rorschach poop

Even though Elian's been doing #2 in the potty since Halloween, he still feels the need to share his creations with us. One day, not too long ago, there was one in his little potty saved (by his insistence) by the babysitter until I got home. Then, yesterday, when Ed was helping him do the deed, he called to me, "Mama, come here and see this GORGEOUS poopie!" (Though I think he may have meant "ginormous" because that word has been used to describe some of his work.)

But usually, it's just a matter of showing us what kind of shape he has created. Some people see shapes in clouds, our kid sees shapes in bowel movements. Exclamation points. Pretzels. A smiley face. The list goes on. Today it was a bird. When I tossed the TP into the toilet, he exclaimed, "You covered my bird!" and then when I flushed, he tweet, tweet, tweeted as the bird whirled its way down the toilet bowl.

hello, santa?

the heat is on

What do you do when the temperature is 5 degrees and the heat is out? You sit in front of the wood-burning stove and have a YouTube marathon, that's what you do!

Here are two of our favorites from the morning.



And then, there's this one that got a lot of giggles:

he does his own stunts

Even though he's almost three, and my brother makes fun of me, most of the time I still hold Elian's hand when he walks down the stairs.

Today we were playing basketball upstairs when the doorbell rang. I told him to stay upstairs while I ran down to see who it was (FedEx). He said, "I'm gonna come down, Mama" and I said, "Okay, just be careful." Then I heard a noise that would stop anyone's heart.

He fell half a flight of stairs and landed face first on the hardwood landing. I immediately just scooped him up and started vigorously rocking him in the rocking chair. He was very still as he cried and cried and cried much harder and longer than he usually does when he gets hurt. Then I thought, shit, maybe I shouldn't have even moved him. I began frantically asking him what hurt and if he was crying because he was scared or hurt. He said he was scared and in between gasps, stuttered things that I couldn't understand. Finally, he was able to get out that just his face hurt. I put an ice pack on his face as much as he would tolerate and eventually the crying stopped and he was back to cracking jokes. Luckily, his pudgy cheeks probably helped cushion his fall.

I think I'm going to start looking into crash helmets.

quote of the day

Ed: (working across from me on his laptop) Let's see what's going on at Hernan-dos...

Me: Nothing.

Ed: What?!?

Me: I've been BUSY!

Ed: Well, I've been busy too, but I have time to READ it.

making other kids' lives a living hell since 2005™

Ed got this email from his sister Kendra today:

I don't know why, but Elian's been on Thurston's mind lately. The other day he said having Elian around made his life "a living hell", not so much because of anything Elian did but because when Elian visits, Laura's kids say he's their favorite cousin. Then yesterday Thurston said that maybe he should "rethink his life" and try to act like Elian even though he doesn't think Elian's the best thing on the planet or something. It sounds like Thurston's really looking forward to your visit next week.

choo choo -- boo hoo

It seems as if just overnight, the boy has developed a fondness for Thomas the Tank Engine. And here I thought we were out of the woods with this one.

He's had two Thomas DVDs since last Christmas and hasn't really shown much interest. Every once in a while, he'd ask to see it. I'd pop it in and two minutes later he'd ask me to turn it off (Right on, brotha! -- that Thomas is BOR-RING, not to mention creepy with a capitol "C").

But now it's, "Can I watch Thomas?" "Okay, buddy." "Mama, can you watch it WITH me???" "D'OH!!"

Just like apparently 90 percent of the male toddler population, the dude likes Thomas.

And now I must go poke myself in the eye with a sharp stick.

a green treasure

Look what we found at the park today. That's right, my friends. That's nearly a quarter cup of green Litte Tiny Balls. The little man would've totally peed his pants except for the fact that did I mention HE'S POTTY TRAINED!?!?

Now must go off and find a recipe that calls for a quarter cup of little tiny balls.

pies, squirrels and pumpkins

Friday we got a call on the Pie Phone. "Amy, I have two pie crusts for you. Come and pick them up." So off we went to Lempi's house to fetch them.

On the way out the front door, we saw the remains of our little front-step pumkins -- seeds scattered every which way. Surely the work of some childhood prank, you're thinking. Au contraire, my friends. This is the work of my nemesis, the squirrel.

"Hmmm, looks like the squirrels have been feasting on our pumpkins," I said. To which little e replied, "Maybe they're trying to CARVE them. Hahahahaha!" Good one. My son, the comedian.

We visited with Lempi for a while when Elian decided to tickle her. And tickle her. "Tickle, dickle, ickle, ickle, ickle..." This may not have have been worth mentioning except for the fact that Lempi is going to be 94 in April.

So here's a picture I shot of the perpetrator. Excuse the blur. It was taken at a distance. Through a dirty window.

you're invited

A while back, the little man invited another child's father to come home with us for lunch.

Then the other night, a guy came over to give us an estimate on re-siding our garage. We were eating dinner at the time. Without leaving the table, little e invited him to sit down with us for dinner.

Then, this morning, when estimator #2 came over, he invited him to stay for French toast.

I get the feeling we're going to have many dinner guests in our future.

quote of the day

(While making lasagna with my favorite assistant chef. I'm spraying the pan with canola oil.)

Elian: "Can I taste that?"

Mama: "I don't think so, it's SPRAY OIL?"

Elian: "PAPA let's me!"

Mama: "Oh, does he?"

Papa, if you're reading, you have some splaining to do.

am i the only mother who sees this?

This particular baby toy has always made me curious.

I imagine the toy designer sitting at his desk sketching it out. "Yes, yes, two little arms with heart hands, some adorable star antennas...oh yes, and some ring feet and let's see...what else...hehehehehehe!"

HELLO!!!

words i never thought i'd ever utter

"Please stop jumping over the spaghetti."

beeeg boy in da heez-ousssssss

(DORK ALERT! 40-year old white woman trying to talk like Snoop Dog.)

For a while, I've been contemplating switching over to a different children's clinic. Our place has a good reputation and we like our pediatrician. It's just everything else about the place that I'm not so fond of. Crabby nurses. Pay to park. Not real great on the administrative end. Same-day appointments are hard to come by. And then there was this experience.

But I mentioned to Elian that he needed to get a flu shot and immediately he remembered the kinetic sculpture ("ball thing") at the doctor's office. I wasn't quite sure how he was going to react about the whole shot thing since it had been a while. And since he seemed so excited to see the ball thing again, I figured we'd go to our regular place again. One might think that the crying that followed might of been because he was going to go to the doctor to get a shot. No. It was because we weren't going to go there RIGHTTHISVERYSECOND.

We tried to get there early so he could see it before his shot and then again after. But I swear I'm going to start leaving an hour ahead of time even if I'm going across the street. Because when I think I'm leaving so early, we never get there in the leisurely timeframe I'd expect. Stupid 35W bridge. Stupid wrong turn. Stupid puffy winter coat that car seat straps wouldn't fit around.

With a quick potty stop once we got there, there was only about a minute to spare before our appointment. So I made big promises of adequate ball-thing viewing time after our appointment.

The shot went flawlessly. Not one tear. And as the nurse (very nice nurse, I might add) put on his bandaid, little e told her all about how he was going to go downstairs and watch the ball thing.

We get down there and guess what wasn't working. Luckily, he took it very well. And we only had to sit and watch it not work for about 10 minutes before he gave up on it and realized it was in fact, not working. Nor was it going to start working in the near future.

And speaking of big boy. Have I mentioned how proud I am of my little monkey? He's doing such an awesome job with his big-boy undies. I think if I had known how well he was going to do, I would've put them on him a few months ago. In fact, I usually put a diaper on him before his nap and for bedtime just in case. Right now he's napping without one. He insisted he try napping with his big-boy undies. Keep your fingers crossed.

quote of the day

(Background: The last few nights he's been falling to sleep to the story of Tikki Tikki Tembo, the hapless boy with the long name who falls into the well.)


Elian: (Waking up in the morning) I have to go pee pee!

Elian: (On the toilet) I'm like that thing that starts with a Y. The thing with water in it.

Papa: A well?

Elian: Yes. I'm like a well!

old maybe

Saturday morning we decided to take a family trip to Ikea. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I mean, it's a family-friendly place and all...If your family likes to walk around like a herd of cattle and watch over-enthusiastic shoppers get way too excited about the deals to be had. But now that little e's virtually potty trained (knock on wood) we considered dropping him off at Smaland, the Ikea childcare/playcenter, so he could roll around naked in the pool of balls. And Mama and Papa could, well, shop.

Before we left, the little man grabbed a fistful of quarters from his college fund on the off chance they had a ball machine like the one at "Old Maybe." He's had only two experiences with the giant coin-operated ball machine at Old Navy (only one he remembers) and already he's addicted. I tried explaining that I didn't think Ikea had a ball machine like Old Maybe, but his assumption that there would be a ball machine should've been our first red flag. And my assumption that the Ikea-craze had died down a bit and the shopping crowd would be pleasantly moderate should've been the second.

When we got there, Smaland was already filled to capacity so there wasn't going to be any child supervision by an Ikea employee. We were on our own. But there would be some fun shopping for low-priced well-designed items for Mama and Papa. Hooray! The first 15 minutes or so went swimmingly. But then, the quarters began burning a hole in his pocket singeing a George-Washington shaped head on his upper thigh. He needed a ball machine. STAT!

We tried to speed through the items we wanted to look through. "How 'bout this? Would this work??" "I WANT TO GO TO OLD MAYBE!!!" "What are the dimensions on that?" "I WANT TO GO TO OLD MAYBE!!!! CAN WE GO TO OLD MAYBE??!?!?!?! CAN WE?!?!? PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, CAN WE GO TO OLD MAYBE!??!?!?!?"

With boy in shopping cart, we hurried toward checkout as fast as humanly possible -- and NOT because we were taking him to Old Maybe. "WHAT'S THAT??? I SAW SOMETHING! I SAW SOMETHING!! TURN AROUND TURN AROUND!!!!" What he saw in the employee-only area, was about seven ginormous mesh bags filled with little plastic balls. Was this the recently disinfected batch for the Smaland ball pit -- or some sort of cruel joke?!?!?

After a tear-filled drive home, made painfully longer by a bathroom stop at a "Old McDonald's" Playland and its impending tube-slide access denial not to mention the 35W bridge being out, we finally made it home.

After gathering his wits with a much-needed nap, he and Papa headed over to Old Maybe with two quarters. When they got home, he ran excitedly inside with his treasures: a red ball for Elian and a green swirly ball for Mama.

quote of the day

(A while after waking up in the morning with his diaper on.)

Do I have my big-boy undies on?

No, you have a diaper on still.

(5 seconds later.)

I'm peeing.

when two balls are not enough and four are too many

And I hear some children out there like to sleep with STUFFED ANIMALS??

he can fly, he can fly, he can flyyyyyyyy!

(with a football)

guess who's wearing big-boy undies

(And now that I've said it, it's all over.)

a perfect fall day