A Fishing We Will Go

Today The Captain and his dad crawled out of bed at the wee hour of 4:30am to make a charter boat trip at 6am.  It will be the first time The Cap't has been on a boat and that him and his dad have gone fishing together.  Of course preparations needed to be taken before 4:30am because who uses their brain at this ungodly hour?  Extra clothes were packed, lunches were made.  (Two peanut butter & nutella sandwiches for the Cap't for those wondering) Camera was given and they were only reminded about 20 times to take pictures which means I'll be lucky to get one grainy picture of my husband's phone.  The Cap't was fairly eager to hop out of bed but was, of course, full of several rambling questions and statements.  "I will need a life jacket."  "Yes, they will have them there."  "Are they the yellow ones?  Will it fit?  What if I don't like it?  Can't I bring my own?"  "If you want to go on the boat you have to wear the kind they have like everyone else."  "Okay.  Well, I need my fishing pole."  "They will have them there.  You're is too small.  It is the kind for fishing off docks and in lakes."  "They have bigger ones than MINE?!  Awesome!!"  The inquiry and expressions did not stop until they left the house and I'm pretty sure they went on for the 1 hour drive.  Of course I went back to bed and after laying down for awhile I realized, I too, had questions.  What if the Cap't gets seasick?  I didn't pack any medicine for that?  What if his feet get wet?  He doesn't have extra socks.  I didn't remind my husband that the Cap't has never been on a boat before.  (Only a ferry) He needs to be extra careful so the child doesn't fall over.  On and on this went in my head until I finally went back to sleep.  Then around 6:58am I was woken up by a naked 3 year old wanting to play games on my phone.

Miles of Milestones

     Friday was the last day of preschool for the Captain.  The last, last day.  As in no more preschool.  Ever. I think this is harder for me than it is him.  I feel like an anomaly in this situation.  It seems like all the other moms are excited to be moving on.  Maybe I just have a hard time with change, but moving on to kindergarten just seems so HUGE.  The part of me that has a need for control is freaking out.  Preschool was just so contained.  Like he was in some sort of safety bubble.  uninfluenced by any "bad" kids.  I remember when he first started preschool at 2 1/2.  Both of us were excited and couldn't wait to have time away from each other.  We waved and smiled and off he went.  There were ups and downs but with each year he wanted more and more and loved it.  I wanted so badly for him to have a great first school experience and he did!  Better than I ever imagined.  So on Friday it was just so bittersweet and I cried with the teacher.  I never thought we'd make it to that day.  Some kids cried too, but the captain stay strong and smiled.  I had prepared him for this day and put on the happy mom face when talking about kindergarten at a new school.  So when everyone around him was crying he held firm and with all confidence said, "it's okay mom because I'm going to come back and visit all the time."  As we left school that day we walked with other moms and kids to get slurpees.  The day had been filled with carnival games and sunshine.  Of course we had to end with a slurpee.  What else could we do?  Then, like the Pied Piper of Hamlin, the class teacher comes over and sits with the kids and we get her a slurpee too!  It was a perfect memory to end the day.  Now, I'm sure you're wondering how The Kid fared through all this.  Being as it was his first YEAR of preschool.  I was soo nervous to leave him that first day.  I cried all the way home.  Then I sat by the phone certain they would call me with news of an injury.  The weeks went on and I never once got called to come!  Success!  The teacher and I both laughed about those first few weeks.  Confessing how nervous we both secretly were.  Holding our breath the first time he used scissors and climbed up the slide ladder.  Seems so silly now as we watched him run around the play yard.  So for me, this school year felt like miles of milestones.  Now onto the next new adventure!

The Magical Musical Box

Normally this time of year I would be passionately talking about my ever growing garden.  Seeds starting to sprout, new bed being built, flora and fauna, etc.  Not this year.  It seems we are no longer in Kansas anymore Toto.  Wait, maybe we are in Kansas!  So far we've had sun, rain, sleet, hail and snow.  All in one day.  We are just missing the tornado and I'm certainly not hoping for that!  With all the crazy weather here in the PNW, it sadly means we've been stuck inside for way too long.  I've been starting to run out of creative indoor activities.  We've done the art and craft box, we've done the cardboard boxes, we've even done a garage sand box (under the bed box w/ lid and wheels.  Fill with 1 bag of sand. Play in garage in the rain.  It's portable.)  We have now moved on to The Music Box.  This is a toy box filled with a collection of musical instruments, and not the ones you normally think of.  There are no tubas, or trombones in this box.  Think Kindermusik style instruments.  Sticks, and bars, and clackerheads!  Below is the list of our magical marching band.  Put on costumes, blast some music and bang away!

The Magical Musical Toy box

2 drums, 1 wooden with mallets, 1 plastic with plastic sticks

2 tambourines, big and small

4 seashell castinets

2 clackerheads

2 shaker eggs (we had more but the cats hid them)

1 set of bars with mallets.

4 jingle bells, differing shapes and sizes

spoons, the kind that smack together

2 harmonicas, 1 plastic, 1 metal

1 slide whistle

1 kazoo

1 recorder

2 sets of sticks, big and small

2 sets of sand blocks

wooden spoon with wooden bowl

6 shakers, random collection

2 sets of guiros frogs

An assortment of bowls and spoons from the kitchen sneak out during our jam session as well.  After an hour of this, I'm pretty sure I've met my gym quota for the day and the kids are sure to be ready for lunch!

A Filmaker in the Family

Last week The Cap't came to me and told me he wanted to make a lego movie.  I gave him my camera and set it to video and told him to go at it.  After about 5 minutes he cam back and said, "no mom.  I don't want to be in the movie.  I want to make the kind where the legos move by themselves."  I realized what he wanted to do was make a stop motion movie.  Think Gumby or Mr. Bill.  So we went to the internet and found a plethora of links to teach us how to make a lego stop motion.  So again I gave the Cap't my camera, set it to auto, put it on the tripod and showed him how to frame the picture.  We spent about 5 minutes together and then I left him to his own devices.  He spent 2 days taking about 350 pictures. He picked out music and I dictated dialog.  He made all the decisions, with my guidance.  The pictures were then uploaded.  We deleted the bad ones and I transferred them to imovie.  From there the magic happened!  Below is the final product!  A little over 3 minutes, the Cap't has his creative collective out for the world to see!  Enjoy!

Birthday with Friends

 Some days I feel like I've woken up to some sort of weird experiment or at best, a kooky Japanese game show.  Just when I think challenging times are behind me, wham-o!  "Let's see what happens when we do this!"  What does this all mean, you ask?  Let me explain...Middle of last week we had a new sectional delivered.  Woohoo!  The Kid and I were home and were positioning into, well, position! I went upstairs for a moment when suddenly I heard a sickening, thud.  Then, the silent cry that only mom ears can hear.  (something like the dog whistle thing.) I raced downstairs and realized The Kid was testing out the bounciness of the cushions, and since I hadn't pushed the mammoth thing against the wall, his face tested out the hardness of the window ledge.  Yeah, it's hard.  His forehead grew an egg in front of my eyes and by the time we were upstairs, his right eye was looking like he took a left hook in a prize fight.  His nose was slowing matching the rest in swollen size.  Ugh.  Somehow one of the japanese judges was on my side (remember how I'm on a game show?) and had me infuse the child right before the chaos began.  I'm sure I have a lot of kharma to make up for that favor!  All in all, life went on.  Nurses were called, extra infusions were given along with ice, kisses, hugs and a few sweet treats.  Fast forward a couple days. (still infusing...) The Kid had turned the big 3.  This meant the annual well check.  All went well until the doc freaked out over his being 42 solid lbs.  Personally it's no big deal.  Height and weight all evened out and when I asked her to check out the Captain at age 3, uh yeah, he was about 40.  Eventually they stop gorging themselves and stretch.  Why do I bother with this obscure moment of well checks, weight, and shots?  Yeah, shots.  Oh because, the one shot The Kid DID get, left him with CELLULITIS! Cellulitis is a bacterial infection that can become extremely life threatening if not treated. Sunday morning The Kid woke up with an arm almost twice it's normal size!  What the hell?!  Any parent would freak out over this right?  Yes.  But I was not freaking out from the usual, "what's-wrong'with-my-kid's-arm!" parent reaction.  I was freaking out because his birthday party was in 4 hours and a call to the nurse was sending us to the ER to confirm the cellulitis.  Seriously?!  I want off this damn game show RIGHT NOW.  I forfeit!  This was not ANY old birthday party.  This was The Kid's first "real" birthday party WITH FRIENDS.  I made a fancy cake and cupcakes.  Oh no, this was not going down this way.  So with encouragement from our nurse who said we can make it we raced off to Seattle.  I'm pretty sure I told every medical personnel I came in contact with that it was The Kid's birthday party with friends.  When the countdown was zero minus 20 minutes and we were still in the exam room waiting for "Mr. attending doctor" to give us his pope-like blessing to leave, it was time for me to take charge.  Somehow I found the guy and convinced him to let us leave while I promised to give the antibiotics that very day from home.  Yeah, yeah, sounds good but we have a party to go to!  Not sure how we managed it but The Kid and I made it to that party only about 5 minutes late!  Take THAT you jerky little bacteria!  And your game show!

Post Script:  The Kid had a blast.  The party was a success and cake and ice cream were happily had by all!  

Published!

I recently wrote an article for our local Kindermusik blog entitled "The Process."  This wasn't the first blog post for them but it was the first to really be recognized by complete strangers.  As a lover of literature and a (someday)aspiring novelist, it made me proud and feel "published."  Not only did it go to our local kindermusik blog but it was asked to be posted on the Kindermusik International blog site as well as another mommy blog in Canada.  Heck, my writing has gone international!  Woohoo! Below is the article as well as the links to the other blogs.  Thanks strangers!

http://studio3music.com/blog/
http://mindsonmusic.kindermusik.com/
http://www.mommyagogo.ca/index.cfm?pagePath=Articles/The__Process_&id=29730

"THE PROCESS"

As a mom of 2 very different boys, one with sensory processing issues and one with a severe bleeding disorder, I know things in my house can be far from considered normal.  I remember going to Kindermusik when the older one (with SPD) was little.  He was always so BUSY!

It seemed like all the other 6-9 month old babies were happy and content to sit in their mommies’ laps and smile and clap with the music.  They would wave as the shakers were put away and smile again when the next song would start.  Not my baby.  He would crawl around the room, looking under curtains, pulling himself up where ever he could.  He’d look for anything out of place to discover and get into.  I was practically chasing him around the room!

When shaker time was over, he’d fight to keep that thing in his hand and when the shakers disappeared, he’d scream and cry through the entire next song.  I’d quietly soothe him, whispering in his ear.  I could feel all the other moms looking at me.  Sometimes we’d leave the room until things got calm.

This is when I’d come back and Miss Allison would talk about “The Process.” My younger boy never had this issue, although his deal is to just lie like a log on the floor during the dancing music.  Everyone just dances over him like he’s a prop on the carpet.  Of course I’m used to being the family that stands out in a crowd.  Neither child really follows anything.

After years with Miss Allison and learning from Montessori school, I have become adjusted to knowing what “The Process” really means.  At 6-9 months old, the older child was processing everything in his environment.  Including the music and songs of Kindermusik.  A week or two after learning a new song or dance he’d try mimicking it at home.  Not often in class.  He was too busy there.  Too busy PROCESSING everything.

The little one does the same thing.  He may just lay and roll on the floor in class, but on the way home he sings every single word to every song.  I learned something else about The Process over these 5 years as well.  Letting go of the Perfectionist in myself.

This year's gingerbread house!

After setting out all the supplies for our family gingerbread house, I had ideas of creating a masterpiece, but after several summers of Kindermusik crafts and home art projects I knew the house was going to be anything but that.  The boys jumped right in icing and decorating until every bit of candy was either on that house or had been eaten.

Throughout, I kept reminding myself that it’s all about THE PROCESS.  I’ve seen other moms do all the gluing and sticking and messy work for their art projects or have a separate “kid’s Christmas tree” so that the “real” tree can look like Martha Stewart’s, and that’s fine.  Those trees are beautiful and the projects look just like the originals.

What I’ve learned about The Process is that as much as I want that perfect looking tree and gingerbread house for my very own, I remember the original ones even more. I remember the hand turkey with 3 eyes and feathers on his head but none on the fingers part.  The gingerbread house with candy only on one side or only decorated with the blue candies.  I remember the Santa picture that I had to be in with my sweats on, hair a mess and no makeup because the little one would not go near the man in the red suit.  This is all part of The Process.

The Process, where not only the children are learning and growing and absorbing, but I am too! The perfectionist still wants to fight it but I remember all these things to keep her at bay, and until the children can hang outside Christmas lights on their own, I can still light up the neighborhood in my own Martha Stewart-ness.  So the next time you see us dancing to the beat of our own drum, you can stare, it’s okay. We are just processing and making memories while doing it.

-posted by Kindermusik mommy Heidi Forrester, who still hopes her gingerbread house will one day look like the picture on the package.

The Act of Giving

One night at the dinner table after The Captains birthday and right before Christmas, he announced that he wanted to give some toys away.  "For kids that don' have any."  I told him that sounded like a great idea.  He volunteered to give away 5 so I looked at The Kid and said he should give 3 toys away.  (One for each year of age.) He promptly yelled that he was only "2 1/2!!"  After a few moments of negotiating we all agreed on 4 toys from The Cap't and 2 toys from The Kid.  We left it at that for awhile and got through the mounds of holiday gifts and declared it was finally new year.  Back into our normal routine I asked the kids  to go to the rooms after dinner and pick out the toys they'd like to send to Kids Without Toys.  Surprisingly, they said okay!  The Cap't quickly dug around and found a couple of crappy fast food toys and a couple of random toys he pulled out of who-knows-where.  I had to praise him for trying.  It was really the Act of Giving that I wanted to teach.  We'd get to the other stuff later.  I went to The Kid's room and pulled out two bins of toys from the closet and asked him to pick two toys to give to some other little boys.  Sure enough he picked out two toys and promptly dropped them into the sack.  I pause here only to wonder what is going on in their little heads.  Hopefully they are so smart that they realize they have so many toys, they could open their own toy store.  Really though, it's more like, out of sight, out of mind.  The Kid actually picked out two good toys. I hope it doesn't come to bite me in the butt later when he's looking for his Fisher Price rocking guitar or his truck that the kids are convinced hollers "comcast to the rescue!"
Once they finished with this task, I thought, "wow!  That was sooo easy!  I should do this every week!" Instead I challenged them.  "Now go pick out 1 stuffed animal to give to babies."  Happily and feeling great about their giving, they yelled "okay!"  The Capt came out with some random bear.  The Kid came out with a cute red and pink turtle with big sweet eyes.  The kids gave this to me last Valentine's Day.  I was a little sad about this but I started this and was trying to prove a point.  Well.  The Capt did NOT want to give the animal up.  Let me tell you first off that the kids have not looked through these stuffed animals for months!  The cats drag them out on occasion but the kids kind of have their 1 or 2 favorites at bed and that's it.  Call me Mean Mommy, but I stood my ground.  The turtle was in The Kid's room and he made the choice.  The Capt burst into tears and wouldn't stop crying over it!  I really started to feel bad.  I had to come up with a plan.  I decided to let him make a swap.  He could save the turtle BUT he would have to give up another stuffed animal.  You know what?  He did it!  And the crying stopped. Maybe the Act of Giving should really be called the Art of Giving.  Hm.  We will see how it goes the day Salvation Army comes to actually take the stuff away.

Hop on the Potty Train!

The Kid has pretty much been potty trained for about a year. He still asks when going to the bathroom, "Is this potty training mom?" Uh, no because you are already trained my child. Of course I am only saying this in my head. Out loud I just smile and say "yes! Yes it is!" Lately The Kid has somehow connected potty training with actual TRAINS. Now when peeing in the toilet he creates a whole scenario where his penis is the train and the pee is all the people getting off the train. "Okay" he says, "the people are getting off the train. Look at all the bubbles! There's a lot of people getting off the train!" At first I didn't get it and thought it was weird. Now it's just weirdly funny. Somehow I even worked it into getting him to go potty. "There are still more people that want to get off the train. Go pee."

Burritos On A Hot Day

I love giving my kids a bath on a hot day. The Capt. is 4 1/2 and The Kid is 2 1/2 and they've always done well bathing together. I don't have to entertain anyone and outside of dousing each other with water and crying about it. They do pretty well. Side note: I have an extra towel on hand for the clean up afterward! Bathing in the tub on a hot day is especially fun because I liked using lukewarm water. Sometimes we have bubbles, sometimes finger paint, either way, it's all good! We have a special ritual after bath time that is what they really like the most. I get each kid out one at a time, dry them off, and wrap them up like a burrito. I scoop them up and pretend to eat them before depositing them on my bed. In the winter the insist on being chalupas. This is when I add an extra blanket to them on the bed and tuck them tight. I don't really know why they like this, but they do. They get a snack and watch a show and then it's bed! Voila! I'm wet and disheveled after all this, but nothing a glass of wine can't cure!

A Lovely Morning for Good Sleepers

We recently took a weekend trip to Leavenworth. It's a cute little German town a couple hours outside of Seattle. There are rivers and hiking as well as wine tasting, etc. Something for everyone. We rented a cabin near Fish Lake with the Forrester Clan and enjoy some beautiful weather. The kids bunked downstairs near an Aunt and Uncle, while the rest of us were settled in upstairs. The great thing about The Capt and The Kid is that they are great sleepers at home. All is quiet by 7-7:30 and they are usually good for 12 hours. Traveling, not so much! They have a hard time settling down and for some God awful reason they can't stay asleep past 6:30! This trip was no exception. What occured the first morning with Uncle Colin was just priceless! I padded downstairs the first morning to find they were up at their usual traveling hour. Uncle Colin listened to them in their room for at least an hour. He commented that they were so quiet and happily talking and giggling together that he figured we must be with them trying to let everyone sleep. Okay moms, if your kids were quietly in their rooms together, would you think this was a good thing? Yeah. So as soon as he said they sounded happy AND quiet, I knew it was not good. They were happy and quiet because The Captain woke up and brought a whole bucket of red vines into the bedroom for he and his brother to share for "having a good sleep." I would be happy and quiet too if I got to eat red vines all to myself for an hour! What can you do thought, right? That's awsome.

snapshots

There are some moments amongst the chaos that I would like to freeze in time. Here is one from this week.
At 7am the other morning I laid in bed and listened to the kids waking up. The Kid was calling "mama." At some point when I don't answer he will start yelling, "Heidi!" The Captain usually wakes up talking. What a suprise! When he hears the Kid he goes into his room...."Hi Buddy, did you have a good sleep?" The Kid: "yeah" The Captain: "Okay, stay right here and don't cry, Promise? Don't cry I'll be right back. Promise you won't cry?" I just laid in bed and listened to this. For some reason I just find it cute. What can I say, I'm their mom!

Barney

This one is for Anne. She liked this little story so much, she thought I should share.
So Th Capt gets TV time. A little in the mornings, a little in the afternoons (in lieu of a nap, ie mommy's sanity break.) and a show before bed if it's been a good day. He sometimes chooses not to watch and if it's a nice day we tend to go outside to play in the sandbox anyway. So. The other morning he's in watching Sprout and a while later he comes to me crying. And I mean the tears were streaming and he was just sobbing. I thought, "oh my god what happened?" So I ask, "what happened?" He tells me, "Mom, I love Barney! Boohoohoowaaah!" Wait. You love Barney. That is why you are crying like you will never see the light of day? You love Barney. I didn't say any of this out loud. Only in my head. Instead I say, "Aw, Barney's a good guy huh? He loves you too buddy." And really he is a good guy. Maybe a little weird but his show does send a good message. (yes, I've watched several. So, anyway, whenever the Capt. watches Barney he always, without fail, hugs and kisses the TV for the "I love you" song at the end. This kid really Loves Barney! So feeling bad and generous I take him to the toy store to find his very own loveable Barney for his very own. AND he sings the "I love you" song. For at least three days afterwards The Capt dragged Barney everywhere and at least twice a day told me, "thank you so much for getting me Barney, Mom." "Awww, you're welcome Bud." I say while chuckling in my head.

Kevin

So this is a conversation the Captain and I had a few days ago. It's still hard to explain without crying. Because I just laugh too damn much every time!

Capt: Mom, where's Kevin?
Me: I don't know. Who is Kevin?
Capt: No no, where is Kevin?
Me: I don't know. Where IS Kevin?
Capt: NO! Kevin mom. You know, Kevin!
Me: No. I don't know. You mean Kevin from Sprout? On the birthday show?
Capt: No, not the guy. Kevin. You know. Up in the clouds.
Me: (laughing so hard I'm pretty sure I might pee my pants.) Ooooh! You mean Heaven!
Capt: Yeah, Kevin, Heaven. Where is it?
Me: Um, yeah it's up in the sky waaay past the clouds.
Capt: Oh, okay.

We are not a religious family so we don't talk about Heaven or God or anything like that yet. We do have a book called Ten Little Fish and since the only thing that rhymes with Seven is Heaven, that is where the 7th fish goes. Hm, maybe the fish COULD go with Kevin from the birthday show. He seems pretty fun.

The Box

A box is never just a box at our house. Sometimes I think we like getting things just for the size of the box! WE've had spaceships, trains, caves, tents and other creative adventures with our boxes. Many time I just give the Capt and the Kid washable markers and let them go at it. In fact I think the Kid thinks boxes are strictly for coloring on. The latest box came from our Radio Flyer wagon. I liked the box because it meant I could put the wagon together by myself without having additional "help." Our boxes also last for days and sometimes weeks, just not necessarily in the same form. The newest box started out as a puppet theatre. I cut a hole near the top on one side for the puppets and a hole near the bottom for the puppet master. We all took turns in the box and in the audience. The next day the puppet show became an "old dog house" before getting crashed and smashed upon. By the next day the box was in several pieces that were perfect for the Kid to sit on and color all around himself.
In the afternoon it was cut up into even smaller pieces by the Captain who like to just cut with scissors. The smaller the pieces the better. Our boxes slowly and secretly end up in the recycling bin. If either kid were to see the box dumped into the container, well, they'd cry. We love our magical boxes.

World Hemophlia Day/ What Is Normal?

What is Normal?
I ask this because there are many times in a mom's life when you wonder if your kid is normal. They do things or don't do things and you quiz other moms and pediatricians to find out "Is this normal?" William is our second son and he has Hemophilia. This is a severe bleeding disorder that doesn't allow the blood to clot. Our first son Jack, is unaffected but also quite unique. Let's start with that one. When the time came for him to go head down in the womb, I felt him do a complete sommersault. While pregnant I always said that if he is as active out of the womb as in I was going to be in trouble! I am. He did everything ahead of schedule. I never worried if he was "normal" or on track in his development. In fact I couldn't keep up with reading those "baby's first year" books because he'd already done it by the time the month came around. He crawled and pulled to standing at 6 months and walked at 9. He talked at 12 months and was negotiating at 1820months. I always thought he was different than the other babies his age but never wondered if he was "abnormal." I was just trying to keep up! His personality matches his development. He is now 3. He never had stranger anxiety and is prett y much an ambassador for Friendly. He talks to anyone who will listen and will question, argue, or negotiate any chance he gets. People who meet Jack rarely forget him. You can't help liking him. (Unless your his mom and are tired.) He is challenging, spirited, precocious, and "active-alert." You get the picture. When I was pregnant with our second baby (cause we weren't busy enough with the first!) we really, in all honesty, wanted a girl but not for the usual reasons. Jack is such a big personality we thought being his little brother was just going to suck! Who could keep up with him? Always being "Jack's little brother." And we couldn't imagine having another one like him! So when the doctor told us it's another boy we were a little worried. Well, who knew we'd have two boys unique and normal in their own ways. It will be 1 year in May when we found out our little one, Will, (who was 5 months old at the time) had severe Hemophilia A, factor viii deficient. This means his blood can't clot. We found out when we discovered an abnormally large bruise on his chest. Blood tests and an overnight at Childrens hospita l confirmed it. It also means he looks like an abuse victim lots of time because, as we tell our 3 year old, "Will has hemophilia and bruises easily." Everyday toddler wear and tear leaves him with purple, bumpy legs. Will is now 15 months old and is cute as a button. His little personality is sweet, silly, and snuggly. He's very curious and ALL bo y. He loves to climb, explore, throw balls, run. You name it, he'll do it! So what is normal? In our house, normal means having an overactive, always thinking, non stop talking preschooler and a physical, athletic, risk taking hemophiliac in the house. Normal is what we make it. With Jack, normal means explaining why it's not okay to unscrew the hinges on the bedroom door. With Will normal is heading to childrens hospital to be infused with factor after getting a head bonk. This might not be normal for other families but it's just a usual everday at our house!
by Heidi whose mantra is: You will not be given more than you can handle!

The Garden

Over teh last couple of weeks The Capt and I have decided on and planned out a raised vegetable garden. He picked out the seeds: Lettuce, carrots, peas and catus. (this is known to everyone else as cucumber.) He calls it this because the picture on the seed packet is an illustration of cucumbers and not an actual picture. So to him it's a cactus because it's green, "prickly" and has little yellow flowers on it. If you tell him otherwise he will argue with him. So I just humor the child. We then took the gang to Home Depot and bought wood and garden soil. We now have a 4x4 rasied garden. 2 weeks ago we were able to plant the seeds. We also picked out marigolds to help keep pests away. In 2 other containers we planted tomato plants and chives. A few days ago we were finally able to see some little sprouts popping out of the dirt! Today I showed the Capt. how the tomato flowers are going to turn into tomatoes and that we can cut the chives with scissors and eat them. He really liked this and plucked several chives to nibble on. Tonight I made myself a big salad. The Capt wanted one too. I told him he could go out and cut some chives for it. Who knew this would be so exciting. My crazy little vegatrian sat and ate a SALAD with carrots and chives and dressing on it! Oh, and croutons of course. He also eats the whites of hard boiled eggs "but not the yolks because that's where the baby chicks hatch from." I pretty much left that one alone.

New Words

So a week or so ago we had a nice day. Woohoo! This led to a moment of spontaneity, something I love but rarely get to do anymore. Ha! I thought, "hey, let's go to the zoo!" I think The Kid had only been once and The Capt had been asking for awhile. We went over rules before heading in, part of our new strong willed routine. Once inside we decided to choose 5 animals we really wanted to see. This included a cow, the giraffes (of course) big cats and a couple of others that I can't remember. In the past the cows were a bit frightening. Definately not as quiet in the mooing department as the ones we've seen in books. At least the Capt. didn't cry when they mooed this time. He just covered his ears. The Kid looked startled at first and then scowled at them. I'm pretty sure he thought they were some sort of monster in disguise and NOT an actual cow. From there we took the usual Safari route and upon turning the corner, three soft faced giraffes were chewing away. The Capt quickly ran up to them and yelled, "Melman!" If you haven't seen "Madagscar" the movie, you wouldn't understand. I thought it was hilarious. Not sure the other people standing around had seen "Madagascar" but the outburst had perfect comedic timing. Oh yeah, The Capt wanted to see the gorillas but on the way there we decided to stop at the day and night exhibits. This is an indoor section of lizards and snakes and then noctural creatures. About 5 critters down as I was telling the boys what each snake or lizard was , The Capt peered in and then asked, "Is it venomous?" Uh, what? "Is it venomous?" He asked, in such a natural way as if he'd used this word many times before. How often in daily life would he ever hear me say "Is (something) venomous." I tried to act as natural as possible. "Um, why yes it is venomous." He continued the conversation with, "But not the babies." Somehow baby venomous snakes were a concern, but mama and dada venomous snakes were just the way it was. "Uh, yes the babies are too." "No, Mom." he tells me. "Not the babies."

family fun.

The Capt wants to be a rockstar.  No, really.  A rockstar.  Seriously.  For at least a year(if not longer) he has talked about being a rockstar.  And he was completely shocked to find out girls can be rockstars too!!  One day I found him coloring all over his arms.  I asked him what the heck he was doing?!  He said that all rockstars have colors on their arms.  I have no idea where he got this from.  Anyway, lately he has progressed to standing on the couch with a golf club (aka microphone) in his hand while we sit on the floor and watch his "concert."  He creates his own songs of course.  Some are pretty funny.  These shennaigans have now moved on to music in the car.  He will ask for a rock and roll song and when we come to one that has some rockin' electric guitar and jammin' drums we turn it up really loud, open the sun roof, and jam away.  All of us with our air guitars, head banging, bad selves.  All of us except, The Kid.  He usually just looks at us like we are complete wackos.  Or idiots.  Like he can't believe he's even related to us.  Eventually he might start patting his hands on his knees but he certainly doesn't smile about it.  I'm pretty sure he'll have disowned us by the time he turns 16.  The second game is one we also play in the car.  "I Spy with My Little Eye."  The Capt loves this game even though he'll pick a color before he finds an object.  Well, the other day we were playing this game on the way to Kindermusik.  "I spy with my little eye...."  the other person guesses and usually before the right answer there are a couple of, "Nooooo's." In a kind of sing song way that ends with a high inflection.  Well after about 10 minutes, The Kid thought he would join in.  Perfect! " No" is one of his favorite words!  So The Capt and I just started by asking the Kid what he spied.  "A tree? A blue car? my pants?"  Every answer we got the same copy-cat "Noooooo."  Maybe you had to be there but we laughed the whole way!

Magic!

Okay okay, I know I have totally flaked on my blog lately.  I've been in a horrible creative funk, but I think my inspiration is coming back to me.  And trust me.  This post is gonna be good!

So a coupel of weeks ago the Capt and I had a few moments alone.  He was sitting on my lap and chatting.  (Like when is he NOT chatting!)  He started talking about how he and his brother were babies in my tummy.  I just nodded and hoped this wasn't going somewhere scary.  We'd already discussed that babies come out of a hole and I hoped this was still acceptable.  Well.  It got scary.  He still seemed to be okay about babies coming out of a hole but now he asked, "how did they get in there?"  I'm sure I had a deer in the headlights look and hoped I could play dumb.  "Oh they just get there." I replied.  "But HOW?"  Okay clearly not going the way I hoped.  I was trying to think fast so I stalled some more.  "oh they just get in the mom's tummy.  Mommy and daddy loved each other so much, blah blah blah that the baby just got there."  I'm sure it was not sounding as casual as I hope since he asked again.  "how?"  I came up with the only thing I could when dealing with a 3 year old asking where babies came from.  "It was Magic!"  I'm sure I was getting sweaty and looking for another escapre route, but he hardly blinked an eye and said, "oh, okay."  I was seriously not prepared for this conversation.  Dada thought I should have told him, "some sort of tube."  But that's his answer for everything.  MY answer for everything now is it's magic.

Taboo

So the Capt. watches TV.  There.  I said it.  He's 3 and he watches an average of 2 hours a day.  I don't feel guilty and I'm not ashamed.  He started watching the Sprout channel when he was about 2.  Since it was at this time that he stopped taking naps and I couldn't fight the battle any longer AND I was pregnant, I decided this was a simple way to have quiet time together.  He would lay on my bed for about 45 min. and I could take a nap.  I knew what he was watching and he was actually learning some stuff.  Most of it animal related since he could watch Zaboomafoo over and over again.  When The Kid came along TV became a helpful and safe way to keep him in one spot while I nursed or tended to the baby.  Although there were days that trouble still occured, 99% of th time he'd watch a show for 15 or 30 min. and be done.  These days we have a routine.  He watches about an hour or so in the morning while I get ready and get morning things done.  He doesn't even sit for a full hour but filters in and out of our bedroom to watch here and there.  Most days he's at school or we are busy and when we get home in the afternoons he needs some quiet time.  He will go lay on my bed and watch shows for about an hour.  We have now branched out to the Noggin channel.  Sometimes I watch with him.  Other times I don't.  At night before bed he gets to watch one show with Dada.  That's their little time together.  Sometimes Dada even finds an old school cartoon on youtube.  The Capt. doesn't watch movies very often.  We own maybe 2.  We rent maybe 1 or 2 a month.  Then we have family movie night with popcorn and The Capt stays up late.  (Oooh til 8!) So there.  It's out in the universe now.