Bed, Bed & Beyond

First of all, thank you to those who answered my plea in the last posting and signed Jamie Oliver's petition. As promised, since more signatures were added, I'm posting more pics and stories of the kids:

Last weekend, Adrian and I dropped the kids off with grandparents and headed to Ikea for some fun shopping. Our mission: 1) a twin bed for Oo so that T could move out of the crib and into Oo's toddler bed; 2) new bedding to fit Oo's new bed; and 3) a bookcase for T. After a four-hour round-trip drive and four hours in the store (there's just so much to look at!!), we were successful. And since the kids were having an overnighter with the grandparents, we were able to come home, disassemble the crib, assemble the new bed and bookcase, rearrange the rooms, and wash the new bedding. All that and we were still able to go to bed by 3am!

Waking up without children bouncing on us was a very weird experience. You'd think that we'd want to enjoy the quiet morning, leisurely sipping hot coffee and reading the newspaper uninterrupted, but we were too anxious to get the kids and bring them home. You see... they knew nothing about our redecorating plans. All of this was a total surprise.

We played it cool when we got home. Adrian went upstairs first and convinced T to tag along with him. We figured that it would be best to let T see the changes first—giving him a chance to react in his own laid-back way. We knew that if Oo was the first one to see the bedrooms there would be so much squealing and jumping around that we wouldn't really get to hear T's reaction to the whole thing.

We videotaped the kids' reactions (darn cute footage), but ARGGG! our video camera is not compatible with our laptop—a frustrating discovery I made this week. Alas, since I cannot show you the video as I had planned, I took some pictures yesterday. I hope the pics will give you an idea of how thrilled they were to see their new rooms.

The picture below is T standing in front of his new "Book Club." He always refers to Oo's bookcase as her "Book Club" (which drives Oo nuts), and now he has a Book Club of his very own. A decorating aside: the curtains were purchased at Ikea eight years ago, and the striped canvas bins were purchased at Target this week. A perfect match. What amazing luck!


T insisted I take the following picture of him playing with his moose, named Chocolate.


And below is T on his big-boy bed. He's excited about it, but he's a little worried about his crib, which we put in the attic before we brought the kids home. "Where'd my crib go? I think it went up into the sky!" Is he talking about a crib heaven??

In the picture there are two sharks. On the pillow is T's shark, Speeka. While Adrian and I were shopping for Oo's new bedding and curtains, etc., we began to feel like T was getting short-changed, so we bought him a stuffed animal—a shark that is a much bigger version of Speeka. T has named the new shark... you're not going to believe this... Big Speeka. The shark was definitely THE highlight of the new decor as far as T is concerned.


Below is a picture of T and Oo wearing "hats."


And now for Oo's room! Oo's new bed is a twin-sized mid-loft. A two-rung ladder on the side gets her up to her bed. The ladder has proven to be a major source of entertainment for the kids. Up the ladder. Down the ladder. Up the ladder. Down the ladder. Up the ladder. You get the picture.


We put the bed where her Book Club used to be. The loft fits very nicely there and, despite it's height, it doesn't make her room feel crowded. The empty curtain rod on the wall is where a quilt used to hang. I'll be moving the quilt over to another wall and hanging her name alongside her bed. Like her tiara? She insisted on wearing it for these pictures.

Below is Oo with her books. I confess... I posed her for this picture. She doesn't normally rest her feet on the ottoman. She'd much rather use it as a step stool to help her reach the fragile keepsakes we keep on top of her dresser.


The next picture shows the play space below Oo's bed. We outfitted it with a few floor pillows and a small table and lamp. I have sheer, sparkly, hot pink curtains to hang across the opening; I just need to fire up the ol' sewing machine (yuck!) to hem the bottoms. I also need to hem her new window curtains—they match her bedspread.


Aside from the kids' total surprise and delight with their rooms, there have been a few reactions that we were not expecting. The first of these is that the kids don't crawl into our bed in the middle of the night, every night. In the past week, Oo and T have only had one instance each of sneaking into our bed. Are they more comfortable in their new beds? Do they think our bed is lame compared to theirs? I don't know; I don't care. I'm just glad I'm not getting kicked and elbowed in the head every morning.

The next reaction we weren't expecting is that both kids are sleeping later. On Friday, T didn't get up until 8:15. EIGHT FIFTEEN!! This from the child who used to be happy to start his day at 5:30.

Another unforeseen reaction: T doesn't want to be rocked at bedtime anymore. When we rearranged T's room, Adrian wanted to put the rocking chair in the attic. The sentimental mom in me crumbled when I heard this. So much baby-mom bonding happened in that chair. Many bottles were fed while mom and baby locked eyes with each other. Slow rocking and lullabies ended every evening for the past five years. Many long, middle-of-the-night wakings were toughed out in that chair. Boo-boos and upset stomachs were soothed away with big hugs and rocking in that chair. A library full of books were read in that chair. I wasn't ready to put the chair in the attic. Uh-uh. No way.

But I guess I'll have to part with the chair soon anyway. Not only does T not want to rock to sleep in it, he doesn't want to read bedtime stories in it anymore either. Right after brushing his teeth, he climbs into bed and asks me to turn out the light. All T needs at night is Purple Bunny, Speeka, and Big Speeka, snuggled up with him in his tiny little bed. It's amazing to see him suddenly so independent.

It is also amazing that the kids are able to sleep so soundly. You would think they'd be roused by Adrian and I tip-toeing into their rooms over and over again to see how content and cute they look sleeping in their new beds. Hmmm... I wonder if I could take some pics to show you...

"Zzzzzzzz... BRIGHT FLASH! Waaaaaaah!! What was that? Mom, that scared me! I need to sleep in your and daddy's bed!"

Um, yeah. Sorry. Those pics aren't going to happen.

Food Revolution

Children today are expected to live 10 years LESS than their parents.

Thirty-two percent of our nation's children are obese or overweight.

Shocked? Horrified? I am.

Maybe you've seen ads for Chef Jamie Oliver's TV show "Food Revolution" — named after a health movement he has organized. And hopefully you've even tuned in to watch an episode or two. The premise: Jamie Oliver is putting his whole heart into changing the health of our children. His approach involves improving school lunches by replacing things like chicken nuggets, frozen pizza and french fries with fresh food and locally grown produce. Among other things, Jamie is teaching lunch ladies how to cook from scratch, showing school administration how to purchase healthy food within their budget, and most importantly, making Americans aware of the crap that we're feeding ourselves and our children. (I've included a few links below if you want to learn more.)

As part of his health movement, Jamie is asking for people to sign a petition. This petition is a show of hands — to show government and industry how many of us care about the health of children and what they get fed at school. The petition reads as follows:

I support the Food Revolution. America's kids need better food at school and better health prospects. We need to keep cooking skills alive.

That is all it says. A simple statement about a serious problem. Please add your voice to the 522,234 people who have signed to date. Click here to sign the petition online.

For more information:

- Check out this speech given by Jamie. You won't regret spending 20 minutes of your time to watch it.

- Watch this promo for the Food Revolution show.

- Visit Jamie's Food Revolution website.

Okay, so you sign the petition, and I will promise lots of updates on the kids in my next blog post. And believe me, we've been busy around here — there is a lot to fill you in on.

Hugs!

Quick Quote

After T had been sitting on the potty for a while, I went into the bathroom to check on him.


Me: Hey bubby, are you all done?

T: No, I not all done. I trying to poop out a rainbow.

Me: A rainbow?!?

T: Yeah, a rainbow. First I gonna poop out red and orange and lellow and even violet!


You know, I never in my life imagined that I could feel apprehensive about seeing a rainbow. Until now.

Doing the Bunny Bop

When she was younger, Oo and her bops were good buddies. And since using a bop was not affecting her speech development, I wasn't too concerned about breaking her of the habit. I even thought that she may give them up on her own. She loved/loves to talk and the bop kind of got in her way, so she weened herself down to using it just when she was sleepy or needed a little comfort.


However, once T was born, I grew tired of keeping track of two sets of bops—keeping them clean, making sure they weren't interchanged with the other kid's bops, and always knowing where the bops were at naptime or bedtime. So, shortly after Oo turned 3, we took her bops away.

Following a friend's advice, we gave Oo's bops to Santa's baby reindeer. On Christmas Eve, Oo lovingly put ALL of her bops on a plate next to the cookies for Santa and carrots for the reindeer. You see, we had been let in on a little secret: Santa leaves a special, extra present for children who give their bops to the baby reindeer. Great opportunity to break the bop habit, right? Wrong!! After we put Oo to bed, we had some final preparations for Santa's visit and we needed to wrap the presents from Mommy and Daddy. But instead, we were kept very busy consoling a sad little girl who was too upset to fall asleep.

This Christmas, T was just a couple weeks shy of turning 3—a good age, we think, for giving up bops. Needless to say, we did NOT give them to the baby reindeer. Taking a different approach, we checked a book out of the library called "Little Bunny's Pacifier Plan," in which a dentist gives a gentle (and far more sane) plan for breaking Little Bunny of his bop habit. Step 1: the bop never leaves the house. Step 2 (a week later): the bop stays in his bedroom. Step 3 (another week later): the bunny has to sit in the chair in his room to use his bop. Step 4: he gets tired of spending time in his chair and realizes there's more fun to be had without the bop. T liked to use his own bop to act out the story when I read it, and without any suggestion from me, he declared that he, too, had a bop plan. His plan mirrored that in the book.


We had five strong days of Step 1, before T started sneaking bops outside in his pockets. And often, while driving merrily along in our car, I would suddenly tune in to the "slurk, slurk" sound of him sucking on his bop in the back seat. It looked like I would have to renew the book with the library for three more weeks, and start over with Step 1.

Or... (insert angel choir singing an epiphanous "Aaaaaaaaa" here)... we could just donate the bops to the Easter Bunny's babies. Yes! Adrian and I decided that's what we'd do. After all, prepping the house for the Easter Bunny isn't nearly as involved as getting ready for Santa.

After plans were set with the Easter Bunny, I excitedly told T about the special gift the Easter Bunny gives to children who give their bops to the baby bunnies. And thanks to the illustrations in "Little Bunny's Pacifier Plan," it was really easy for T to visualize baby bunnies sucking on bops.

On Friday night, we did a test-run. Fridays are Movie Night, so it was late (9:15) before the kids were going to bed. It was Adrian's turn to rock T and read him a bedtime story. As always, T asked for his bop, but Adrian said he didn't know where T's bop was. T responded, "I just want to go nigh-night." He was too tired to put up a fuss, and he slept peacefully through the night.

On Saturday night, we had a tiny green pail that we filled with Easter grass. We gave T his four bops, said how proud we were of him, and told him to put his bops in the pail for the Easter Bunny. We also reminded T of the special present that the Easter Bunny gives to kids who give bops to the baby bunnies. T stood there and hesitated. He put one bop in his mouth, clutched a bop in each hand, and rolled the fourth bop around on the floor with his bare toes. My heart sank a little, and I felt tears well up.

But he did it! He made it through another night without a bop, and he is now completely bop-free. With the help of Easter candy and his thank-you present from the Easter Bunny, T didn't miss his bop very often on Sunday, but when he did, he'd melt into a sad sack of potatoes. Here is a picture of T checking out the rocket ship that the Easter Bunny left for him:


Today was much harder for the little guy. Mondays, to begin with, are always hard around here—the kids miss Adrian terribly when he heads back into the weekday grind. T asked many, many times for his bop today. He searched in all the usual places for a bop: under his bed, in my pocket, behind the bananas on the kitchen counter. When I reminded him that the baby bunnies now had the bops, he'd slump down to the floor. I told him I was proud of him, and I gave him lots of extra hugs and back rubs. Usually that helped matters, but there were a couple times where he clenched his fists, glared at me with angry eyes, and let go with a fierce roar. But just as quickly as he lost his cool, he composed himself and told me, "I yelled at you. I'm sorry, Mom."

And I felt tears well up.

Save That Other Planet

Oo has a new obsession: the former planet Pluto. She first learned of Pluto last summer, when we bought a floor puzzle of the solar system. As she and I worked on the puzzle, we talked about the sun, planets, comets, and other celestial bodies illustrated in the puzzle. And as you can see in the picture below, Pluto has tears streaming down its face.


She was very curious about why Pluto is sad, and I told her that it may be because Pluto used to be a planet but isn't any more. After that, whenever she puts the puzzle together, she asks why Pluto is sad—not because she doesn't remember my answer, but because she's hoping for a reason that doesn't sound so grim.

This Friday, we received a shipment from Amazon, which included among other things, Martha Stewart's "Cupcakes" cookbook (yum!) and the They Might Be Giants' DVD/CD set entitled "Here Comes Science." A song on the album—"How Many Planets?"—teaches kids the names and order of the planets in our solar system. The song also addresses the Pluto situation and explains why, in 2006, the International Astronomical Union reclassified Pluto as a dwarf planet.


The song has re-ignited Oo's interest in Pluto, but with much fervor. After watching the song's video, she pounded her fist into the palm of her hand and declared, "I will not rest until Pluto is a planet again." Her approach to free Pluto from its sorrow involves contacting the government and telling them they must change Pluto back into a planet. To this plan I nodded my head, not daring to inform her that the government is pretty busy with other stuff right now.

Her devotion to Pluto is unfailing. She has been composing ballads to Pluto:

Pluto, oh Pluto, I will always be your friend.
Don't worry, oh Pluto, you'll be a planet again.

She has made a couple drawings of her and Pluto holding hands (notice, Pluto is now smiling):


She also challenges me multiple times throughout the day to name all of the planets. When I name them—Mercury through Neptune—she gets really ticked off at me for not including Pluto. A teeny, tiny part of me enjoys getting a rise out of her. A little tit for tat, if you will.*


* While wearing a mischievous grin, Oo admitted to Adrian this weekend that she likes to ask us "Why?" over and over and over. She calls it "The Why? Game." I call it "Let's Fluster Mommy."

St. Patrick's Cookies

A Happy Belated St. Patrick's Day to all of you!

We celebrated simply this year, as we usually do — green paper shamrocks taped to the front door, Adrian's fabulous corned beef pizza, and of course, the wearing of the green. Add to that, however, St. Patrick's Day cookies, which I volunteered to bake for the party at Oo's preschool.

I found a delicious cookie recipe online: Blarney Stone Kisses. So yummy! I made the dough on Monday, let it chill overnight, and then sliced and baked the cookies on Tuesday. T stayed close by my side during the whole process. While the cookies were cooling on the racks, he stared at them longingly (and without much patience). After a time, he informed me:

T: Hey Mom, these cookies are sad.

Me: Yeah? Why is that?

T: Because they want frosting on their head.

Much to T's delight, the next step was to drizzle green icing over the cookies and top each one with a Hershey's Kiss. Here is a picture of T excitedly enjoying one of the many Blarney Stone cookies he has eaten this week.

Ballet Party

I have a ton of house cleaning to do right now—we have a new sitter coming tonight, and I'm always nervous when someone sees our house for the first time—so I must make this post brief.

Oo went to a friend's birthday party this afternoon that was held in a ballet studio. She had an amazing amount of fun! Here are a couple pics: