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*