holy night

This is definitely one quirky kid.  Not only does he give us a battle every. single. night. to drink his milk at dinner, but he refuses to take his bike helmet off most of the day, he prefers the worms to fishing, and he has somehow turned "Jesus Loves Me" into an everyday saying that kinds of resembles Tourette Syndrome.  My boy thinks that the song lyrics are "Jesus loves me, I know, Oh holy night."  Since we would laugh every time that he sang it, he started just saying, "holy night" at random times.  Then, we thought that was even more wierd so he doe it at least once or twice a day now at the most random yet hilarious times.  

1) As we went into the doctor's office to have my TB test read.  The nurse placed her hand on my arm and K. yells out "Holy Night".  The nurse jumped and then I'm not sure if she thought she should sign my paper or throw her hands up in praise. She opted to sign the paper.

2) We got walkie talkie's for our neighbor for her 6th birthday.  A. and K. had to check to see if they were working before wrapping them up.  A. says, "testing testing, 1 2 3"  K. pushes the button and yells "Holy Night" If they weren't working before, God put a special blessing on them then.

3) My aunt and uncle came in from OK on Mon night.  We took them out to dinner.  The waitress delivered our dinner and K. looks at his and yelled, "Holy night."   (when I say yelled, I mean every head in the restaurant turned) I guess it was his blessing of his and well, everyone's food. 

4) Cooley ran away yet again because we left the back gate open.  I went outside in my workout clothes to put something in the recycling bin and my neighbor yelled that the dog was down the street.  Great, I didn't want anyone to see me.  I go back inside to get the kids so we can start our search.  A. and I are yelling, "Cooley." and "Here boy."  My neighbor is driving in his car to search.  K. is yelling "Holy Night."  I guess it worked because a very dirty Cooley came home.    

I love that quirky kid!

the ologists

According to A., not only did we move to small town America 6 months ago, but she also got her degree in bugs, and animals, and dirt.  She now refers to herself as an ologist.  Sometimes it is a bugologist, sometimes more specific such as a ladybugologist, sometimes more broad and she is just an overall ologist.  Most things I should fact check her on, but she says them with such conviction that I really feel like she may be right.  For instance, did you know that Ladybugs tell their age by the number of spots on their back; ladybugs are nocturnal; lady bugs sit on your hand if they like you.  Did you know that every single ladybug like's A.

On this day, A. was a bunnyologist and a frogologist.  We have an egress window in our basement that until we got a large plastic cover, also doubled as a unfortunate cage for many unwanted visitors.  There was a frog and a bunny trapped together.  I don't know if they were more terrified being trapped or being rescued by a giant, 1 kid with a huge blue helmeted head, and one overly excited ologist.  But, A. shouted out directions for Daddy to get a huge bucket, Mommy to get a carrot, and K. to hop like a bunny/ frog so they wouldn't feel so alone.  Surprisingly, everyone followed their direction.  I mean, you wouldn't want to go against a person with all the talent and education that it takes to have multiple ologist titles.  

K. taking a bite of the carrot before throwing it down at a poor terrified bunny.

Could the poor thing try to camouflage itself anymore?

The ologist directing daddy to trap the bunny and frog.

Anyone want to touch the frog.

New facts from the experience
1. Bunny's move very fast when they are scared of giants, ologists, and helmet heads
2. Frogs pee on your hands so you should let your daddy hold it.

-- A., ologist, class of 2013

reviving izzy

A. has been into "doing hair" for a really long time.  The obsession has actually died down recently but she will still ask to play with my hair sometimes.  She used to like it so much that if I went to get my haircut without her, she would bring up her sadness repetitively for several days.  The hair dresser that used to cut my hair before we moved loved A. and would give her one of those freaky doll heads to play with the entire time she was there.  The stylist gave her different hair clips and even taught her to braid (well sort of).  So, for Christmas, Santa brought her a doll with a salon chair and hair accessories.  I wish that I had a picture but, well we moved 2 days after Christmas and I think my head wasn't in capturing the moment as it should have been.  Anyway, A. played with this doll for about 2 hours on the first day.  We were so excited that Santa had brought a winning gift.  Well, we got everything moved into our new house and Izzy did not return as a favorite toy.  Izzy was sitting in A.'s room with a plastic bag holding on her hair.  I asked her what on earth was happening and A. said, her hair was too tangled so she had to wear a babushka.  I have no idea where she got the idea but Izzy's hair was obviously not fit for public viewing.  We tried to brush it out a few times and it would finish with a broken hairbrush and a sad, angry little girl.  So, she would return to the corner with her punishment babushka on her head.  During my glorious 2 weeks at home with the kids, A. and I decided to attempt to revive Izzy again.  I did what every confused mother does and googled "tangled doll hair."  And of course, there were 78,300 results.  After sifting through the first few happy supermom blogs with obvious success, the consensus seemed to be a wire brush and soaking in fabric softner.  So, poor izzy no longer had a shameful babushka, she soaked head first in a bowl on our counter for 24 hours.

 24 hours of soaking and about 2 hours of intermittent brushing and I'm ad to say that I am not posting about my supermom status.  She was loosing hair by the fistful and the rest was not coming untangled. My wrist hurt and A. had given up after the first 3 minutes.  So, Izzy got a haircut.  We decided that if Izzy's hair wouldn't be fun for braiding and ponytails, the little stylist would get to use actual scissors.  So, Izzy now has short hair which surprisingly is pretty even.  A. had about 2 hours of entertainment, and now Izzy sits in the corner without a babushka.  Sorry, Santa, your gift wasn't the favorite afterall.  Better luck next year.

stay at home mom redemption

You may remember from my first hour as a stay at home mom, that things weren't going quite as planned.  However, I feel like my last morning (which happened to be a week ago now)showed some redemption.  We started to get the hang of things and get into a routine just when I had to go back to work.  Of course.

The kids actually slept in.  Well, they slept until 6:50. Then we cuddled in bed while we watched TV.  It was soo nice.  We headed down stairs and had some smoothies and then A. and I did an insanity workout.  That little girl was jumping higher and longer than any person on the video.  I'm pretty sure she could start earning some income as a back up insanity girl.  Maybe then I wouldn't have to go back to work.  Anyway, I digress.  We somehow managed to all get showered, K. included because the shower is oh so fun and he thinks it tickles, and then headed downstairs.  I had some chores to do and these 2 kiddos kept themselves entertained with painting for almost 1 hour.

It's a roller coaster.  Its her ploy for her to get us to take her to an amusement park

It's a dinosaur "ROAR"

I call it a parenting win for 1 day.  But, as I was writing this blog today, we had abt 20 minutes to go before karate.  In that 20 minutes while I tried to finish the blog about my day of success, we had a potty accident, Popsicle accident with red Popsicle on the carpet, and 2 kids to change.  Well, good days and bad days I guess...

sticker charts

We are fighting a case of the gimmies in our house.  I don't know if it is because we no longer have On Demand so commercials are now present in our house, if A. just goes to stores much less frequently, or if she sees us buying a lot of things for the house so she just wants everything.  Regardless, the entire time that we are in a store she says, "Can I have that?" or "Tiny really needs that."  I think I counted 22 times that I said "no" while we were in Homegoods the other day.  Yes, I said Homegoods, not Toys R Us or even Target.

So, we have combated with 2 different strategies.  1) the kindness counter -- A. drew 8 ways to be nice to people and then earned stickers when we "caught" her being nice.  One of her ways was to keep her hands to herself and not touch every single thing that she wanted.  Lets just say, it is the picture with only 1 sticker.  Combine her lack of success and my lack of follow through and we needed a new idea.

2) the money jar.  She picks 1 object at a time that she wants and then has to earn the money to pay for it.  1st, Tiny NEEDED some new toys.  Specifically, she needed a "boppy pillow just like real kids have so she can practice sitting up."  I found her a cervical pillow that fits her perfectly and A. earned $7.00 to pay for it.

Sorry, just a picture of Tiny obviously not yet sitting up in her boppy pillow.  She has to get a little older first.

Her next item is Stompeez.  If you're not familiar it's because they are a ridiculous thing that really doesn't ever need to be purchased. by. anyone.  They are slippers that when you walk ears flop up and down.  They cost $10.00.  My girl is washing cars, mopping floors, folding clothes, and cleaning her room just so that she can earn squishy, floppy eared slippers.  However, the gimmies are not curbed.  Now they have progressed to, "Can I get that to earn next."

Any other ideas?

time out

Timeout and K. do not mix.  It isn't that we haven't tried it, and we occasionally still use it, but he just doesn't respond to timeout.  Here's why

1) sometimes he weighs his options.  He will slowly walk up to A., hold his hand as if to hit her, pause, actively make the choice to hit her, and then put himself in timeout.  So, he obviously knows it is wrong and the reaction is worth the timeout.  We tried to tell her not to react because that's what he wants.  But, really, who doesn't react when they are being hit by a abnormally tall and strong 2 year old 

2) sometimes he just stays in timeout.  The other day I put him in timeout because he was running by the stove over and over while it was on.  So, he probably couldn't get hurt but still, running in the house isn't really something we encourage and running in front of a hot propane burner is definitely not encouraged.  After he sat for a minute, I went over to talk to him.  We did the usual, "why did mommy make you sit here."  He even gave me a good answer, "uummmm runnin hot."  ok, say you are sorry and get up.  nope.  He sat in the spot for 15 minutes.  We all sat down to eat.  We asked him to come to the table.  nope.  He just wanted to sit in that spot.  So, now what do I do, punish him for sitting in timeout too long.  

3) sometimes he plays timeout.   

A very bad tiger had just knocked over a poor innocent lion

He has his animals sit near each other and make obvious bad decisions like jump on each other or dive off of the train table.  They go one by one into timeout until everyone is sitting in one corner.  Then they all say sorry and come out only to do the same thing again.  I don't even know where to go with this.

So, any ideas.  Or should my abnormally tall and strong toddler also become an nonpunishable toddler.

perfecto

On Memorial Day, Gramps and Granny J, the kids, and I went strawberry picking.  I figured that there would be something pretty close by since we do now live in farm country.  But, we still had to drive 30 minutes.  30 minutes through farm after farm and tiny little towns that probably have a population of 400.  We got out of the car and Gramps said, "that was a nice leisurely drive through the country."  Oh how the country ages everyone. hehe

I was expecting picking to last about 15 minutes with the attention span of my children.  I was wrong. 

K. did run through and pluck about 20 strawberries, 15 were still green, and then head to the playground.  But, A. was very specific in her choices.  She lifted up leaves and checked under.  She only wanted the perfect strawberries without any green.  When she found one, she yelled, "Perfecto".  I did notice her take a bite of a few to remove the green. But, whatev.  

 K. came back after a little while to rejoin us.  But, he really just wanted to eat them.  Every strawberry he picked went directly into his mouth.

We were probably there for about an hour, the perfect amount of time to pick enough for strawberry shortcake and to top cereal, sit with Granny J. and make flower rings and necklaces, and play on the playground for awhile.   

Overall, I'd say it was a success!

funny funny guy

I think K.'s teachers are going to be calling us everyday because he will be loud and interrupting class.  He loves attention and he thinks he is soooo funny.  To me, his jokes are funny because 1) I am his mom and 2) I think knock knock jokes are funny. But, to the average person, he would be annoying.

K: Knock knock
Me: Who's there
K: Kabub
Me: Kaleb who
K: hi!

K. knock Knock
Me: Who's there
K: turkey
Me: turkey who
K: gobble gobble

Imagine that joke about 10 other times with different animals

K: knock knock
Me: who's there
K: orange
Me: orange who
K: yum

ok-- so as I'm writing them, they really aren't that funny.  But imagine if this face is telling you the joke

is it funny now?  How about if you hear them in the car, and at the dinner table, and in the afternoon, and in the morning, and outside, and inside.  Are they funny now?  Somehow, I still think that they are.  Must be a mother's love.

the first hour

Where have we been?  I don't really know exactly that we've been working and hanging out in our neighborhood and working some more.  But, as of yesterday, I have 2 glorious weeks of being a stay at home mom with full time daycare before I start my new job.  "Well, that sounds like the most cushy job ever", you say.  Well, here is how the start of my time as a stay at home mom started....

4:15- I turn in the last of my paperwork and everything to my old company.
5:10- pull into town and stop to buy a bottle of celebratory wine
5:29- pull up to pick up the kids that have to be in my presence by 5:30 or they turn into pumpkins
5:45- we are home sweet home to start our 2 week adventure.  We start to get settled.  I let the dog out and go to change my clothes since I no longer have to wear scrubs every waking minute of the day :)
5:50- I hear the "beep beep bee"p that is the alarm that one of the outside doors is opening.  I yell down to A. who says it was just that they let the dog inside.  I return to my task which has now included putting some laundry away so that I can find something nonscrubs to wear
5:52- I hear the "beep beep beep" again.  Again I yell down.  no answer.  WHAT?  I run down the stairs to find out my 2 year old has gone out the front door so that he can dig.  Not only is he gone, but the dog is now gone as well.  The dog is not just next door digging.  He is GONE...
5:58- I take K. inside and make him sit on the step so that I know where he is.  He is immediately crying because he wants to get up and because Cooley is gone.  I'm looking for some cheese because it usually makes the dog come running.  Problem is that B. and I have started the paleo diet so we don't really have cheese in the house anymore.  Dog treats will have to do but their scent is not nearly as strong.
6:05- A. rides her bike and K. is in the wagon.  We spend the next 20ish minutes walking to his most familiar spots yelling and carrying dog treats.  K. starts crying because he not only is missing his dog but he managed to poke his eye with the apparently sharp dog treat.
6:15- on our walk/ search, A. finds a turtle.  A tiny little turtle that in true A.style, she immediately falls in love with it.  She has named it Cooley 2 because well, obviously, we lost Cooley 1 so the name is up for grabs. I don't have the guts to tell her that she can't take it home and we can't find her dog so we put the dumb turtle in the wagon and take it home to the bug aquarium.
6:35- we return sans dog with turtle because everyone is hot, tired, and hungry only to find out that I did not defrost the chicken as I planned this morning.  So, its a free for all for dinner. I"m in the middle of assembling A. her choice of deli meat, frozen peas (not cooked), and chips- aka dinner of champions- when K. spills his milk all over the floor.  Pause to clean that up.  I give in.  It's juice for kids and wine for me.

Then, just when I am about to lose it because what kind of person manages to lose their son, their dog, their dinner, and their milk in a matter of 1 hour when my hero walks in the door.

This man pulled into the driveway after a 14 hour work day to save the day.  Both kids ran out to meet him.  Apparently, he whistled and then my husband, children, and a hot and tired Cooley came walking in the door.

 B. proceeded to marinate the meat for tomorrows dinner, clean the kitchen, set up a home for our overnight guest, and make popcorn for our Friday night ritual. I'd say his first hour was way more respectable than mine.  His answer, "you never want to start off with a birdie.  Then you wouldn't have room for improvement."