chipped tooth

A few days ago, I noticed The Boy had chipped his front left tooth. It was just a tiny chip, but a chip just the same, and I feel horrible that I don't know when or how it happened. It could have been anything, he throws himself around so much. I took solace in the fact that if I didn't know about the event, it couldn't have been too painful or that big of a deal. Thank goodness it's just his baby teeth anyways.

This evening, as I was washing The Babe's hair, The Boy was still in the bathroom hanging around. He used to be terribly afraid of the spray attachment we use when washing The Babe's hair, but he has recently become interested in it. While he would never allow the sprayer to be used for his own hair washing, he does like to watch and touch the spray as we use it on The Babe.

So, The Boy is standing outside of the tub while The Babe is sitting inside the tub and I turn my back for one millisecond as I reach for the shampoo bottle. I have no idea what actually happened, but there was a noise. Not just any noise, it was a thud, a dull noise, but still loud. I'm not making any sense, but it was a bad, bad, very bad noise. The Boy was crying. He somehow slipped while standing on a dry rug outside of the tub. He slipped and hit his mouth on the side of the tub, and guess what? He has chipped is front left tooth for real this time. Not just a small little chip, but a larger piece is missing. He kept saying "hit" and "Mommy, I felled" while he held his mouth and pointed to the tub.

10 minutes later he was still pretty shaken up about it, and I imagine something like that is pretty painful. I asked him if he wanted medicine to help make it stop hurting, and he nodded. For the first time ever, The Boy willingly took medicine. It must have been bad.

The good news is that he has chipped his tooth pretty evenly across the bottom of it. I am pretty sure that nobody would notice except for me, and I might not even have noticed if I hadn't been there. The new edge to his tooth is rough, though, and kind of sharp. Is this the kind of thing that will dull down if I feed him enough crackers? I guess it won't matter how rough or sharp the tooth is if it turns black and falls out. That's my big fear now. I'll have to keep an eye on it. Poor thing.

goodnight, john boy

Again with the sweetness. I just can't get enough.

Tonight, it was The Boy's turn to choose the bed time story, but we read it in The Babe's room. Tomorrow, we'll reverse it; that's the routine here.... So, tonight The Boy chose to read a Thomas book. The Babe was all tucked into her bed and The Boy sat in my lap as I read the book. When the chosen book for the night is finished, we always read Goodnight Moon, and The Boy will point out where the mouse is hiding on every page.

Once this ritual is finished, it's time to get The Kiddos into their respective beds and asleep. The Babe is already tucked in, so The Boy usually gives her a kiss on the cheek, which she reciprocates, and then it's off we go to get The Boy tucked into his own bed. I love that they give each other kisses, and tonight was no different - except for one small detail that melted my heart for no particular reason. In fact, it's such a small detail, I almost feel silly writing it down.

As we were leaving the room after the kisses, The Boy stops for a moment, turns around, and says "Goodnight, Dizzy".

It was the first time he had ever done that, and it was just so sweet.

sibling sweetness

Today was a bad day for The Boy. I'm not sure exactly what the problem was, but the whole day just went awry from the very start. Perhaps he really did wake up on the wrong side of the bed.

The Boy woke us this morning with his cries from downstairs. Daddy went to check on him (thank goodness it was Daddy's turn to wake up with the kids today). It turns out The Boy had bumped his head on the corner of the kitchen island. He is exactly the right height now, he will need to be more careful.

When I woke and joined the family, I put in a load of laundry, as I do each morning. I was able to convince The Boy that his green babies needed washing. The Boy has two "babies", his term for his security blankies, one green and one blue. I am very careful that only one baby is in the wash at a time. So, the green babies go into the wash, and we all head off to Costco. I should have known it would not go well when I couldn't find the blue babies to come with us. Daddy tells me it will be OK. He often leaves the house with The Boy and no babies, he tells me I'm more neurotic about the babies than The Boy is. Well, maybe that's true, so off we go.

Have you been to Costco ever? They have these cool carts that have space for two kids in the front part (you know, where kids normally sit in a shopping cart). So, The Babe and The Boy each get a spot. The Boy insists that I push the cart. He practically kicked his daddy out of there, shouting "No!!! Mommy push!". OK, that's not really a big deal, I'll push. About half way through the store, The Boy insists he wants to get out of the cart, so I stand him on the floor. Instant meltdown of gargantuan proportions. Now he won't get in the cart, he won't walk next to the cart, he's just standing there screaming. So, I left him there with his Daddy while The Babe and I got a boat load of Tide for only $10. Gotta love Costco. Come back, still screaming.

I actually had to take The Boy out of the store and sit with him in the car while Daddy and The Babe finished shopping. The Boy screamed the entire 15 minutes we were in the car. I felt bad for him, really I did, but he can't just throw a tantrum like that and get his way. We sat in the car, with him strapped in the seat, crying because he was "stuck". All this, and no babies. The poor kid is half crying about being stuck and half crying for his babies. *sigh*

We get home. I put the laundry into the dryer, so now green babies are half way done to being "nice clean" as The Boy says. I ask Daddy to find the blue babies to help calm The Boy down. Blue babies are found, and Daddy tosses them through the kitchen to the family room where The Boy is eagerly waiting, and the blue babies land right in a nice puddle of cat vomit. Lovely. So, now I have to put blue babies in the wash, and the green babies are still not done, and all The Boy wants in the whole world are his babies. Poor thing. Rough day, eh?

This is where it gets sweet, though, I bet you thought I'd never get there. I bet you forgot the title of this post already... The Babe is trying her best to make The Boy happy. She picks out his favorite movie "Look!" she says, "Let's watch Buzz!" She goes upstairs all on her own and comes back with the blue doggie that The Boy sleeps with each night. He's a little happier. She leaves him be, and goes to play in the living room. About 20 minutes later, she comes in with the Weeble Tree House that she has been playing with. The Boy perks up. "Toy, Mommy? Go play with toy?", and I told him that when The Babe was finished with her turn, he could have a turn. The Babe pipes up:

The Babe: But I already played with it in the other room.
Me: So, is it OK if he plays with it?
The Babe: I brought it for him.

Oh, she's so thoughtful. Now, The Boy gets down from the sofa, gives The Babe a hug, and plays with the tree house.

A few tantrums and rough spots later, it's bedtime. The Boy has a serious meltdown and is warned several times that if he doesn't calm down, we will have to put him to bed with no stories. This is a very serious punishment that has actually never been given out before. But, The Boy holds his ground, so we are forced to put him to bed with no stories. He screams and cries in his room the whole time Daddy and I are trying to act normal while we read stories to The Babe. Once I have The Babe tucked in, I go into The Boy's room to give him his hugs and sing his bedtime song, as usual. He's crying quietly now, and his tear stained face looks so sad. He looks right at me and says "See Dizzy, Mommy. See Dizzy." 'Dizzy' is what The Boy calls his sister. He wouldn't go to bed until I took him to The Babe's room so he could give her a kiss goodnight, like he does every night.

The Babe and The Boy obviously love each other very much, and I would take a hundred melt downs in exchange for just a few sweet moments like the ones I was priveledged to see today.

Now, let's just hope he wakes up on the right side of the bed tomorrow.

this is me

So.... whaddya think? Looks just like me, eh?

all on their own

Yesterday we went to a birthday party for our neighbor, Quinn. Quin turned 4 years old, and she had her party at a place called Gymquest. She takes gymnastics classes there, and thought it would be a fun place for her party. I think she was right!

Basically, after the parents each signed a waiver that pretty much said Gymquest won't be liable if their child is maimed or killed while at the facility, they all lined up and were led into a big room. Now, I thought this was gymnastics, I thought they would teach my children to tumble or something, but it was more of a fun-zone with gymnastics equipment.

There were two separate pits just filled with big soft foam squares. The kids could make a running jump off a spring board into the pit, or they could swing on a trapeze over the pit and then let go. Once in the pit, they could climb up a big rope all the way to the ceiling and then let go. They could also do tricks off the uneven bars, do a flip, and end up in the big pit of foam.

There were also trampoline floors installed around the room. If you weren't paying attention, you could really surprise yourself as you walked across the room. I've decided I would love to install a small trampoline floor in my kitchen, right in front of the sink. I think it would be nice to bounce and wash.

There was a HUGE double slide that is blown up by compressed air, you know the ones, like the big jumping houses you see at carnivals. The kids had to climb up a rock wall side to get to the top, and then they could slide down this huge slide.

There were also balance beams and horses and rings, standard gymnastics things, but as if the kids paid any attention to that.

So, the party goes like this: the parents sign the waiver and their kids troop into this humongous room where exactly one staff person keeps an eye on them all. The parents are supposed to go upstairs to the observation area and stay out of the way. But, because The Boy is not yet 3 years old, a parent was needed, so I got to go in and join the fun. The Babe ran off in a shot, and I didn't see her for a bit, nor was I worried. I spent my time bouncing with The Boy on the trampoline floor or just following him as he watched the bigger kids play. There were 24 kids at this party, ranging in age from 1.5 years - 7 years old.

The Babe finds me and she wants help climbing up the rock wall so she can go down the slide. I look up, and I see that all her friends are already at the top, no help needed, some of them are smaller and younger than her. I know The Babe can do this, but she has confidence issues. I want her to do it all on her own, so I tell her I can't help her. I felt bad about this, but it's actually true, because The Boy was wading through the foam pit, and if I left him, he might disappear into the abyss forever. Seriously, I was in there once to fish him out, I couldn't feel the bottom... maybe it's foam all the way to China, and if I left him, he'd sink all the way down... I'm sure some nice Chinese family would take him in, but that doesn't change the fact that I'd miss him if he were gone. So, I can't help The Babe right then, for fear of losing The Boy. She looks very sad and disappointed and she wanders off.

But, I'm watching her, and she tries with much determination and makes it to the top! All on her own! You should have seen her glowing up there, knowing that she could do it herself! I was very proud, and The Boy and I clapped and waved and cheered her as she slid down the slide. Of course, now The Boy wants to try this, too. *sigh*

Honestly, though, he only needed a little help, and he was off to the top, too! By the end of the party, he could climb all the way up all on his own, and both kids say it was their favorite part of the party.

Mine, too.

going potty and getting dressed

Wow. It's been a long time since I've written. Sorry about that! I guess life got in the way there for a bit...

Well, let me tell you about my naked children. Please don't be scared, this is innocent nakedness at it's best.

The Boy has recently decided to give potty training a go. He calls tinkling "making fountains", and he will inform you when he has a fountain ready to break through. We have time to quickly take off his diaper and he will go to the training potty to make his fountain there. It's cute, and he gets really smiley and happy when we clap and cheer and make a big deal of it.

The only problem is that he won't get dressed again afterwards. He just spends the rest of the day completely nude as he runs around the house. This hasn't been so bad, because he knows when he needs to make a fountain and he goes back to the potty. I am concerned about what might happen if he needs to poop. We haven't crossed that bridge yet.

Yesterday I bought The Boy some underwear, thinking he might wear that around the house. I got him the boy brief kind, that are a cross of tighty whiteys and shorts. OMG, he looks so CUTE in them, and he really loves them. The problem now is that he doesn't understand that these new underwear don't have the absorbancy capabilities that a diaper has. He doesn't go make a fountain in the potty, he just wets his pants. We went through 4 pairs yesterday in the span of about 3 hours. I guess we're back to being naked.

Now, on to The Babe. The Babe has recently begun to enjoy getting herself dressed. All by herself. She'll decide what she wants to wear, and for the most part, make it happen. The funny part comes when she gives up half way. Oh, and let me tell you, some of the outfits she picks out are killer.

A couple of weeks ago, The Babe woke me in my bed to get help getting her pajama shirt off. The funny part was that she had already taken the bottoms off, so she wakes me, and the first thing I see is her naked tush. I tried not to laugh, but I must admit, I wasn't expecting that.

Today I came downstairs and The Babe was just completely nude, lying on the floor, under a blanket watching Blue's Clues. She wanted off with her jams, but wasn't so much ready to get dressed either.

So, right now I have two completely naked children. At least the weather's warm, right?

his first kegger

OK, not really. I don't want to get hit with a bunch of comments on how I let The Boy go to a kegger and he's only 2 years old. LOL, as if I ever get any comments.... still giggling... phew! ok, I'm done.

Moving on....

Today, The Babe, The Boy, and I were outside in the front yard. We go out through the garage so that we can pull out all the bicycles, big wheels, roller skates, bubble machines, etc., that are stored in the garage on our way out. We were having a pretty good time playing with bubbles and riding bicycles down the driveway.

There are lots of things stored in the garage besides the above mentioned toys. There is a car (*sigh*, there used to be two cars...), there is a lawnmower, there are many tools of all kinds, and there are various things that we may have recently bought at Costco that don't really have a permanent home, such as bottled water and cans of beer that haven't yet been needed.

Well, The Boy walks up to me with a can of Bud Light in his hand, and he says "Daddy's beer?", and it was cute. So, I tell him yes, that's daddy's beer, but daddy usually drinks it cold. My intention was to get The Boy to put the beer down and go do something else, but looking back I can see where he may have gotten confused. The Boy takes what I say to mean that he should put that beer in the refridgerator. He tells me in his own little language that this is what he intends to do. I figure, OK, what the hell. Put the beer in the fridge. whatever.

The Boy finds this to be a very amusing game, and he comes out of the house two more times to collect another can of beer to put in the fridge for daddy. And then I hear him crying inside the house. Not just a regular cry, but really crying.

I find The Boy in the foyer, holding his head and just sobbing. He's saying "fall, fall, head" over and over. I look up and I can see the fridge is open. I walk over to find a beer can on the floor, and another perched very precariously on a shelf that I am surprised The Boy could reach. OMG! The realization hits me. A beer had fallen off that high shelf and knocked The Boy in the head!

It gets worse. He saw it coming. The welt that he has right between his eyes told me so.

Oh! my poor boy.

Although I figure it won't be the last time The Boy gets knocked between the eyes with a full can of beer. Isn't that what college is for?

"red car broken!"

Over and over again, every single day... that's what The Boy says. "Red car broken, mommy, daddy's car broken. Drive mommy's car, red car broken, red car broken, red car broken.... "

Early Friday morning, 16 June, my husband was in a car accident on the way home from work while driving his treasured cherry red 1992 Mazda Miata rag top convertible. Dear Husband is fine, thank goodness, but the car is totalled. It only had 40,000 miles on it, and we still walk around in utter disbelief that the car is gone.

We've dealt with the insurance and the legal rigamarole, and we'd like to be done with it, forget it, move on. It's depressing, we'd like to be in denial and just pretend it never happened, just act like we never had that adorable car that was so fun to drive.

Except.... there's The Boy.

Every time someone goes near the garage door, he mentions the red car. If we are running an errand, The Boy has to bring it up. If he sees a car on TV, or hears a car in the street, it's "red car broken, red car broken" over and over again. It's funny, because it's not as though either of the kids ever even sat in the Miata, much less went for a ride in it; but The Boy is obsessed.

"Red car broken. Drive Mommy's silver car. Red car broken, Daddy's car broken."

Thanks, buddy, thanks for the reminder. *sigh*