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Daddy Is Tired

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Provoked weirdness

I'm very proud of myself. Yesterday I "accidentally" provoked Matthew into saying two of the weirdest things I've heard him ever say, and they were both naturally worked into conversaion. First, while he was on the toilet, he said "It's time to pee, poop, or eat."

The second thing, which I'm much prouder of, was when he was playing downstairs and he said, "But I really want you to hold my balls!"

Yeah, I'm 12.

The Crackdown

I've had it. There's going to be no more horsing around at the table during meals...I've given enough warnings, and that's IT. I'll give one or two warnings, and then boom - you're done eating. I figure the first couple of times may suck, but we toughed out Ferber, so we can tough this out too.

6 months, and it still hurts

Wow, it's been just over six months. Half a year, and I still miss Mena and Gideon like it was yesterday. I have a picture of Gideon on my desk that was taken on his last full day with us, and when I look at it I can still hear, feel and smell him - it's like he's right next to me. He and I were a matched pair, and we understood each other perfectly, and looking at that picture makes me both happy and sad at the same time.

Matthew (2-1/2 years old) was looking at the picture yesterday and asked if Gideon was sick. I confirmed that he remembered Gideon had died, and Matthew told me he meant in the picture.

Yes, Gideon was very sick in that picture.

"He was sick?"
Yes, very.

"His eye hurt?"
Yes, that eye (Gideon's left).

"He needed to see the doctor?"
Yes, but the doctor said he was too sick.

"Did he get shots?"
Yes, but they didn't help.

"I don't like shots. Why didn't he say grrr?"
He did, sweetheart, but sometimes it just doesn't help.

I can't believe I miss Gideon (and Mena) so much, and that's why hearing something like this (also search for #maddie on Twitter) makes me grieve for her family. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for them, and I hope somehow they're able to make peace with everything.

Twitter Insecurities

So lately, with the whole shredheads thing, I've started to Twitter. Yeah, I'm way late to the game. But it's pretty addictive, and it makes me feel like I have more of a life than I really do. I mean, where else can I go to feel like I have lots of friends when, in reality, they don't have a clue who I am or if I'm there? *laugh*

One thing I've noticed, though...I feel slighted when I follow someone and they don't follow me back! Of course I know that some of the more popular people I follow have hundreds or thousands of followers, and that following every one of them would be impractical at best. Plus, they really have no idea who I am, and let's be honest - my tweets aren't exactly bursting with excitement!

But it still makes me feel like I'm back in high school, always on the edge of the popular crowd - listening in, feeling like I'm part of the group, but then not told where the party is that weekend. *sigh* Insecurity sucks!

Eating Out

So we went to Chevy's on Saturday. Normally we don't go there because Ellie can't stand the fact that there's an old rusty pedal car up in the rafters. Yeah, it seems random to me too. Both that they have one, and that Ellie freaks out about it. But the other day when we suggested eating out, she wanted to go there. Partway through dinner she informed us that, "Chevy's has the BEST burritos, which is a good thing because I don't want to have to look at that yucky car!"

OK, then.

Toast

When I think of weekend breakfasts, I think of cooking up a nice big family meal, bringing it out, and serving it up to everyone. We all have a fun time and get going with our day.

Unfortunately, that's not the way it goes. Despite my best offers, the kids only seem to want cold cereal. At our house it consists of about 70% cheerios, 15% raisin bran, and 15% froot loops. It doesn't matter what Sharon and I are having, they want cold cereal (with an occasional request for oatmeal thrown in to confuse me).

This weekend began no differently. I made 2 bowls of cereal and 2 plates of eggs, sausage (vegetarian), and toast. We started eating, and both kids began begging for eggs. But not the kind we had - they wanted yellow eggs (we had spinach in ours). Okay, Sharon cooked some. While she did that, Matthew was begging for toast. Fine, it's only fair to serve them the "real" breakfast, right?

Matthew got his and promptly singsonged, "I don't want toast!"

Sharon pointed out, "You don't have to eat it...but you asked for it."

Then, putting something together in his head, he asked, "Am I sick?"

Ahh, the brain of a 2 year old.

Lucky Parents?

I just heard a commercial on the radio that asked, "Would you like to be one of those lucky parents whose children bring home good grades?" It was for some company promising that your kids could get good grades.

Let me get this straight, you think that it's LUCKY when someone's children get good grades? I mean yeah, there's some luck when genetics come into play, but I hardly think that luck is the major factor involved when it comes to good grades. Maybe if some of these parents got off their butts and parented the kids instead of hoping the school will take care of it for them we'd be in a little better position all around.

Or maybe it's just luck. Heck, that cinches it for me - I'm just going to close my eyes and hope for the best with Ellie and Matthew.

Happy St. "Patritches" Day

Today was a pretty good day. We went into D.C. to see The Ringling Bros. "Parade of Animals" through the city. Basically, they trot a few elephants and some horses, along with a couple carloads of clowns, a couple miles from the train station to wherever they're doing the circus.

I couldn't believe there were no PETA folks along the route.

Anyway, the kids both had a good time, and it even took Ellie until our way back to the metro to begin begging for snacks. Anyone who's spent time with Ellie knows that is just amazing. Part of it was probably where we were standing. We were at Stanton Square, and picked a spot where nobody else was standing (at first). By the time the elephants came by it was pretty crowded, but we were in the front. And it was perfect, because they stopped the elephants in front of us to do their little trick.



After that, a few horses and clowns, and we were good to go.

Bedtime is a Drag/Dragging out Bedtime

Both of my kids are now old enough to realize there are certain things they can do to drag out bedtime. We're housebreaking my son, so he has the classic out: "I need to go to the bathrooooooommmmmmm!" Ugh, what can we do to that, say no? After all day of telling him not to pee in his pants, we can't very well now tell him to!

But our daughter, who is a couple years older, is much more advanced in her procrastination techniques. It begins near the end of our bedtime routine, when we sing some "special words." She sings hers slower and slower unless I jump in and keep time. Then comes the real fun.

"I need to go potty."

OK. I'll tuck you in when you're done.

"I need water."

There's some on your dresser.

"My hands are so dry they hurt." (This is a good one, because she knows my hands are awful too. Sharon won't sympathize with this one, but I will. The proud look on her face when I give her lotion is priceless.)

OK, here's some lotion.

"My lips are dry. Can you get my lipstick?" (She means Blistex, and she knows I'll fall for this one too. But at this point I'm pissed and she can tell.)

OK, but this is it. Nothing else, okay?

After that she knows she'd better not ask for anything, so she just starts talking as fast as she can. She starts revealing new details about her day, things her stuffed "fellas" tell her, dreams she wants to have, questions she has about books...you name it, she'll bring it up. On really special nights she brings up how kids at school have hurt her feelings. That's a tough one to walk away from!

Regardless of what she's saying, she's like a salesman - she talks so fast I can't get a word in to say goodnight. So I end up starting to walk out.

"Nooooo! Daddy, goodnight! I love you!"

I love you too sweetie.

[Okay, you know I'm not creative enough to think of ideas on my own. This was inspired by a contest over at the Parent Bloggers Network, and is sponsored by the Sylvania Online Store. Wish me luck in winning some good stuff!]

I Now Speak Like a Child

In the last few months I've caught myself (several times) using words my kids use. In public. Around friends and strangers. And it's gotten to the point I don't even correct myself. So, in an effort to make life easier for my friends, here's a dictionary to help you. I can't remember all of them, but here are the three that get high use. Especially the first one. *sigh* I wonder if when my kids are grown I'll revert back to being an adult?

Jamamas -noun- Pajamas

BanBan -noun- Banana

Foonie -noun- Smoothie

I'm Underwhelmed

We just got back from a White House tour. I call it "tour", because they call it "tour." Then you read the fine print, and figure out it's a "self-guided tour." So in reality, you walk in, look at a bunch of pictures that you can find online, see some paintings and a few rooms (like the Green, Blue, and Red Rooms), and then walk out the door onto the driveway. Our appointment was at 2, and we were done by 2:10. And we dawdled. A lot.

Not terribly impressive.

On the way out, Ellie asked "Why are we going outside?" Sharon said, "Because we saw all there was to see." Ellie said, "Yeah, except Barack Obama."

We followed up by going to the visitor's center, where we managed to buy about $30 bucks worth of crap. Which was way less than we would have purchased, had they had anything else for us to buy. What the H is wrong with this city? We didn't even pass any street vendors selling trinkets other than shirts. How can you tour the White House and have to search for things to purchase afterward?

Snow Wimps

Yesterday it snowed several inches - the first good snow in a couple years, and the first real snow Matthew has seen. Both preschools were closed, everyone was excited at breakfast, and we couldn't wait to get in the snow. After a quick breakfast we all got dressed, jacketed, mittened, hatted, grabbed the sled, went outside, and it wasn't 2 minutes before the complaining began.

"I'm cold!"
"I want to go in."
"My arm hurts!" (snow got in his jacket)
"My butt hurts!" (from riding in the sled, I guess?)

They lasted almost 10 minutes, although the last 5 were solid complaints. We would have come back in earlier but I was dragging them through the neighborhood on the sled and I couldn't get home faster.

After snacks, and a lot of pleading, I convinced them to go out back to make a snow-kitty (Ellie's choice). We sledded in the yard about 1,000 times (it's about a 20 foot "slope" that requires my pulling most of the distance) and then made the body of the kitty. Then the sweet, sweet sound of - complaining. Well, at least we made it about 30 minutes this time! Hurray!

Today school is open, and I guarantee all I'm going to hear is begging to play in the snow. *sigh*

Matthew, in code

After a fine time walking with Matthew to pick up Ellie yesterday (I was walking, Matthew was in the stroller), I thought of a program to describe how it went.

Do While (Matthew.isAwake = True)
Matthew.SingWords "The farmer in the Dell,"
Matthew.SingWords "The farmer in the Dell,"
Matthew.SingWords "The farmer in the Deeeeell,"
Matthew.SingWords "The farmer in the Dell."
Loop

The Wiggles are Smart

Hey Daddy, the Wiggles are really smart. Do you know why they're smart? They're smart because they're right...shaking IS fun to do!

(note to non-Wiggles listening parents, give Shaky Shaky by The Wiggles a listen to get the reference)

A clean bathroom

This morning Matthew interrupted my cleaning the kitchen (this is bigger than it sounds, as it happens so rarely) to cry to me that Ellie was playing with the wipes in the bathroom and that she yelled at him not to.

Wow - almost an hour into our day before the first tattling. It's nearly a record!

So I went into the bathroom and found Ellie, fully clothed, holding a flushble wipe. Well, that's what I think it was - it was wadded up so tightly that it had it's own event horizon. Upon further questioning ("What are you DOING, and why are you yelling at Matthew?") she informed me that she was cleaning the bathroom and he was just pulling wipes out and throwing them away. A quick look in the garbage can confirmed half of her story. And she WAS standing over the toilet getting ready to rub the wipe on it.

Five minutes later, after letting her use the lysol wipes instead of flush wipes and after advising her to keep them flat instead of crumpled, the bathroom was clean. The toilet (all parts), the sink, cabinet, and stools. All. Very. Clean.

Now I know it wasn't that gross, because the maids were just here yesterday...so it's not like she reached her breaking point and just HAD to clean it. She just decided to help out. What a sweetie.

I wonder what she's about to ask for.

Past Tense

Is it strange that I can't think about Gideon and Mena in the past tense? I would have thought that after 4+ months it would become a habit, but when I talk (or even think) about them it's in the present tense. Always. And then, of course, it feels extra awkward to correct myself. Strange.

My memories of them have gone back to 3-D, too.

The brain is a weird thing.

Big Kid Bed

"I WANT TO SLEEP IN THE BIG KID BED!"

And so proclaimed Matthew last night, as we were setting up his room for his first sleepover (with Ellie). As he hasn't tried to escape his crib yet, we haven't had a reason to put him in a real bed. But with Ellie in one, he had to be in one too. We weren't sure how it would go, but figured it would either go well, or he'd refuse to relax and we'd have to put him in the crib. Since the latter was a possibility anyway just because of the sleepover, we figured what the heck.

But it worked great. He slept all night in the bed, napped this afternoon, and now he's (hopefully) asleep on it for the second night in a row. I'm torn - I love that my little man is growing up, but there was a certain comfort in knowing that he was locked up in the crib, unable to roam around at night. As soon as he figures out he's free, we could be in trouble...

I feel bad for Ryan

"Dad, I have a question to tell you..."

"You mean, 'I have something to tell you,' or 'I have a question to ask.'"

"Yeah. I have something to tell you. Ryan's stomach is stinky."

"What?"

"I was sitting near Ryan and something didn't smell good. So I went over and told Miss Vanessa that something was stinky. She said it was Ryan's stomachache and to go sit back down."

"Oh. Poor Ryan."

The Great Zucchini

Matthew and I went and saw The Great Zucchini the other day, and in hindsight I should have taken Ellie too. She was fascinated by the stories from the show. Okay, the story (singular). All Matthew says about it is, "It was TOILET PAPER!" And then he says "Eeewww..." and laughs.

[He's referring to the part where TGZ puts toilet paper in his mouth and then pulls out a bunch of colored streamers.]

Anyway, Ellie was full of questions:
"Dad, what's The Great Zucchini?"
"He's a man who entertains kids."

"What does he look like?"
"Kind of like daddy, but he needed to shave."

"What color was his shirt?"
"White."

"Did he have a tail?"
"No!"

"What color is his hair?"
"Dark brown."

"Was he wearing a hat?"
"For part of the time."

"What color was it?"
"I think brown."

"Tell me about his hat..."
etc., etc., etc.

Perhaps you glossed over all those, so I'll repeat one of her questions. "Does he have a tail?" WTF?!? What on earth is going through her head when she asks THAT? The beauty is she just smoothly moved on to the next question when I said no.

Busted...

"Something doesn't smell good around here daddy..."

Of course Matthew picked that time to not be around. He must have known I would have blamed him!

Maybe it's time to get another dog...

(just kidding, that's not happening for a while)