  I told my son it was a full moon last night.  He immediately ran outside and barked and howled.   He told me he heard a fox talk back to him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter told me today she knew what we’d get dad for his birthday present.   She said we could get him, “cereal, crackers, celery, rice and broccoli.  I’m thinking about broccoli.  I love broccoli.  And pretzels.   Goodbye!”

Fitness Update:   We ran a half marathon this morning in nice crisp air.

The Non-sleeping Shirt

I bought two new shirts yesterday.   They’re t-shirt type shirts with nice designs and patterns.  One has a cute little pocket that’s totally useless from anything other than a style perspective.  The other shirt looks a little sports-ish while being feminine at the same time.    I’m wearing one of the shirts today and my husband said he liked my new shirt.

The thing is, both shirts are pajama shirts.   Or they’re sleepwear or whatever term you’d use to describe clothing you got in the sleepwear department.    They’re not particularly thing or see-through.   There is no trace of lace and they’re made from a material that’s comfortable, soft and drapes in a way not-unlike other super soft and comfortable t-shirts in other departments.

On the way out of the store with my non-sleeping, sleepwear shirts I stopped to feel the material and heft of two different shirts on display.   Both felt as though they’d make perfect candidates to be sleep shirts, if someone so desired.

So yes, today I’m wearing pajamas out.   Tomorrow I’m going to wear my other pajama top and I’m going to feel like I have a little secret that really doesn’t matter about the origins of my two new shirts.

The Big Boy Update:  This morning was talking to my son about our friends who have gone on the road to travel.  I explained they would be back to visit around Halloween but they would be traveling again for Christmas.   I explained to him that we would just have to miss them while they were away. My son told me,  “I won’t miss them, I have a hologram of them."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter is currently wearing a pair of reading glasses.   She was peering intently at the beads she was trying to string so I offered them to her.   She put them on and was thrilled at the magnification and has decided to keep the glasses around her neck in case she needs to see anything else up close.

Interval Unexpected

My neighbor and I have been talking about improving our running pace for a long time now.   We seem to have no problem adding distance to our runs, but improving our times just a little has seemed challenging.   I think the challenge part is mostly on my side as I think my neighbor has a tendency to naturally run faster than I do, but regardless of the reason, we’re what’s considered slow runners in the world of running.

The other night I wasn’t sleeping well and during one of my three point roll over maneuvers I came up with an idea.  I would create an interval training plan on one of the apps I had on my phone and start it when I ran out the door in the morning.    I decided to do something so easy, so simple, so short and quick we couldn’t possibly fail or even complain about it.     I created a looping interval of five minutes of running followed by twenty seconds of sprinting.   That’s it.   That’s all.

A few hours later I ran out the door with the interval program activated.   As per usual I ran into my neighbor about half-way to her house, we did our standard turn-around and fell right into our “running in the dark in the neighborhood in the morning" routine.    About three-and-a-half minutes later, a lady’s voice boomed out of my left hip pocket: “twenty seconds high-intensity.”  My neighbor said, “what?”  I replied, “sprint!” and she started sprinting with me without another word.

When the twenty seconds were over I explained what my idea had been and she was all for it.    Some very interesting things happened in the next hour-and-a-half of running as a result:

First, we got an innate sense of when five minutes was up.   That internal clock got kicked up to high alert and we both just knew when it was about time to sprint.

Second, the hills were out to get us.   This was likely our perception of the situation and not actual reality, but it seemed as soon as we hit a hill or got done with a comfortable jaunt down a slope that voice would bellow out from my hip pocket: “twenty seconds high-intensity” and we’d be sprinting up a hill yet again.

Third, we killed the run.   I mean killed it.   Those twenty seconds must have increased our overall pace as well because there is no way running somewhat faster for twenty seconds every five-and-a-third minutes would shave off a full minute on our pace.    That means we were running each mile one minute faster than we normally ran a mile.  We couldn’t believe it.   We were pretty darned psyched about the results.

We’re going to do the interval plan again with some increased goals.   I have no aspirations of being a speed runner, but I would like to increase my pace some and this may well be a good way to do so.

The Big Boy Update:  My son asked for something for breakfast and after I made it for hime he decided he didn’t want to eat it.   I suppose I was in one of those moods, but I made a decision and told him he would have to eat it before he got any other food at home.  He went to school and ate all of his lunch but when we got home and went to the pool, he didn’t have any snack because he didn’t eat his breakfast (which I conveniently brought for him.)  He didn’t want to eat it when we got home either, electing to go out to the back yard and play with our neighbors.   He finally decided to eat his breakfast when he saw his sister at the dinner table eating something he loved (I wonder who decided to serve mandarin oranges to tempt him?)  After that, he ate all of his dinner and any of his sister’s dinner she would let him have, he was so hungry.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter realized we were packing up to go home from the pool this afternoon.   I turned around after a few minutes and couldn’t find her.   She wasn’t floating in the pool and she hadn’t said she needed to go to the bathroom.   I yelled up to the parent who had just left, asking if she’d exited the gate and gone to the parking lot (which we can’t see from the pool.)   He said, “oh, I see her, she’s four houses up the street walking home.”   I grabbed my bag and tried to catch her, but she’s a fast walker.    She knows how to be safe, look for cars and use the sidewalks and our neighborhood is low traffic, so I wasn’t overly concerned.   When I got home I found her coming from around the back of the house.   She told me she’d tried, but all the doors were locked.   I told her I was so glad she had wanted to walk home but next time could we talk it over first?

London Broil

We have a neighbor who has been making specialty jerky at home.   Every so often we run into them and they are always kind to share their latest batches.   This time the husband had been working on some thick cut jerky made from London broil.  

The jerky was delicious so I sent my neighbor an email telling her how much we’d enjoyed it.   She wrote back and somehow we got into a discussion about London broil.   I told her I thought anything involving London broil must be special and delicious, mostly because of my childhood association with the cut of meat.

Once or twice a year my parents would have a dinner party or special guests over for a meal.   My mother would go to the store and get a London broil.   She’d tell me about marinating the meat and how it made the flavors so much better once it was cooked.     Later, usually the next day, our guests would arrive.   My father would, with some flourish, take the slab of prepared meat out to the grill and do just the right amount of cooking to make sure it was the level of doneness we all wanted.

Then—and this was the fancy part—my parents would plug in the electric knife.    After the meat had been cooked and had rested, my father would take the electric knife and cut thin slices of juice-dripping meat and then serve it at the table.

I remember special dinners at my parent’s home.   That knife was loud, but it always meant something delicious was on the way.  

The Big Boy Update:  My son is great underwater now.   He can swim down a good distance to get something in deeper water.   I didn’t know he knew how to forward flips though.   It turns out he can do not only one, but two forward flips underwater before coming up for breath.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter said she wanted snack when we go to the pool this afternoon.   She had just come from the car, where she chose only to finish half of here banana and then the walk over to the pool when she declined to finish her entire banana popsicle.    So, I told her it wasn’t time for snack and she could swim some.   She persisted she was hungry for another half-hour with various requests for food.   The best one was, “Mom, where is the snack bag?   I want to hug it.”

Fitness Update:  I ran five miles and then ended up walking am additional mile while I figured out an interesting “feature” that was unexpected and somewhat hidden with the interval training app I was using.    But I figured it out.   And I got an extra mile in.

Your Children Are Here

Our children have a lot more freedom now that they’re older.   We live on a cul-de-sac street in a neighborhood with relatively low traffic, my children like to play in the back yard and they generally don’t wander off farther than the neighbor’s house to knock on the door and see if their children are home.

Typically, this involves going to the “backyard neighbor’s” house and knocking on the door, but this morning they decided to go ring the front doorbell of our neighbors on the other side.   Their two children are younger than my two, but they love to play together with us regularly having play dates and sibling swaps.  

My husband had just realized we didn’t see or hear them in the back yard and was about to get dressed to go find them when I got a text from my neighbor saying, “your children are over here.”   I messaged her back saying to please send them home if it was a bad time or would she like me to come get them?”   She replied, “they’re all playing nicely and I’m able to get some things done while they’re all occupied.”  

This evening after dinner we all met out back with five of the six children playing on the playground and talked about how it gets easier and easier as the children get more independence and demonstrate they’re capable of handling more responsibility.

The Big Boy Update:  My son didn’t want to have his hair washed in the bath tonight so I told him he could do it instead.   My daughter has wanted to wash her own hair for a while now, but my son is a wholly different person.   He did a fairly good job.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter grabbed her nose yesterday and cried out, “mommy, something smells bisgusting!”  I looked a little embarrassed and confessed, “oh, that was mommy, sorry about that.”

Fitness Update:  Eight morning miles in some muggy weather.   I lost extra water weight from the humidity and temperature I think.

Back Yard Neighbors

I have this thing about telling the truth.   It gets annoying sometimes because I don’t want to exaggerate or misrepresent something, even if it’s likely the only person who would care is me.   For example, I like to run (or bike) to a rounded mile so when I report here how far I went, I’m not telling my four readers I ran ten miles when I only ran nine point eight.  

Another thing I do is get bogged down in terminology.   For example, my mother’s sister’s daughter (otherwise known as my cousin) is one of my closest family relatives.   She and I decided some time ago that our children could just call us aunts, as opposed to figuring out some technically correct but wholly unpractical relationship-based name to refer to us.    Now that I think of it, I may be wrong on the second cousin thing.   I’m not sure what denotes a “second cousin” or a “once removed” cousin, but since she and I decided to simplify the nomenclature to suit our needs, I really don’t care.

Only I do care sometimes, because let’s say I’m telling a story about how my niece is this amazing swimmer to someone who knew from conversations in the past I have no siblings.  In these cases, I try to explain the situation quickly and succinctly.   Only it’s never that quick and it is definitely not succinct.   Also, I think the person listening is thinking to themselves, “oh for pete’s sake, get on with the important part.”

In a related and recent example, I find myself trying to explain the relationship our family has with our neighbors and their children. Commonly I’m talking to people who don’t know what our backyard and the layout of the houses surrounding ours is like.  I try to explain what happens when our children go outside and our neighbors children see them from their back yard and come running out to play with them.  To do this, I go into unnecessarily complicated detail about the relationship of the yards and our proximity as neighbors.

This has to do with the whole not wanting to lie about things situation.   These neighbors aren’t our next-door-neighbors, who have totally different children that my children also like, but are in high school so the relationship is one of sitter/sittee instead of playmates.    I get into explanations such as: “they’re two houses away but  our yards are connected at one point, sort of around a bend and we can see each other and yell across from our decks.”   This is total not-necessary conversational information, but I go into it to be clear, only I think it makes it not clear once I’m done doing that rambling thing I’m so good at doing.

What I needed was a good way to describe these neighbors without having to explain it.    I was talking to a friend the other day and the phrase, “back yard neighbors” just suddenly came out of my mouth.  I was so excited about coming up with this clear and succinct explanation of the proximal relationship between our houses that I stopped telling the story and exclaimed, “that’s it! That’s what they are.  They’re our back yard neighbors!”  

I’m not sure my friend was as excited by my new phrase as I was.

The Big Boy Update:  My son said to me yesterday, “mom, I’m going to throw my pajamas over the bridge, okay?”   We have a walkway across a two-story vaulted area in our house and my children’s room is at one side of the “bridge” as we call it.   They know nothing is ever (EVER) allowed to go over the bridge.   But my son has caught on to the one exception: dirty clothes and linens.   I thought I had been sly, throwing them over when he wasn’t looking, but apparently he’s seen it enough to have figured it out.   He was testing me, or rather asking permission, to throw his dirty clothes over.  I told him he could do so and that he’d found out a special exception to the rule.   I think he enjoyed throwing his clothes down.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I woke up early in the morning two nights ago and felt something warm beside me.   I reached out to hold my husband’s hand and discovered it had gotten substantially smaller.  At some point in the night my daughter had gotten into bed with us, something she never does.   She was sleeping so quietly and soundly that I left her there until morning.

Fitness Update:  I swam 1.25 miles today or a little over 2000 meters.   Just as I was finishing, Uncle Jonathan joined me at the pool to go to the fitness room.   As we left the pool deck it suddenly started pouring rain.   It had clouded up in the last ten minutes of my swim.   I did some upper body and a little additional cardio work and he and I had a good time catching up.

The Last Day of Summer

Today was the last day of summer break for my children.   We’ve told them it’s the last day before school, prepared them for the start of school, helped them understand things will be more regimented in the coming weeks and have generally set  expectations for how things will change starting tomorrow.   I’m not sure they really get it though.

Their lives are fraught with change and they handle it all reasonably well.   They aren’t particularly in tune with what it means to be “summer break” so they’re not overly upset it’s going to be over.  It’s also been nice that we’ve been to multiple birthday parties and school events in the past week at which my children have seen their school friends.    Given the past week’s events, I hope the start of school goes well for everyone.

Tomorrow both children understand they are required to come downstairs wearing clothes they’ve selected for school.   In the case of my son, there is an additional requirement that he wear underpants (he prefers to go without.)   When they are downstairs and dressed, they will be served breakfast.   They have been told they will be having school day breakfasts, and not weekend breakfasts.   This mostly means no pancakes, but it sets the tone for meals.

There will be no iPad.   During the school week iPad time is only available on weekends.  Right now I don’t think they’ll really care at all about this because they’ve been so involved with their back yard neighbor friends they haven’t been inside enough to ask or even care.

My husband and I are looking forward to the start of the school year.  I’ll have to report back here on how things are going in a week or so.

The Big Boy Update:  My son made a small friend at the pool yesterday.   I’m not sure the little boy wanted to be friends, but my son was in one of those, “I’m going to get all up in your personal space because I think you really want to be my friend because in truth, I really want to be your friend.”   The father was pretty cool about it, even though I think the smaller boy was fairly overwhelmed at times by my son.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  At an outdoor birthday party today I asked where the bathroom was at the site the party was being held at.   She said, “it’s just inside that door.   The bathrooms are pretty fancy here.”   As my daughter and I walked in I said, “this is a posh bathroom.”   She said to me, “I don’t see posh.   Is the posh on the floor?”

Fitness Update:  I went for a bike ride with my neighbor this morning.   She hasn’t done a lot of riding in many years so she wanted to see if she liked riding.   What she had done over the past few years was a lot of biking with young children, moving at the speed of four- and six-year-olds, which is no way to find out if you like riding a bike yourself because you hardly go anywhere.   We biked nine miles, including going into the park and on some trails.   She liked it and said she thought she could easily go for longer next time.    Then after dinner tonight, I got specially dressed and minimally prepared and went to the pool on my bicycle.   I swam 1.5 km, got out, put on my shoes and helmet and biked five miles.   I wanted to see how tired I was after the swim and what the transition was like going from swimming to biking.   For the first mile, my body was unhappy about the whole change-up.   It was telling me I was “so very tired” but it was a ruse, a lie—I was fine.   After three miles I was ready to go further but it was time to get back and put the kids to bed.   Good to know I could make the transition without difficulty.

Triathlon?

I’ve been talking to several people about doing a triathlon recently.   My neighbor’s husband has done a half Ironman in years past and has told about how challenging it is time-wise as well as on the body.   He, along with some other people in our neighborhood, are considering an Olympic format race instead.

The distances specific to the Olympic format, also known as "international distance", "standard course", or "short course" are:

•  1.5 km swim (.93 miles) 
•  40 km bike (25 miles)
•  10 km run (6.2 miles)

I can do the run distance easily as it’s less than my average morning run.   I’ve biked forty miles recently and today I tested out the swimming distance, swimming the 1.5 km in our pool without stopping.     Doing one event alone isn’t a good indicator of preparedness for a combined event though.   

I talked to my neighbor that I run with yesterday about it as well and she is interested too.   She hasn’t had much experience riding a bicycle so tomorrow morning we’re going to spend an hour in our neighborhood riding around and getting a feel for riding, shifting and overall getting comfortable on her bike.    

I think I want to do another triathlon (I’ve done one before with my niece that was a mini version.)   Hopefully we’ll get a group together that’s interested.   My husband’s even considering it I think.

The Big Boy Update:  My son keeps asking where his halloween costume is.   His was backordered and so the bag only came with his sister’s costume.    Explaining high demand and back ordering has been challenging.   He keeps wanting to know why his didn’t arrive. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I was reading a book to my daughter.   There was a page with the main character’s “Gramps” when they went to the lake to fish.   My daughter said, “hey, we have a Gramps at Mimi’s house.” 

Fitness Update:  I ran eleven miles this morning and swam 1.5 km early evening.   I think that may be the longest distance I’ve ever swam at one time.

Smunderpants

My children have taken up a hobby lately of changing the starting sound in a word and replacing them with another one.    The title of this post is one example my son came up with last week.    I don’t know if it’s a language development stage or an indication of interest in words or letter sounds, but it’s been a regular happening from both my children lately.

My son is the leader in the sound-change game though, with my daughter being a happy follower, repeating whatever he comes up with.   It’s been a trick to explain sometimes when they’re being introduced to someone new or are meeting an adult or child they haven’t seen in a while and immediately call that person, “Peel” instead of “Neel.”   Papa was, I think, Momappa.   The children deliver these dramatic mispronunciations with such enthusiasm it’s as though they expect to be praised for coming up with an alternative to the person’s name.

I’ve noticed though that my son seems to take particular pride in coming up with alternative pronunciations to words they aren’t allowed to say (bathroom words) in inappropriate situations.   For instance, you might be called “smoopy pants” instead of what they know they’re not allowed to say.   I wonder if getting around word rules is how the whole thing got started?

The Big Boy Update:  My son was playing superheroes again the other day.   He told me he had the power of surfboards and his sister had the power of grapes.    This wasn’t the first time he’d enumerated the super powers they each had.   Two week prior he had told me on a ride to school how he had the power to fly, had super strength, could see in the dark and could shoot webs.   He then said  his sister had the power of throwing strawberries in the air.    It would appear she has lots of fruit-related skills in his mind.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter met a cat tonight.   She was very careful and cautious and the cat stayed put for her to approach him.   She reached out carefully and the cat sniffed her hand; she giggled.   She petted him on the head and neck gently and he rolled over; she laughed.   She put her face too close to him and he bopped her on the head to tell her to back off (which was done in a polite, non-claw, cat way.)  My daughter hid behind the chair to recoup and regroup, telling me she didn’t like that.   I told her the cat was telling her to give him more space.   She came back a little bit later to pet him again before we left.   As we were driving away, she called out, “bye cat.”

I Swear It Helps

My husband gets the magazine Popular Science every month.   When it arrives he usually spends a good part of the rest of the afternoon leaned over the counter in the kitchen, reading it from cover to cover.   Sometimes there are articles he thinks I might like or be interested in.  He’ll tell me about the latest research or discovery or invention while I’m working on something like folding laundry.

Yesterday he came into the bedroom while I was just finishing up folding the last of the kid’s clothes and said, “you might like this” and told me about the “Less-Nobel Nobels.”  For twenty-five years the Less-Nobel Nobels have been a tribute to science’s funniest research.  

He told me in 2010 the Less-Nobel Nobel for Peace was given to the researchers for confirming the widely held belief that swearing relives pain.

I am a consummate swearer, a die-hard user of foul language and generally a big potty mouth.    I swear a lot.  I swear any time I drop something—which I do a lot.    I swear any time I get annoyed at  something—which happens all the time.   And I always swear when I hurt myself.    I am very happy to learn its helping to relieve my pain.   I rather thought it did.

I’ve considered stopping swearing, but honestly, I think it was easier to stop drinking alcohol for what’s almost been a year now than it would be to stop swearing.   That would take commitment and I’m not sure I’m up for the job.

The Big Boy Update:  I was telling my son about his grandparents a while back.   I named them and then told him he was lucky to have four great grandparents.   He said, “you mean five grandparents.”  I asked him who the fifth one was.   He replied, “Uncle Jon.”   Uncle Jon, we love you, man.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Nana is coming to town tomorrow.   She’s been watching our dog, Lucy, and she’s bringing her back home in the morning.   I told my daughter Nana was coming and did she know who she was bringing with her?   My daughter said, “her purse.”  

Can We Have Six Cups?

My children have been playing regularly with their best friends who live diagonally behind our house.   The four of them get along very well, needing almost no parental interactions to mediate conflicts.   I think this is due in part to the different personalities as well as the age span from three to eight, but either way,  we four parents love how our children can play happily together outside for hours in the afternoons.

I didn’t realize until yesterday that my two children had introduced Rayan and Keira to their imaginary friends.   I was working in the kitchen when I heard the door open and the children come in.   They asked my husband if they could have six glasses of water.    “Six glasses?” we asked.   Keira told us they needed the extra two because Ghi Ghi and Gah Gah were thirsty too.    “Oh, well in that case,” we said.

My husband said he would get a pitcher of water for them and I went into the cabinet and help them select four larger cups for them and two smaller ones for Ghi Ghi and Gah Gah.

As they left to go outside, Keira, the oldest of the four, turned and said to my husband, “there should be seven glasses, but Greyson says Pahmer doesn’t want any water.”

The Big Boy Update:  Due to an unexpected traffic jam I was late to work this morning.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter has had troubles with diarrhea the last few days.    It’s not been bad, but things haven’t been as solid as they normally are.   She’s gotten a bit of a rash  that’s caused things to be uncomfortable and bothersome.   But in all this, instead of telling us she has troubles, she takes care of them herself.   She goes to the bathroom, realizes she got some on her underpants, gets up on the counter and washes them out using soap, wrings them out and then puts them in the laundry basket.   She finds new pants and underwear and then goes back to what she’s been doing.    We’ve been trying to catch her when it happens so we can put some comforting cream on her in the hopes she’ll have a chance to heal.

Nana’s Banana Fudge

With children—or at least with my children—if a thing is someone’s special thing, such as, “pimento cheese is Mimi’s favorite,” there is a much higher chance that thing will be tried, tasted, considered and probably liked by the child.   A resounding recommendation of that funky looking vegetable on the plate from a relative or friend who isn’t even around can make all the difference in outright rejection versus open-mindedness and willingness to sample something new.

So it is with this knowledge that I shamelessly use all of you, my dear friends and relatives who read this blog, (among others) as conduits of high praise and recommendation when it comes to unknown substances or activities with my children.    You wouldn’t believe how many times saying something as simple as “did you know Aunt A. loves to eat cabbage?” will convince a child it just might be worth a try.

My mother and how she raised me to always give people credit, where possible.   She always gave credit to anyone who helped or took part in a thing, even if their contribution was very little, and it always seemed to me to be positive, so I carry on the tradition.

Where was I?  Oh yes, I was going to tell you about ice cream.   I hadn’t gotten to that yet.    We make ice cream in the summer because ice cream is so much fun to make and it’s one of the best tasting parts of summer.   I’ve dabbled around with flavors and this time I decided to try something different I’ve never done before.   I did so mainly because I had some things in my freezer I needed to use up.   First, I had two very old bananas.   They were frozen some months ago because at the time, they were past their prime and they had been waiting, slowly building up sugars as they waited to be used.

The other thing I had was a block of fudge my mother-in-law had made and brought to us months ago.  It may well have been in January, I’m not sure, but I’m pretty sure it was this year.    So, what to do with these aged items?   Make ice cream, that’s what.

My daughter and I got the milk, cream, sugar, vanilla and salt and started the ice cream maker churning. When the ice cream was close to finished freezing, we put in the partially thawed and chopped bananas.    Then, just before it was done, we put in cut up chunks of Nana’s fudge.   I hoped it was going to taste good.

It did.   It definitely tasted good.   The fudge—what was left after my daughter and I ate our fill—was just the right amount of chewy.   The bananas were perfectly soft and flavorful.  My daughter and I invited my husband and son to the kitchen by calling out, “come and have a taste of Nana’s Banana Fudge ice cream!”  She didn’t make the bananas, but her fudge definitely made the ice cream.

Hopefully there will be some left of Nana’s Banana Fudge ice cream when she comes to visit on Friday.

The Big Boy Update:  Last night my son came down in the middle of the night.   He quietly came up to me and said, “mom, I pooped in my pants while I was asleep.”   When he woke me up I was very asleep, so I told him to go to the bathroom and I’d be right there, hoping he’d go away.   I fell back asleep immediately.   He did what I asked him to, went to the bathroom and then waited.   I woke up again in a few minutes to his little face in mine saying, “mom, why aren’t you helping me?”   I got up and helped him.   He was rather forlorn about the whole thing happening while he was asleep.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  The past few days my daughter has been asking us while we’re driving, “can we go the speed lemon?”  Tonight we explained it was a “limit.”  I think she likes the idea of a lemon better.

Fitness Update:  Seven mile run this morning.   I remembered how to run.   I hadn’t done so since before vacation.

Gravity

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Library Visit:
We did something today we’ve never done before: I took my children to the library.    I think every single mother in my neighborhood has taken their children to the reading story book time (or whatever it is they call it) at one of the various public libraries around us, but I haven’t ever seemed to make it.

I have nothing against the library, we’ve had the great fortune of being given books from many friends as well as my husband and I have our own childhood book collections to pull from.    There is that, and the desire young children have to have the same book read to them again and again, every night, for a week or more before they’re “done” with it.

Today I got in the car and followed my neighbor to the closest library which is exactly one left turn and one parking lot away from the neighborhood in which we live.   It is maybe a six minute drive.    We walked in: two adults and four boisterous children, and were happy to have all four children respect the quiet atmosphere in the library.   We went to the children’s area and then I left my two with my neighbor while I went to do something important:  I had to get a library card.   I didn’t have one.   I know, right?

I came back to find my son and his friend, Whittaker, who is only two, happily looking at some books.   I read two books to them while my neighbor read books to her daughter and my daughter.    Then, we had a bathroom issue.   I will not go into the details, but my daughter, “couldn’t quite make it” as she put it and so we left her underpants in the trash can in the rest room.    (Thankfully they were an old pair.)

When I came out of the rest room it was clear it was almost time to go home.   I almost rose my voice at that point because my daughter was happily pulling her skirt—she doesn’t commonly wear skirts—over her head.   Remember the bit about the underpants in the trash can?  So the skirt over the head bit wasn’t exactly ideal library behavior.

It was then that I noticed my neighbor was planning on checking out some books for her children.    I asked my son which two books he would like.    He brought me one titled, “Gravity” which was a little too old for him, but had fun looking pictures on the front.   I suggested he bring home the on about super loud voices because I thought that story would be a good fit for him.

I turned to ask my daughter if she’d like to pick out two books.   My neighbor said at that point, “these are the ones she’s picked out,” pointing to a large pile of books on the bench.   I hadn’t bothered to tell my children about the ordering of the books and how they should only pull out one book at a time and to, well, basically not wreck the entire collection because someone was going to have to put them back—in dewey decimal order—and that person was likely going to be cursing the little girl in the pink tutu without underpants when they did.

My daughter selected two books and we headed to the counter to check them out.    The lady at the desk was very helpful in telling me how I could renew the books up to eight times.   I explained that most of these books had fifteen pages or less and if we couldn’t get through them in two weeks, I didn’t think renewing eight more times was going to really help in the grand scheme of things.   She smiled and said have a nice day.

We got home and then lots of things happened.   Time went by and it got late, but right before bedtime my son wanted to read the Gravity book.   He remembered it and he wanted to know all about gravity.   My husband read it to him, including visual demonstrations he made up on the fly, and my son was interested the entire time.    I think he’s going to want to hear about gravity again tomorrow night.

Maybe he’ll be so interested in Gravity we’ll have to renew the book loan?

How Many Calories Did I Eat?

My son was eating a snack the other day.   As he finished his granola bar he asked me, “how many calories did I eat?”   My son is four and has no need to know about calories or how much he is or isn’t eating, but he sees his father, me, our friends and parents talking about food all the time.    Children don’t have filters, so they hear it all and if it’s something important to the people around them, they think it’s important to them too.

So I told him how many calories were in the granola bar and told him he was very fortunate that he didn’t have to worry about how much he ate, but if he wanted to know any more calories he could ask us.  A bit later in the morning he ate a banana and wanted to know about calories in it.  

My husband and I have been very successful losing weight and trying to be more healthy.   Until I was over thirty-years-old, I could eat whatever I wanted without gaining any weight.   I think it was largely because I ate when I was hungry, stopped eating when I was full and didn’t over eat just because something was delicious.

I want to make sure our children approach food with a healthy mindset.   We’re striving for healthy mindset as well as healthy food choices.   We don’t eat all healthy choices, in fact we have days that have downright unhealthy selections all day long, but we’re working on a balance and good habits.    I hope we make the right decisions as we raise our children when it comes to food.

The Big Boy Update:  We were driving to the zoo yesterday when my son called out from the back seat, “do you know which part of this song I like?”  I hadn’t been paying particular attention to the song on the radio up until then but when I realized what song it was, I could guess which part he meant.   I told him to let me know when he heard it again.   When the chorus came around, he said, “this is the part!”   I agreed, it was a good part of the song.   In a few years maybe we’ll play Third Eye Blind’s “Never Let You Go”  song and see if he still likes the same part.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  “A few days ago.”   My daughter was telling a story and my husband said afterwards to me, “did you catch that?”   She had (for the first time we think) indicated a time in the past that was something other than, “yesterday.”    Until now, everything in the past, including when I was a baby, for example, was under the heading of “yesterday” in her mind.

About Being Shy

I put this topic on my list a while back, after either hearing someone talk (or write) about how they were shy when they were younger, but are much more outgoing now.    I had a long conversation about shyness with neighbor during one of our long runs.    She has said to me many time that she’s shy.   I’ve told her equally many time I don’t see it. 

Now granted, I do understand where she is coming from.   She is shy, or at least feels shy, in certain situations.    She doesn’t enjoy walking into a room of strangers and engaging in conversation.    She is though a physician who interacts with patients, co-workers, neighbors and friends each day and she handles those interactions with confidence, caring and ease.      But that doesn’t mean she’s not shy, and although I don’t see it on a daily basis, I do understand what she means. 

We’ve run races together.   I have a tendency to suddenly engage random people about something or other while we run.   And while she will happily initiate and say a cheery “hello,” she isn’t inclined to start a conversation.

Our discussion got me thinking about how I’m shy.   And for those that know me who are thinking, “hold the phone, you can’t be serious, because you’re just not shy—at all.”  I would almost unilaterally agree in that in most all situations, I’m not shy.   I’m confident enough to walk into most any room and have no difficulty walking up to a group and joining into the conversation.     But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand shyness.

When I was younger, I was more shy, or at least shy in more situations.   Is that what happens to us as we grow older and more perspective on life?

The Big Boy Update:  My son played some sort of pillow/tickle fight with his uncle Eric and cousin Nicole today.   I say back and watched for over ten minutes, just laughing at the fun the three of them were having.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter helped her cousin Nicole practice her tennis serves tonight.   She collected the balls and brought them back to her to serve again.   My son was less helpful: he just collected and hoarded the balls.

Fitness Update:  I ran the Insane Inflatables Atlantic City 5K today.   I came in third.   Not third place, third across the finish line.   I started in the first wave on the front row and a lot of people were walking the race.   It was lots of fun, although the high grass was rough to run on.   Afterwards I helped out in the Kona Ice truck until lunch.

They Don’t Stop Moving

We’ve been on vacation with the children this week at the beach.   We’ve done things like going to the park, visiting the beach, going out on the boat, taking a trip to the zoo, walking to ice cream, walking to Polish Water Ice and walking to the other ice cream shop.  (We like ice cream.)

Because I’ve been doing things like eating donuts, cinnamon buns, snacks, ice cream and more ice cream, I’ve been trying to counteract my calorie intake with calorie burn.   One of the ways I’ve been doing this is by working in walking distance while the kids are, for instance, playing on the playground.   I’ve been able to walk distances upwards of two miles, simply from walking around and around (and around) the playground yard while they play.

I was on the beach with the children and my husband yesterday watching the children climb up and down on a sand dune.   I told my husband we cold walk back and forth a while since the children were occupied.   He said, “are you still trying to get exercise in today?”   (I had spent some time on the elliptical already.)  I told my husband I had been thinking about kids and how they can eat anything.

I told him, “have you every noticed how children don’t stop moving?”  We talked about the adults at the beach, many of whom were sitting on chairs or blankets.   The children were all either in the water, running in the surf, digging sand castles or picking up sea shells.    I told my husband I had been trying to just keep moving in situations when it was easier to stay seated as an adult.

Who sits on the benches at the playground?  The adults do.  Who relaxes on blankets at the park?  The adults do.   In fact, the only time I see the children sitting is when they’re eating or have gotten so tired they’re falling asleep.

The Big Boy Update: My children were sharing a two-person wagon ride with their new friend, Charlie Ann, on the way to dinner.   My son got out to let Charlie Ann get in with his sister.   As he walked away he said to the two girls, “okay, now you guys can talk about princess stuff.”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We had an overage of crab meat this week and have been discussing for a several days what to make with it.   We decided on crab cakes and were planning on making them for dinner last night.    After a lot of discussion my daughter started chiming in, explaining how we could put “a little icing on them but not too much icing because then it wouldn’t be so good for you.”  It was only at that point that I realized she thought we’d been talking about dessert all this time.   I had to break the news to here there would be no cake after dinner.    We made it up to her with some ice cream.

Fitness Update:  I did an hour on the elliptical machine today, which felt like fifteen minutes with the television on.

Ambisinister

I have the Dictionary.com app on my phone.   I look up words from time to time because I like words.   But my favorite thing is the word of the day notification.    A lot of times I know the word, but look at the definition anyway because I have an idea what the word means but couldn’t explain it clearly to someone else if they asked.  

Today’s word was ambisinister.   It sounds like an ominous word so I checked it out.  It turns out I’m ambisinister (or at least I would class myself as such.)  It means, “clumsy or unskillful with both hands.”  

I have nerve damage in my spine that makes my hands partially numb.   I am classically clumsy with my hands, causing me to drop things more often than I feel I should.    

I’m not sure how I’d work the word ‘ambisinister’ into conversation though…

The Big Boy Update:  My son decided a few days ago that he has a laser penis.   I do not know where he got the idea, but he’s holding firm to it.  He runs around and attacks his niece and nephew and claims he’s attaching them with his laser penis.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter wanted to get involved with exercising this morning while I was on the elliptical machine.   She got an exercise band with handles from the corner.   She spent time wrapping around her body in various binding positions.   She would then do ten “reps” of some exercise before moving to the next “exercise.”  I wish I’d gotten pictures of some of the ways she wrapped herself up.

Fitness Update:   I did two hours on the elliptical this morning while watching television.   I think I could stay on the machine for longer with the mental distraction of the television.    It’s a good workout.

Boat and Beach Day

Big Boy Tiny Girl Day at the Beach Update:
We’re visiting my brother- and sister-in-law’s house this week.   We’ve been in the hot tub, taken children to the beach in the wagon, gone out on a jet ski ride and jumped into the lagoon.   We’ve gone to multiple ice cream and treat locations, had friends and relatives over for dinner and spent a lot of time together, having fun with our family.

Usually, one day when we’re visiting each year we get into their boat and go to the inlet, which is what we did today.    My brother- and sister-in-law’s house is on the bay side of the island they live on.   They live on a lagoon channel and the back of their house sports a dock on which they park their boat, jet skis, paddle boards and other beach gear.  

Its possible to get to the beach by getting in the boat and/or just skis, navigating out of the lagoons and into the channel.   From there you can follow the channel to one of the ends of the island where there is an inlet where the sound meets the ocean.    Today, that’s just what we did.

My son wanted to ride on the jet ski with daddy and my daughter wanted to ride in the boat with me.  We left late afternoon with my son and husband bringing up the rear.   My daughter was interested in the boat ride and watching her cousin Kyle in front of us on the other jet ski.  I told her we were going to go fast when we got out of the no wake zone and to watch for Kyle, because when he went fast, we’d go next.

When we started to accelerate she got very excited.   She threw her hands in the air and started to chatter.  I couldn’t understand what she was saying, but it went on and on and she was excited.    After that, my husband and son passed us.   She waved excitedly at them and they waved back.  

We got to the inlet and parked the boat and jet skis on the shore about fifteen minutes later.   Both of my children were happy to get into the sand.   I was not happy at all to see them immediately start making sand angles in their life jackets, but since it was making them happy, I didn’t complain.

We decided to go off, “on an adventure” and walk towards the surf.    We ended up split up where I was with my son.   He and I spent about an hour moving slowing around the beach.   I would show my son crab and horseshoe crab carapaces, clam shells, strange sticks, holes in the sand, etc., and he would come and look.    He would then go off and do his own thing, mostly with sticks, mostly talking about saving (or was it blowing up?) the world.

When we got back it was time to get back on the boat and jet skis and head to our dinner location, which we drove up to on the sound and at tables just off the sand.   My children’t weren’t into dinner as much as they were getting back to the sand.

After dinner we headed home.   I got the children washed off and put into pajamas because it was almost bed time.   I think they’ll sleep soundly tonight.

Fitness Update:  I walked very slowly on the beach for two miles and then ran around a pool table (literally) for twenty minutes tonight.   I ate two Mrs. Brizzle’s Buns, which means I was in sugar shock most of the day to do any more exercise.

Thanksgiving in August

We had thanksgiving dinner tonight.  My brother- and sister-in-law made us dinner in the classic thanksgiving style.    They had a turkey from months ago they’d been meaning to cook.    They started cooking early and we all say down to eat that evening.

They made their favorite stuffing recipe, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, and corn.   We were served Uncle Eric’s homemade beer to accompany the meal.    (My children had cranberry juice.)

While they cooked during the day I removed the meat from about thirty blue claw crab we’d cooked live the night before.   It took me several hours, but we have a lot of meat.   Tomorrow or later this week we’re going to make crab cakes and crab dip.

Both the cooking and the eating of the meal was a delightful experience, although I have several cuts on my hands from the crabs, but it was worth it.

The Big Boy Update:  My uncle was putting a poultice on his lower back and when my son smelled it he decided to call him, “Minty Fresh Eric.”  Later, for no apparent reason at all, my nephew came home from football and my son said, “hi, Stinky Kyle!”  

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  While we were at the park yesterday I told my daughter it was time to go to the bathroom.   She didn’t want to go and said, “I’m too tired to walk.”   Three seconds later she said, “let’s run!”

Fitness Update:  My husband and I walked three-and-a-half miles after dinner.   After the dinner we had tonight, we really needed to walk twelve miles.  We saw not one, but three rainbows at the same time over the ocean with a sunset in the other direction.

I’ve Been in These Clothes ALL Day

We left at lunch on Friday to drive to my brother- and sister-in-law’s house.   We knew it was going to be a long drive and we weren’t disappointed.   There was traffic before Washington, D.C., during it, after it and beyond.    We tried to time our trip so the traffic would be less versus more, but it was still a long trip.

We arrived after the sun had set and every member of my family was joyfully jumped out of the car to let their bodies move freely, unencumbered by seat belts.  The adults brought in the luggage while the children told stores, ran around and had fun laughing and playing with my relatives.  

I am the unpacker.   I like the job because I like getting settled and situated when we arrive somewhere.   I’m also good at it because I packed everything and I’ve already envisioned how to unpack it all.   It’s just one of those things I do well because of my inclination to organize everything.  

When I got everything unpacked I went into our room to settle in for the night.   I took off my clothes with a high level of distaste.  I thought, “Ugh, I’ve been in these clothes ALL day.”   The clothes felt dirty and over-worn.  

But they weren’t, really.   I put them on shortly before we left at Noon.   I wear clothes all the time for hours longer in a day than those particular clothes.   It wasn’t the clothes so much as the weariness I felt in them from the long, draining, constricting day of travel.

The Big Boy Update:  My son told his aunt, “Reese loves to sing; I love to fight.”   I think this is a very, very accurate summary of my two children.   My daughter sings quite a lot and my son likes to battle in whatever way he can with friends and family.   He loves it.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter has decided to go to bed two of the last three nights on vacation here.   She stands up, says, “I’m going to bed” and walks to her room.  She’s never done this before at home or on vacation.  

Fitness Update:  I did another two mile walk around the playground while my children played for an hour.   Then I spend an hour-forty minutes on the Nordic Track while the children played in the room around me.   I really like the Nordic Track.

Walk in Seventy-Eight Seconds

We’ve been biking the children to school and for fun from time to time for a while now.   While on our excursions we commonly run into an intersection where we need to cross traffic on a busy road.   We’ve taught the children how to push the walk button and that we don’t cross with the yellow hand. When the white walking man appears, they know it’s time to cross.  

We’ve done some walking on trips as well.   On this trip, we’ve walked to the beach and the playground and had to cross multiple streets with stop lights.    They know how to find the button and they’re getting good at watching the numbers count down to know how much time we have left to cross.

On the way to visit our family a few days ago, we were using Waze for traffic updates.   I could write another post on Waze, but for now, let’s just say we had poor traffic conditions for a good distance around Washington, D.C.  We decided to follow Waze’s advice and go through town.    As we followed the route, we discovered we were driving right by the capitol, which my children were underwhelmed to see.

We made an early turn shortly after that and ended up on a smaller street, parallel to the main street.   We turned back and found ourselves waiting at a long light.   We’d been sitting there for a while when my husband looked up and said, “I think we’re going to be waiting for a while.”   I asked him why and he said, “because the crosswalk is counting down and it’s still at seventy-eight.”

The most I’ve ever seen on a cross walk is twenty seconds.   I guess we live in a smaller town than Washington, D.C.

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Water Bottle Update:  My children love their water bottles.   They use them at school and we keep them in our refrigerator at home so they can get to them when they’re thirsty.  On vacation here, we moved some condiments from the bottom shelf in their refrigerator so the children could reach their water bottles.   They go to them frequently.   They like water.   I am glad they like water.   I wish I liked water more and flavored beverages less.

Fitness Update:  I did a lot of walking today and I tried to work out how to do some exercises on the Bow Flex which was a marginal success.   Then, I did an hour on the Nordictrac.   It’s an elliptical, but it’s geared differently or something because it feels different than other ellipticals.   It’s a tougher workout, but fun.

The Found Pacifier

Lately we’ve been putting a selection of books in the back seat pockets of the chairs in our car so the children have something look at while we drive places.   They talk about the books, swap books back and forth and do a lot of accidentally dropping the books on the floor and then not understanding why we can’t get it for them while we’re driving.  

I had planned on putting some new books they’d never seen before in the car the morning of our trip. The day before, I was cleaning out the back pocket while my children were in the car and found something at the bottom of the pouch in front of where my daughter was sitting.   I brought out an old pacifier that had likely been sitting in there for two years.

She knew exactly what it was and was excited about it.   She wanted it.   It was they type her brother used, but it was a pacifier and she had memories of soothing times and happy sleep and she wanted to see this thing.   I wiped it off and handed it to her to see what she discovered.

She put it in her mouth and tried, very hard, to get back into the rhythm of sucking it for a minute or two and then took it out.    She didn’t quite remember how the sucking motion worked anymore.    Her brother had been watching and realized she had his pacifier and said he wanted it next.    I cleaned it off and let him have a turn.   He tried too, this time for a little longer than she did, but ultimately he’s moved on from being able to suck a pacifier like he did when he was younger.

I’ll keep this pacifier to remember the days when they were tiny.    It was interesting to see how they remembered the pacifier too and how they weren’t upset that it didn’t work for them anymore.

The Big Boy Update:  After arriving at our family’s home late last night, my children woke up this morning, excited to play with toys and their cousins.   My son and daughter were doing something with their back packs they’d packed before we left.   My son ran in the room with his backpack on and said, “me and Reese are playing ‘Out of Town.’”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was hot in the car on our long drive north yesterday.   She had asked for the cold air to be on and then followed up, saying, “I need a thousand scoops of air.”

Fitness Update:  I’m on vacation this week but I discovered this morning my brother- and sister-in-law have an elliptical machine and a Bow Flex (remember those?) in their house.   I spent an hour on the elliptical and then walked about four miles in the afternoon to the playground, ice cream and then back home with the children.  I think I still may have overeaten.   There’s nothing like vacation and eating lots of food while hanging out with family.

The Punching Bag

We spent last Sunday with good friends of ours.   They have four girls aging from nine to three.   Whenever we’re together the children all play and get along, but my son, the only male, is sometimes the odd one out.   He enjoys and looks forward to playing with them, but his idea of playing isn’t always what the other girls want to do.

When we were over at their house in the afternoon he found a tool box filled with all sorts of children versions of power tools.   He was so excited.   He tried to get the other girls to play with him, but they were more interested in other pursuits.   I was told by the twins, who are now nine, last summer that, “we are really girly girls and we like girly things.”   They told me this when I offered up our car movie collection to see if there were any they might like.    We had a lot of movies and they weren’t particularly male-oriented, they were mostly Disney and Pixar hits, but they weren’t “girly enough.”

Back to the power tools, I had found out later my neighbor’s husband had bought them to try and diversify the children’s interests, but it hadn’t been that successful so far.    My son was bitterly disappointed he couldn’t take them home (even though three of the girls wanted him to keep them.)

My son also seems to have a need to be physical more than my daughter does.   He wants to make contact with other bodies in an aggressive way.   He’s got a lot of, “Gaaarrr!” action in him (I don’t know what that word means, but I can see my son saying it and running at someone in excitement so I’m going with the word for now.)

While we were all out earlier in the day we went to a school supply store for tax free weekend.  All six of our children were having a very exciting time looking at the toys, educational items, books, art projects and other merchandise at the store.   There were indoor things and outdoor things and lots of demonstration models were out to try.   The older children knew this was an opportunity to select one or twelve things and explain how they just couldn’t live without the item being bought for them.   My children haven’t gotten to that age yet so they just played with all the toys that were out.

And that’s when my so found the punching bag.   There were boxing gloves he could easily slide on and then a punching bag on a stick that bounced back and forth on a weighted base as you hit it.    We showed him the gloves and he was hooked.   My friend’s husband who bought the power tools for his girls came over and started punching with him.   They were killing this punching bag.   My son was getting out all sorts of physical energy and he was happy.

I looked at my husband and we decided to check out the price.   It wasn’t expensive, it was actually quite reasonable so we bought it.     We have the punching bag in our living room right now and it gets punched every day on a relatively regular basis.  

I have the same expectations for my children, but sometimes I realize gender plays a role that shapes them differently and I’m working on embracing that and helping them be successfully and if that means a punching bag in our living room, then that works for me.

The Big Boy Update:  My son loves to punch the new punching bag.   He likes to hit it with his hands, the gloves, his feet and even other objects in the room.   He rarely walks by it without taking a swat at it.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  We were eating lunch today while on the road.   Everything was quiet and calm, but we had had some difficulties and strong feelings before the food arrived due to hunger issues.    Food was served and everyone was quietly eating when my daughter suddenly said, “Mom, could you not be mean?”   I guess I’d been having some strong feelings too.

The Broken Stall Door

When I go shopping for clothes I typically go to one store first.   It’s a department store in the shopping mall close to us.   I go there because the selection is significant and I can usually find what I need (and like) without having to go anywhere else, even leaving the store to venture out into the mall proper.

I went not long ago, perhaps two to three weeks, and got a few items.   At that time I went into the dressing room area to find three stalls.   The largest stall had the door hanging ajar so I went in and turned to shut the door to find the door handle almost completely falling off.   It was holding on, but only because the two screws attaching the inner and outer halves were so long.  

These screws were out so far, you could grab them with your index finger and thumb easily.   I took the door handle halves, pushed them against the door and did just that for both the top and bottom screws.   I couldn’t get it completely tight because I didn’t have a screwdriver on me, but using my fingers alone I could get the handle back into a wobbly but functional piece of hardware.

I either bought or didn’t buy a shirt (I don’t remember) and then went to meet my husband for lunch.   That was a while back.   Today I decided to try one more time at that same department store to see if they’d gotten in any shorts that could hold my iPhone 6 without having it fall out when I sat down that was in a position that also wasn’t uncomfortable when sitting.    I went to the store, found two candidate shorts and went back to the dressing room area.

I walked in to see the same stall door still in it’s hobbled state.   In the time since I’d last been there no one had bothered to call about the door issue and as people used it, the loose screws came out along the threads a little more each time.   I tried on the shorts after re-screwing in the handle screws and then left.

Some things are complicated to fix, might require parts or need a level of expertise beyond general knowledge.   I just don’t understand why something as simple as using a screw driver to tighten screws continues to go reported and unfixed.  

Maybe it’s just me but I like things to work they way they’re supposed to work.   In fact, when things don’t work the way they should, it bothers me enough to spurn me into action, even if that broken thing might not be mine.   Maybe the next time I go shopping I’ll bring a screw driver with me.

The Big Boy Update:  My son wanted to hear a song on the way to school this morning.   He was having a hard time explaining, but I understood it was something that played on dad’s cell phone.   Finally I realized he wanted to hear the song that played for my husband’s alarm music.   Fortunately, it was an actual song and not just a sound byte and double fortunately, I happened to have the song on my phone as well.    We played the song loudly in the car on the way to camp and my son is trying to decide if it’s his new favorite song.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Flip flops with back straps.  My daughter wants to wear flip flops, but she needs to get some skills in wearing them first.   The flip flops for children her age have an additional strap that goes around your heel.   I told her if she could walk well with the shoes in that fashion, I’d cut the straps off.  I also told her her friend, Gigi, already knew how to walk without the straps.   I wonder if that will be any sort of motivation to her?   For now, the shoes are kicked off and on the floor.

Fitness Update:  I took an Aleve this morning several hours before I ran and then rolled out my shin aggressively just before running.   It was sore, but the rolling out helped.   I think the NSAID helped too, although it was still painful from the start of mile two until the end of mile three.   It was that exact window before that I dealt with when I had shin splints over a year ago.   Hopefully taking this coming week off from running will help.    Oh, and I ran seven miles this morning.

Penguins

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Penguin Update:

My children were penguins tonight.   This post is about the two of them and their evening as flightless waterfowl.

We took the children to scientist camp (or mad scientist camp as I’ve been calling it) this morning.   I’m not sure what experiment they did today and when or how penguins got on their minds, but around dinner time that was the only game in the house.

I couldn’t figure out if it was something they talked about with their sitter at the pool in the afternoon or if there was experimentation with ice at school (camp) but penguins they insisted they were, regardless.

They both were walking like penguins—and here is where I had to do some chasing down of them both, because much as they thought they were walking like penguins, they weren’t even remotely close.     When I finally got their attention (the naked, giggly one and the loud, yelling other one) I gave them a demonstration on what a penguin walk was meant to look like when attempted by a middle-aged adult.   This brought on intense laughter and immediate attempts to copy my motions.

And they did fairly well for three- and four-year-olds.   I didn’t have the heart to tell them that under no circumstances (outside of a body of water) did penguins move that quickly.   I also didn’t want to tell them they were going to need a good lesson in how to speak penguin, because no self-respecting penguin would make sounds like that, even in the middle of the most exuberant of mating rituals.

Then (and this was after the third reminder I might add) and only then did they make their way towards the bathroom for the bath I had been telling them it was time to have.   But wait, about face, penguins liked ice.  Yes, they did, if they remembered correctly, like ice and what penguins most needed in their end of day bath was a lot of ice to keep them cold.  

Fortunately, “a lot of ice” amounted to three or four cubes.   It was at the moment of entering the bath tub that the spell of penguin must have been broken because at that point, they were just interested in the new bath gel pens I’d found at the dollar store.

I wonder what their penguin names were?

Fitness Update:  I have a sudden shin splint on my left shin that is murder for the first three miles.  It was so bad this morning I had to walk three times.    I’m on vacation next week and have all ideas I won’t do a darn thing exercise-wise so maybe whatever it is will right itself.

Dinner Out

We just got in from having dinner out with some neighbors in our neighborhood.   We’ve met them on multiple occasions and have intersected with them socially at neighborhood events, but really didn’t know them.   Our evening tonight was predicated on one thing we both have in common: an interest in solar technology.

We’ve been looking at installing solar on our houses and we both have an interest in Tesla Motor Company.   After a few emails, we decided to go out to dinner and from that we decided to go out to a nice dinner without children.  

We had a few interests in common but we had a great time talking on all manner of topics (although solar, Tesla Motor Company and Elon Musk were repeat topics.)   We had a lovely evening and I hope we’ll get a chance to get together again sometime.   Perhaps we’ll both have solar panels installed and get together to talk about that?

The Big Boy Update:  My son got sent to his room today because he saw friends in our back yard.   Instead of being exited and going outside to play (he was currently angry at not getting his way,) he opened the deck door and said some mean things to the unexpected friends about never wanting to play with them again.   He went to his room and was there for some time, miserable, until he was properly repentant.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter is working on flip flops.   She is not sure her toes like them.   She’s reverted to sandals, without anything between her toes.   Tomorrow maybe she’ll try again.

Fitness Update:  Seven miles with some strange shin splints in my left leg only.   Odd, because I’ve had no symptoms at all for a long time.

You Must Be Driving a Tesla

I drove up to the Starbucks drive through this morning and the person on the other end of the mic said, “you must be driving a Tesla, because I didn’t hear you drive up.”  I laughed, told him next time I would make some, Rrrr Rrrr engine sounds if that would help.   He chuckled and said that would be great.

When I picked up my drink I asked him if he had a lot of Tesla cars drive through.  He said there were a few, but it was the complete silence coupled with a ding that told him I had pulled around.

I drove to school and happened to arrive at the same time as a friend who had just gotten a Tesla only a few weeks before.   I told her the story and said,  “I suspect a camera, even though I can’t find evidence of one.  Either way, it’s a great story and I had to share it with a fellow Tesla owner.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has said before that Pahmer is, “small as a mouse.”   Pahmer’s size has always remained fairly constant in his mind it seems, but he’s able to do size comparisons more easily now.   When he saw his vitamin in what was clearly a representational image of Pahmer (or Barney Rubble) it changed how he described him.   He was telling me the next morning how Pahmer was, “big as a mouse.”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter started talking about things she liked on the way to camp this morning.  She told us she liked the sky; she told us she liked the sun and then she told us she liked the  ‘white part.’   When we got to camp she rethought her comment and said, “the clouds, I like the clouds too.”

Mom, I Want to Read the Book

My children can’t read yet.   They can recognize letters and they know the sounds those letters make, but they’re not reading yet.   They’re not reading in part because we’re not trying to make them read. I don’t know if they would be able to read some or more if we had sat at home during the afternoons, drilling letters and sounds and asking them to do practice in what would ultimately lead to reading.    Academics will come, but a love of learning can be squashed pretty early by taking learning—something that’s natural that all children want to do—and making it compulsory.

Have you seen a child push a toy broom on the floor or get a cloth and try to wipe up beside you because they see you doing so?   Are they doing it because sweeping and cleaning is fun or because children innately are driven to learn?   Nurturing a natural desire and love of learning is one of the tenants of a Montessori education.   And while I’m not black and white on what is and what isn’t “true Montessori,” I agree that it’s more fun to want to do a math problem because you want to feel successful at solving the ferociously difficult quadratic equation than it is to grumble and moan through homework because it’s, “a terrible punishment of childhood.”

Wow, that was one unexpected soap box I just got off of.   This blog has a way of sending me down lines of mental thought I had no idea I was even conjuring up in my brain.   When I started the paragraph the idea wasn’t even in my mind and then as I rounded off the last sentence I looked back and thought, “where in hell did that come from?”  At any rate, let’s talk about reading books.

So my children can’t read.  At all.   But they love books and they love books to be read to them.   Lately my children have been wanting to, “read the book.”  My husband has been nurturing this for a while by reading more simple books to them as well as using his finger to trace under the words as he reads them.   We had tried this some time back but they were too young and didn’t even care that those squiggles actually meant something.     But now they know they mean something and that something can be figured out if you can read.

I pulled out a collection of the level one reader books we got from other friends in the past and each child “read” a book at bed tonight.   I would point to the words, read them and then they would read them a second time while I pointed to the words.    They are really going to like reading when they learn how.

The Big Boy Update:  My neighbor’s girls had gotten this Aquabeads craft thing.   It involves taking small plastic beads, putting them on a small, hexagonal grid very meticulously and then connecting them together.   It’s slow and doing a small project like a heart takes concentration and time.  My son saw the little beads and immediately wanted to do something.   My neighbor, ever the positive person that she is, said, “what would you like to make?”  My son said, “I want to make a Viking killing a bear.”   My neighbor and I laughed out loud.   We couldn’t stop laughing.  By the time we stopped laughing my son had found a tool belt and a plastic drill set to play with in the tool box.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter is responsible for the title of this blog post.   She’s the reason I got out all the level one readers so we could read books together tonight.   While we were reading the second book, my son asked me a question and he and I got off subject.   My daughter sighed heavily and said, “can we get back to the book?”

Fitness Update:  I ran eight miles in the house today.  Don’t even ask, it’s a lot of figure eights around the main floor of the house.   I get a lot of television listened in.  I wouldn’t called it ‘watching television’ because I only catch a small portion of the show as I jog by.    It was the only opportunity I was going to have to exercise today and I couldn’t leave the children.   My husband was out on a bike ride with friends.  I hear he had a great twenty mile ride.

Two Degrees

We keep our house at what is a comfortable temperature to us.   We’ve adjusted what temperature works for us over time.   We’ve tried to have the house a little warmer in the summer and cooler in the winter than we did from last year.   Or at least I think we’re doing this.   My husband says, “that’s what we did last year,” and I say something like, “no, no, we kept it cooler, I swear we did.”   There’s no knowing now, but for this summer season at least, we’re at a higher temperature than we were at some point.

We have thermostats that can change what temperature you prefer at different times of the day.  One thing we both agreed on was keeping the house a little cooler at night.   In the winter, this is easy because you just heat less.   In the summer, you’re cooling still, but it’s also cooling off outside.   It’s all energy consumption, but were thinking of balancing our comfort with our energy usage where we can.

For a while I was waking up hot in the middle of the night.   This was strange because I hadn’t been doing so before.   I got up, groggy, to look at the thermostat to see it was holding at the daytime temperature instead of the nighttime one.   It was only two degrees different, but that two degrees was the difference in sleeping soundly all night versus waking up hot and uncomfortable.

It took me about a week to get around to reprogramming the thermostat because I was half-asleep when I would tap down the temperature by two degrees in the middle of the night.   In the morning I would have forgotten.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has fallen in love apparently.   He came home on Friday and asked me, “can I write a letter to Ada Sillings that says, ‘I love you’?”

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter has this uncanny ability to make the seat of any pair of pants brown.   This is not because she is soiling them internally, on the contrary, she’s quite good at making it to the bathroom before accidents of that nature occur.   She just loves to sit in the dirt or mulch or grass or sand and play with what she finds on the ground.   I think she drags across the ground as well.    It’s a good thing she grows so quickly or I’d have to move to all black pants and skirts to hide the dirt.

Fitness Update:  We ran eighteen miles this morning.   We’re running in a marathon in November and wanted to do a test of our level of readiness.   We had run fourteen recently and ran eight to ten miles regularly.   We planned on eighteen and decided we could have gone to twenty without a problem.   If pushed, we could have done the marathon.    I think I’m not overly concerned about training up to the distance now.   We’ll just stretch out some longer runs as we get closer to the race.