I love him, I love him, I love him

So, Steve decided to clean our carpet yesterday. Bless him. Of course, since he's the one who decided to volunteer our house for the end-of-year staff party for all the teachers at his school, darn right he should be the one cleaning the carpet! (Yes, that's carpet, singular. The main floor is almost entirely hardwood and ceramic tile, except for the family room area. We decided to go with kid-friendly carpet until our brood all knows how to walk, and then we will be changing to hardwood. At the rate Jake is showing an interest in walking, I will be stuck with this carpet for approximately 10 more years.)

In any case, I did my duty, keeping the boys occupied outside with the water table, bringing them both in under my arms so that they couldn't make a break for the clean carpet, then bathing them, and dressing them in clean jammies before allowing them back into the family room.

I had a sneaking suspicion that he was allowing way too much water to drip into one area of the carpet, while he tried to solve the "look, when I do this with the hand tool, it sprays water, but then stops after a bit. Spray, then stop. Spray, then stop" problem. With each word "spray", he shoosted about a half litre of water into the fibres, and didn't slurp it all up. My worst fears are confirmed today. My carpet SMELLS! Which means my ROOM smells! What the heck, dearest Steve??? I would MUCH rather have the spit up and crayon stains back, then to have our home smell like old camping equipment that was packed away wet!!

I'm pretty sure this is not a Febreeze problem. I'm pretty sure this is a "wait until the kids are in bed tonight, and then Cari re-cleans the carpet" problem. Sheesh. Good thing he's cute, that's all I have to say. (Although I should note that the reconfiguration of furniture he came up with seems to be very baby-learning-how-to-walk friendly, so bonus points there.) But still!

Friday's List of Ten X

Ten reasons clothes shopping (for me) with the boys turned out much better than I expected:

10. In and out of the Jeep X 6, in and out of the stroller X 6, no tears!

9. Two words: store toys! I had stuff for both boys to keep them happy, but everyone knows that other people's stuff is way more fun than yours. And Owen was persuaded to put everything back and leave when it was time to go with the vague promise that "the toys will be here when we come again".

8. Store was almost empty, in spite of it being half-past lunchtime on a Friday. (Yeah, I had planned to be there when the store opened. Boys did NOT have a good morning.) I could take over three changerooms, and no one was inconvenienced. (1 for the stroller, 1 for the boys to play in, and 1 to actually change in.)

7. Charming, charmimg boys, a.m. antics to the contrary! Manners and conversation from Owen, invitations to the sales girls "Would you like to play cars with me?". "Hi!" with a smile and a wave for everyone from Jake, and adorable brother-interaction to boot. Jake crawling after Owen, Owen deciding Jake needed a different toy and getting it for him. Those two flirted their way through that store on teeth and charm.

6. Stand-alone stores (I went to Tall Girl, more about that in a minute) are a lot more kid-friendly than stores in the mall, or giant -Mart stores. Small stores meaning never losing sight of exploring boys when they are encouraged by staff to drive their cars out of the changeroom.

5. I actually found a great outfit to wear to Grace's baptism (they made me an offer I couldn't refuse - I'm her Godmother). I would post pics from the online catalogue, but I really hate it in the catalogue. And the one I thought I liked online looked terrible in person. Which just goes to show, I should browse and try on different things in stores more often, rather than my usual MO of running into the GAP, cornering a salesperson and saying "I need jeans, size 10, 36 inseam. With a fit I can wear to the office. Meet me in the changeroom." It's a summer suit, with short sleeves on the jacket, in light grey with a white pinstripe. And I got a turquoise sleeveless shirt to wear with. Snazzy, and office friendly! I am over the guilt of paying specialty store prices - even Stacy and Clinton would rave about the fit.

4. Tall Girl finally has a rewards program! Once you make $500 worth of purchases (um, not difficult, I'm halway there on the one outfit, ouch!) you get 25% off one item. As reward programs go, it's not yje most exciting, but considering how pricey their stuff is, any money saved is good news.

3. I discovered that I am back to my pre-pregnancy size, the aforementioned 10. Maybe if I got serious about eating well and ran not just because I have an event coming up, I could get down to an 8. But at 6 feet 1 inches and a mom of two, I am quite pleased with being a 10.

2. Mall tailor took pity on me and did my hems while I waited, when others were being told they could pick up their pants tomorrow afternoon. Score one for "it never hurts to ask...really politely!" And they didn't charge me any extra. I took Owen to the potty, picked up a few more odds n ends, and voila, pants! Pants that actually got taken up (even with heels, TG pants are tres longue) rather than let out and a false hem put on, something I have been known to do to spare myself those TG prices.

1. Both boys fell asleep in the Jeep on the way home, and stayed asleep for the house-transfer. Which means that after a very pleasant afternoon out, I still got to enjoy some quiet time to get stuff done around the house. I thought for sure I was looking down the barrel of missed naps and cranky p.m. boys as well, but fate smiled on this well-dressed mama.

Me Time

You know you're looking forward to going back to work when a trip to the dentist makes you happy for the "me time". I had a dentist appointment on Monday. I don't mind the dentist - at 32 years old, I had never had a cavity, so I really have very little interaction with my dentist. I spend most of my time with the dental hygienist, who cleans my teeth every 9 months and lectures me about the importance of flossing. (Foreshadowing!)

But this time, they took some x-rays, and lo and behold, a cavity. My first one. And it's between my teeth - somewhere that could have been prevented by flossing. So I got to go back today and have it filled. You know what? The way the boys have been this week (little one having sleep issues, big one having iron ears and pushing issues), I think that I will look back on it as the highlight of my week. I got to relax in the chair, with my thoughts to myself, for 50 minutes. It was more pleasant than the scraping/cleaning, because I was numb. I felt nothing but some slight pressure, and even the whine of the drill is not all that bad. Worst part? The smell. Dental stuff smells yucky.

Having said that, I will definitely be picking up the flossing in the future. Because hey, in less than 2 months I'll be back to work, and get to have "me time" without the downside of speaking like Chretien all afternoon.

(Also, I have good dental coverage through work, so all this was free, which is why I can be so blase about it.)

Whew, Something Stinks!

...And it's not just the baby lying passed out in my lap, although said small fry could definitely use a diaper change. What with all the solids in his diet these days, phew!

What I am actually referring to is J0n & K@te + 8 - nope, don't want to add to the Google hits for the show. I had never seen this show before last night. I had no desire at all to watch any of the "family-oriented" shows on TLC (why do they always go overboard? A few years ago, all you could see on that channel was Trading Spaces, and the sob fest where hot guy Ty builds people a new house. (Forget what it's called.) Now it's all about families: the Duggar$, the Roloff$, and the Go$$elin$. And women who didn't know they were pregnant.)

Anyway, all the media hype made me curious, especially since I love my TV with a nice side of snark (see TWOP, in the sidebar over there.) Apparently, I've been missing out on some snarkTASTIC programming over at The Loot Channel! She got a tummy tuck? He got HAIR PLUGS??? Are you freaking kidding me? That's awesomely snarkworthy! I got all caught up over at this site, and couldn't wait to snark it up last night. (I'll say it again: SNARK!!)

Obviously these two are having issues. I almost cried when the one sextuplet was chatting with her dad, and told him, "I don't want you to go away anymore, Daddy". But the birthday six and their older sisters were hardly featured at all! It was all about mom! And WHAT a mom! Heh. Break out the schadenfreude, and if you don't have anything nice to say, come sit by me! It must KILL her that she has second billing to her husband in the title of the show. This is one weird lady. And yeah, I love me some "unscripted" "reality" TV:

Mom to kid with silly string: Hey, shoot it at the camera!

Kid: (gets right up to camera and shoots silly string, but is so close, you don't get the "string" effect.)

Mom: No! Not like that! Let me do it! (Poses saucily in front of camera and lets fly with the string).

Completely spontaneous hijinks!

Now, not having seen any other episodes, I don't have anything to compare it to, but it seemed to me like there wasn't much focus on the kids. Has it always been like this? It seemed to be the K8 show, and it also seemed like K8 was acting a lot of the time. Like she thought, THIS is how a cool, loving mom acts at her kids' party and was doing her best to play the part. Why do I think this? Because she's not a very good actor! It was like watching bad theatre. Not to say that she doesn't love her kids, I'm sure she does, but she just seemed "on" for the cameras. Did the show always focus on the J&K part, seeing how a +8 affects a relationship? Because I don't see how that formula can work anymore given the current temperature of things on that interview couch. And if the premise of the show was to focus on the kids, well, someone missed the boat on this ep for sure!

And WTF is up with her hair??? I had heard it referred to as a "reverse mullet", but it was hard to see the full effect on the tabloid covers in the checkout lane. I was picturing it as a kind of longer-in-front bob, a la Posh Spice, but suspected there had to be more to it than that. It's as if her stylist thought, shorter-in-the-back good, number-three-clippers-in-the-back better! Holy Hannah! And the long, front portion looks almost Trumpian in its magnitude! Not that I have the most stylin' do (I tend to throw it in a pony or hide it under a bandana a lot) but I'm not putting myself out there for people to see.

I didn't really see enough of hubby to form much of an opinion. Other than thinking he seemed quite genuine in the aforementioned scene with his daughter, I was really just distracted by his bald spot whenever he was on screen. Did his TLC-funded hair plugs not take? Or, since he can't be much past 30, is it that has he lost MORE hair and needs a touch-up? Inquiring minds want to know!

The kids are all adorable. You won't catch me snarking on them, because a) they're kids, and b), they aren't the ones who signed up to be beamed into my living room. Although the girl who got up and ran away the instant the "happy family birthday photo" was snapped? Awesome! I really hope that somewhere, some lawyers are making sure that an awful lot of $$$ is being set aside for those kids. Accoeding to the Washington Post, mom and dad are getting $25,000-$75,000 per episode, in addition to all the loot.

Now that I've seen the show once, I'll probably be content to get my snark off the web. I can get all the horribleness that is J&K without the distraction of having to feel sorry for +8 (or the added distraction of K8's horrible acting. Give that girl a Razzie already!) Poor kiddos. Although if J0n goes in for a plugectomy sequel, I don't know that I could stay away.

Stop, Drop and Roll

Today we finally purchased a fire pit for the backyard. Technically, I guess it's more of a "fire table", since it sits up on the deck, but to-MAY-to, to-MAH-to. It's round and has about a 6 inch ledge all the way around - wide enough to sit a drink on, if you really wanted your beer nice and toasty warm. It's less than 3 feet across, so not too large, but perfect for roasting hotdogs and marshmallows, which is what we did. (Aside: two years ago, for Owen's second Christmas, we bought a small, potted evergreen, thinking we wouldn't have to worry about him pulling it over on himself, and then we could plant it in the yard to keep. It never made it into the ground, and it never even made it out of the backyard - it died a slow death, over in the composting corner. Fast forward two years and we have most excellent, well seasoned firewood for our first ever fire! Waste not, want not!)

It was all we could do to keep Jake from crawling over and pulling himself up using the ledge, since Mr. I-Love-To-Cruise-The-Furniture couldn't understand why this particularly interesting piece of backyard decor was off limits. But Owen was really, really good. Always gave it a wide berth when he was walking by, and never once tried to reach over and touch, etc.

I'm putting this all down to preparation. My parents have a similar wood burning apparatus in their backyard, and he's used to fires at Grandma and Grandpa's house from last summer. And I can't remember how the dicussion first came up, but one of his favourite "stories" is about fire safety. While Owen loves him a good story about Cars or Thomas, sometimes he's into non-fiction. I laughed really hard when Erica once told me that she explained potholes to Nathan one day, and from then on, he'd request "The Story of Potholes". That was before I had my own two-year-old, who requests the story of "Mommy and Owen go to the Grocery Store", "Owen and Jakey Eat Their Lunch", or "What We Do If There's A Fire".

Owen knows if your clothes catch on fire, you are supposed to Stop, Drop, and Roll. This is a favourite game at Casa del Howard. It sometimes gets a little out of hand, like when Owen shoves Jake down and rolls the poor baby over and over. "But Mommy!" he yells indignantly, as I carry him off to his room for timeout, "Jake was on FIRE!!" He knows the phone number you call to get the firefighters to come to our house is nine-one-one. And he knows that the firefighters will come spray water on the house, and that we'll have to go stand outside. He even knows that we'll all go over to Anthony's house (Owen's favourite neighbour) to wait safely until the firefighters say it's okay. Technically, he also knows that if he hears the smoke detector go off, that means that there's a fire and Mommy or Daddy will come get him to leave the house, but since our detector (right outside the boys rooms) HAS gone off in the middle of the night, and NEITHER boy woke up (it was the "low battery" warning, so it wasn't continuous, but it still went off with a long, loud, shrill BEEEEP every 5 minutes starting at 2 am one night until we managed to pry a 9 volt out of one of Owen's toys....) it's just academic.

So, we're looking forward to many more fun evenings around the fire. And if you happen to come by and see us rolling around in the family room, don't worry. We're just practicing for the inevitable playing.

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies!

When I first heard about this, I thought it was just somebody's fantastic idea. A friend had posted the quotation: "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a zombie in possession of brains must be in want of more brains" to their status on Facebook, with a credit to "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies", which I just thought was them being funny, and laughed out loud. Imagine my surprise when I see in the bookstore yesterday that it IS a book! I snapped it up.

I'm only about a quarter of the way through, but I'm loving it. Pride and Prejudice is one of my favourite stories, and the campy addition of the zombies is just great fun. I'm enjoying Elizabeth as a master of the killing arts, and I particularly loved the "Pentagram of Death" as performed by all 5 Bennet girls. And who would have thought that quiet, book-larnin' Mary would be the one to jump up on the table and attempt to stab Mr. Collins in offence to one of his comments? (Happily she is restrained by Lydia, enabling the sappy Mr. Collins to live another day, and eventually, as I'm gleaning from sneaking ahead peeks at the awesome illustrations, marry a zombified Charlotte Lucas!!) Not to mention that the talent of vomiting politely into one's hands puts me in mind of my sister's ability to vomit daintily into a wineglass. Can't wait to finish it out and see how it all ends, but also couldn't wait to share my delight.

Don't know how much fun it would be if you weren't familiar with the original P&P. My husband enjoyed the Bolly-riffic "Bride and Prejudice" without any foreknowledge of the original, but I believe that to truly appreciate P&P&Z, you might want to know the original. (So, those of you who have finished with The Grapes of Wrath and Season 4 of Buffy, now you know what to do with your free time!)

Seth Grahame-Smith, I take my hat off to you - I'm sure I'm not the only English major who wishes she thought of this idea first! Now, my next request, please add vampires to Little Women! (And not the sparkly, twee Twilight kind, but the real kind, okay??)

Brotherly Love

Summer has arrived. :)

When You Wish Upon a Star...

The other night, we were sitting in the family room. When the curtains are open and the lights are on, you can see the reflections of the potlights in the window - Jake likes to point them out to us. (Very big into pointing at things these days, is Jake.)

Owen looked at the lights, and then noticed he could see something else. "Mommy! There's a STAR!"

Sure enough, we could see one tiny spark in the sky, so it was time to make a wish.

"Star light, star bright, first star we see tonight, wish we may, wish we might, have the wish we wish tonight..."

Owen: "I wish for a BABY in my BELLY! Like Mickle Pickle!"

Mommy: "Really?"

Owen: "YES! And then it will turn into a blue dinosaur with PINK POLKA DOTS!"

I love that kid. Him and his weirdly specific wishes. Can't wait to hear what he wishes for on his birthday! :)

Happy Birthday to the King of Howieland!

Today the King of Howieland turns 34. My life is so much better for having him in it. He has given me almost 12 years of unconditional love and devotion, 7 years of married bliss, 2 beautiful boys, and 1 wonderful life.

I'm not sure if I've shared this story before or not, but it's worth sharing again. Steve and I call each other "Big Brick" and "Baby Brick". It goes back years - we like to sleep cuddled up in bed, back to back. Neither of us likes our arms tangled up, but we like to be close when we sleep, so we're often that way instead of spooning. Steve says that we're like bricks, which are better than spoons. Spoons get taken out of their drawers and separated, but bricks are cemented together for always. And sometimes we'll even jokingly refer to Owen (now both boys) as our "Mortar".

Happy Birthday Big Brick! I love you today and always.

The Big Five-Oh!

With this one little post, my 2009 blog output is now equal to the sum of all previous years. That's right, this English major can do the math!

On a completely unrelated note, I updated my Facebook status (I know, but seriously, I go back to work in two months. I need Twitter like I need another Y chromosome in my house) to read "Cari has too much surplus". Not only my favourite line from Disney's Cars movie, but an accurate reflection of how I feel whenever I look in our spare room closet, or the basement. We have too much! Period. But thankfully, some baby clothes and other assorted baby-oriented items will be distributed among some pregnant friends, and various other odds and ends will be Kijiji'd. Either that or we'll be having a garage sale sometime this summer.

(Also, I know not everyone has seen Cars, but I'm pretty sure the line stands on its own, decontextualized. But a few people are asking me what I have too much of....is the definition of "surplus" not common knowledge? Personally, I laugh every time I hear that line; but then again, I also laughed at "I have a big head, and little arms".)

Got Milk?

So, further on the topic of Jake, he's got two teeth through, the front bottom ones. Today he finally cut one of the top front ones, and he's got swollen gums showing that the second top one and the two on either side of the bottom two will be here shortly. So that's two teeth, one nub, and three pending. Although Owen got his first two teeth nearly two months before Jake did, he got his second two in May, so Jake is right on track with that.

I am still nursing him. He eats a lot of baby and regular food, three meals a day, plus snacks. But he nurses when he first wakes, generally following a meal, and then a few times before bed (he's been sleeping through for a little while now, touch wood, so not feeding during the night). He never has taken a bottle, but he'll drink from a straw, sippie, or even a regular cup. However, he'll only take water. He's not interested in breast milk from anything but the source, or in formula however it's presented.

This is okay with me. By this point with Owen, we were about to give up nursing. He was a biter, and with two teeth, it was bad. I tried all kinds of things to get him to stop. I would yell, put him down, tell him "no" sternly, and he would look up at me and laugh. The only time he wouldn't bite was if he woke up in the night to nurse - he would be half asleep the entire time. Jake tried gumming me once or twice before his teeth even came in. I did the same routine with him, but he would look up, and give me the crumple face: that pouty look that means he's about to cry. He got it - after a couple of times, he stopped trying to bite me. Hasn't even tried once since he's gotten his two chompers, so I'm not worried about these new ones. With Owen, I was in tears.

With Owen, once the top teeth came in, not only was he biting, he was drawing blood. Since he wouldn't take formula, I didn't want to stop breastfeeding, because he wasn't eating enough to get all the vitamins and nourishment he needed yet from real food alone, but I was in a lot of pain, and too sore to pump. I don't know if I cried more from the pain, or from not knowing what to do. Finally, after a particularly bloody battle, Steve took Owen, got a bottle of formula, and sat down, determined to get him to take it. And you know what that cheeky monkey did? Took that bottle like he'd been doing it all along. So that was it - weaned to bottles of formula at 10 months, no more breastfeeding.

And as relieved as I felt, I was still sad - I really enjoyed breastfeeding, when it wasn't a blood sport. I always thought I'd breastfeed for at least a year, and then see how things went. I was sad that we didn't have a "last time" - the last time I breastfed him, I didn't know it was the last, and I certainly didn't enjoy it. I'm hoping that will be different with Jake.

I'll be going back to work when Jake is just over a year, so by then, we'll have to be done with breastfeeding during the day. But if he's still into nursing in the morning and before bed, I'll be happy to keep that up for a little while. I know that I'm not comfortable with the idea of him walking up to me and lifting up my shirt himself. The other day, I was talking to Steve while nursing Jake, and he sat up, climbed over my lap, and tried to latch onto my other side while standing beside me, all on his own! Whoa! Not cool. I got him settled back down lying in my lap, and had a bit of a laugh. But I just didn't find that cozy - I felt a little pawed and manhandled. So maybe I just need to teach him better manners. :) We'll see - I don't know how much longer our nursing relationship will last, but I'm enjoying it now, and since he's going to be my last baby, I plan to keep it up as long as I am still enjoying it. We'll see. Of course, if the appearance of the new teeth change Jake into Chompy McChomperson, I reserve the right to call in reinforcements in the form of his dad with a bottle. ;)

Little Man

Owen tends to get the lion's share of updates here, I think, because simply by nature of being two-going-on-three, pretty much everything that he's doing these days is hilarious. (Case in point: we were at a birthday party on Saturday, and my girlfriend wondered aloud how she was going to cut into the cake, because there were so many details on it. Owen: You can do it! You just need a knife!) But Jake is doing all kinds of wonderful things too, and even if they are a lot quieter than Owen's things, they are no less amazing. So here's a brief update on our littlest man.

Jake is quite the talker. For "words" he says Dada, Mama, and Hi. (Hi is always accompanied by a little wave. He waves "bye" too, but doesn't say anything.) He understands EVERYTHING we say. He'll be across the room, and Owen (the little pot-stirrer!) will hold the gate open and say "Come on Jakey!" and slap-slap-slap, here comes Jake tearing across the room, through the gate, then sitting on his little bum and looking expectantly up at big brother, like Okay, what next? (Next is usually the stairs, which he climbs easily. Down is another matter entirely, but he FLIES up them.) But he babbles all the time, nonsense words, talking to his toys, his brother, all of us. He likes to sing too, and will often sing to himself in the Jeep. He answers to Jake, Jakey, Jacob, and Pickle-Mickle, which is Owen's nickname for him.

He eats anything and everything. More specifically, he eats anything and everything that Owen eats. I have to feed them at different times if Owen's eating something that Jake can't have, because otherwise Jake won't eat. Which is kind of a pain, so we try and feed them the same stuff. If Owen's having a sandwich, Jake gets a piece of whole wheat bread to nibble. Happily they both like yogurt and applesauce, and Jake is getting fairly adept at gumming all kinds of food.

Jake has got some moves! He loves to dance to any kind of music. He'll sit on his bottom and wave his arms in the air, or he'll stand (holding on with one hand) and bop up and down, usually with a big grin, maybe with some yelling/singing. And he's a copycat - all ready, he'll pick up anything that looks remotely like a stick, and use it to whack anything that looks remotely like a ball. The hockey mini-sticks are now all his. He'll even pick up Owen's bat, crawl over to his tee, and start taking whacks at it.

He's a sweetie - he has a REALLY long tongue, that he loves to stick out. In fact, if you ask him, "Let's see that tongue!" he'll stick it out for you. I've been trying to teach him to blow kisses, but either his hand-head coordination is really lacking, or he just doesn't get it yet - if I blow him a kiss, he whacks himself in the ear repeatedly. Um, nice try honey! And he does "number 1", holding up one little finger in the air if you ask him "Who's number 1, Jake?" (Owen used to do this with both hands, but Jake just does it with the right.)

He's still my little cuddle-bug, though. He's definitely mommy's little boy. He LOVES his daddy, Da-da was the first word, don't forget, and he goes NUTS whenever Steve comes home. But sometimes, only Mommy will do. And he lets you know with the "baby monkey" routine - he clings so tightly to me, that even if I weren't holding on to him, he wouldn't fall. I have bruises on the backs of my one arm now that I'm wearing t-shirts instead of long-sleeves. He grabs a handful of my clothes in each tiny fist, and holds on for dear life. He'll smile at daddy, or grandma, or whomever is coming close, but he sure won't go once he's in mommy's arms. If I put him down and he's distracted, he's perfectly happy with anyone who will play with him, and then he's fine to be picked up by them as well. But allow someone to take him from his Mommy? No dice. :)

He's my little peanut, and I can't believe he's ten months old all ready. Before you know it, that first birthday will be here. (Number 1!) Sigh. My little baby boy. Very much loved!

Clearly Speaking

Busy, busy, busy. Of course, whose life isn't these days? I did my EndurRace, with a personal best in both distances! I was hoping to do the 5K in under 30 minutes, and I did it in 30 minutes, 26 seconds, so I was quite pleased (my previous time had been about 34 minutes). My previous 8K time (two years ago, the last time I ran it) was just under 55 minutes - I was just hoping to beat that time. I blew it away, finishing in 49 minutes, 51 seconds! I'm so proud of myself!! And so, so happy to finally have completed both races that make up this event. Yay me! The best was having Steve and the boys cheering for me - nothing motivates you for those last hundred metres like hearing your little guy yelling "Go Mommy go! Go Mommy go!"

Lots of other stuff has been going on, some good, some not so good. The really sad news is that we lost Steve's Grandma last weekend. She had been ill for some time, with growing tumours in her lungs. At her age (94) there really wasn't anything they could do for her - her body wouldn't have withstood radiation or an operation, so the doctors just did the best they could to make her comfortable. We will be getting together with family to celebrate her life next weekend.

The boys are growing like crazy. Jake has two teeth, and is the fastest thing around here on all fours. He's literally crawling the knees out of his pants! And speaking of pants, Owen keeps getting taller. I bought new pants for him, but since we're nearly done with pants-wearing-weather, I bought them big enough to (hopefully!) fit him this fall. Which means we're currently rolling the cuffs, and he finds that annoying. Thank goodness most places are putting the adjustable waists into pants, because he's still a skinny minny. Also, those pants are staying completely dry during the day, and Owen is finally telling us when it's time to go on the potty, instead of the other way 'round. Life is good!

I will be trying to post more regularly, evenings have been kind of full of late, and while I've been wanting to post, my brain hasn't been able to handle it. But I do have to quickly post this conversation we had with Owen in the car yesterday before I forget it. (If I don't put these stories down somewhere, I'll never remember them!)

(Owen was playing with a pair of sunglasses.)

Owen (putting on sunglasses): Wow! These sunglasses are really queer!

Mommy: (Sharing a "did we just hear that?" glance with Steve) Pardon me?

O: These sunglasses are really, really, queer Mommy! I like them.

M: Um, where did you hear the word "queer", Owen? (Wondering how I'm even going to start a conversation about the heady semantics of that word with my two-year-old...)

O: On Sid the Science Kid.

M: What???!!! (Mentally reviewing recent Sid episodes... love that show, but pretty sure there hasn't been one about sexual orientation recently... wait, there was one about glasses... making your vision....) OHHH! The glasses are really CLEAR!

O: That's what I said, Mommy. These glasses are cwear.

Owen pronounces his L's like W's. It's something I don't even notice anymore, we're so used to it. Steve and I laughed the rest of the way home.

Neither Snow Nor Sleet (um, Ice!)

The first weekend of the EndurRace is less than two weeks away. I'll be running 5K on the 18th, and 8K on the 25th. This means that I can no longer slack off in my running, because come hell or high water, I'll be out there on the 18t,h wearing a number, and I'd really prefer not to have to get picked up by the cleanup crew that comes out to round up stragglers. (I'm pretty sure they only do that during marathons, but I really don't want to find out!)

SO! Owen was off to daycare today, and Jake and I had to run. Notwithstanding the 15 cm of snow we got yesterday, we had to run. Nevermind that running with the stroller in the wind is like running with a parachute (and that's without the storm cover on...) we had to run. So, I gave Jake a teething biscuit to keep him happy, strapped him into his fleecy stroller bag, and covered him with his plastic bubble. (Um, I dressed him in winter gear as well.)

Thanks to the lovely Auntie Erica, with whom I had the most amazing extended-birthday-afternoon on Saturday, I am now the proud owner of a pair of Yak Trax to fit under my shoes. I'm sure she thought I wouldn't be getting any use out of them until next winter, but they were just what I needed today! Outside is a mess of sticky, blowing snow on top of a crunchy, icy crust - pretty much the worst running surface ever. But my Yak Trax gave me the traction necessary to push Jake up the hills, and the control to keep my stride up down the hills. We ran on the sidewalks, which we don't usually do. Ashphalt is easier on the knees, but on a day like today, we don't trust the drivers in our neighbourhood to be looking out for us. (Or to be able to stop on the ice even if they are looking out for us.)

They were great! Jake and I did 7K. That's right, in the ice, snow and wind, we did 7K. I'm pretty sure my Trax would have stayed attached to my shoes even without the velcro attachment overtop, and the rubbery/springy traction pieces were comfy to run in over the snow and ice. I wouldn't want to run on them all the time on a dry surface, but for the few places where people had shovelled down to bare sidewalk, they were fine, and even helped absorb some of the pounding that makes me avoid concrete .

EndurRace, here I come! :)

Competitive Spirit!

I don't know if this is a boy thing, or a two-and-a-half thing, or just an Owen thing. He's become ridiculously competitive! Every thing is a chance to win, or a chance to beat someone. Putting on our shoes? "I'm beating you, Mommy!" Having a bath? "I'm winning Mommy! Jakey is losing!" Driving? "We're passing that car! We're winning!" Which can be cute, but he's a TERRIBLE loser! And when everything in our life has become a contest, he loses often.

I'm not talking about losing at a game or something I could cheat at to ensure an outcome that does not involve screaming. We're talking about scenarios where I didn't even realize he was in danger of losing until the yelling starts. We were all having dinner the other night, and I was feeding Jake his "mush" at the same time. Jake finished the veggies and I told him he was a good boy for eating all his dinner. Owen burst into tears! "I lost Mommy? Jakey beat me?" Hoo boy.

As parents, of course, Steve and I know that how we deal with this is extremely important. Winning and losing are a part of life, and there are some important lessons to be learned here. And as any good set of parents would do, we've completely leveraged this to our advantage for potty training.

Yep. Warm up the handbasket for us, because we've actually told our son that going on the potty is winning, and going in his pants is losing. And we haven't stopped there, oh no. Whenever he goes on the potty, we tell him he's "beating his friends!" (Nevermind that practically all his friends were potty trained months ago, beating these unnamed "friends" is what makes winning that much sweeter for him. It's succeeding where praise, stickers, and even lollipops have failed!)

Say what you will about our tactics, but the kid has had "underwear under there" for three days now, and has only had four "losses" in that time. (Diapers still for bed.) And whenever he does lose, we talk about how he'll get another chance to try and win again, so it's not like it's all bad. He's a winner, like Lightening McQueen on his underpants. (Of course, tonight when we were putting a diaper on for bed, he wanted to know "Is Elmo a loser Mommy?")

We're very proud of our big boy! I should have known the time was right for him to finally get it: I just bought a club-pack of his current diaper size. I'm sure we'll use them up for overnights. We've been out and about too, using washrooms in stores, at friends' homes, and in restaurants, and he's got a perfect record on the road.

And ball hockey starts in two weeks, so we'll get another chance to screw up work on the whole "winning isn't everthing" message then. In the meantime, his jock fits lots better over Lightening McQueen than Elmo.

Friday's List of Ten IX

Ten things to remember whilst attending Afternoon Tea at Langdon Hall tomorrow with Erica:*

10. All signs to the contrary, we're not there to enjoy ourselves. We're there for our health - two cups of tea a day can have significant health benefits, you know. We're doing this to escape benefit our husbands and children!

9. Proper service of lemon slice vs. lemon wedge: a lemon slice can float in your tea cup, a lemon wedge is meant to be squeezed and discarded on the edge of your saucer. I think tea with lemon is disgusting, so I will be disposing discreetly of any lemon bits served to me in the nearest potted plant. Failing any such handy plants, I will be politely lofting them over my shoulder.

8. The proper eating of a scone involves breaking off a bite-sized piece, and then applying cream and/or jam to said piece before popping it daintily into one's mouth. Like a dinner roll, one should not attempt to saw it in half with the butter knife before slathering it with toppings and then taking bite after bite. Am I wrong in thinking this rule probably came from the pre-dental-advances British wanting to ensure they were exposed to as little view of each other's wonky teeth as possible?

7. Twelve-inch napkins are used for Afternoon Tea service - I have packed my handy ruler in my handbag, so as to be sure that I am not being short-changed in the napkin department!

6. The proper stirring of tea. Apparently, one is to "Place your tea spoon at the six o'clock position and softly fold the liquid towards the twelve o'clock position two or three times." I have been practicing with my breakfast Cheerios, but have a distressing tendency to want to fold from 12 to 6, instead of the proper 6 to 12. Fortunately, I already know about removing one's spoon from the tea before drinking (this needed to be a rule? Seriously, how many people poked themselves in the eye before this became a rule??)

5. Sugar tongs are sometimes referred to as "sugar nips". Try not to giggle if someone does so.

4. Afternoon Tea is NOT High Tea. There is a special level of Hell reserved for those who confuse the two.

3. Proper service for the eats on a three-tiered stand is scones on top, sandwiches and savories in the middle, and yummies on the bottom. Traditionally, service is provided to remove each tier at the progression of each course. (If they think that's going to stop me from having dessert first, then they've got another "jolly good" coming!)

2. Pinkies up! I always thought this was an affectation, but apparently, the proper way to grasp your teacup is "By placing ones fingers to the front and back of the handle with ones pinkie up ... (which) allows (for) balance. It is not an affectation, but a graceful way to avoid spills." The pinkie up is for BALANCE! And actually looping ones fingers through the handle on the teacup reveals that you were raised in a barn. And not one of those nice, red-painted barns, but one of those saggy-roofed, a-few-boards-are-missing-from-the-walls, I-hope-no-animals-are-actually-kept-in-there barns.

1. And of course the number one etiquette rule in any situation: to point and laugh heartily, fully shaming those who are less couth than ourselves into a state of agoraphobia. (No, I know my Miss Manners. Etiquette exists to govern our own behavior, and proper behavior does not allow for us to make others uncomfortable by pointing out their faux pas. Such as my originally writing this sentence to read "there faux pas".)

*With thanks to this site for offering British Royal Household Approved tea tips and interesting facts!

Share and share alike

Okay, so like all parents of toddlers, we've constantly been drilling home the "sharing" lesson since before Owen could even comprehend it. We've come a long way with him, and he pretty much gets it. He knows that sharing is good, especially sharing when someone has nothing, and that sometimes we even have share things that are special to us. When you're 2, even M&Ms are special to you, so this has been a tricky one. But the kid's finally got it.

Last weekend, after a Family Shower (yes, we have a really big shower in the master bathroom, and sometimes the most efficient way to get everyone out the door in the morning is to just all get in there together. It's chaos lots of fun!) Owen was running around upstairs, enjoying being "naked without a diaper". (It's potty-training leverage - the kid LOVES to be naked, but since he hasn't been potty trained, we usually insist he has to be naked-with-a-diaper. Since he's getting better at using the potty, he gets to be naked-without-a-diaper now. Woo hoo!)

I was dressing Jake, and Owen came running in:

Owen: Here I am mommy!

Mommy: There you are. Are you going to get dressed?

O: (running from the room) NO! I'm naked without a diaper! I'm running with my penis!

M: ??? (He was running down the hall, so I wasn't entirely sure I'd properly heard that last part. Does that really require a response? I didn't think it did.)

O: (running back into the room) Mommy, you want to run around with your penis?

M: No thanks Owen. Remember, Mommy is a girl. Mommy doesn't have a penis. Only boys like Daddy, and Owen, and Jake have them.

O: (stops dead in his tracks as he considers this, then gives me a big smile) You can share my little penis, Mommy!

Well, it doesn't get much more "special" than that, does it?

Join the Club

The 100K club, that is. Wouldn't you like to? Of course, if you work in the public sector (I do) then apparently it's everyone's business if you make more than 100K a year. (Before taxes, and including benefits, don't forget.) I have no worries about being on this list. What I do is not worth 100K a year. Don't get me wrong, I work hard (um, when I'm not on mat leave, that is) but I happily leave at the end of the day and spend time with my family, and forget about work until the next day. Yes, there are probably other people who could do what I do.

But for the higher ups at the Region and other local government who ARE on the list, I would argue that there are very FEW people who could do what they do. Managing people is not easy. Managing the entire Region, with all its unions and the public scrutiny, is a big job. Higher ups are definitely putting in more than 35-40 hours a week, and there's the whole "walk a mile in their shoes" thing. Plus, they're not in the stratosphere - the highest local government earners are in the high 100K-low 200K range, which I actually find to be quite reasonable. My director made the list, and so did my manager (barely). These guys are both professional engineers. They have training and knowledge that a lot of people don't. I will never move up into their jobs, I'm not qualified. They work hard and deserve their salaries.

What is completely UN-reasonable is the fact that there are people on this list making over a million dollars a year. Even over TWO million dollars a year! The hell??? My reaction is not because of the downturn in the economy. I get pissed about this every time this list comes out. There is NO WAY that the CEO of Ontario Power Generation is worth that much. What in the heck is he doing, casting fantasic spells that are keeping dragons from frying the province to a crisp?? Maybe "CEO of OPG" is just his mild-mannered ego, and his office is really located on the Hellmouth, and he spends his nights saving the world from demons and vampires while the rest of us sleep in blissful oblivion. (No Buffy fans out there? Just me then? Okay.) His trusty sidekick, "CEO of OMERS" started off a little geeky, but really came into his own in Season 4 when he started the whole practicing witchcraft thing.... (Seriously? Only me, huh?)

Nope. Nuh-uh. You cannot convince me that people are worth this much money. MAYBE if you work in the private sector and are responsible for making this kind of money for your investors, you deserve a piece of the pie. Maybe. (And don't even get me started on AIG executives. I'm just not going to go there with companies receiving handouts.) I am happy with how my OMERS pension fund is performing, but I just can't find 2 million dollars worth of happiness in my heart. Sour grapes? I'm pretty sure not.

I agree with Dwight Duncan that the number of 100K employees is not such a big deal, especially given inflation. What percentage of those people are in the lower range? Looks like a lot, from what I can see. Where we need to take a good look is at those in the 1M club. Maybe even the 500K club. But 100K? Not so much.

(Season 4 Buffy! Those of you who have finished reading The Grapes of Wrath, go watch! The rest of you, back to the book.)

Long Story Short

March Break. Trip to Ottawa. Baby Gracie! Good news from great friends. Museum of Science and Tech. Juggling and train engines. Doggy fun. First joint-birthday celebration in years! Boys awesome on the road. Running. 5K in 34 minutes with the stroller in the wind. Jake says Ma-ma. Actual birthday. Sleeping in. Fabulous dinner out with Steve. New patio furniture (front and back). CAKE! Steve re-discovers online poker, seriously cutting into my computer time. A good friend gets engaged! Owen spends one day dry, going on the potty. Jake is cutting tooth number one. Oh, and Abby home and healthy!

We'll return to regular scheduled programming soon. :)

Long Overdue

I finally got around to installing the software for our new camera (ran out of room on the memory card, just the motivation I needed!). Here are some fun recent family pics, and there are entries below for Christmas and New Years.

New Years Photos

We were in Ottawa for New Years, where we finally got to meet my lovely niece, baby Gracie, and hang with Auntie Kristi and Uncle Ryan, and visit with Auntie Lee Ann and Uncle Evan too. Good thing I cleared the camera, I'm posting these in time for our March Break trip up - maybe we'll get over to Lee Ann and Evan's house, and get some pictures of the boys with their adorable pups!

Christmas Photos

We went to Barrie before Christmas, where Owen got his train table from Grandma and Grandpa (Grandpa built it - yes, Owen has an oak train table. It's nicer than my dining room table. He is nuts about it!)

Christmas morning at home - Mommy, Daddy, and the boys.

Go ahead, make my day!

Okay, remember this lady? Well, I meant to blog about a discussion with another stranger at the track that totally makes up for that one, but I'd forgotten about it, until seeing the same gentleman there again this past Thursday. He totally made my day last week!

I was there with my StrollerFit class (which I also really love, it's offered through Belly Buttons, and the instructor, Trish, is awesome. She's going to do the EndurRACE 8K with me in April.*) Trish works us in intervals: we do a lap of the track, and then some weight work with resistance bands, or lunges, or crazy-butt-working-kick-things. The point is, we run a lot. (Well, not everyone runs - you go at your own level.)

ANYWAY! I had just finished a lap, and an elderly gentleman came up and said to me that he just had to ask: had I ever raced track seriously? He said that I had a fantastic running stride. He told me that he used to be a track coach, and that I had great form - good leg turnover, a long stride, keeping my head level, and making it look effortless. After joking that I'm glad he thought it looked effortless, I told him I'd actually been really working on my form, so he had just made my day. He told me he was at the track training to do a 10K run with his daughter this summer, so I'm sure we'll see him again. Jake liked him too - he had a big smile for him again when we saw him there again this week.

I've actually been working really hard to lengthen my stride, (it's easy to shuffle your feet when you get tired, and then I lose all the benefit of having long legs!) and keep my head up, and steady (legs doing all the work of moving me horizontally, instead of wasting effort in bobbing up and down. Think of the marathoners you see in the Olympics - the girls' ponytails don't even swish!) By concentrating on form, I'm doing the same distance with less effort - running upright with a longer stride, I cover more ground in fewer steps. (Um, this is the theory, anyway. It still FEELS like a lot of effort, but the math works.) But it's hard to evaluate myself, so it was super great to be complimented like that. (And honestly, this man had to be in his seventies. He was not hitting on me. Or maybe he was, I guess you never know, but I'm still taking the running compliment at face value.) Am superwoman running goddess. Go me. :)

* Yep, I'm all signed up for the EndurRACE: 5K on April 18, and then 8K on April 25. Both races at 6 p.m. - come cheer for me, locals! ;)

Friday's List of Ten VIII

Milestones that Jake reached this week (I'm not kidding. The kid has done all of these things since last weekend.):

10. Moved from the bucket seat into his (rear-facing) big-boy carseat. Which means that without the bucket, I am wrangling two boys when I'm out and about. He now sits beside Owen in the shopping cart. Grocery shopping just became a contact sport!

9. Stopped waking himself up in the night practicing crawling. He's finally sleeping better again. Yeah, remember this post? Oh the hubris! We all got sick, and the good sleeping came to an end. But he's really on a roll now, and doesn't need to practice, because...

8. He crawls! Like Owen, he would pull himself up and walk along the furniture before crawling. But he's finally figured it out. It's only been a few days, and he's v--e--r--y deliberate and careful, but he's definitely on the move.

7. Did I mention the pulling up on the furniture? The other day I went in because he'd woken up from a nap, and he was standing in the crib, shaking the bars. Time to lower the mattress again, and remove the climbing aid bumper pad.

6. He peed in the shower. Now that he likes to stand up holding on to things, he had his first shower with me where he stood like a big boy, holding the bench the whole time. And when you're eight months old and you gotta go, you gotta go.

5. He gives high fives! He's been clapping for a while now, but if you held up your hand for a five, he'd just stare at it. Now he whacks away with enthusiasm, grinning the whole time.

4. He got his first bloody nose. I put him down on the floor at the Rec Centre while I filled my water bottle, and he decided to move from sitting onto his tummy. But his winter jacket is so bulky, he didn't get his hands in front of him in time, and did a face plant on the tiles. Poor little babe, one red, drippy nostril. Along with that, he also got...

3. His first bloody lip. At first I thought it was blood from the nose, but I wiped it, and it came back. I wiped it again, and it came back. A third wipe, and it stayed gone. Thank goodness he doesn't have any teeth yet!

2. Ate his first real food. He likes his mush, but would always much rather have whatever Owen is having. Last night, Owen was having alphabet soup with vegetables. Jake sampled the noodles, and the mushy veggies, courtesy of Daddy. Owen was happy to share. Jake was ecstatic. (Oh come on, alphabet soup is TOO real food!)

1. Said his first word. He's been babbling for some time, and da-da-da-da-da recently became part of the lexicon. But said three times, it's capitalized: Da-da-da. He knows that's Steve. He looks around for him when he says it, and if you ask him where Da-da-da is, he zeros in on daddy. Too cute, because Owen's first word was "Mem", and that was me, so it's nice that Steve is Jake's first word. :)

Thank you, please keep praying!

Abby did have to have a second surgery, (the first was to try and clear fluid from around her lungs, and to insert a chest tube to keep draining) as scans revealed the level of fluid around her lungs was too much for the current tube to get rid of. But she's recovering well, and her mom reports that she's been holding her own, fever-wise, for 24 hours, which is a great milestone! I know all your prayers and kind thoughts are helping, so thank you!! I'm hoping this is the turning point, and that she continues to get better now until she and her mom can come home.

Made in...hmmmmm.

All this talk about the big three car manufacturers looking for bailout money, and most recently, Chrysler's threat to move their whole operation out of Canada unless they get X amount of money and the CAW employees take a $20/hour pay cut has me thinking. We have had lots of parts manufacturers in this area. Many closed their doors in the past few years, and the few left are cutting further and further back on staff and hours. Now, I feel badly for anyone who loses their job. But you have to admit that there's a certain... irony? Schadenfreude? (Not sure what the word is I'm looking for here...) in the situation. See, lots of people around here, whom, I'm assuming, work or did work for these parts makers have bumper stickers on their cars that read Out of a job yet? Keep buying foreign! (These are always on Fords and Chrysler products, by the way, not on Toyotas, some of which are actually assembled right here in Cambridge, but that's another post for another day.)

Where the irony comes in is when I see three cars all sporting this bumper sticker parked in a row. In the Wal-Mart parking lot.

Now I get that for some people, Wal-Mart is a necessary evil (or a guilty pleasure!). I'm sure there are some people who would prefer to only buy things made in Canada who shop there because they are barely making ends meet as it is. But maybe don't drive the car with anti-buying-foreign-sentiment proudly displayed on it when you go. Hmmm'kay?

I'm guilty. I don't look for a Made in Canada label. I do patronize my local farmer's market and small, local specialty shops and bakeries, but I also shop Wal-Mart and Costco. Lucky for our family, the loss of manufacturing jobs will not affect us directly. I still feel for the people it does affect, but I don't think the situation will change, and I don't think government handouts to private industry are the way to go. These are growing pains. Have you read The Grapes of Wrath? It's a good picture of the growing pains suffered as North America moved from the agricultural age to the industrial age. Now we're moving from the industrial age to the knowledge age. Can't stop it, and bailouts to private industry are only delaying the inevitable. Manufacturing in North America is no longer smart business, sad but true. How much better would it be to use that bailout money to help people support their families, and help them re-train for the knowledge industry? A lot, I think.

(I also have some thoughts about how ironic it is that unions were formed as a result of some of the issues arising as we moved into the industrial age, but that they may also have sped its passing in the last 20 years or so. But those thoughts are still percolating, and my arm is sore from one-handed typing while Jake sleeps in my other arm. So that's all you get today. Go read The Grapes of Wrath!)

Taller Than Your Mama!

I was thinking the other evening, as I hung upside-down over Jake's crib, arms around him, giving him kisses and shushing him to sleep, how do the short moms do it? When Jake (and Owen too, back in the crib days) needs comforting at night and not to eat, I don't like to take him out of the crib. If I get up on my tip-toes, I can bend at the waist right over the crib front and snuggle him. I get a bit of a head rush when I stand back up, but he knows mommy isn't pulling him out of the crib, so it's time for sleep. I also don't have the issue of "baby fell asleep in my arms, but wakes up when I put him down". So there you go - using my height to my mommy-advantage!

(Our crib converts to a double bed frame, so I don't have the drop-down option on the front.)

Heh, my height and more specifically my long legs also work to my advantage the odd time I am putting him down all ready asleep, but forgot to pull the blanket back fully when I last got him up. I stand on one foot, kick my other leg up and over into the crib, and pull the blanket aside with my toes. All while holding the sleeping baby! I never thought of this as an accomplishment until Steve saw me do it the other day. He was mighty impressed, so I just thought I'd share.

Friday's List of Ten VII

(First a note: Abby is doing really well! The enzyme treatments are working, and her mom is very encouraged. Yay Abby! We'll keep praying, and hopefully you'll be home soon.)

Okay, in honour of the lovely warm day we had (with a warm breeze, no less!): ten things I am looking forward to doing outside this spring:

10. More outdoor running! Jake and I had a lovely 5K out in the sun today, even though the wind (which was warm) was horribly strong. Who designed my subdivision so that all the uphills are against the wind?? It was like pushing an umbrella through a wind tunnel!

9. Boys in the bike trailer! Owen loves the bike trailer, and I imagine Jake will too. The only question is: will they ride nicely in it TOGETHER?

8. Playing in the backyard. Owen was all over his playfort today, and came in covered in mud. Can't wait to see Jake out there too.

7. Gardening/lawncare. We hope this is the year that we finally get the grass to grow in the back. And I can't wait to finish landscaping around our new porch in the front.

6. More family walks. Since the snow started melting, Owen has discovered burrs, gravity's effect on strollers on an incline, and that cattails may look like sticks, but after a winter under the snow, they tend to turn to mush when you try to pick them up. Can't wait to see what else there is out there!

5. Lounging, on the back deck or front porch, on new patio furniture (we think we've found what we want, finally!)

4. BBQing! (Well, Steve tends to do this, not me. But that's why I'm looking forward to it!)

3. Moving the hockey/soccer/baseball fun outside instead of in the basement.

2. Puddle jumping! This is one of Owen's and my favourite things to do outside together.

1. Getting to see the neighbours again. We've had some changeover through the winter, but it's hard to meet new neighbours when we all drive straight into our garages, and only come out to shovel.

I say a little prayer for you

One of Owen's little friends is in the hospital with pneumonia (ask me how awful I'm feeling about making that "walking pneumonia" crack about myself a few weeks back!) Please keep little Abby in your prayers. She's stable, but had a few complications so she was moved from Kitchener to London at the beginning of this week, where they're trying a new enzyme treatment that seems to be helping. She's already undergone one surgery, poor little tyke, and if this enzyme treatment helps, she won't have to have another.

Please keep Abby's wonderful mom Kristyn in your thoughts as well. Kristyn is pregnant, in a strange town, and while she has her mom at her side, due to extenuating circumstances she doesn't have her husband there, which must be tough. And while we're at it, please also think of poor Abby's dad, who can't be there for her. I can't imagine anything more horrible than not being able to be with one of the boys if they were sick.

I know you people are out there reading this, even if you're not commenting, and I know most of you are parents. When you hug your own little ones today and count your blessings, please send an extra prayer for Abby's continued improvement and health. We hope she and Owen can play together again soon.

Where is Directions, so that I might follow him?

Scene: Owen and Mommy are sitting on the couch. Owen is eating a bowl of grapes. Mommy is playing Wii reading a parenting guide. Owen starts to gag a bit on a grape.

Mommy: Honey, remember what mommy told you. When you eat the big grapes, you need to bite them in half. Don't stick the whole grape in your mouth, it's too big. You need to take a bite of the big ones, okay?

Owen: Okay Mommy.

Owen: (holds up grape) Is this grape too big Mommy? Should I bite it?

Mommy: (concentrating on Donkey Kong, who is coming up fast and threatening my tentative first place position with all the banana peels he keeps lobbing my way a particularly insightful chapter, but wanting to encourage him to bite them all) Yes honey, all the grapes in your bowl are too big, you should bite them all.

Owen: Okay Mommy. (a few minutes later...) I'm done my snack Mommy, can I play hockey ball in the basement?

Mommy: (now distracted by Wario, who is trying to muscle me off the track and into the lava a poignant example of wonderful parenting in the next chapter) Sure sweetie. Have fun.

A few minutes later, Mommy has taken the gold in the Lightning Cup finished the book and is glancing down at Owen's snack bowl.

Mommy: (falls off the couch she is laughing so hard).

Anyone with a two-year-old at home want to take a guess at what had me laughing so hard? Owen had put his snack bowl neatly on the end table. His snack bowl, full of half-grapes. He bit them all in half, as per my instructions. When I recovered, I called him back upstairs and told him he could eat the other half of the grapes too if he wanted. He wanted, and hoovered them down. Then we shared some juice. The end.

Lightbulb Moment

Let's say you're two years old. You are trying really, really hard to understand how this wild and crazy world works. Patterns and predictability are things that help, and you expect current situations to play out similar to past ones.

Let's say that when you go to Grandma's house to play, and you like one of her toys, she will often give it to you as a bribe to take home. And let's say that last weekend at Lily's birthday party, you had lots of fun playing cars, and your Uncle Steve gave you a few (of the several hundred in his collection) to take home with you.

Is it any wonder then that you would throw a kicking, screaming tantrum when leaving Olivia's party yesterday when you were informed that you could not bring your favourite of Nathan's toys home? It shouldn't have been, I suppose, but it takes me a bit sometimes to figure out how your little two-year old mind works. I figured it out in time to explain it to you in the car on the way home, and I think you get it now. But in the meantime, everyone else just thinks you had too much cake and excitement. (Contributing factors to the scale of the tantrum, but definitely not the triggers.) Man, what a confusing place the world must be when you're two!

Friday's List of Ten VI

Ten signs of Owen's budding environmental awareness:

10. He knows the difference between garbage and recycling.

9. He knows where the garbage goes after the garbage truck picks it up. ("To Mommy's work!")

8. He knows what sorts of things go in the recycling bin ("Recycling! Not garbage!") Also funny: he insists on calling it the "recycling bin", and not the "blue box".

7. When prompted, he can actually list what sorts of things get recycled. ("Cans, plastic, and paper. Not garbage!")

6. He knows that recycling is how you make new things out of old. Unfortunately, thanks to something he saw on TV, he thinks things just all get turned back into themselves - bottles from bottles, etc. (This is only true for metal. Aluminum cans can be recycled into new aluminum cans without any loss or degredation. If you recycle nothing else, PLEASE get those cans in the blue box! Plastics become raw materials for something else - carpet, microfleece, plastic lumber, lots of other plastic things, but not food-grade plastic anymore. Glass typically is ground and used in a road aggregate, or other very base uses. Unless you're talking beer bottles, in which case they are washed and re-used. But glass very, VERY rarely (I am tempted to say never) becomes bottles/jars again.)

5. He knows the difference between the garbage truck and the recycling truck when he sees them on the street!

4. He reminds us to turn off the taps.

3. He seems excited about the prospect of taking stuff to the backyard composter (will be his job when the weather warms up.)

2. Always remembers to turn lights off when he leaves a room.

1. FREAKS OUT if anyone else leaves lights on. This is a HUGE pet peeve of mine with Steve, so I LOVE it when Owen gets on Daddy's case about the lights. :) Go Owen!

Holy Cars!

Okay, Owen was SO WELL BEHAVED! He was so great at the "Baby Party" (did I mention that was how I was billing Babytime? It definitely worked.) He helped Jake get one of the rhythm shakers, and charmed everyone during one of the songs when, during the line "climb a ladder oh so high" he ran over to a poster with a picture of a ladder and pretended to climb! He listened nicely to the story, told the presenter Jen "I love that song!" when we sang My Little Red Wagon, and then even shared his toy cars and played very nicely with another toddler brother during the playtime at the end of the class.

Wow. Mommy was heavy with the praise, you'd better believe it! He did so well, I decided to push our luck. Usually on Thursdays after this class, Jake and I head over to the indoor track at the Waterloo Rec Centre for some running with some other toddler-free girlfriends and their little guys. I loaded up the boys in the jogging stroller, Owen in the jumpseat*, and, armed with the Fisher Price DVD player and the movie Cars, off we went. Jake took a while to settle down, he's got a nasty cold with congestion and horrible runny nose, but again, Owen was a dream. He watched the zamboni clean the ice ("Look at that zamboni GO, Mommy!") and then watched his movie, ate some crackers, and was extremely well behaved.

Maybe it's because he's still got some of his cold, he's just not feeling himself, or maybe it's because he's finally starting to mature, or maybe it's the cough syrup. Whatever it was, I'm recording the memory here, where I can read it in future days when he's less of a dream-guy. Thank you Owen for being such a good boy for Mommy today! I'm very proud of you.

* Yes, this is my stroller, only ours is black and red. The whole reason we bought it was for the ability to add the jumpseat to make it a double. It's been a dream, and I HIGHLY recommend it!

Wish Me Luck

We love Owen's babysitter. We found her through Wee Watch, and she's perfect. She's got three wonderful school-age kids of her own, and Owen adores her. I'm constantly amazed at the stuff she manages to do with the kids - baking, crafts, workbooks. The one downside to home daycare is that if she or her kids are sick, things get a little dicey. Wee Watch does offer backup homecare with another provider, but it would be someone Owen's not familiar with, and kids he doesn't know. Since Steve's mom wasn't working, we just had a Grandma Day whenever this happened. (Not sure how this will work when Steve and I are both back to work this fall, as Steve's mom has started working again....)

Owen is still going to Patty's on Tuesdays and Thursdays, partly to keep him in a schedule, and partly so that Jake gets some quality one-on-one Mommy time. On Thursday mornings, Jake and I go to Babytime at the library. Lots of fun. We tried doing the Tales for Twos program at the library for Owen, and it didn't work. He had no interest in sitting still, or being quiet, or even paying the remotest amount of attention. After wrestling with him for four weeks and only making it through the class once, I gave up.

Patty's kids have the flu. Owen wasn't able to go yesterday, and he probably won't be able to go tomorrow. I'm going to attempt to bring him to Baby Time, and hope that he cooperates. I've been billing it as a Baby Party, since he LOVES babies, and not as Library Time, since he has negative associations with library class. (Luckily, his class was at a different branch, so I have some hope.) Other moms have brought their toddlers on occasion - they sit quietly and help their sibling participate. I don't expect Owen to be quiet, but I do hope we don't have to leave early. Wish me luck tomorrow!

Road ID

I ordered myself a birthday present. (Well, I ordered myself a present from Owen and Jake, since they're not so big on the shopping these days.) I ordered one of these, in pink. (I'm a lot more tolerant of pink for myself these days, since I'm surrounded by blue. Of course, if Owen had his way, he'd be wearing pink, sparkly Dora running shoes. And if I had my way, he would be too. But his dad nixed that. Also, I'm guessing the other kids in the ball hockey league we're thinking of signing him up for might give him a hard time. Might clash with their jerseys.)

Anyway! Road ID! Good idea! I ordered mine with my name, home number, Steve's work and cell numbers, and noted that I have no allergies, and I'm O Negative. I figure that's got me covered if I get hit by a car. I run, and I also bike, occasionally to work when the weather is good. The bike ride is just under 25 km each way, and I'm thinking of having it more for that than for the running I do, which is mainly on quiet, residential streets. But I think it's a good idea for anyone who does outdoor sports on their own. Heck, it's a good idea even if you walk to work! I have a piece of paper with essentially the same info I carry in my water bottle belt, but someone would have to know to look there. And even if you carry a wallet or something in a bike saddle bag, who's to say that bag is going in the ambulance with you? I like the idea of something I'm wearing, that's highly visible.

As a thank you to me for ordering, the co-owner sent me this lovely email (I'm adding him to our Christmas card list):

We are thrilled to have you as a customer and hope that we can count on you to spread the word about Road ID. In fact, to make it fun to spread the word, we created a unique coupon for you pass along to your friends! Here's the coupon number:

Coupon Number: ThanksCari464374

This coupon is good for $1 off any Road ID order. It can be used up to 20 times in the next 30 days.

So, anyone reading this: please! Use the coupon code. Order one. Because I actually have a friend at work whose wife was hit by a car while out jogging. One of these may have made a difference in her treatment. It definitely would have made a difference in how long it took for him to find out what had happened! (Mom, order one for Dad if he's still biking to the gym. Mapleview is the scariest road in Barrie now!) I'm hoping it will be a conversation piece that will never need to be used for its original purpose. But you never know, and it could end up being the best $20 I spend this year.

Great News!

In the Good Things Do Happen To Good People file, we just found out yesterday that friends of ours who have been trying for a baby for a very long time are pregnant! Three months pregnant, actually, and due in early September. (M&M for those of you who know them). Hooray! It is spectacularly wonderful news. Especially in light of the fact that they had an appointment to see a fertility specialist this month to start looking into treatment options. (She had been on Clomid for 6 months, with no results, so this would have been...more than that.)

(I remember just after having had Owen, commenting to this friend that maybe she'd have her first when I had my second, and we could be pregnant together! She laughed and said that while they were waiting, they weren't planning on waiting that long. They're going to be such great parents; it's extra exciting when you know how lucky a little baby is to be joining such a wonderful, loving couple!)

They're also the first of our close friends to also be going with a midwife option, which is great. Her sister was with the same practice we were (I believe her midwife was Amanda) and they've requested the same midwife. Steve was singing the praises of the midwives to our daddy-to-be friend all evening - I'm so glad that our experiences were not only so positive for me, and our boys, but for him as well. Who would have thought that Steve would become a midwifery advocate?

There is good baby news all over the place in our friends' lives. Another couple we know, who were unable to have kids, decided over the summer to begin looking into adoption. They now have three beautiful little ones (two boys and a girl, all siblings) that have been with them for nearly a month now. There were 41 couples interested in adopting these lucky little ones, and our friends are now a proud mama and papa to three under 3! (Good lord how crazy would that be! But I guess if you don't know any different.... Again, we're just so, so happy for them!)

And another girlfriend of mine, who is a wonderful mommy and always wanted a lot of kids but thought her family expansion might have to be put on hold for a while, is expecting a little surprise JuneBug! She just found out he is a boy, and I'm excited to pass on lots of our boy stuff to her, since it's the right season for it all. (She has a daughter who is Owen's age.) Babies, babies, and more babies, blessings everywhere. Life is wonderful.

Friday's List of Ten V

Ten things in my family room that should not be:

10. Clothes. My family of nudists like to disrobe in front of the TV.

9. Dishes. In spite of my best efforts, Daddy insists on eating on the couch. And Owen must monkey-see monkey-do.

8. Fridge magnets. Owen has discovered that they stick to the fireplace.

7. Owen's stroller. Not the one the boys ride in, technically I guess it's his doll Sprouty's stroller. But it was outside and has dirty wheels. Daddy didn't seem to think this was an issue when Owen asked to bring it in. Mommy wasn't around when it happened. Daddy will be cleaning the carpet.

6. Step ladder. Steve replaced a lightbulb. Steve is finished a job when it has been completed, not when all materials necessary have been cleaned up/put away. The ladder will be there until I move it, or he needs it elsewhere. (Good thing I love that man!)

5. A single, forgotten Christmas ornament. (Hmm, that reminds me, the mistletoe is still hanging in the front hall. Maybe that ladder will be getting out of here sooner than I thought!)

4. Teacher stuff. Steve has an office, but he likes to mark in front of the TV.

3. Nail stuff. Not that my nails are even worth manicuring these days, but should they magically grow over the course of a commercial break, I am ready to polish them up!

2. Too many ugly candles. We had a power outage a few weeks ago, and took the opportunity to light a bunch of candles that don't usually see the outside of a closet. Why are they still on the mantle? Why??

1. Me. Why am I not in bed? After a week of sickness and not enough sleep, you'd think I'd crash, but it's nice to have some quiet me-time, even if I am exhausted. Plus, I love you internets so much, I couldn't skip another List of Ten, so you benefit. But that's it, I'm going. G'night!

My Kids Are Cute!

I kept Owen home from the babysitters today. He's better, no more fever, and seems to be mostly back to himself, but you never know. (Okay, what kind of fever just comes on at bedtime? It was a horrible night, Owen was restless, Jake was restless, therefore Mommy was restless. I'm so tired. Why am I not in bed??)


We did, however, go to the grocery store. We needed milk, and a few other odds and ends. I was very pleased with Owen. Often, when a stranger starts talking to him, he'll play shy, or yell "NO!" at them. But he had a lovely conversation with the checkout girl. To wit:


Check Out Girl: And how are you today?


Owen: (smiles shyly) Good. (pause.) We ran out of SYRUP!


COG: Oh! Well, that's not good.


O: We had to buy some more at the store.


COG: What sorts of things do you like to put syrup on? (Uh oh, I'm thinking, a question. Yelling is sure to follow...)


O: French toast! It's delicious!


COG: (obviously smitten with my son at this point) How old are you?


O: Two.


COG: Is that your little brother or sister in there? (Jake was in the bucket, facing away from her).


O: My baby brother. He's Baby Jakey!


COG: Do you help take care of him?


O: Yes. I love my baby brother! (At this point, I'm wondering just how high the fever was last night, because this charming little gent is NOT the usual public facade of my son!)


COG: You have a good day now, okay?


O: Okay! Thank you! Bye!


Seriously, that is the first Owen conversation with a stranger that did not degerate into Owen just yelling "NO TALKING ME!" at them. It was a milestone, and Mommy made much of Owen and how nice he was to the nice girl, and how proud mommy was of his nice conversation all the way home. (There may also have been M&Ms involved. Nothing like a little positive re-inforcement!)


Jake is also very cute these days. He claps his hands. He waves, but in his own v-e-r-y subtle way. He holds up a hand, fingers splayed, and only waves the thumb. It took me a while to figure out that's what he was doing. Finally, I've actually been doing a small bit of sign language with Jake. One of the signs we do is for "nurse". (A presenter recommended teaching this sign instead of "milk"* when breastfeeding, so that baby doesn't get frustrated when they ask for "milk" once they are weaned and they no longer get the breast, but actual milk.)


The sign I learned for "nurse" is to brush your hand down your chest just above your breast (fingers held together, palm in towards you - picture it like brushing the milk down to your breast... um, from your shoulder, I suppose.) Anyway, Jake has started signing when he wants to nurse! Except, again, it took me a little bit to figure it out, because he doesn't brush so much as tap, and he doesn't do it to himself, he does it to me! He'll reach out and tap my chest, just where I do it when I'm signing. Clever monkey! And now even Steve knows that when he's holding Jake, and Jake starts pounding on his chest, it's time to hand him off to Mommy for something to eat. :)


* Squeezing your fist, reminscient of milking a cow. Another reason I'm not too keen on this sign for nursing! :)

Are You Kidding Me?

Jake is well. Owen is sick. Jake hasn't thrown up in over 24 hours, so I'm pretty sure he's on the mend. (Messy diapers continue, but those I can handle.) Owen, on the other hand, has spiked a mystery fever. Halfway through his swimming lesson tonight, he started shivering, and he had a terrible chill. By the time we got home and got him into bed, he was burning up. So, kiddie Tylenol ("the white kind, Mommy, not the cherry!") and lots of water, and hopefully he'll feel better in the morning. I guess he's not going to the babysitter tomorrow, regardless, which means I won't get in the naps I was counting on with Jake to start to recover from some missed sleep. Sigh. Such is life. Something pretty good must be just around the corner!!

Mystery Plague

Great return on me, hmmm? Well, I am just chock-full (is that hyphenated?) of excuses. Let's say that I had walking pneumonia (well, probably not, since it's clearing up without antibiotics, but how weird was it to roll over in bed and hear my lungs groan? Steve thought my stomach was always rumbling - it was my LUNGS creaking away! That's what I get for running with a cold. As of today, no more lung-grumbling, no more fatigue, lots of coughing, sounding worse and feeling better than I have in days.) So, lots of extra sleep every chance I had, not much time for writing. And then, Jake.

Hoo boy. He is the happiest sick kid ever, since well, Owen. Jake's been throwing up since Saturday night. That's right, Happy Valentine's Day, Mommy. (He made it himself. Ew.) I put him to bed, and a few hours later, heard his hungry cry. Went in to get him, and put my hand in a puddle when I went to pick him up - yuck! Poor babe - even had puke in his ear! He wasn't upset, until I turned on the light to change his pjs and sheet. (Poor Steve was sound asleep in Owen's room, I had to go in and wake him for his help.) A few hours later, same thing. And then on and off throughout the weekend. No fever, no other symptoms at all - still happy, still playing, still full of energy, just once in a while, when his tummy was full, bleah.

Jake's on solids now, but I hadn't introduced anything new this past week. He had rice cereal and peas/carrots mush for dinner on Saturday, again, nothing new, so I don't think it was food, but I haven't given him any more solids yet. He's been back to just breastfeeding, and as long as I keep the feeds small, he's fine. But when he eats a lot, he's sick. Because of no other symptoms, I didn't call the doctor's office until today. Yesterday he was only sick once, so I said that if he was through the night without getting sick, that would be it. Four o'clock in the morning, I go in to feed him, and am dozing in the rocking chair. I'm not paying attention to how much he's eating (I'm barely even aware that I'm in the room, actually) until he throws up all over me. Yuck.

Today I talked to the doctor's office. I really didn't want to take him in - he was keeping some breastmilk down, having lots of wet and dirty diapers, and really, except for the occasional episode of vomiting, was his normal, happy self. But I have that little voice that lurks in the back of every mom's head, telling me, What if it IS something? What if something turns out to be horribly wrong with the baby, and then I become that cautionary tale about the mom who's baby was throwing up for THREE DAYS and she never even thought to call the doctor....

Anyway, I'm glad I called, because I feel better. They were more than willing to see him right away today, but I decided to give him another 24 hours. Apparently there's a flu bug going around. Owen and I both had the flu shot - I am 100% positive that what I've had the past few days is NOT flu, and Owen's fine. Steve's fine too, no thanks to the flu shot, but I'm inclined to think this is what Jake has. And the doctor's assistant reminded me that the first time Owen was sick, he was perfectly happy too, except for the throwing up. (I remembered that, but it's nice that THEY remembered too!) Anyway, they're happy to see us tomorrow too if I call and need to come in, but Jake's been fine today (two runny, messy diapers, but that could be just being back on straight breastmilk again too). If he makes it through the night too, I'll feel relieved and like we're definitely over this. Cross your fingers for us!

p.s. Cautionary tale: Saturday during the day, before any sign of sickness, I was changing a diaper with a tiny poop inside. While I was changing him, Mr. Play-Doh Fun Factory decided to give a gift that kept on giving! He kept trying to poop on me, and let's say that I went through a clean diaper, a handful of wipes, and eventually just had to let the change pad catch the end of things. I told him that was the most disgusting thing he had done to me in his entire life. Less than 12 hours later the kid throws up on me. Make of that what you will.