Out of the Mouths of Babes

Oo doesn't have school today; it's a Teacher In-service Day. The kids woke up before me and made me breakfast. Oo made me my usual — a bowl of FiberOne cereal with soy milk. The bowl of cereal was just about enough food to feed one of her baby dolls, so I made a second bowl when she wasn't looking. T filled a cup with fruity Cherrios, pretzels, and chocolate cookies. He didn't feel brave enough to pour the heavy carton of milk, so he left it dry. (Whew!) I told him he made a very good choice.

In addition to having a long weekend, we also have the pleasure of pet sitting Oo's class pet, a bearded dragon named Murray. Here's a conversation I had with Oo just moments ago...

Oo:  Can I hold Murray?
Me:  Yes.
Oo:  Wait... can I hold Murray?
Me:  I said, "yes."
Oo:  Okay. It's just that my ears... whenever you're talking, they just automatically turn off.

Play-Doh Slave

They say a mom holds many job titles: Nurse, Short-order Cook, Teacher, Friend, Psychologist, Janitor, Laundress, Dietician, Social Director, Chauffeur, Bodyguard, Personal Shopper, Baker, Law Enforcer, Cheerleader, Hair Stylist, Toy Repairman, Tower and Train Track Engineer, Storyteller, Secretary, Mind Reader, Dishwasher, Referee, Librarian, Comfy Chair, and Pack Mule, just to name a few.

Well, I can now add "Play-Doh Slave" to my résumé.

For the past I-don't-know-how-many months, T has been OBSESSED with Angry Birds, which is interesting because we have a no-video-games policy in our house. His first exposure to the birds was a YouTube video we watched together. ("Wait," you say, "there are YouTube videos of Angry Birds?" Yes, not only are there some promotional videos that were made by the company, there are a SLEW of animated videos made by fans.)

Since gaining interest in Angry Birds, T has begun a collection of Angry Birds items. He has two Angry Birds games (not video games, but the kind where you have to build the pigs' houses with blocks), some figurines, an Angry Birds kite, pencil toppers, stickers, plush toys, and an Angry Birds t-shirt that he wants to wear every... single... day.

One of T's favorite videos to watch is of a little boy named Evan who is showing off his collection of Angry Birds that his dad made out of Sculpey clay. That video inspired T to build his own Angry Birds out of Play-Doh. But when he found that his Play-Doh skills didn't quite produce the quality he was looking for, he pouted, and then he blinked those baby blues at me. Now, I'm his Play-Doh Slave.

Anywhere from once to three times a week, T digs out the Play-Doh and I start taking orders. He usually requests the birds in the same order: red, blue, yellow, black, white, etc. Sometimes he wants me to make the birds from the Angry Birds Seasons or Angry Birds Space games, and every now and then he'll dictate the design for a new type of bird. But he ALWAYS wants me to make the pigs — he loves the pigs. Oo gets in on the act too, she's not a fan of the characters, but she likes making her little brother happy.

After the characters are all created, T usually wants pictures taken of them. Once he even made a video that was almost word-for-word the same as Evan's Sculpey-clay video! (I'd post T's video here but it's way too long.) Here are some of our pictures:

Adrian teases me about being a Play-Doh Slave. He says that T has me wrapped around his little pinkie. And yet, since I first started drafting this blog entry, Adrian downloaded Angry Birds onto his phone so T could play the game— yep, breaking the no-video-games rule. So... who's wrapped around the boy's little pinkie now?

A Practical Approach to Interior Design

We're finally going to paint the upstairs bathroom! I've been wanting to do so ever since we painted it 8 years ago. It's a sunshiny yellow, cheery and light. But I don't like it. The yellow makes everything look dingy, and it makes the beautiful azure tiles on the floor look like teal — I hate teal. We decided to paint it white. GASP!! I know, I know, we said we'd never have more than one white room in the house, but white really is the best choice for that bathroom.

On Monday afternoon, I decided to trek to the paint store to get some paint chips. I told the kids to put their shoes on so we could run a quick errand, and I was met with the expected barrage of questions: Where are we going? Do we HAVE to? Do we hafta go NOW? Why do you hafta to paint the bathroom? Why don't you like yellow? What color are you gonna paint it?

When I told the kids we were going to paint it white, T did not take the news well:

T: (in a loud, panicky voice) But you CAN'T paint it white because then the WHOLE potty will be camouflaged!!!  (a pause, then very quietly...)  I won't be able to find the potty.

Overheard

Yesterday, Oo was reading the Sunday funnies from the newspaper, when she said something that I can honestly say I've never in my life heard anyone express...

Oo: [squeal!!] Mary Worth is getting so exciting!

Halloween Fun

We had a wonderful Halloween season.  Yes, it's become a season at our house — what, with the costume planning, decorating, baking, trip to the pumpkin farm, school parties...  There's far too much to write about, so I'm going to let pictures tell some of the story.

Here we are ready to embark on a hay ride at the pumpkin farm.  You can't see the hay or the ride in this pic, but you can see my stylin' family sporting their cool shades.  Thank goodness it didn't rain that day; it was the last day we were available to get our pumpkins!

This was the first year we felt the kids were up for the challenge of the corn maze — why don't they call it a "maize maze?"  Just a thought.  Anyway... the kids had a blast!  T loves to solve mazes, so the chance to actually be inside a maze was a big thrill for him.

And here's the money shot...

To pass out to our trick-or-treating friends, we baked chocolate cream cheese cut-out cookies with almond icing.  Deee-lish!  This batch was decorated by Miss Oo.  The cookie in the center was her experiment to see what would happen to candy corn in the oven.

This next batch was decorated by T, with a little help.  Notice the ghosts... it was important to T that he make each one say something different.

Costumes! Oo was a black and white kitty, and T went as a little monkey.  Oo originally wanted to be an alligator, but she decided instead to be a cat when the only alligator costumes I could find were for infants.  And T had wanted to be a gorilla, but he was happy when we found a monkey costume.  They went easy on me — they know I can't sew.

 

The kids picked out the designs for their pumpkins from a carving-idea book and the Internet.  Adrian carved his and Oo's pumpkins: R2D2 and a kitty-bat.

I carved "The Scream" for me and a skull face for T.  He doesn't usually like scary things, but he said his pumpkin HAD TO be scary for Halloween.

Adrian took the kids around trick-or-treating while I stayed home and manned the fort... and the candy bowls.  Oo covered four blocks — double the territory she covered last year.  T only lasted for one and a half blocks before calling it quits because he was tired.  After he dumped out his candy bag on the porch to peruse his spoils, we cuddled, passed out candy, and watched a couple of raccoons climb out of and around a hole in our front yard's tree.  Here is a picture of us snuggling.  (He's pretending to be asleep.)

Before the evening was over, T had planned his costume for next year and Oo had managed to squeeze in an impromptu playdate at a neighbor's house and sort half of her major candy haul.  A jam-packed evening of fun, and yet we somehow managed to get the kids tucked in by 8:30.  But that wasn't the end of the excitement..

...by Wednesday morning, the raccoons had eaten R2D2 and kicked Oo's pumpkin off the steps.  After I took this picture I noticed the look of horror on my pumpkin's face.

Even funnier was T's reaction... holy cow!... he was majorly PO'd!!  I tried to get some video of his ranting and stomping, but he caught me doing it and gave me a look that could kill.

Minus One

We lost a member of our little family last week. Pretzel. Her health has been slowly declining for several months now, but things took a turn for the worse when she stopped eating. The vet found tumors on her bladder, but some lab work showed no cancerous cells, only signs of infection. Antibiotics did nothing to help her appetite and had no effect on the tumors. The vet and I talked about our options: more lab work, x-rays, appetite stimulants and possibly chemo, but it felt cruel of me to lay out a plan for more meds and vet visits. Pretzel HATED going to the vet; while there, she would tremble and yowl and pee on the exam table. And after a vet visit, she would be terrified of me for the next two days — fearful that I was going to put her in her carrier and take her back there.

Since I couldn't ask Pretzel about how she felt about the situation, I had to make the call on my own. I wanted to take her home with me, but for what? So she could starve for a few more days?

Oo was at school, but I had T with me at the vet's. I told him to give her a little pat on the head and tell her that we love her. We left the room while the vet put her to sleep, but I went back in alone afterwards to say goodbye. In hind sight, I should've taken T in with me because not seeing her afterwards left him full of the questions and confusion I was trying to spare him.

When we picked Oo up from the car line at school, T blurted out that Pretzel was dead before Oo was fully in the car. I had been preparing Oo by telling her that we didn't have much more time to be with Pretzel and she seemed fine and understanding. But the finality of the situation sent her into sobs, and the three of us spent the following half hour piled up in a mopey heap together on the couch.

After our snuggle time, Oo set to work, cleaning the family room. She picked up the toys and books and even straightened out all the couch pillows and TV remotes. As she proudly displayed her work to me, I couldn't believe all the effort she had gone through to cheer me up. But then she said, "See? Aren't I responsible?" (She knows that we're waiting for her and T to grow up a little more and become "responsible" before we're get a new pet... That girl doesn't waste any time.)

Even though she seemed to have pulled herself together quickly and put her eye on the prize, Oo got weepy a few times over the next couple days. She's feeling better now though, and she's proud that she and Pretzel became friends before the end.

So back to T, and his confusion... During dinner, on the day that Pretzel passed away, T told me:

Mom, I don't want to be dead. Because if I be dead then I wouldn't be able to do all the important stuff... like... watch videos or ride Oo's bike or bounce on Hannah's trampoline. If I be dead, then all I could do is ride in the wagon like...

And then he made a contorted pose and held it as if rigor mortis had set in. Where does he get these ideas?? I should've let him see the cat.

New Cat... sort of

Our cat, Pretzel, is one nervous kitty. Despite that she's been with us for over 11 years, few people know that we have a pet — even fewer have actually seen her. And it's not just visitors that she hides from. Ever since Oo was a toddler, Pretzel hides from us too, during the day, only to surface at night once the children are in bed and no longer a threat to her.

Pretzel wasn't always afraid of our kids. Her fear comes from the days when Oo was nearly a toddler. Whether mad or happily excited, little Oo could unleash a high-pitched shriek that could shatter glass. One day, Oo noticed that Pretzel's ears fold down during these shrieks. (I wish my ears could have performed such a stunt!) Oo was fascinated with this control she had over the cat's ears, and she began to abuse her new-found power. Pretzel's eardrums (and nerves!) couldn't handle all the shrieking, and so Pretzel decided to avoid Oo altogether. T never played tricks on Pretzel, so occasionally she would come out when Oo wasn't around, however, she'd always maintain a safe distance.

The kids have always been frustrated with Pretzel. It stinks having a pet that you can't play with and hardly ever see. They've asked MANY times to get a new kitten to play with, but we've explained to them that a playful kitten might be too much for an old cat like Pretzel to handle. And so the kids wait... for Pretzel to die. It's horrible! They often ask us, "Is Pretzel going to die soon?" And while this is a frequent occurrence, it never ceases to stun Adrian and I. Did they just say that?!?

We don't want the kids to view pets as possessions that can be replaced when old and worn out. So my response to their inquiries is always:

1. Pretzel is part of our family, and we love her no matter what;
2. you can't replace a family member when they die;
3. when you become a pet owner, you promise to take very good care of that pet, forever; and
4. Daddy and I think we should take a break from being pet owners after Pretzel dies, so we probably won't be getting a new kitten for a long, long time.

That last point always ends the discussion, that is until Pretzel shuns them the next day, frustration returns, and the death watch begins anew. This summer, however, Oo's frustration went to a whole new level — and she decided to take action. Oo is always thinking, always problem solving — a trait of hers that one could praise or curse, depending on whether or not she's arguing against you.

We were planning a trip to the library, and she decided that she needed to check out books about cats. She wanted to see if she could train Pretzel to like her. We poured over a few books about cats in the juvenile section and settled on one called "How to Speak Cat." When we returned home, she ignored all the story books and first readers we also picked out for her and focused solely on the cat book. When she was done, she told me that we had to go to the pet store to get some new treats for Pretzel.

At the pet store the next day, we studied the selection of cat treats, discussing which flavors Pretzel likes best and squeezing the bags to see which treats were the softest. We left the store with Oo clutching a bag of salmon-flavored Whisker Lickin's and wearing a look of focused determination on her face.

Later that evening...


... a total transformation in Pretzel! She let Oo pet her for the FIRST time, they played together with a piece of string, and Pretzel rubbed against Oo's legs and face. And it wasn't just when Pretzel was being offered a treat! By the next day Oo even taught T how to hold steady long enough until Pretzel would eat a treat out of his hand, and then he was petting Pretzel and playing with her too!

Our cat, who before would never let the kids get within 3 feet of her, is now hanging out with us during the day — between cat naps, of course. She also meows during our dinner because she's fed and rested and wants someone to play with.

Oo is reading over my shoulder as I write this. (She approves of what I've written and says I should hurry up and post it.) I should add before I sign off that Oo just came downstairs from snuggling with our cat.