Singing the Blues

I'm not a fan of baby talk in older kids. But every now and then, a little one will mispronounce or rename something in such an endearing way, that I hope they say it that way forever. Okay, maybe not forever, but I will be really sad when they no longer use their own special word.

When our nephew was little, he called hot dogs "dot dots." Our niece used to call suckers "pollipops." Adrian and I have continued to use these words when we talk to each other. We're not trying to be cutesy. We just love invoking the memories of when our nephew and niece were little.

Oo has a few specific mispronunciations that Adrian and I never correct -- she says "gank you" instead of "thank you," and she calls skunks "stunks." She'll learn the correct pronunciations soon enough. But hopefully, not too soon. For now, we savor the sound of her little voice saying these words.

T hasn't been talking for very long, and so, much of what he says is mispronounced. Oo, Adrian and I can understand him, but his language sounds like baby babble to most everyone else. Already, however, there is a word that will forever remind us of when he was really little.

Out of seemingly nowhere, T began pointing to the kitchen cupboard and yelling, "Blue! Blue!" over and over again. I rummaged through the cupboard with him to find out what he was asking for. "Do you want this bowl? Do you want a sippy cup? Do you want the goldfish snack box?"

"No! Blue!" It took me two days to figure it out.

A container of candy (mostly Halloween remnants) is also in that cupboard. But he couldn't have been asking for that -- T doesn't really like candy. In fact, the only piece of candy that he ever finished was a Dum-Dum sucker. A blue Dum-Dum sucker.


Ah, mystery solved. And now that T knows we understand his request, he is always asking for a "blue." He doesn't always eat them -- most of the time he just carries it around all day, eventually dropping it to the floor.

Kids grow up way too fast, and it won't be long before T uses the word "sucker." But as for Adrian and me, I'm sure we will always say blue.

WHAT?

Lately, our house sounds like a trade show for cheap hearing aids.

I've had not-so-great hearing for a while now, probably the result of dancing near the speakers in my days of raves and clubbing. Adrian has told me many times...

A: You need to get your hearing checked."
J: What?
A: I said you need to get your hearing checked!
J: Oh, yeah.

I've yet to do so.

Oo has begun to ask "What?" as often as I do. A trip to the pediatrician yesterday revealed that, due to her recent cold, she has fluid in both ears and one ear is infected. The doc said that it could be 4-6 weeks before the fluid drains out and her hearing is back to normal.

Mynah bird that he is, T has begun repeating "What?" whenever he hears it.

J: Hey Oo, what do you want to eat?
O: What? Who's in the street?
J: What?
O: What?
T: What, what? What? What?
A: You seriously need to get your hearing checked.
J: What? Oh... yeah.

Mom! She's touching me!

The other day, Adrian asked me to email him a cute, recent picture of the kids together. Problem was, we didn't have a recent one that I would consider cute, not a one. The last decent picture of the two together was last Christmas. In just about every picture we take of the two of them, T is squirming or running to get away from Oo. (Go back to the pic from this Halloween, and you'll see what I mean.)

I think we're doing a pretty good job fostering some sibling love between the kids. Sure there's the occasional (okay, daily) smack or kick, but only because the "hittee" is getting getting too close to the "hitter."

T is usually the hitter. Oo is so infatuated with babies and younger kids that she just can't leave them alone. In her own lovey way, she is always in T's face -- trying to get him to laugh or say new words. She is forever holding his hand and hugging him.

And T responds to this by trying to swat her away. I can't say I blame him. I'd get pretty annoyed too if someone's hugs were forever knocking me to the ground. We explain to Oo that when he's a little older and has better balance, he'll love and return her hugs.

And I don't think a sibling utopia is entirely impossible. It's too early to tell. But we are already seeing signs of T's loving feelings towards his sister. For example, when she's crying he'll come close to investigate, with a concerned look on his face. And when she's not around, he'll repeatedly ask, "Where Uh-na go?"

And so, Adrian's request sent me on a photographic mission. Armed with my camera always nearby, I've been stalking the kids' every move. And I'm proud to declare: Success!

Here's a pic of Oo and T holding hands. Truth be told told, T was too sick that day to muster up a squirm. But look at the delight on Oo's face!


In this pic, T is trying to help Oo finish her soup. Oo didn't really want to eat lunch, but she loved being fed by her little brother.


In this pic, the kids are playing in a dining room table fort. For the most part, T would only sit inside the fort when Oo was elsewhere. But here I managed to catch them side by side. See, T? It's not so bad!


Whether these are signs of lovey times ahead, or just luck that I got some pics before T ran away, I'll let you be the judge. As for Adrian and me, we're still striving for that utopia.

Pajama Day

Note: Don't get too excited a new blog entry is here. This entry contains no pictures and nothing cute nor funny. It's just an update.

Last night (Sunday), as Adrian was serving the lasagna he made for dinner, I realized he was STILL in his PJs from the night before. Oh wait... so was I. I looked at the kids in the dining room... yup, PJs and PJs. None of us had gotten dressed all day. It wasn't a conscious decision to have a luxurious, lounging kind of day. It was purely that no one had the energy to bother with getting dressed.

It had been a rough week in our house. Here's a detail-lacking synopsis:

MONDAY
Nothing planned; just laundry. Kids' noses have been a little runny for 3 days -- ah yes, Fall weather is finally here. Adrian's not thrilled about going to work -- economy is really rearing its ugly head in trucking industry. I get a call -- my client needs an estimate for proofreading a website. Big job -- Suh-WEET!

TUESDAY
I'm awarded the website proofing job. I'm told not to start working on it until after 4pm. Project will take many days. Kids play together while I scramble to clean. Housework piles up when I have big proofing projects.

WEDNESDAY
Grandma watches kids while I go to doc appointment. Not a fun visit w/the doc, but I get 3 web pages proofed while in the waiting room. Won't get to proof again until kids go to bed. T has a little throat congestion -- cute little raspy voice. Adrian has business meeting at 11PM (seriously) with his client's 3rd shift drivers. T wakes up around 11PM w/ a barking cough and bloody spit. Hospital? Gotta wait for Adrian to get home. T perks up by then. No hospital visit needed -- whew! Also no sleep for us... T wakes every hour coughing/crying. Adrian tries to soothe T all night, while I work all night to finish proofing the first section of the website... the section that is due Thursday 8AM.

THURSDAY
Oo's rested and energetic; the rest of us are dragging our tails. Grandma watches kids in the morning while I go to a different appointment. After lunch, Oo and I take T to his doctor. The doc and some x-rays inform us: croup, ear infection, and slight viral infection in his lungs. Poor little guy! Adrian cancels tonight's client dinner. He puts kids to bed alone, while I start to tackle the next part of the proofing project.

FRIDAY
Adrian uses a vacation day. He and I switch roles -- he and T take Oo to school; I work during daylight hours. Kids are totally confused by this and become quite cranky. They stay cranky all weekend.

SATURDAY
More of the same, but now Oo's runny nose is becoming something more -- her voice sounds "crooked," as she would say. I proof most of the day. Adrian and I enjoy dinner out with friends, T zonks out early, Oo enjoys visiting w/ her favorite neighborhood babysitter.

SUNDAY
I work on the website all day (and then all night). Adrian watches kids, who are obviously miserably sick. This time, the kids switch roles -- T demands and complains all day; Oo is quiet and mellow (actually, more like "zoned out").

TODAY, MONDAY
T shows signs of getting better; Oo has a headache and fever all day. Adrian trudges off to work after an exhausting weekend with crabby kids. Nothing planned here; just laundry. Then I get word that another big proofing project will come our way this week...

Lessons in Politics

On Monday at the dinner table, A and I were talking about our Election Day schedules.

J: When are you going to vote tomorrow?
A: Before work. Are you taking the kids with you to the polls?
Oo: Ooooo, I want to go to the pool! Me! Me! Me!

Yikes! And thus began our first political conversation with a 3-year-old. We had to lower her expectations -- from splashing around in water to standing in a long line. She asked a bunch of questions -- most of the "Why?" And we soon found ourselves talking, in the simplest terms, about voting and the election.

Oo: I'm scared! I don't want to go to the election!
A & I: Why?
Oo: I don't want them to pick me!

So then we had to explain (again in simple terms) the candidates and our right (and duty) to vote for the one who will do the best job.

Oo: But I'm scared! I don't know who to pick!

And so on and so on. Eventually, it boiled down to this:

A: If you're good standing in line tomorrow, Mommy will buy you a donut.

Tuesday morning I got the kids moving early. I didn't want to miss voting, knowing there was a chance that -- donut or no donut -- Oo was going to refuse to cooperate. We got there without any fuss, but I brought many provisions just in case. Juice boxes, cookies, suckers, crackers and books surrounded the kids in the wagon. I even brought the portable DVD player, should the line be horrendously long. Oo wanted to bring her camera in with her to take pictures; so then we had to have a conversation about privacy.

Fortunately (but oddly) there was no wait at all. Armed with my cheat sheet, I tried to vote as quickly as possible. But it wasn't quick enough for T. Belted in the wagon seat, he began to squawk, "Walk! Walk!" The white-haired woman filling out her ballot next to me tsk'd and muttered under her breath, clearly annoyed that I had my kids with me. But Oo came to the rescue... She climbed out of the wagon and began to push it around to keep T quiet.

As we left the polls, Oo was proud to have earned a donut, and she was anxious to know who had won the election.

J: Hopefully, a good guy will win.
Oo: Where is the good guy? I didn't meet him yet. Is he in Ohio?
J: I don't know where he is right now, but when he's elected he'll move into the White House in Washington DC.

After many more questions -- most of them "Why?" -- and after me trying to explain things using simple and non-partisan language (truly, Dad, I swear it!), we netted out here:

Oo: Why is there a bad guy in the lighthouse? Maybe when the bad guy moves out and the nice guy moves in, we can go to the beach!


And since I'm showing Election Day pics, here is the charming T sporting his voting sticker:

Tricks With Treats

Ah, Halloween! This was the first year that Oo was old enough to care what she'd wear. On her 1st Halloween, she was a lamb. On her 2nd Halloween, she was the same size so she was the same lamb. By her 3rd Halloween she'd finally grown out of the lamb costume. She dressed as a lion, and T wore the lamb costume. The lion and the lamb... we didn't plan it that way, but it sure was cute. No one fit into the lamb suit this year.



Back in August, Oo started dreaming about this year's costume. She wanted to be a cowgirl... no, a T-rex... no, a robot. It wasn't until mid-October that she decided she definitely wanted to be a T-rex. (I'm sure the lizard mask she'd recently played with had a lot to do with her final decision.)


So we began our quest for a dinosaur costume. A and Oo went to two Halloween stores, but she said she was too scared of the spooky stuff to shop any further. So I went alone to shop for a costume. Low and behold, I found a dinosaur costume, and it was on sale. Bonus! It was the one and only dinosaur costume we had seen anywhere, and it just happened to be her size. Double bonus! I brought it home and hid it in a closet, to keep her from wearing it to shreds before Halloween night.

And now for T's costume. One night as T took a bath, I amused myself by styling his foamy, shampoo-y hair. I gave him a shampoo mohawk, and A loved it. It was then that I thought of dressing T as a punk rocker for Halloween. He had a couple bad-ass toddler t-shirts (courtesy of my sister) that would look great layered over a long-sleeved shirt, and we already had a dog collar (also from my sister). All I needed to make the punk ensemble complete was a pair of plaid pants. "No problem," I thought. Stores were already stocking the Christmas items. I was sure I could find some red plaid pants (which would later double as half of a snazzy outfit for Christmas).

Okay, problem... yeah, the store's racks were filling up with Christmas clothes, but only frilly dresses. There were no holiday clothes for boys to be found. Ixnay the unkpay. Fortunately, two days before Halloween, I found a little red sweat suit, complete with devil horns and a tail. And it was on sale for only $2.50. Super duper bonus! (Sometimes it does pay to do things at the last minute.)


On Halloween night, with A manning the porch and candy bowl, the kids and I started to make our rounds. Oo kept sprinting ahead of me -- too excited to stay by my side -- and T was happily riding in the wagon behind me. I was exited too. Excited to show off my little T-rex and devil. Excited to watch Oo ham it up for the neighbors with her growling, stomping and showing her claws. And excited to watch T's reaction to a candy treat or two. (He doesn't get candy at home.)

And then the tricks began. Oo totally clammed up. Shyness? Stage fright? I'm not sure, but she wouldn't say anything to our neighbors -- not "trick or treat," not "thank you," not even one growl. Here's the girl who talks non-stop all day, who tells her life story to everyone she meets. [Sigh.] Oh well, I couldn't coax her. Rebel that she is, coaxing would only make her clam up even more and maybe use her own make-believe sign language with me.

As for T, I unwrapped the first long tootsie roll we got and place it in his warm little fist. He studied it quietly, his arm and hand held completely steady. He did not move it in for a taste or a closer look. He held it perfectly still in his wagon, as if posing for a painted portraiture.

About half-way around our block, I noticed the tip of the tootsie roll was slobbery, yet his arm was held in the same position as before. I'd missed seeing him take a taste; I'd missed seeing his reaction. Did he like it? Did he smile? Would he taste it again?

At each house, I would bend down next to him to help Oo put T's share of the candy in his bag, and occasionally I studied the slobbery tootsie roll. We visited several more houses before I noticed a tiny nibble taken out of the top. But I never did see him put the candy to his lips. By the time we got home, the tootsie roll was gone. "He must've liked it," I thought.

Oo and I joined A on our front steps and helped to hand out candy. T was content to sit still in the wagon. He was moving around now -- reaching into his treat bag, pulling candies out one at a time and dropping them onto the ground. His bag was nearly empty. "So he didN'T like it," I thought, picturing the tootsie roll discarded somewhere in a pile of leaves.

Later that night, I found the tootsie roll. It was tucked inside my blazer pocket, in all its sticky, slobbery glory. How nice of him to share.

Comments

For those of you who have expressed a desire to leave comments on this blog, you are now able to do so. It pains me -- control freak that I am -- to give others room on my blog for their thoughts. But considering that I probably know everyone who is following this, I'm pretty sure I have nothing to worry about. Be kind!

"Say cheese, little butt"

Last Christmas we gave Oo a super durable kids digital camera (to keep her from begging to use mine). So, she's had the camera for almost a year now and has completed several photographic studies. The first was a series I call "Toys on the Floor," then there was "T's Eyeballs and Nose," and most recently a series A refers to as "Still Life With Stuffed Animals." It's fun to watch her take pictures, to see what images she wants to capture "on film."

However... while downloading the latest batch of pictures from her camera, I see that she has a new favorite subject to photograph -- rear ends. Yep. On her camera I found numerous pics of T's big-diaper butt, A's backside and my fanny -- all clothed, of course! Delightful, I assure you.

My mind raced back to an instance a couple weeks ago. The kids and I were parading upstairs for some reason or another, when Oo got close to T's backside with her camera, and said, "Say cheese, little butt." Click, flash! I got a pretty good chuckle out of it.

Now if only she'd given me the same warning...

Below is the "Little Butt" picture. I've also included some of her other photos. Not all of those below are from the aforementioned photo studies, and none of them feature my tush! But these are some of my favorites, as well as a great view of her world, from her eyes. Enjoy!

Digging Through Dirty Diapers

T's going through a phase right now where he finds hiding places for his things. I open up his PJ drawer, and a bunch of blocks are inside. I take a cookbook off the shelf and there are puzzle pieces behind it. I do laundry, and Fisher Price animals are swimming in the clothes hampers. My daily routine now includes fishing toys out from behind the fridge and under the couches. And as with Oo's phase, I'm sure there are game pieces that -- try as hard as I might -- I will never ever find.

I remember when Oo went through this phase. Seriously, this has to be my LEAST favorite phase during the toddler years.

Now I know that it sounds silly to dislike this phase so intensely. But keep in mind that several times a day I must also dig through the kitchen garbage can and the diaper "pail." Blech! Doing this grosses me out to the point that I have begun to tape the lids shut on the garbage can and diaper pail. It's a little annoying to tape, un-tape and re-tape them all day long, but, believe me, it sure beats the alternative!

Lots of Little Things

The kids have given me a lot of things -- little things -- to write about in the past two weeks. WARNING: If you are not genetically invested in my children, you're going to think I'm nuts for committing such trivial little things to paper... uh, so to speak.

First an update on Oo:

Oo can now get moving on a swing and swing pretty high all on her own. It's something we've been working on since early summer. It didn't take her this long to learn how to pump. It just took her this long to admit that she no longer needs me to push her.


Oo is trying to spell more words phonetically. She is currently focusing her efforts on color names. Without any coaching, she spelled RED, GEEN ("Whoops, I forgot the R.") and BLO.

Oo has started a rock collection. Her collection -- about a 1/2 cup of rocks -- consists primarily of any (and all) pebbles she finds in the dirt under her swings and slide. On Wednesday she kept busy for 45 minutes rinsing each pebble and scrubbing it with an old toothbrush.

Oo did some painting on Thursday. I suggested she paint some Halloween stuff -- pumpkins, bats, ghosts -- but she didn't like that idea. Instead, she painted:
- a stoplight, complete with a purple light (which means "fall down" according to Oo)
- a flower with grass, sun and blue sky
- a self-portrait
But her most elaborate painting of the day focused on her favorite painting subject -- fruit. Every painting "session" of hers involves at least one picture of fruit. I don't know why.


Now an update on T:

It was raining last week as the kids and I were walking out to the car to run errands. Oo loves to jump in puddles, so as we headed to the garage, I watched her with eagle eyes. "Don't step there. Walk around it. No, stay out of the grass!" She kept her shoes totally dry. Victory! And then I turned around to see T sitting in a big puddle, blissfully swirling his fingers around in the water. And back into the house we went for a complete change of clothes.

T has a new trick. He climbs up the step stool to the bathroom sink, turns the water on, and "washes" his face. Then he climbs down and rubs his face with a towel. Sweet! Maybe in 12 years he won't be so stinky as a teenager!

T and Oo both LOVE our next-door neighbors' dog -- a jack russell named Mickey. Last week T was sticking his fingers through the backyard fence so that Mickey would lick them. Our neighbor said to T, "Can you say Mickey? Say Mickey. Mick-eee." T's response was "Mouse."

T likes to balance toys on his head. Big legos, fridge magnets, stacking cups. He's pretty good at it. And the look of pride on his face is always a wry smile.

Dr. No No No No No

T had his follow-up eye exam today. His first eye exam came when he was several months old and I noticed a couple ever-present white specks in his pupil. The pediatric ophthalmologist identified the white specks as a pupillary membrane, which most likely will not effect his vision in any way. During that exam, however, the doctor also noticed that T was quite far-sighted in just his right eye. Many infants grow out of far-sightedness, so today's exam was to see if the vision in his right eye had become more evenly balanced with his left.

It was explained to me that if such an imbalance were allowed to continue, he could, over time, develop a lazy eye. And that if the doctor found the vision in T's eyes to still be drastically imbalanced today, T would have to wear an eye patch over his good eye to train the weaker eye to be stronger. My stomach sank when I heard this -- and yet, it did make coming up with a Halloween costume for T suddenly very easy. Arrr, me hearty!

It was important that the doctor be able to make a good assessment of T's vision. Despite the fact that T has been a MAJOR crab-apple these past few days, that he's cutting two teeth that have bugging him for over a month now, that he has recently begun to explore the joys and power that come with protesting (i.e. his new favorite word is "no")... somehow, despite all this, I needed to get T to cooperate for the exam.

The first person to examine him was a wonderful lady. She charmed the socks off of him, and he responded by telling her what letters he saw up on the wall. Then came those dilating eye drops. Whoo boy, that set him off! From that moment on he was thoroughly ticked off and wanting to go home.

The second person to examine him was a young doctor "in training" with zero personality. He had neither the experience nor the creativity to get T to cooperate. And the doc's blasé demeanor evaporated what little remaining interest T may have had in being there. The doc soon gave up and decided to wait for the specialist to do the exam.

The third person was the pediatric specialist. As he approached us, T shot out a very long and mean glare from under his furrowed brow. When the doctor was not daunted by T's ferocious stare, more drastic measures were needed. T's whole little body hopped into action -- legs kicking, arms swinging, hands pushing, butt wiggling, eyes squinted, face purple. T also screamed, "No no no no no!" just to make sure we didn't misunderstand him.

I felt so bad for my little guy, but we needed the doctor to get a good look inside T's eyes. So, with T in my lap, I held down his legs and arms, the doc-in-training held T's head steady, and the specialist pried T's eyelids open to look inside. The specialist only had, at most, a four-second window to peek into each pupil. My stomach sank again. How were we going to get an accurate examination when T's so miserable?

Fortunately we were dealing with a specialist. In just those few seconds, he was able to see that T's far-sightedness on the right has improved dramatically. T doesn't need an eye patch, and we won't need to have T's eyes examined for two more years. By then, T will understand things better and not be so confused and scared.

Now T is back to his new "normal" level of crabbiness (what, with nearing the age of 2 and cutting teeth, and all). And my stomach is back where it belongs. Still... I think T will sleep fast and deep tonight, and I think I'll have more than a few drinks once the kids are in bed!

Boob Tube

"Reversable change! Mom! Mom! It's the one about reversable change!" That's what Oo said to me during the opening scene of her new favorite show.

I have long been a fan of PBS programming -- even before I had kids. New this fall season is "Sid the Science Kid," a pre-schooler show that serves as an introduction to science. Other kid shows (even those on PBS) usually teach science in the most basic ways (e.g. plants grow, rocks are not alive, winter is cold and summer is hot). But in the month that Sid has been airing, Oo has expanded her vocabulary with words (and what they mean) such as: transformation, observation, scientific experiment, decomposition, compare and contrast.

She understands the difference betwen reversable change (water to ice then back to water) and irreversable change (apples to applesauce cannot go back to apples). She's suggesting experiments we can do together (such as a decay experiment where we closely watched a banana, a strawberry and a blueberry decay over the course of a few weeks). She's questioning more (e.g. Why does this [paddle wheel on her wind-up] bath toy make a breeze when it's not in the water, but when it is in the water, it doesn't?") And she's inquiring about how magnifying glasses, binoculars, and eye glasses work -- what they do that's the same and how are they different.

Last year, PBS introduced "Word World" and "Super Why" -- two highly entertaining shows that have given her a strong introduction to phonics and spelling. She can now tell you the first letter in just about any word. And she tries to figure out the spelling of her friends' names. (She spells Phoebe as "F-E-B." It's obviously not correct, but she does it completely on her own, without any prompting or hints from me.)

I know and believe that too much TV is bad for kids, that it compromises their physical activity and imaginary play. But when it comes to "Sid," Word World" and "Super Why," I can guarantee you that you'll find us sitting on our butts, in front of the tube, completely absorbed... and learning.

P.S. Here's a photo of 8-month-old Oo watching Elmo's World, the only 20 mins. of TV time that she was allowed per day.

Making Progress... sort of

During our last book-gathering trip* to the library (*we also go for story time and to play), we checked out a book called "Tissue Please" by Lisa Kopelke. In the book, Frog sniffs and snorts and wipes his nose on his arm until his parents teach him to use a tissue. Once Frog blows his nose in a tissue, he loves how his nose feels better, and from then on he always uses a tissue for his nose issues.

My hope in getting this book was, as you can imagine, to encourage Oo to start using tissues. Well, we've made some progress.

Now, at least once a day, Oo asks, "Can I have a tissue, please? For my boogie. (Which is big, gross and perched on top of her finger.) I am NOT going to eat it! I'm going to put it in a tissue!" And as she says this, she is beaming with pure pride and accomplishment.

MESS!

We've long referred to T as "Mr. Messy" or "Messy Boy." In typical toddler fashion, he enjoys pulling things off of shelves and out of cupboards. After he does this, Oo often announces, "He is a messy baby, after all!"

T's verbal skills are entering a new phase, and he now says at least two new words a day. What is turning out to be a favorite new word is... of course... "mess." And now after he has yanked books off the shelves, sent A's cd's down crashing onto the floor, or pulled our tupperware out of the cupboard... now, he proudly declares, "Mess!"

Land of Chalk Drawings

Today was Cleveland's annual Chalk Festival. It was our first year to go, and it was much bigger than we expected. There were several featured artists, making large chalk drawings, each one spectacular in either its realism or use of color. For a small fee, you could purchase a box of pastels to add your own chalk drawing to the mix. The sidewalks were covered with hundreds of drawings, and we found it necessary to walk in the grass to admire them without smudging them.
While taking pictures of our favorite drawings, we ran into neighborhood friends, and then we saw more neighborhood friends. This gave Oo two girls to play with, which made the festival suddenly more fun and interesting for her.
After we all enjoyed a leisurely chat and some lunch on the lawn, it was time to mosey about and look at the other drawings, but not before Oo had a chance to add a chalk drawing of her own. Her friends shared their chalk with her, and Oo experimented with layers upon layers of color. It was a departure from her usual smiley faces she chalks onto our driveway at home. Perhaps she saw something today that inspired her.

Fridge Magnets

Warning: Big-time bragging here!

For the past month or so, T has been obsessed with the alphabet magnets on the fridge. He loves pulling them off one by one and throwing them on the floor. He's usually a man of few words, but he started to ask, "Wha zis?" for every letter he held. He'd get so excited when we'd tell him , "That's an M" or "That's a Z -- zoom zoom, zig zag, zip!" All of a sudden he was telling us the letter names and soon reciting his ABC's. His obsession with letters now extends beyond fridge magnets. He loves alphabet puzzle pieces, flash cards, and naming letters whenever and wherever he sees them.

Because he enjoys letters so much, I thought I'd try to teach him his numbers. Earlier this week, I started in the obvious place... I looked him in the eye and said, "One." Smiling wide my 20-month-old looked back at me and said, "Two, fee, or, fi, ix, sev, eight, ni, ten!" No lie!! I have no idea where he learned to count to ten. Maybe by paying close attention to Oo or to Sesame Street. I honestly don't know, but A and I are thrilled!

School!

Oo had her first day of "school" today. She's enrolled in a class called "Imagination Lane," which meets one day a week for two hours. The first day was actually last week, but Oo had the flu and couldn't go. I don't know who was more bummed, her or me?

I dropped T off at Aunt Pandy's, so I could sit in class with Oo on her first day. Then Oo and I made the 25-minute drive to class. (Why enroll in a class so far away? Long story.) The long drive gave us time to go over the teacher's rules: raise your hand and wait to be called on, keep your hands and feet to yourself, and listen to others. You should have seen Oo's face light up when she saw her teacher -- Miss Kelly -- for the first time!

I was so proud of Oo in class. She followed all the rules as best she could, and only a couple times did her excitement get the best of her.

The theme today was leaves. They listened to stories about leaves, did a scavenger hunt for paper leaves (and then counted the leaves and named their colors), glued leaf pictures into a booklet, and made leaves with Play-doh and leaf cookie cutters.

Before we left the building, I had her pose for this picture. She looked a little sad, so I asked her what she thought about her school. She said it was boring and that she didn't learn anything. I was proud that she was able to articulate her disappointment, and I can understand why she felt the way she did. Ah well, at least she IS learning how to behave in a classroom. And that is a lesson she's going to use for years to come.

5...6...Pick Up Sticks

On Sunday we had a massive wind storm, with gusts up to 78mph throughout a 6-hour period. We saw lots of twigs and leaves fall, but the true strength of the storm didn't phase us until a large branch fell down in our front yard. I saw it as it happened, and I let out such a yelp, that Oo's curiosity was suddenly peaked and she desperately wanted to go out to feel the wind in her hair. (No, silly, we did not take her out there.)

Remembering the large tree that fell on our next-door neighbor's house, barely missing ours, we did not want the kids to sleep in their front bedrooms while the high wind warning continued until midnight. So A moved their mattresses into our back bedroom so they could camp out there for the night.

The novelty of mattresses on the floor made it hard for them to settle down and fall to sleep. To get them to nod off, I had to play the role of "bedtime referee." I positioned myself between their make-shift beds and called out the fouls as they happened: "Shhh, no talking. Shhh, no singing. Stay on your bed. You're not allowed on his bed. T, lie down and go nite-nite. Stop fidgeting and just close your eyes. Lie down. Shhh, lie down. Shhh. LIE DOWN!

Eventually they pooped themselves out and I was able to retreat downstairs to watch TV. We checked on them periodically and all seemed well. When we tip-toed into our room shortly after 11:00, we could not find T! He wasn't on his mattress, or next to it. He hadn't climbed into Oo's bed either. After a frantic search in the dark, we found him. He had rolled off his mattress (apparently w/o waking up) and rolled about 4 feet away, laying perpendicularly between our bed and dresser. It was a picture-worthy moment, but after playing referee, I did not want to risk waking them with a camera flash.

The next day (and the 2 days after that), we picked up sticks and twigs in our yard. Oo thought that was fun, and she was a big help. Of course, she did take the occasional break to climb on and through the big branch, pretending she was a jungle explorer.

T couldn't have cared less about the mess in the yard. He was just thrilled to be running around outside while Mommy and Oo were somewhat distracted. Escape artist that he is, he made many attempts to cut through other yards or to run off down the sidewalk. You can imagine why it took us 3 days to pick up all the sticks!

Why Blog?

I had better explain the purpose of this blog, so that anyone who accidentally stumbles upon it is not confused or repulsed. There will be no wit nor wisdom here -- at least, not by design. There isn't much thought behind this blog... I'm usually mentally occupied with the challenges the kids throw at me all day (and too pooped to think at night).

This blog serves primarily as a means to keep informed those who are genetically invested or genuinely interested in the little lives of Oo and T. This blog replaces the quarterly "Oo Updates" that, as some of you may know, have not been emailed out since before T was born.

Being with Oo and T, or any child for that matter, on a 24/7 basis is beyond fascinating. The depth with which you get to know that little person and the observations you are able to make of their intelligence and character development, is completely engrossing... again, that is if you are with them 24/7 or are genetically invested in them.

So if you are curious about Miss Oo and Little T, then please follow along as I record their fun and follies. If you couldn't care less (Hey Nicole, I got it right that time!) about these silly little monkeys, then this is not the blog for you.

A New Era... I mean "Tide"

It was a momentous day today; I did the laundry -- NO, that wasn't the momentous part, PUH-leeease, I do 12 loads of laundry per week. Today I did the laundry and I washed the kids' clothes in the SAME loads as our clothes! That's right, the little pants were mixed with our big pants (much bigger, by the way, than they used to be), little stinky socks mixed with big stinky socks.

I quit using Dreft on Oo and T's clothes earlier this year (also a momentous day), but I continued to wash their clothes separate from ours, as if I was still carefully, lovingly washing newborn onesies and spit rags.

I'm a little sad about this move to mixed laundry -- it signals a new era (not Era, however, we're a Tide family). But all change is good. And perhaps I can knock my laundry down to 10 loads a week. Yea... water conservation!