I had wonderful intentions of posting something very clever yesterday but I was so busy with all my prepping and cooking and hosting and trying new dishes and successfully making turkey gravy with no pan drippings that I didn't get around to it. I'm sure you're devastated. That being said, we had a fantastic day. My cousin Sarah and her boyfriend Adam came into town from Annapolis and a couple from our squadron joined us with their two kids.
The first highlight of turkey day '08 was Sarah's contribution: an Afghani pumpkin dish that she's been wanting to try (I believe her quote was something along the lines of, "I figured I'm in college and can bring something totally strange.") So it was sauteed and roasted pumpkin topped with a tomato meat sauce and garlic yogurt. I'll give you a second to process that. She made most of it ahead of time, but after making the meat sauce, she and Adam decided that it might be better over pasta so they had that part for dinner the night before they got here. That left us with the pumpkin (sauteed and roasted here) and the yogurt sauce. The sauce was so garlicky that when Sarah took the lid off of it to stir it, the entire kitchen immediately smelled like it was inside a garlic press. Fast forward to the chaotic few minutes prior to sitting down for dinner (you know, the time where EVERYONE is in your kitchen, looking for something to help you with and you really want to say, "then just get out of my space for two seconds and sit down at the table where dinner will begin momentarily" but to do so would be rude so you just bob and weave your way around the crowd) and Adam was tasked with getting the sauce out for the pumpkin. I'm not sure what happened except that all of a sudden there was yogurt sauce everywhere. It went down the cabinets and onto the floor in an interesting spray pattern and everyone kind of just froze. We might have been a little paralyzed by the smell, but we also were torn between shock and hilarity. We salvaged a few tablespoons out of the bowl and I think everyone was very sporting in trying it. I'll admit, I only ate the pumpkin because somehow the raging garlic didn't scream Thanksgiving to me. Maybe next time.
Highlight #2 was that Olivia (our friend) called last week to say they'd be happy to bring their turkey fryer over and deep fry our main dish. That was an easy call! Not only did it free up the oven and, therefore, make all my meal-timing issues much less challenging, but man oh man it was so tasty. And Mag did all the work. He offered to let me or Jeff carve, but I opted out knowing that we would merely hack it apart and he seemed to be confident in the task. I failed to take a picture of our lovely Thanksgiving table (8.5 years into our marriage and we finally used all our china, including the gravy boat!) complete with the PILE of turkey on the platter in the middle but it was a sight to behold. We had dish after dish of yummy food and then we had stacks and stacks of leftovers. But isn't that the best part? We just gorged ourselves again for lunch today.
And as I was divvying up all the leftovers last night, I realized how very much we have. Not just in food, but in shelter and friends and family and love and comfort and just all the things that make for a very satisfying life. And I thought of all the people who might be hungry or cold or lonely or wondering what tomorrow will bring and it made me realize that I am truly blessed in the most fundamental ways. And while I am grateful that a singular Thursday in November makes me focus on the good, my real hope is that on a random Tuesday in February I can see those blessings in the same light.
Now if you'll excuse me, I am currently thankful for a full belly, a comfy chair and a sleeping toddler. I'm off to nap.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Heard and Not Seen
We're in the kitchen, Wyatt's in footed pj's and I have my back turned. So all I heard was the thump and the sound of something rattling on the pantry door. I turned around to see Wyatt sprawled feet first into the open door, one foot slightly wedged under the wire shelf on the door.
Before I can get a word out, I hear a little voice say, "don't worry! I okay! I chasing Millie."
Whew! And for a second there I thought I was still in charge around here.
Before I can get a word out, I hear a little voice say, "don't worry! I okay! I chasing Millie."
Whew! And for a second there I thought I was still in charge around here.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Animal
Despite the arctic (yes, I know it's going to get worse before it gets better) temperatures today, I told Wyatt we could go to the park to play soccer before going to get a turkey at Kroger's. So as we're venturing out the door, this was our conversation:
W: We go park, Mommy!
Me: Yes, until we get too cold and then do you remember where we're going?
W: Kogos!
Me: Yes, and what are we getting there?
W: Ummmmm.....HAM! (laughing)
Me: You're a ham, Wyatt! Are you a ham?
W: No Mommy!
Me: No? Then what are you?
W: A monkey!
See? Even he admits it.
W: We go park, Mommy!
Me: Yes, until we get too cold and then do you remember where we're going?
W: Kogos!
Me: Yes, and what are we getting there?
W: Ummmmm.....HAM! (laughing)
Me: You're a ham, Wyatt! Are you a ham?
W: No Mommy!
Me: No? Then what are you?
W: A monkey!
See? Even he admits it.
Nine Days Early
A few members of my family might recall the last time we saw our dog, Loafer, was about 15 years ago when I let him during a pizza delivery. It was so cold that as he was peeing on the front porch, I think it froze mid-stream. I took the pizza to the kitchen then returned to let the dog back in. Only he wasn't there. He was gone and it was for good, despite canvassing the neighborhood and yelling my head off. I've always been accused of not looking after Loafer on that day, but he was so old and I swear (with blogosphere as my witness) that it was mere minutes that he was on the icy bricks out front.
Fast forward. Yesterday was hectic and involved me watching a friend's girls all afternoon while prepping for a fundraiser last night at a local store. So I pre-ordered the pizza for the sitter and Wyatt, asking that it show up at 5:20 since Chelsea was coming at 5:30. Of course yesterday was a day that Wyatt woke up early from nap, completely out of sorts, then slept on me for another hour (not complaining - it's so blissful to be camped out in my favorite chair, DVR list ready to watch with a sleeping kid and a kicking baby. I thought that I might like to bottle that moment for future use), so I was running behind. And then of course the pizza showed up 20 minutes early and at the exact same time as our neighbor's kid delivering the fundraiser box of Krispy Kremes I ordered. Cacophony erupted because Wyatt thought I was leaving him, then he saw the donuts and was yelling, "I want donut! Donuts donuts yay donuts!" and the pizza man needed me to sign the slip and it was freezing and windy (it snowed for about five minutes yesterday) and the door was open and Millie was barking and jumping and just CHAOS for about 2 minutes.
Then I got Wyatt herded in, donuts and pizza to the kitchen, sorted through Wyatt's sobs to figure out he was unhappy with my imminent departure and my plan for him to eat pizza before donuts, got him set up at his red table in the family room and we sat down to eat. At 5:20, Chelsea showed up and rang the doorbell. Immediately, I noticed Millie didn't bark. Red flag. So I let Chelsea in and told her I just realized I don't know where the dog is. Wyatt's sobbing again, but I throw on my coat, scarf and shoes to step out and yell for her. A minute later, she's still not there and panic is setting in. And also? I'm not changed for the fundraiser I'm hosting, I haven't loaded all the appetizers/drinks/cups/etc. in the car and I need to leave in ten minutes.
So I come back in, tell Chelsea to help herself to pizza while I go out looking for Millie. I promise you, this is a dog that never leaves our yard. Ever. All the neighbors comment on how good she is at just hanging out. And of course we don't keep her collar on her because she's so good and it's so jingly. And it's the coldest night of the year. So I start yelling, walking through all the backyards down to the golf course, back through the cul-de-sac, eyeing the neighbors' back porches for signs of Millie begging at someone else's door. No luck. So I get the phone to call Jeff at work because really, how am I supposed to find the dog and go host this thing in five minutes? And of course he doesn't answer his office phone because he's in the back and I can't find the freaking recall roster for the ops desk number because he's "put it away" so I'm cursing myself for losing the dog and cursing him for being organized and cursing myself some more for not being more ready for this thing and cursing, just, in general.
I get in the car, window down, screaming for Millie while cruising the neighborhood not wanting to go look on the four lane road that's only a block away because I know I cannot handle and unwell Millie any more than I can handle a missing Millie. I also find the ops desk number and when the nice airman tells me that Jeff's in the back (which I told her already) and do I have that number? I try to calmly, assertively and without crying tell her that no, I do not have that number and that she needs to find him because it's his wife and it's kind of an emergency. Jeff finally picks up and I tell him that Millie's missing. Just gone. And then I was crying because seriously? Twice in one life I can lose a dog because of a pizza guy? And this is our Millie girl and it's so cold and it's so dark and she's so very gone and I just don't know what to do.
Jeff says he's on his way. So I turn the corner and notice a minivan cruising with its hazards on. I am still crying, yelling, panicking and the guy pulls up across from me, rolls down his window with a smile on his face and I ask if he's seen a little black and white dog. He punches a button, the side door slides open and there's three cute little blond kids loving on my Millie. And then I completely lost it. They found her, one cul-de-sac the opposite way and figured someone was out looking for her. So as I'm stumbling over my thank you's and oh my gosh's and thank you so much's and my name's Stephanie and I'm so sorry and thank you SO MUCH while crying and putting Millie in my car, I hear one of the kids say, "so I guess that's her dog?"
I quickly called Jeff back and told her she was found and that he didn't need to come home. He said he would anyway but I assured him everything and everyone was safe and sound. So he called me again, twenty minutes later, as I was on my way to the fundraiser and asked if I was okay. Turns out I was still shaken because, as much as my family didn't think the Loafer incident scarred me, I can assure you it did. Especially when I thought it was all happening again. So next week when we're all being aware of all we should be thankful for, my family - with four-legged members included - will be top of my list.
Fast forward. Yesterday was hectic and involved me watching a friend's girls all afternoon while prepping for a fundraiser last night at a local store. So I pre-ordered the pizza for the sitter and Wyatt, asking that it show up at 5:20 since Chelsea was coming at 5:30. Of course yesterday was a day that Wyatt woke up early from nap, completely out of sorts, then slept on me for another hour (not complaining - it's so blissful to be camped out in my favorite chair, DVR list ready to watch with a sleeping kid and a kicking baby. I thought that I might like to bottle that moment for future use), so I was running behind. And then of course the pizza showed up 20 minutes early and at the exact same time as our neighbor's kid delivering the fundraiser box of Krispy Kremes I ordered. Cacophony erupted because Wyatt thought I was leaving him, then he saw the donuts and was yelling, "I want donut! Donuts donuts yay donuts!" and the pizza man needed me to sign the slip and it was freezing and windy (it snowed for about five minutes yesterday) and the door was open and Millie was barking and jumping and just CHAOS for about 2 minutes.
Then I got Wyatt herded in, donuts and pizza to the kitchen, sorted through Wyatt's sobs to figure out he was unhappy with my imminent departure and my plan for him to eat pizza before donuts, got him set up at his red table in the family room and we sat down to eat. At 5:20, Chelsea showed up and rang the doorbell. Immediately, I noticed Millie didn't bark. Red flag. So I let Chelsea in and told her I just realized I don't know where the dog is. Wyatt's sobbing again, but I throw on my coat, scarf and shoes to step out and yell for her. A minute later, she's still not there and panic is setting in. And also? I'm not changed for the fundraiser I'm hosting, I haven't loaded all the appetizers/drinks/cups/etc. in the car and I need to leave in ten minutes.
So I come back in, tell Chelsea to help herself to pizza while I go out looking for Millie. I promise you, this is a dog that never leaves our yard. Ever. All the neighbors comment on how good she is at just hanging out. And of course we don't keep her collar on her because she's so good and it's so jingly. And it's the coldest night of the year. So I start yelling, walking through all the backyards down to the golf course, back through the cul-de-sac, eyeing the neighbors' back porches for signs of Millie begging at someone else's door. No luck. So I get the phone to call Jeff at work because really, how am I supposed to find the dog and go host this thing in five minutes? And of course he doesn't answer his office phone because he's in the back and I can't find the freaking recall roster for the ops desk number because he's "put it away" so I'm cursing myself for losing the dog and cursing him for being organized and cursing myself some more for not being more ready for this thing and cursing, just, in general.
I get in the car, window down, screaming for Millie while cruising the neighborhood not wanting to go look on the four lane road that's only a block away because I know I cannot handle and unwell Millie any more than I can handle a missing Millie. I also find the ops desk number and when the nice airman tells me that Jeff's in the back (which I told her already) and do I have that number? I try to calmly, assertively and without crying tell her that no, I do not have that number and that she needs to find him because it's his wife and it's kind of an emergency. Jeff finally picks up and I tell him that Millie's missing. Just gone. And then I was crying because seriously? Twice in one life I can lose a dog because of a pizza guy? And this is our Millie girl and it's so cold and it's so dark and she's so very gone and I just don't know what to do.
Jeff says he's on his way. So I turn the corner and notice a minivan cruising with its hazards on. I am still crying, yelling, panicking and the guy pulls up across from me, rolls down his window with a smile on his face and I ask if he's seen a little black and white dog. He punches a button, the side door slides open and there's three cute little blond kids loving on my Millie. And then I completely lost it. They found her, one cul-de-sac the opposite way and figured someone was out looking for her. So as I'm stumbling over my thank you's and oh my gosh's and thank you so much's and my name's Stephanie and I'm so sorry and thank you SO MUCH while crying and putting Millie in my car, I hear one of the kids say, "so I guess that's her dog?"
I quickly called Jeff back and told her she was found and that he didn't need to come home. He said he would anyway but I assured him everything and everyone was safe and sound. So he called me again, twenty minutes later, as I was on my way to the fundraiser and asked if I was okay. Turns out I was still shaken because, as much as my family didn't think the Loafer incident scarred me, I can assure you it did. Especially when I thought it was all happening again. So next week when we're all being aware of all we should be thankful for, my family - with four-legged members included - will be top of my list.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Baby Candy
Wyatt and I were just sitting here eating breakfast and all of a sudden he's talking about baby Candy. Now, Candy has been his suggested name for our baby since Halloween, so I thought maybe he was talking about that baby. But no! He's apparently talking about his baby. So I asked if I could hold her and he said yes. Then he wanted her back and wanted to go play with her in the family room. I told him if he needed any help with Candy that he should let me know.
He, no kidding, carefully pretend-carried his imaginary baby Candy down the steps then walked over to his toy chest to play with her. Then he said, "help, help!" so I went in and he's still cradling his arms and, therefore, cannot open the toy box. So I opened it for him and then he wanted to put baby Candy down. So we got a pillow off the couch and 'put' her on it. Then I heard him say, "wanna play, Candy? Okay. Oh, I love ooo, Candy." Then next thing I know he's back in the kitchen, 'showing' her the foam apple wreath he made at MOPS last week. "See Candy? I made dat. Here Candy, come in here!" And then he took her into the pantry where he loves to play.
And then he ditched her.
But hey, maybe this is a step in the right direction!
He, no kidding, carefully pretend-carried his imaginary baby Candy down the steps then walked over to his toy chest to play with her. Then he said, "help, help!" so I went in and he's still cradling his arms and, therefore, cannot open the toy box. So I opened it for him and then he wanted to put baby Candy down. So we got a pillow off the couch and 'put' her on it. Then I heard him say, "wanna play, Candy? Okay. Oh, I love ooo, Candy." Then next thing I know he's back in the kitchen, 'showing' her the foam apple wreath he made at MOPS last week. "See Candy? I made dat. Here Candy, come in here!" And then he took her into the pantry where he loves to play.
And then he ditched her.
But hey, maybe this is a step in the right direction!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Slippery Slope
There are so many things I want to share/update Wyatt's online baby book with and yet every time I sit down to blog, my adult ADD kicks in and I'm off on another tangent. And it's been so long that I might not actually have any readers left. I hope someone's still out there or this is particularly pathetic. I'd like to note that I have still been reading your blogs and, though rarely commenting, still enjoy hearing about everyone else out there. Way to go, bloggers who post! Now, back to me.
First of all, I'd like to discuss my internet issues. Does anyone know anything about my laptop and why it's so stinking slow approximately 99% of the time? I've cleaned up the registry, we've moved all the photos onto an external hard drive, I've tried moving all over the house with the laptop but I can still max out at about a 36 Mb connection speed. It's kind of annoying. Though more annoying was the day that I was connecting at a whopping 1 - 11 Mbps. Whew! That makes me not want to be on the computer! I'm considering switching our provider but Jeff thinks he might have cut the line we need while constructing the fence this summer and we don't exactly want to have our fence torn up for it to be fixed. And yes, for those of you that remember, a cut line was repaired. But.....there might have been another one that no one fessed up to.
Secondly, Wyatt is a hoot. I know every child goes through this and mine is not unique, but man! He's all conversational with us! He's applying his newfound logic to various situations (sometimes correctly, sometimes not) and surprising both of his parents every day with something new. His imagination is gearing up and we have lots of pretend food cooked for us. His favorite dishes to whip up? Edamame and banana soup. Mmmmmmm. The other morning at breakfast he pretended he was having a conversation with Jeff. It was very thorough - he knocked on the table and said, "who is it?" before looking at me and saying, "yay! It's Daddy!" Then he turned toward Jeff's empty chair and said, "hi Daddy! How you? I good, thanks. I eating pancakes."
He's very Daddycentric right now. Like yesterday, when he completely wiped out in the driveway, I swooped him up to assess his injuries (skinned hands was it and let me tell you, from the sound and sight of it I thought I'd be picking up a bloody mess) and was attempting to calm him down when all I heard was, "I show Daddy!" through the sobs. So I handed him over to Jeff and they talked it through and then he was fine. I was slightly unnecessary. It's certainly not always that way - like Friday night, when I left after dinner and he was a trainwreck - but it's increasingly frequent that he wants Jeff. I'm not complaining...yet. I mean, it's kind of nice that while I'm fixing dinner, Wyatt likes to camp out by the front windows and watch for his dad.
He is obsessed obsessed, I tell you with drumming and rocking out. And yes, he uses that phrase. "Mommy, I rockin' out!" or "Daddy come samily room. Rock out with Wyatt!" He also knows almost all the words to Third Day's Call My Name and belts it out at the top of his lungs. It's hilarious, if I do say so myself. And if he's not setting up for his latest gig, he can usually be found playing some sort of sport. Baseball, basketball, tennis, hockey - your choice. He'll play them all and can weirdly incorporate them all together when you're not paying attention. The other night at dinner he told us he's going to teach the baby how to play tennis. Let's hope he's figured out by then that hitting a person with the rackets gets you in trouble every. single. time.
Speaking of the baby, it's either growing or I have to really cut back on the calorie intake. My doctor says everything looks good so I think the former is correct. Wyatt and Jeff both accompanied me to my appointment on Friday (not planned for Wyatt to tag along, though he was really good) so we all got to hear the heartbeat. Wyatt looked kind of awestruck, but maybe he just thought the baby already had a drum? At this point with Wyatt, we'd taken approximately 20 pictures of the belly, spent hours slogging through naming books and we both felt like we were having a boy. This time? Not so much. I think we've taken pics of the belly twice, we have each looked through precisely two naming books and are still without any real contenders and neither of us have a clue as to what we're having. So seriously, a little help on the naming front would be appreciated. Tell you what - if you suggest a name that we end up using, I'll send you some sort of prize.
What else.....oh. Leaves. I raked up four bags last week, Jeff raked 11 yesterday and four or five more today and the huge oak tree in our front yard is only half-naked. One of the trees in the side yard is fully green and a we have a couple smaller trees that have, thankfully, given up the fight. Don't get me wrong, the fall colors have been beautiful but wow. Just so many leaves that never stop falling! I really wanted to go to one of the local parks and walk back through the woods to collect some leaves for dipping in paraffin (my mother-in-law did that years ago and still has these beautiful leaves to decorate with every fall), but I was stymied by the rainy, windy weather we've been having and by the fact that my local hobby store doesn't carry paraffin. Maybe next year.
There. Now I've caught up and can quit feeling so guilty!
First of all, I'd like to discuss my internet issues. Does anyone know anything about my laptop and why it's so stinking slow approximately 99% of the time? I've cleaned up the registry, we've moved all the photos onto an external hard drive, I've tried moving all over the house with the laptop but I can still max out at about a 36 Mb connection speed. It's kind of annoying. Though more annoying was the day that I was connecting at a whopping 1 - 11 Mbps. Whew! That makes me not want to be on the computer! I'm considering switching our provider but Jeff thinks he might have cut the line we need while constructing the fence this summer and we don't exactly want to have our fence torn up for it to be fixed. And yes, for those of you that remember, a cut line was repaired. But.....there might have been another one that no one fessed up to.
Secondly, Wyatt is a hoot. I know every child goes through this and mine is not unique, but man! He's all conversational with us! He's applying his newfound logic to various situations (sometimes correctly, sometimes not) and surprising both of his parents every day with something new. His imagination is gearing up and we have lots of pretend food cooked for us. His favorite dishes to whip up? Edamame and banana soup. Mmmmmmm. The other morning at breakfast he pretended he was having a conversation with Jeff. It was very thorough - he knocked on the table and said, "who is it?" before looking at me and saying, "yay! It's Daddy!" Then he turned toward Jeff's empty chair and said, "hi Daddy! How you? I good, thanks. I eating pancakes."
He's very Daddycentric right now. Like yesterday, when he completely wiped out in the driveway, I swooped him up to assess his injuries (skinned hands was it and let me tell you, from the sound and sight of it I thought I'd be picking up a bloody mess) and was attempting to calm him down when all I heard was, "I show Daddy!" through the sobs. So I handed him over to Jeff and they talked it through and then he was fine. I was slightly unnecessary. It's certainly not always that way - like Friday night, when I left after dinner and he was a trainwreck - but it's increasingly frequent that he wants Jeff. I'm not complaining...yet. I mean, it's kind of nice that while I'm fixing dinner, Wyatt likes to camp out by the front windows and watch for his dad.
He is obsessed obsessed, I tell you with drumming and rocking out. And yes, he uses that phrase. "Mommy, I rockin' out!" or "Daddy come samily room. Rock out with Wyatt!" He also knows almost all the words to Third Day's Call My Name and belts it out at the top of his lungs. It's hilarious, if I do say so myself. And if he's not setting up for his latest gig, he can usually be found playing some sort of sport. Baseball, basketball, tennis, hockey - your choice. He'll play them all and can weirdly incorporate them all together when you're not paying attention. The other night at dinner he told us he's going to teach the baby how to play tennis. Let's hope he's figured out by then that hitting a person with the rackets gets you in trouble every. single. time.
Speaking of the baby, it's either growing or I have to really cut back on the calorie intake. My doctor says everything looks good so I think the former is correct. Wyatt and Jeff both accompanied me to my appointment on Friday (not planned for Wyatt to tag along, though he was really good) so we all got to hear the heartbeat. Wyatt looked kind of awestruck, but maybe he just thought the baby already had a drum? At this point with Wyatt, we'd taken approximately 20 pictures of the belly, spent hours slogging through naming books and we both felt like we were having a boy. This time? Not so much. I think we've taken pics of the belly twice, we have each looked through precisely two naming books and are still without any real contenders and neither of us have a clue as to what we're having. So seriously, a little help on the naming front would be appreciated. Tell you what - if you suggest a name that we end up using, I'll send you some sort of prize.
What else.....oh. Leaves. I raked up four bags last week, Jeff raked 11 yesterday and four or five more today and the huge oak tree in our front yard is only half-naked. One of the trees in the side yard is fully green and a we have a couple smaller trees that have, thankfully, given up the fight. Don't get me wrong, the fall colors have been beautiful but wow. Just so many leaves that never stop falling! I really wanted to go to one of the local parks and walk back through the woods to collect some leaves for dipping in paraffin (my mother-in-law did that years ago and still has these beautiful leaves to decorate with every fall), but I was stymied by the rainy, windy weather we've been having and by the fact that my local hobby store doesn't carry paraffin. Maybe next year.
There. Now I've caught up and can quit feeling so guilty!
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
He's Non-Partisan
I can't believe I forgot to post this little gem yesterday.
I was strapping Wyatt into his carseat and just making small talk (probably to keep him from smacking me in the face - a favorite trick when he's already squirrelly).
Me: It's a very special day for America. We're electing a new president and it's a big election. People all over the country are voting and choosing who they want to be the next president.
Wyatt: Yay! Woohoo! New president! (pause) I want to play with it.
I was strapping Wyatt into his carseat and just making small talk (probably to keep him from smacking me in the face - a favorite trick when he's already squirrelly).
Me: It's a very special day for America. We're electing a new president and it's a big election. People all over the country are voting and choosing who they want to be the next president.
Wyatt: Yay! Woohoo! New president! (pause) I want to play with it.
Cautiously Optimistic
And I'll just say upfront that I'm aware this is a jinx.
I'm sensing the slightest turn in Wyatt's behavior and lo! I am praising it to the ends of the Earth. He's been more charming lately, using his good manners when we're out in public (today at Michael's he was all, "hello lady! How you today? Have nice day!"), and giving us all a lot of unsolicited I love you's. It's refreshing. Oh! He even petted Millie gently yesterday morning and gave her hugs and nice touches!
Don't get me wrong, there are still the issues of my groundhog days full of things I just shouldn't have to say - no climbing on the refrigerator, don't chase the dog, no drumming on walls/stair rails/doors/furniture/cabinets, don't potty on the floor, no hitting people!, etc. - but somehow it's getting minimally more bearable. And for that, I'm really grateful.
Maybe my tolerance is increased because he's becoming better and better company. I mean, anytime your 2-year old looks at you and says, "Mama (I'm now Mama instead of Mommy - who did that?), I have an idea!", says "Yay! Woohoo!" over something as simple as acorns or, when asked what he'd like for lunch says, "grilled cheese samich, grapes and milk!" then thinks you're a superstar for fixing it, life is inherently better, right? Or maybe it's because we finally found a storage system for all the toys in the living room. I don't know. I'm just telling you, it's better.
Of course all of this could be a result of me more liberally using the bribe/if-then style of parenting. You make a potty on your potty? Five M&M's. You try and get nothing? Three M&M's. You're follow directions and keep shoes on while we're at the museum? You get a pack of Smarties on the way home. Judge not, readers. This has proven to be an excellent system with my son and I'm steadfast in not rewarding bad behavior. Like yesterday when Wyatt decided that he'd extricate himself from his stroller in Old Navy? That did NOT earn Smarties but did make me privvy to a full-up fit in the car. I'm just glad he was strapped into his seat because otherwise I'm sure it would have been a tantrum of the throw-yourself-on-the-floor variety he's so fond of these days.
So yeah, he's still two and very much acts like it. It's just that I'm thinking maybe - just maybe - two and a half is going to bring some changes.
I'm sensing the slightest turn in Wyatt's behavior and lo! I am praising it to the ends of the Earth. He's been more charming lately, using his good manners when we're out in public (today at Michael's he was all, "hello lady! How you today? Have nice day!"), and giving us all a lot of unsolicited I love you's. It's refreshing. Oh! He even petted Millie gently yesterday morning and gave her hugs and nice touches!
Don't get me wrong, there are still the issues of my groundhog days full of things I just shouldn't have to say - no climbing on the refrigerator, don't chase the dog, no drumming on walls/stair rails/doors/furniture/cabinets, don't potty on the floor, no hitting people!, etc. - but somehow it's getting minimally more bearable. And for that, I'm really grateful.
Maybe my tolerance is increased because he's becoming better and better company. I mean, anytime your 2-year old looks at you and says, "Mama (I'm now Mama instead of Mommy - who did that?), I have an idea!", says "Yay! Woohoo!" over something as simple as acorns or, when asked what he'd like for lunch says, "grilled cheese samich, grapes and milk!" then thinks you're a superstar for fixing it, life is inherently better, right? Or maybe it's because we finally found a storage system for all the toys in the living room. I don't know. I'm just telling you, it's better.
Of course all of this could be a result of me more liberally using the bribe/if-then style of parenting. You make a potty on your potty? Five M&M's. You try and get nothing? Three M&M's. You're follow directions and keep shoes on while we're at the museum? You get a pack of Smarties on the way home. Judge not, readers. This has proven to be an excellent system with my son and I'm steadfast in not rewarding bad behavior. Like yesterday when Wyatt decided that he'd extricate himself from his stroller in Old Navy? That did NOT earn Smarties but did make me privvy to a full-up fit in the car. I'm just glad he was strapped into his seat because otherwise I'm sure it would have been a tantrum of the throw-yourself-on-the-floor variety he's so fond of these days.
So yeah, he's still two and very much acts like it. It's just that I'm thinking maybe - just maybe - two and a half is going to bring some changes.
Saturday, November 01, 2008
The Other One
Hey, guess what? I'm more than halfway through this pregnancy. I'm not sure where the time is going but I think it has something to do with chasing a toddler and trying to keep my stuff together (fyi, that last bit of keeping it together isn't going as well as a girl could hope. I just keep reminding myself it will get much more challenging before it actually gets better.)
So I had my big ultrasound on Wednesday and we're having a girl. Or a boy. We're still not finding out and I love how that elicits such strong opinions in people, from family to strangers. You public are very strong-minded as to whether finding out is perfect or evil! Anyway, the ultrasound tech was great - she gave me plenty of advance warning when I needed to avert my eyes and we left with not a clue to this baby's gender. Yay! We also left with a few photos for the "album".
We talk about the baby with Wyatt and he likes to assert his opinion on whether it's a sister or brother and every once in a while suggests that perhaps it will go away, so I decided to share one of the pictures with him. In addition to a thumb-sucking profile, we got a great full-face shot.
So I had my big ultrasound on Wednesday and we're having a girl. Or a boy. We're still not finding out and I love how that elicits such strong opinions in people, from family to strangers. You public are very strong-minded as to whether finding out is perfect or evil! Anyway, the ultrasound tech was great - she gave me plenty of advance warning when I needed to avert my eyes and we left with not a clue to this baby's gender. Yay! We also left with a few photos for the "album".
We talk about the baby with Wyatt and he likes to assert his opinion on whether it's a sister or brother and every once in a while suggests that perhaps it will go away, so I decided to share one of the pictures with him. In addition to a thumb-sucking profile, we got a great full-face shot.
As I pointed out the baby's features to Wyatt (here's it's head, here are baby's eyes, nose...), he looked at me and said, "looks like Millie!" And so I laughed because how can a baby look like Millie? But then I looked over at our sweet girl sleeping in her bed and realized he might be right, what with all the black and white markings. Oh well, at least this one looks like one of its siblings!
P.S. We are officially accepting nominations for names as it has occurred to us that we'll have to name this one, too. So please PLEASE share your ideas by clicking on comments below. Thanks!
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