Wednesday, July 31, 2013

It's Hot

This morning, Son #2 refused to eat breakfast.  I had prepared for him a scrumptious bowl of apple cinnamon oatmeal.  (His favorite.)  Unfortunately, Son #2 turned up his nose at the site of his breakfast and scurried from the table.  He bounced on the couch and galloped around the coffee table impishly.  "Come eat your food.  It's good."  I gently urged.

Son #2 shook his head firmly.  "Uh uh."

"Sit down.  Eat your food.  Aren't you hungry?"  My husband beseech-ed.

Son #2 turned his head and ran.

Finally, Son #2 came into the dinette area and reached for a bag of cookies.  My brow furrowed.  No way was I going to give him a cookie when he had not eaten breakfast.  My husband was in agreement and said.  "No, Son.  You have to eat your breakfast first."

Son #2 fussed but eventually climbed onto his chair.  My husband offered a bite but Son #2 turned his head.  The spoon danced in front of Son #2's eyes as my husband enticed.  "Take a bite.  It's good.  It's delicious."

"Yum.  So delicious."  I echoed providing my support to the situation.

Son #2 refused.  "It's hot."  It was not hot.

"It's not hot.  See?"  My husband took a bite of the oatmeal and savored the flavor.  "Yum.  So good.  So delicious."

Son #2 could not be convinced.  "No, no.  Hot."  He said with surety.

We finally gave up and let him run around like a chicken in the living room.  He did not get the cookie but eventually he did get hungry enough to finish his breakfast.

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

The Sandcastle

While visiting the beach, Son #1 and I decided we would build a grand sandcastle.  Quickly, we threw on clothes and ate breakfast.  Then, we sprinted to the beach like Calvin and Hobbs carrying our shovels and pails.  Son #1 scouted out a good location and began to dig.  I knelt down beside him and filled my bucket.

Some time passed and the walls of our sand city began to take shape.  Son #1 was busily digging a tunnel while I constructed a three tier palace.  Then, Son #1 called out.  "Mom, I need help."

I walked over to where he was working and proceeded to dig opposite of my son.  The trick to digging a tunnel that will last is to dig it deep with a wide bridge.  Another trick is to stay as far away from the bridge and tunnel while digging as possible.  So there we were lying prostrate on the ground.  Our arms were in the tunnel furiously scooping sand like an armadillo.  Finally, our shovels met and broke through the last remaining sandy barrier. 

I shouted with excitement.  "We did it!  Look!  You can see through to the other side!" 

Son #1 pressed his face against the sand and peered through the tunnel.  "I can see you!"  He cried.

With our tunnel accomplished, we moved on to designing streets, buildings, markets, farms, and the exterior wall.  Son #1 scooped the extra sand from our buildings, bridges, and tunnels.  He methodically piled the sand by our little lake and river.

I asked.  "What are you making?"

Son #1 responded.  "A volcano."

Apparently this sandy city was a replica of Pompeii.  No matter.  We continued with our project for most of the day until hunger and the setting sun beckoned us inside.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Jumping the Waves

When I was in college, I loved to go down to the Gulf of Mexico and body surf on the waves.  There is nothing like the warm salt water, sandy beaches, and the bright sun that characterizes that particular coastline.  I specifically enjoyed jumping the waves while I plodded out into the ocean looking for the perfect wave to ride.

While we were on vacation, Son #2 became enamored with the ocean and its waves.  He would run as fast as he could toward the water as my husband or I chased after him.  We would catch up to him, lift him into the air, and let the surf tickle his toes.  Son #2 laughed with glee and then begged for more.  My husband and I are suckers.  We would always oblige him.

On one of my many journeys with Son #2 into the breaking swell, I reminisced about my trips to the gulf.  Son #2 reminded me of myself when I was young, covered in salt water and anticipating the next wave.  Soon the next wave was upon us.  I hoisted my crazy toddler into the air as the water lapped at his ankles.  He squealed with excitement. 

All too soon, it was time for a nap.  Son #2's eyelids drooped wearily as he clung to his dad's leg.  My husband was also tired and volunteered to take him inside.  I waved to my baby as he clung to my husband's shoulder.  Then, I promised to come inside after a while.  With a touch of childish delight, I ran over to where Son #1 was constructing his sand castle.  However, that is another story.

Wednesday, July 24, 2013

The T-Shirt

While on vacation at a gorgeous beach get away, our little family wound through the streets looking for a place to eat.  Son #1 trotted ahead with his dad while Son #2 toddled beside me holding onto my finger.  We stopped to look in windows and ponder our options.  Were we hungry for Mexican food?  No.  Not this time.  Did we want to eat Chinese food?  Maybe the adults would like it but the kids would fuss.  What about pizza?  Hmm.  Now that sounds delicious to everybody in the group.

We happily strolled down the main street in the direction of the pizza place.  Son #1 was so excited.  He talked animatedly about getting cheese pizza.  "That's my favorite!"  He announced to everyone in earshot.

Our little band was almost to its destination.  We could smell the scent of pizza in the air.  Our pace quickened.  Our mouths watered.  The pizza place was in our sights.  We hurriedly drove through the crowd of people on the sidewalk.  A clearing in the sea of people appeared.  As I paused to appreciate the gift of personal space, a woman on a phone began to talk loudly.  I am a nosy person so I eavesdropped on the conversation.  She seemed to be discussing directions or locations with the person on the other end of the line.  All of a sudden she looked up at me and asked.  "Excuse me.  What city are we in?"

I turned toward the woman.  She was dressed in tourist clothes.  Her t-shirt seemed brand new.  Obviously, she had purchased the t-shirt in this lovely beach town.  I grinned with amusement as I read her shirt to her.  "Honolulu, Hawaii."

She thanked me and went back to inform her friend of her location.  I smirked evilly as Son #2 and I walked away. 

T-shirts are wonderful items.  They are comfortable to wear and sometimes they help you remember your location.

Saturday, July 13, 2013

Dadi's Ba

The other evening, we ran out of soy milk for Son #2's sippy cup.  Son #2 was devastated and immediately requested that we get more in his own little language.  "My ba.  Want ba.  Ba ba."  (Translation:  Son #2 currently uses the word "ba" for milk.  Previously, he used the word "ba" for bottle.)

I explained to Son #2.  "Baby, we need to go to the store and get more milk for your sippy cup.  I'm so sorry.  Let's get ready to go bye bye."

I had the boys scurry to get their socks and shoes.  Son #2 needed to use the potty before leaving the house.  Son #1 dawdled around in the living room instead of putting on his socks and shoes.  We had decided to take the whole gang to the grocery store.  Evidently, it was going to take us the usual thirty minutes to get out of the house.

While all this was going on, my husband decided to set up the coffee maker.  We were also out of creamer so now we had two important items to procure at the store.  Son #2 heard the familiar sounds of the coffee maker and ran into the kitchen.  His eyes grew wide as he watched the preparations.  Then, his little hands reached for the air as he announced his intentions.  "Up?  Want up?"

My husband commented.  "Pick him up.  He likes to watch me make coffee.  I let him watch all the time."

"Alright."  I said nonchalantly.

I reached down and lifted my little baby up into my arms.  Son #2 leaned hard to investigate the coffee maker and its contents.  His face showed a mixture of interest and awe.  Making coffee can be so fun.  After assessing the coffee maker and ground coffee, Son #2 straightened up and stated in a matter-of-fact tone.  "Dadi's ba."

I smiled at my husband mischievously.  My husband suppressed his laughter.  I giggled quietly and then agreed with Son #2's statement.  "You're right.  That is your Daddy's ba." 

Thursday, July 11, 2013

Where's Dad?

This week, my husband has been replacing parts on the car that have worn out.  Yesterday, he drifted back and forth from his office to the garage and then to our bedroom throughout the day.  Son #1 tagged along behind him asking a million questions about cars, his bike, friends, and a certain Star Wars game on the computer.  My husband patiently answered the questions but you could see he was getting a tiny bit flustered.  Finally, Son #1 wanted to play so he scampered to his room to build space ships and race tracks.

My husband continued to work on the car and various other tasks in and around the house.  Son #1 was involved in a very intricate race with his hot wheels.  Son #2 was busy tossing toys around in his room and I was watering the garden.  Eventually, I wandered into the house.  All was quiet except for the random squeals of the hot wheels race or the tiny crash of a baby toy.  I turned on some music and started rinsing the dirty dishes in the sink.  Then, my eldest son wandered out of his room.

"Where's Dad?"  He asked.

" I don't know.  Go check his office.  Maybe he is in there."  I suggested.

Son #1 trotted over to the office door and peeked into the room.  There was no sign of his dad in the office so he skipped back to the kitchen.  "He's not in his office."  Son #1 announced.

"OK.  Try the bedroom."  I offered.

Son #1 bounded to the bedroom door and looked inside.  "Is he in there?"  I called out.

"No."  Son #1 responded.

"Is he on the pot?"  I asked.

"No."  Son #1 replied.

"Hmm.  Alright, try the garage.  Maybe he is working on the car."  I said.

Son #1 walked into the laundry room.  Just as he was about to open the garage door, he heard a noise behind him.  Son #1 almost jumped out of his skin as he turned to find his dad standing at the washing machine.

Son #1 managed to say between uncontrollable giggles.  "Dad!  You scared me!  I didn't see you there!"

My husband is a great hider.

Wednesday, July 10, 2013


The other afternoon, Son #2 toddled up to me, whimpered a bit, and demanded.  "Ba ba."

I said.  "Oh, you want your sippy, sippy cup.  Let me go get it for you."

Son #2 ran to the refrigerator door and looked at me expectantly.  I carefully opened the door and grabbed the sippy cup and soy milk.  Son #2 peeked inside and fiddled with the humidity buttons.  When I finished filling his cup, I returned the soy milk to its shelf and announced.  "OK.  It's time to close the door." 

Son #2 ran to the other side of the refrigerator door and patted it.  Then, I sang out.  "Close it.  Close it."  Son #2 giggled and babbled something unrecognizable.  Then, we headed toward the sofa. 

Son #2 gazed at his sippy cup with hands outstretched.  "Want that."  He requested.  I scooped him up and gently lay him down with his head on one of the arm rests.  Son #2 reached for his sippy cup and began to drink immediately.  I grabbed a small blanket and covered him.  Just as I was about to walk away, a little hand reached up.  I guessed that he wanted me to hold him for a bit so I began to snuggle him.

Son #2 looked so content drinking from his cup as I stroked his face.  When he was finished with his drink, he held it up in the air and declared.  "All done."  I took the cup and placed it on the lamp table.

 "Go night night."  I whispered. 

Son #2 whispered in return.  "Night night."

I ran my fingers through my baby's hair and rubbed my hand across his eyebrows.  Son #2's eyes began to droop as he relaxed in my arms.  Then, I heard a little noise.  Lo and behold Son #2 was fake snoring.  He opened one eye slightly and snorted.  I couldn't believe what I was hearing and seeing!  The little rascal was trying to fool me!  I continued to stroke his hair while he continued to saw pretend logs.  After a while, Son #2 did fall asleep but not before he acted out one final snore.

Son #2 has a pretty good sense of humor.  He is a BIG turkey.  However, there is an even BIGGER turkey that has taught Son #2 the joys of fake snoring.

Tuesday, July 9, 2013

Chonies in the Toilet

Son #2 is learning to pee pee in the toilet.  When we first started, we would go through 6 underwear a day.  We were wading in pee pee up to our eyeballs.  A few weeks later of consistent or at least semi consistent potty training, Son #2 has gotten the basic idea.  Now he can wear his underwear for most of the day.  Maybe once a day, he'll have an accident.  I am so relieved.  My laundry pile is now beginning to shrink.

Son #2 loves his underwear.  We've nicknamed them "chonies" or in Mexican Spanish slang "chones".  Son #2 gets so excited when  he puts on his chonies after his bath.  He feels like a big boy because he can use the toilet like the rest of us. 

Several days ago, Son #2 had a little accident in his chonies.  We ran to the bathroom and sat him on the toilet to see if we could catch the rest of it.  Son #2 finished peeing in the toilet as we danced around in excitement.

"You did it!  You did it!   You pee peed in the potty!  You did it!  You did it!  You pee peed in the potty!"  We chanted.  I broke out into a faux bass guitar solo while we waved our arms in the air.  Son #2 clapped and cheered.

I had a dry, fresh pair of chonies waiting for my baby as he climbed down from the toilet.  He flushed the toilet and I turned to grab a wet wipe for the seat.  As I was cleaning up the random drops of pee pee, Son #2 grabbed his clean chonies and tossed them into the toilet bowl.  I looked at him with a face full of consternation.

"What in the world?!"  I exclaimed in dismay.

Son #2 babbled an explanation as I retrieved a new pair of underwear.  I got him dressed, washed his tiny hands, and then sent him out to play.  Upon returning to the restroom, I stared at the chonies resting at the bottom of the toilet bowl.  How would I fish them out of the toilet?  I looked around for a few good options but none presented themselves.  That is when I realized I would have to stick my hand in the toilet.  I searched the bathroom once more for a pair of gloves but found none.  Then, I sighed and fished out the chonies from the toilet water.

Now that I've had a few days to ruminate about the experience, I can look at it philosophically.  It is pretty disgusting to pull items out of the toilet with a bare hand.  However, this doesn't EVEN compare to other tales from the Excrement Chronicles.

Sunday, July 7, 2013


This morning, my two boys sat together on the floor watching an episode of Caillou.  Their faces were rapt with anticipation as Caillou practiced whistling with his father.  Their little bodies bent forward studying the whistle.  All of a sudden my boys were inspired and rushed down the hallway to practice their  whistling.

"Dad! Dad!"  Son #1 called out.

"What, son?"  My husband replied.

"Dad! Listen!"  Son #1 pursed his lips together and made a slight whistling sound.

"Nice!"  My husband commented.  "Try it again."

Son #1 pressed his lips to form a small circle and made a small whistling noise.

"Good!  Now press your lips together and make a tighter circle.  Then, you'll be able to make a better whistling sound."  My husband instructed. 

Son #1 did as he was told and succeeded in whistling a little louder.

While my husband instructed our eldest son, Son #2 watched closely.  He studied every movement and facial expression.  You could see him analyzing the way the lips were pressed together and how the whistling sound was formed.  As my husband and eldest son discussed the different tries, they heard a tiny noise.  They looked down and saw Son #2 blowing with all his might.  Son #2 was tweeting a song in his best baby whistle!

Vitamin Gummies

Last night, my husband and I had just put our oldest son to bed.  The boys were exhausted after picnicking at the local botanical garden with family.  We were in the process of getting our youngest son settled when our oldest appeared at the baby gate with an anxious look on his face.

"Mom?  Dad?"  Son #1 ventured.  "Can I have a vitamin gummy?  I didn't have one today."  Son #1 yawned and his eyes were barely open.

I looked up at Son #1's tired little face and said.  "Not tonight.  It's late.  You can have one in the morning."

"But I need one now!"  Son #1 whined as he leaned against the wall in exhaustion.

"You'll be fine."  My husband reassured him.  "Just wait until morning.  Now, go to bed.  You are so tired."

Son #1 pouted and persisted.  "But, I want one!  Why can't I have one now?"

Good question.  Maybe we were too tired to go to the kitchen and get one.  Maybe we didn't want to interrupt Son #2's bedtime routine and bring bad juju upon ourselves.  Maybe we were just lazy.  Any of these reasons were plausible.  Fortunately, we could be autocratic about this without causing too much angst.

"You can't have a vitamin gummy now because it is late.  Go to bed.  I'll make sure I get you one in the morning."  I promised.  "I love you!"

Son #1 would not be swayed  He shouted out dramatically.  "If I don't have a vitamin gummy, I'll DIE!"

My husband and I rolled with laughter.  I know that we've impressed upon him the importance of healthy eating and taking his vitamins.  However, we may have gone a bit too far.

Friday, July 5, 2013

Kite Treating E

The other day, Son #1 wanted to fly his kite in a field near our house.  I had promised that we would but unfortunately there was no wind.  Now, he wanted to try flying his kite again.  Slowly, he climbed over the baby gate and meandered into the garage where my husband was working on the car. 

"Dad?"  Son #1 ventured.  "Can I fly the kite in the front yard?"

Our front yard has a gorgeous, leafy tree with branches that reach toward the clouds.  When we bought the house, this tree was a flimsy sapling with a ring of mulch and dirt around it.  Over the years, it has really grown into a nice shade tree where birds make nests and sing to their mates.  On this particular day, my husband had the garage door open to let in the cool morning breeze.  Our tree cast a nice shadow near the garage entrance. 

My husband looked up from his task inside the car when he heard Son #1''s shy voice.  "Did you say you wanted to fly the kite in the front yard?"

"Yeah!"  Son #1 replied with a bit of enthusiasm.

"Hmm.  That might not be a good idea."  My husband said thoughtfully.  Then he asked.  "Have you ever heard of the kite eating tree?"

Son #1 furrowed his brow.  "The kite treating E?"

My husband chuckled.  "No.  It's the kite eating tree from Charlie Brown."

"You see, the tree ate Charlie Brown's kite when he got too close."  My husband explained.

Son #1's eyes were wide with amazement.  "Oh.  I guess I can't fly my kite in the front yard because of the kite treating E."

"You mean the Kite Eating Tree."  My husband corrected.

"Uh...yeah."  With that, Son #1 hopped over the baby gate and down the hall to his room to play.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Harry Beary Goes to the Doctor

Yesterday, my family accompanied me to the doctor.  My doctor was having me check in with her after having surgery a few weeks before.  Son #1 decided to take his stuffed bear with him.

On the ride up, Son #1 asked.  "Do you think the doctor could look at Harry Beary and check her temperature?  Maybe the doctor could look in her ears, too."  (Now, I know most of you are scratching your head saying.  "I thought the bear was a boy."  You are mistaken.  Harry is short for Harriet.)

I responded with a touch of glee.  "Sure!  We'll ask when we get there."

Son #1 settled into the back seat of the car and sighed.  "Good.  I think she is getting sick."

When we arrived at the doctor's building, we made a single file trek up to her office.  Once inside the examination room, the boys wiggled on the chairs repressing their urges to get into everything.  Then, the nurse entered the room.  She asked took my blood pressure and temperature all the while Son #1 watched in anticipation.  When the nurse had finished recording the data, I smiled conspiratorially and asked.  "Do you think you could take the temperature of my son's bear as well?"

Her eyes twinkled as she turned to my son and then replied.  "Of course.  Let's put the thermometer in your Bear's ear."

Son #1 grinned and said.  "I hope she's not getting sick."

"It looks like her temperature is normal."  The nurse assured him as she pressed the memory button to pull up the previous temperature of 98.0 F.

Son #1 looked at her seriously.  "Oh good."

I have to say that the doctor and her staff are amazing.  Not only do they take great care of me, they provide wonderful care for teddy bears.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

While We Were Eating Part Deux

This last Sunday, we had "lazy supper".  "Lazy supper" entails some sort of fried goodness while picnicking on the living room floor in front a good movie.  "Lazy supper"  is fantastic.

The kids were camped out on one of my blankets eating veggie corn dogs, tater tots, fried zucchini, and grapes.  The movie had them captivated.  In the middle of it all, Son #2 got up from his place on the floor and brought his plate to me.  He wanted help eating his food so he crawled onto my lap.  Slowly, I handed him bite after bite.  He savored each bite with exquisite delight. 

Son #2 began to get sleepy as he munched on his crunchy food.  His eyes partially closed and he relaxed in my arms.  I gently rocked him back and forth. 

From out of nowhere, I felt something warm and wet running down my leg.  Could he be peeing on me??  The stream continued to trickle and them pour down my leg as I quickly lifted Son #2 from my lap. 

Blasted pee pee!

I had forgotten that Son #2 was in underwear and that we were in the middle of potty training!

Lesson of the Day:  Forgetting your potty training toddler is in underwear can be an occupational hazard.