The Week in Kids

This week...

Cate turned two.  Yay, Cate!

This is a birthday card I found.  The little girl is not Cate, but she looks just like her.

See?  They are identical.  Except that the parents of the child on the right, had the foresight to make their little girl start earning money for college early.  Why didn't we think of that?

There was little fan fare, as most of the family had been sick.  That is why she is still in her pajamas in the pictures.  But there was a small pumpkin spice cake, with two candles.

So small, Cate thought it was all hers.

Yum!

But, wait.  If you let me cut you piece, there is whipped  cream.

In honor of the big occasion, she got her own potty.  She seems very interested in the whole toileting process, so we think we might train her soon, much younger (and smaller) than we did the boys.  That will require a much smaller commode.  Two birds, one stone; she got a pink frog potty as a birthday present.

But now, I am having second thoughts.  Knowing my girl the way I do, I fear the potty, and her demands to use it, may just become one more way to manipulate me.  Am I ready to drop everything on the whims of my two year old and her bladder?  We'll see.

Also this week...

Jonah lost his first tooth.  Yay, Jonah!

I tried several times to get a good picture, that showed his face, and his gap-toothed smile, and wasn't blurry because he wiggles too much.

Until finally, he had had enough.

That is his genuine grumpy face.  When I see it, I know he has been pushed to the brink; it's serious.  But, he is just so darned cute, I can barely stop myself from grinning.

Also this week...

Samuel found my old guitar. 

He loves to see and hear people play the guitar.  Why don't I ever play any more?

See you next week!

C'I Go To Halloween?

This year's Halloween story is a little late.  Sorry about that.  We've been busy recovering from old, and getting new, illnesses.

Last Halloween, Jonah was a boy obsessed.  He had poured so much energy into his anticipation, that when the candy bowl was empty, the last trick-or-treater had left, and I turned out the porch light, he was completely devastated.

This Halloween, it was Samuel who became fixated.  "C'I go to Halloween?  C'I go to Halloween?"  He started obsessing asking shortly after the Fourth of July.  "C'I go to Halloween?"  When the day came, and the answer was finally "yes," he seemed a bit taken aback.  I guess that's why he kept asking.

"C'I go to Halloween?"

"Yes, Sam.  You are in your costume."

"C'I go to Halloween?"

"Yes, Sam.  We are trick-or-treating."

"C'I go to Halloween?"

"Yes, Sam.  This is Halloween."

As the night wore on, he indulged his sweet tooth, pleasantly surprised that candy was part of the deal.  Even though he was fixated with the idea of Halloween, I don't think he knew exactly what that meant.  But, he soon found out, and he liked it!

Then came the moment I was dreading.  How would Samuel take the end of his new favorite holiday?  As badly as Jonah had?  I braced myself for tears, wailing, and heart-wrenching disappointment.  Just like last year.

"Samuel,"  I started calmly.  "We are about to run out of candy for the trick-or-treaters.  I am going to turn out the porch light.  When I do, that will be the end of Halloween."  Then I held my breath.

Samuel did not miss a beat.  "C'I go to Christmas?  C'I go to Christmas?"
____

We have since explained that Thanksgiving comes next, prompting the question, "C'I go to turkey, gobble, gobble?  C'I go to turkey, gobble, gobble?"

Another Torch is Passed

Last year, a little before Christmas, Samuel gave up his place in our house as the Toddler Menace, passing that title onto his little sister Catherine.  By January, he was promoted from Menace to Assassin.  The Assassin of Sleep, specifically.  Having moved into a "big boy bed," he got out of bed, and then got me out of bed, on some pretense or other, every night for ten months.  If he did not, he was up by 5:30.  This, as you might imagine, was exhausting.

Last month, many things came together to improve this situation.  He stopped taking a nap.  The days started getting shorter; the mornings started getting darker.  For one whole week, he went to bed without incident, slept soundly through the night, and did not get out of bed until at least six, sometimes half past, and one glorious day, 7:30.  It seems my little Assassin has overcome his ways.  He is ready to get promoted again.  To what, I do not yet know.  I'll admit, I am a little anxious to see what comes next, but right now I have another problem.

Catherine.

After only one week -- one, glorious, sleep filled week -- of Samuel's new routine, Catherine learned how to climb out of her crib.  Climb out, stay out, cry to let me know she was out.  One morning at five, she came, like her brothers before her, to the side of the bed (Why is it always my side of the bed?), and said, "C'mon, Mommy.  Get up now."  Repeatedly.  "C'mon, Mommy.  Get up now.  C'mon, Mommy.  Get up now."  Then, she began pulling off the bed covers.  She grabbed the top corner and just peeled them back, leaving me no choice but to "C'mon, Mommy.  Get up now." 

This would not do.

In an effort to begin teaching her proper "big girl bed" behavior, I just embraced it.  Her crib is now converted into a toddler bed, with new bedding (an early birthday present) which she helped pick out (from the clearance rack).

So, to sum up:  The Assassin of Sleep torch has passed. Another Menace has been promoted.  And, Cate has a new bed.

Here it is, all made up, pretty and inviting.

She helped make it.

She showed Dolly how to use it.  This is a good sign, I thought.

She was thrilled to pieces to get in it.  Though it was not bed time.

She was even able to show me how she was going to "sleep" in it.

The first night, something got lost in translation.

The second night was a little better.  But, it took some work to get her to stay in there before this blissful picture could be taken.

The third night, she regressed a little.

We have quit trying to get her to stay in the bed.  All we require is that she stay in the room.  And, since she can't turn door knobs (yet) that has been pretty easy.  Most nights, she cries at her door for five minutes and then falls asleep there.  Before we go to bed, we have to squeeze our way in, scoop her up, and put her back where she belongs.  It has only been a week.  I am sure she is going to get the hang of it soon.  She is going to get the hang of it soon, right?

My next concern is what to do with her if she gets up too early in the morning, or worse, in the middle of the night.  Her father insists on opening her door before we go to bed so that "she can get out if she needs us."  Us?  Ha!  I can hear her if she needs me.  I can hear her even when she hopes I can't.  Like last night, when she got up, came into our room to look around a bit, and finding us still asleep, stole away to the kitchen, where I caught her, sitting in front of an open refrigerator, eating sour cream out of the container with a serving spoon.

Her brothers never did this and still don't.  If they get up in the middle of the night, they come to see me, no matter what.  There has never been any free range night time adventure.  Tonight, I'm keeping her door closed, before she figures out how to order pay-per-view and a pizza at two in the morning.

Meanwhile, we have to be careful not to get too distracted, lest we fail to notice what Samuel might be up to next.
 
Here's wishing you, and yours, an uninterrupted night of sleep.

The View From My Kitchen Sink

Who wants a banana?

The Week in Kids

This week...

...should be called the week in vomit.  But, I shall spare you.  While it is true that I am blessed/cursed with the ability to see the amusing side of almost anything, even half-digested puddles of my son's dinner, you may not be interested in reading about it.  You probably don't want to hear the story that starts whith Hubband scurrying out of the bathroom with a wet baby, hitching his thumb over his shoulder toward the bathtub, and saying, by way of explanation, "Poop soup."  I get that.  So, I'll move on.

And, since I missed last week's The Week in Kids, what you are about to read may have happened last week.  I don't want to mislead anyone.  I'll keep moving on.

Also, this week (or maybe last)...

Cate got her first pig tails.

Also, this week...

There were costumes (that's their Nana with them)...

...and candy...

...and very happy children.

Also, this week...

Cate moved into a toddler bed, even before the age of two.  Just one of the differences I have found between boys and girls.  I kept my boys in their cribs until they were well past three.  Since they did not climb out, or use the "potty" in the middle of the night, I saw no reason to give up that control over them.  Sometimes, I just needed a safe place to put them.  Cate, on the other hand, is a little Houdini.  On Halloween night, I caught her in her bed (when we thought she was sleeping) with a lolly pop in her mouth, pawing through her bag of candy.  And, we have no idea how she got the bag.  She's not even TWO people.  We, her parents, are doomed.

Also, this week...

My children surprised me with their knowledge...

ME:  Cate, what do you have?
CATE (waving a shiny, silver disk at me): CD, CD.
SAM (not the be outdone):  And, EFG, too!

..and, their sense of humor.

While I was in the kitchen, doing the dishes, Samuel stood at one of the gates I use to keep his kind out while I do the dishes, and started to rant at me, an impish grin on his face the whole time.

"Got damage!  [Something inaudible] tell you twice.  [Something inaudible] tell you again.  Stop it!  I mean it!  No, no, no!  Got damage!"

Then Hubband pipes up from his place on the couch.  "Hey, I think he's doing you."

Gee, you think.  The little stinker.  Got damage, indeed.

Also, this week...

There was some nice "boy" play, involving no bloodshed, real or imagined.

Also, this week...

On election day, to be exact, my friend Marissa came over to watch the boys so I could vote and sleep, after a particularly difficult night with sick children -- who, by the way, were only sick at night.  During the day, when I was completely wiped out, they were full of their usual healthy vigor.  Brats.  But, I digress.  Marissa came by, and showed off one of her hidden talents.  Face painting.

You rock, Miss Marissa!

See you next week!!!

A Fool and Her Husband's Money

In September, Target came out with a Fall line of home decor.  Included was an off white, cable knit throw blanket.  It was beautiful.  And, reasonably priced for such an item.  Only twenty dollars.  "Only," I say, as if I have money to squander.  Don't misunderstand.  I am not claiming poverty here.   We are blessed that Hubband has a good income.  But, we only have the one.  I am expected to stick to a tight budget.  And, we are saving everything else so we can relocate soon.  In light of that, I could not bring myself to spend twenty dollars on a beautiful blanket.

Then, in early October, Sam's class at pre-school was requesting donations to go into a raffle basket for the Fall Festival.  One of the items requested was a throw blanket.  Well, I may not be willing to spend twenty dollars on a beautiful blanket for myself, but there is no reason I should be uncharitable.  So, I went and bought the blanket, and donated it to the school to put in one of the raffle baskets.

The Fall Festival was in late October.  The kids had great fun.  And, the raffle baskets looked fabulous.  Many with awesome (and expensive) prizes.  I could not help myself.  I really wanted to win the basket with that blanket.  Or the basket full of twenty dollar gift cards.  Or the week's free tuition.  The more tickets I had, the better my odds of winning.  This is just a statement of fact.  So, I bought twenty dollars worth of tickets to win a twenty dollar blanket.  And I did not win anything. 

You think I would just cut my losses.  But, no.  I was so disappointed that I had already spent forty dollars and had no blanket to show for it, that the next time I was in Target, I bought that blanket.  Yes.  Yes, I did.  I spent sixty dollars for a twenty dollar blanket.  I love that blanket.  I cuddle up with that blanket every night before bed, in my little corner of the couch, where I sit and drink a cup of chamomile tea and read my Bible, searching for proverbs on wisdom and frugality, warm in my shame and my blanket, which I love.

A Little Vacation

I was hoping to come here today with amusing Halloween stories.  And there are some.  But, I don't have the time today.  In fact, I may need to take a brief vacation from you, dear readers, as I have been busy with my mom chores, like cleaning up vomit and diarrhea.  On the bright side, they are all so sick, this means more candy for me.

Unless, I get sick too.

Oh, no.  I had not thought of that.  Surely, I won't get sick.  Mom's never do, right?

Hope to see you all in a few days!