Um, What Am I Wearing?

This morning after feeding the dog I let her out to do her morning business.  Until very recently, we have been the only house on our street and the next house is a good bit further than a street away.  We have to, "walk around the block" to see neighbors.

We're excited the lots on both sides of us are being cleared with the prospect of real neighbors in the foreseeable future.  The dog is excited stuff is happening.  She's excited to run out the front door, run barking straight towards the heavy machinery and the guy with the chainsaw to say, "hi, that's my yard you know."

So out mama follows her, chiding myself for not remembering and leashing her for the trip.  I walked over to the workers carrying my coffee and saying hello.  I found the dog and was herding her back to the house when I suddenly though, "what am I wearing?!" 

There's no reason to look pretty or even have on proper clothes to get the mail when there's no one who can see you.  I could have been in my sleeping clothes chatting with these nice guys.  It was a brief moment of panic before I remembered I had showered and was dressed for the day.   Relief.


The Big Boy Update:  Fever.  Of unknown cause.  Going to the doctor now before a weekend out of town with his grandparents to make sure he's not got something we need to address like an ear infection.  He's been unusually calm and sweet and likes to sit on the couch with you until the Tylenol takes effect and then he's run around crazy baby until it wears off.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  She's practicing crawling in her bed.  I come upstairs in the morning and she's on all fours rocking back and fourth trying to figure out how to move.  Oh, and my husband figured out how she turned on the mobile the one time as he saw her in action.  With her feet after rotating 180 degrees.  Smart girl.

Breakfast On The Porch

I've never had a porch before.  We had a deck growing up and we used to eat out on the picnic table for dinner when the weather was nice.  My parents still have that same picnic table which is going on forty years old now.  When my dad makes something, he makes it well.  He put in the deck when I was little more than a baby and he used redwood.  It's held up well and the picnic table he made at the same time is still going strong.  There's still nothing like having dinner at my parents on that picnic table of memories.

We have a covered porch at our house now.  We put a little table out there and I love to feed the children outside.  The weather is hot now, but it's not that hot in the morning and the sounds of nature down the little hill in the back of our house towards the creek are just lovely.

Of late, we've had exciting times on each side of us.  The two empty lots won't be empty for long as construction has just begun.  We have had fun watching trees fall down with the powerful pull and push of an excavator.  My son thinks the large machinery is thrilling to watch while he eats his meals.

Lunches are nice out on the porch out of the direct sun and dinners outside make you feel like you're a little closer to nature and are a nice way to spend the evening before, "run around like a crazy baby time" to kill the remaining day's energy before bedtime. 

The weather may not be so clement in the coming months of summer, but for now I'm really loving meals on the deck.


The Big Boy Update:  New Shoes.  His best shoes got retired after I realized they were pulling back his big toe nail.  The next sized shoes are a little large and don't stay on well, so I decided to take a more experienced route for purchasing the next pair.  The Crocs are great and light and waterproof and he loves them, but I wanted to get something to give him arch support.  His feet are very flat which is apparently normal as babies don't develop arches until they're several years old.  But better posture in his feet will help with his knees which are a little knocked-kneed now.  Or at least that's my completely non-expert opinion and plan.  So we went to the experts at Stride Rite and got him some shoes that fit him well, that he can grow into.  We got him some adorable ankle socks and he is just the most sportin', stylin' child in his shoes now.  He loves them.  I'm so glad he likes shoes.  Now if only I could get him to like hats...

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Long.  Not tall so much, or at least not for the next few months until she's walking, but she's long.  Uncle Jonathan pointed out the other day that she was not too much shorter in length than her brother.  He said he noticed this when her brother was tackling her on the floor.  And she is long.  I wonder if it's a different growth track or if she'll be taller than him when they're older?

The McDonalds Proximity Perponderance

Call me a bad mommy, but my son loves Happy Meals from McDonald's.  Okay, okay, *I* love McDonald's Happy meals.  Have you seen the little tiny fry container they have now that looks like a mini version of the red cardboard ones for regular meals?  They hold about twelve fries and they're too cute for kids.

So yes, I like my McNuggets and fries and boy, are the little refrigerated apple slices good.  I could eat about twelve packages of those alone.  Maybe it's because I grew up eating McDonald's and it's a known, well-loved collection of flavors.  Maybe it's because a happy meal is perfectly small in calories for a weight-conscious mommy. 

And maybe it's because it's convenient and quick.  As long as I can figure out which one to go to.  From our house we have four that are in close proximity.  Depending on where you're going, or where you're coming from it's sometimes a challenge to decide which one to go to.  "Should I go to that one because there are less traffic lights or should I go to this one because they have a higher volume and they are sometime faster or should I go to the other one because they never get my order wrong?"  Such decisions!

Most commonly, I'll go to the one I've gone to all my life because it's mentally closer than the others.  That one is my, "Home McDonald's" I suppose.   And there's nothing like sitting out on the porch on a sunny day with your children and enjoying dipping nuggets and fries in happiness. 


The Big Boy Update:  Milk routines.  He's drinking milk well now at most times of the day.  We had some battles over not getting milk in a bottle and which sippy cups were "acceptable milk delivery devices" in his mind.  Some chocolate milk was added at times to facilitate the transition.  We no longer use bottles and he's even stopped trying to steal his sister's bottle.  He drinks it for breakfast on occasion and has even fed himself his nighttime milk on the sofa once. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  All Fours.  She's not really crawling yet, but she's moving around a lot.  She can get up on her hands and knees easily, which is more than her brother did at this age.  I think he had bricks in his belly because getting it off the ground took lots of time.  She seems more light and agile than he was. 

EEWWWWIIEE! EEWWWWIIEE!

A week or so ago we had a battery that needed replacing in a smoke detector.  In the middle of the night suddenly there was a blaring, EWWWWIIEE!  EWWWWIIEE!   (If anyone knows how to spell the sound that is the alarming smoke detector, please let me know.)

I know you know the sound though.  It's above a reasonable pitch that's comfortable and yet it's not high enough to bother only the dogs.  It's impossible to ignore, even if you've taken a hearing aid out to go to bed and not be bothered by, "those noisy young'ens."

The sound wasn't for long.  It was long enough for us to bolt out of bed and be thoroughly confused if we were being burgled or burned down.  Five seconds and it stopped.  Blissful silence and then ten seconds later another brief burst of sound.

Now awake, my husband looked around the house at all the smoke alarms.  We have a lot.  Far more than any single house merits.  But code, you know?  There is an alarm system.  There are smoke detectors for that system.  But by code, you still have to have one in every bedroom.  So we have even more.  And these alarms are all buddies.  When one goes off the others hear the keening sound and join in the party.
 
So we're confused.  There is no fire. The smoke alarms are all wired to the house power so they're not in danger of running out of power.  But one is giving a red light like it's unhappy. 

There is a battery backup in case the power is out and you catch fire at that point.  But if it's the backup battery that had issues, then why didn't it just do the replace battery annoying beep?  You know the beep I mean, the beep that starts shortly after you've gone to bed and beeps in long intervals that are about how long it takes you to get to sleep.  It only does this when you're out of spare 9V batteries in the house too.

We don't know what the issue was.  I slept fitfully for the rest of the night expecting to be rousted out of bed at any moment to console scared babies.  Amazingly, they never made a sound through the entire event.

The Big Boy Update:  Bubbles!  Without a doubt, the word of the day is "bubbles."  He knows the word and he's said it from time to time, but when I brought home a great big bubble jar with a large wand did he start chanting it.  He saw it on the counter and said it; I tried to hide it but he figured out where it was and said it.  He said it the whole time we played with the bubbles.  Both whole times.  By the end of the day his enunciation was spot on.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Such a good sleeper.  She can sleep through anything.  Her brother had a tough start of the night last night with gas (or something) that he moaned and wailed through for two hours while we tried to figure out what was going on.  Eventually he went to sleep and didn't make a sound until morning.  She shares a room with him.  The wail/crying was waking me up on the floor below but she slept through the whole thing.

It's Potty Time

This is going to be one of those bodily functions posts.  If it's not for you—although I promise I'll tread lightly—move along to the end to find out what the children have been doing today.

So yes, potty.  We have one.  And we're introducing the babies to it.  The toddler is fascinated with it and is interested in taking the removable—let's call it the "catcher"—component out, then putting it back in and then trying to stand in it.  I can see we're in for some fun adventures in the months to come.

The seven-month-old is sitting up and she's pretty much excited to interact with you when you're right in front of her.  She doesn't seem to care that she's on the "potty" as long as you're there giving her toys to waggle around while you talk to her.

My son is very interested that he gets to be without diapers for a period of time.  He's particularly interested that he's got his own little seat he can sit naked on while looking at books.  So far, he likes to try out several books and re-sit on the potty each time.   From experience, having him run around naked at all makes me nervous, but potty time is going to have to happen sooner or later.  He's interested now, and I'm interested in not changing diapers forever, so we're both fairly motivated.

We have a winner though.  The seven-month-old has amazed me twice today.  Perhaps it's the free air flowing and the missing diaper and the nice little seat with the toys and mamma talking to her, but she saved a wet diaper cycle twice.    Tomorrow she may be livid and hate the potty, but today was a good day.

The Big Boy Update: Repeater.  He'll try to repeat any word you say to him.  He doesn't have the syllables yet to pronounce things, but he'll make a wild guess that may, or may not, be remotely close.  Sometimes he does a good job like, "Elmo."   From the amount of Elmo-ing happening in this house, I'm surprised Elmo isn't chanted most of the day.  He likes to show you how to do things too.  He will come get your finger and then try to bring your finger to the thing he wants to show you.  Sometimes your finger has to get up off the couch, go around the corner and then be shown how it's meant to do something. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Mmm, mmm, good.  Or maybe good.  It's hard to tell.  When she eats solids and she's hungry she makes this whining, mmm-ing sound the entire time.  She loves her solids.  She prefers them during the day to milk.  You can try to feed her milk and she'll do these crazy tongue routines to keep the bottle away and give you every indication she's not  hungry.  But bring on the solid foods and she'll eat two full packages.  Solids are great for stuffing her just before we go out to dinner.  She's sure to be asleep for a good portion of the meal.

Europe Has A Smell

The things I think about when I'm in the tub.  I swear, it's like a mental vacation to some strange land where things occur to me.  Things that must be written down immediately upon exiting the tub, or they're lost forever, like a dream you're woken from that fades into nothingness.

Where was I?  Ah yes, Europe and how it smells.  I love Europe.  I've been there many times either for work or vacation.  I love the food.  I love the different ways things are done there.  I like the nice, solid windows they have.  I like their castles—even if they're cold and musty.

But there's something that makes Europe have a particular smell.  If you were to blindfold me, hit me over the head and transport me to Europe and then ask me where I was.  I just might know.  It's like Manhattan.  I love the smell of Manhattan.  There is nothing like the taxi ride in from the airport as you go over the bridge and then ride through the city.  You can't have the windows up.  Your nose will resent you.

Each country in Europe is unique though.  Germany has a different smell than England.   Both Austria and Switzerland each have their own smells.  France has a very French smell—but that's to be expected with the French, I suppose. 

There's something underlying that says, "you're in Europe" to me though.  Perhaps it's the climate, I can't say.  What I can tell you is I miss traveling for work.  It's fun being all alone doing international work and getting to go out to dinner or shopping or sightseeing to experience the culture.

Europe does have it's own distinct smell though.  It's a good smell.  I like Europe.

The Big Boy Update:  The days are getting packed with things to report on this end.  He is suddenly making the connection between words and things while at the same time being interested in trying to pronounce words.  He knows what you're saying, but he won't respond when you want him to with an answer, that is until a few days ago.  He is suddenly saying, "daddy" and even knows the picture of daddy on his license is, "daddy."  He can point to the moon in a book or in the sky and say, "moon."  He learned the word, "belly" tonight and tried to say it several times.  He just seems interested in trying to speak individual words of late.  He babbles all the time.  He'll tell you all about something and you have no idea what he's saying, but it appears there may be real words to follow soon.  This may turn into the, "Big Boy Words Of The Day" column soon.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   Crawling.  She crawled yesterday.  She's been wanting to move, but so far she's only slid backwards slowly.  Yesterday she wouldn't nap and every time I went upstairs she was almost up on her hands and knees in the crib.  So I brought her downstairs and put her on the floor while I worked on the computer.  I turned around and she was two feet forward.  So I stopped working on the computer and got the camera.  Babies don't perform.  I must remember this.  I got nothing on video.  Eventually she did show me what she'd been doing and she was indeed crawling, although she was doing some face dragging in the process.  She kept getting mad.  Mad and crying.  But more mad if I picked her up and stopped her from trying to crawl.

Lost Cushion

When I was in high school we'd go to sports events or somewhere out like a picnic.  I hated sitting on bleachers.  Bleachers are not comfortable.  It's just metal and my butt was unhappy.  How did people sit through an entire game and not have a seat cushion?

I didn't do a lot of sporting events in the past.  I still don't.  But I also never liked flat wooden chairs or anything else that looked uncomfortable. 

However, over the past several years I completely forgot about uncomfortable seats.  As it turns out, when you gain lots of weight, you gain it in your butt.  My butt was nice and cushy.  So cushy, that I never thought about sitting on anything or how comfortable or uncomfortable it looked.

Back to my ideal weight, my butt is much less cushy.  Still, my knees are happy and I have so much more energy that I don't need to sit as much.  Maybe I could even play a sport?  Okay, maybe not...


The Big Boy Update: Smiles?  He smiles all the time.  But I came to realize the other day that when he's out, or in a new place, he's looking at what's happening and who is around him and he doesn't smile much.  We had lunch with a friend who saw him smile at the end of lunch and remarked about it.  It was only then that it occurred to me he wasn't smiling, although he was happy and having a good time.  I'm dropping him off to play with her for a few hours this coming Wednesday.  I have a feeling he's going to do a lot of smiling once he gets acclimated to her and the location.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Cutting her losses.  She has no idea how to cut her losses.  She also doesn't know how to let go of something when she's got her little vice grip on it.  When she has something, there's a good chance her brother is going to want it.  She doesn't mind him having it (I don't think) but she doesn't realize she has to let go to let him have it.  She doesn't realize she has to let go all the way to the floor... bonk..."waaaahhhhh".