Fast Learner

Tonight as Turbo announced to Dad that he had to poop, the immediate next sentence was as follows, unedited.

"What can I eat and what can I watch?"

Hand Me Downs

We love hand-me-down clothes!

Kids grow out of clothes so fast, especially in the first year, and there is no way to wear out all the clothes we assembled from loving friends and family. I love it when I have someone to share Smiley's or Turbo's outgrown clothes with. There are a few moms that I pass clothes down to, but my favorite trading partner is Melanie, because we send the same clothes (and some new ones) back and forth to each other several times. You can't beat that for practicality. Thanks, Mel!

Smiley is picking out her next day's outfit. She's very selective.

This good-looking pile of threads is from a new mom friend at Smiley's daycare. Her little darling is younger than Smiley and when I mentioned we that seemed to be out of a few key pieces, she brought these adorable clothes to the daycare the very next day. This photo was taken so that I can remember which clothes need to go back to her daughter. Clever, eh?

I do have to say, though, that once Turbo hit 18 months old - wearing 24-month clothes, btw - his pace slowed considerably. Not because he stopped growing, but because he started running everywhere and all the time, and sometimes forgot to eat. He grew taller and has thinned out. Most of his clothes these days are 3T, some even 4T. Big kiddo!

Goodwill is also a great place for kid clothes - except for pajamas. My theory is that kids wear those longer and do wear them out, so there are fewer to go around - either that, or parents are too embarrassed to donate clothes with poopy blowout histories. :)

Time Check

I know exactly how long it takes me to run through a bottle of vanilla extract: 2 years.

My sister got married around 2 years ago, and brought me back this yummy bottle o' vanilla from her honeymoon in Mexico. I probably don't bake as much as I did before having kids, but my current pace appears to be 1 bottle = 2 years.

Turbo starts a new school this week, and I wanted to bake some goodies to show my affection and deep appreciation for his wonderful teachers. Turbo has been with his current teacher for an entire year, and we really lucked out. This woman is patient and dear and the perfect match for how long it took Turbo to potty train. We will miss you, Miss Aura!!

Tonight I made a double batch of fudge brownies (from Better Homes and Garden, page 124) and I had exactly 2 teaspoons left, both of which were needed and lovingly dumped into the vat of chocolate-y goo that will soon be cooled and cut into squares for Turbo's teachers and his school staff. We're changing schools now too, since Turbo is going into preschool.

He's going to be smarter than me very, very soon. I can feel it.

The 5:33 Wake-Up Call

My daughter is a good sleeper. For that I am grateful on a daily basis. After going through a rough year and a half with my son, I know the good stuff when I see it.

I say that so this next comment doesn't come across as a complaint.

She wakes up at the same time every morning. Pretty much on the dot. I hear a few babbling sounds on the monitor close to my bed, always relieved when they are happy sounds - crying means it's in the middle of the night - and so I know it's time to wake.

I give it a few minutes, then check the clock: 5:33 AM.

I bring her to bed with me, where she 'reads' books or animal flash cards. What I am most happy about is that we get to cuddle with these flash cards, in a warm bed mind you, for a good 20 to 30 minutes. This gives a tired mama a little time to adjust to the dawning of a new day.

When she starts throwing the flash cards overboard, it's time to get moving.

I love this gentle morning wake ups, even if it is really, really early.

Evacuation Complete

With apologies to my sister who will cringe at this topic...

You know you're nearing potty training completion when your child flees from the bathtub to go poop, then returns to the tub to keep playing.

It's so much better than a few yuck-o experiences we've had along the way. :)

Name Is Guy

This guy's name is Guy. Let me explain.

Found buried in our yard. Dinosaur is just here for color. :)

Turbo and I went to get the mail the other day. We walked our usual walk, down the driveway, looked for cars, crossed the street, etc.

On the return trip we want a little crazy. OK, not really crazy, but I'm trying to be dramatic here. Instead of returning via the driveway, we took a small detour through our front garden area.

Oh, the magic of wandering off the beaten path.

The above action figure was sticking out of the dirt in our recently weeded flower bed and I had to look twice before I could believe that an actual tiny face was staring up at me.

"Turbo! Come look!"

He hurriedly came to my side and gasped dramatically, "What's that?"

"It's a little man," I said.

"Oooh. Can I play with him?"

So we bring him inside to clean him off a little, all the while I'm trying to balance being a safe mom and a fun mom (how swallow-able is this dude or his little parts? it's been in the ground for how long? This could be a really fun discovery... etc.). As the little action figure is soaking in some sudsy water, Turbo decides to let Daddy in on our cool discovery.

Turbo, "Dad. Look!"

Dad: "Cool. Who is that, Turbo?"

Turbo: "It's a guy."

Dad: "What's his name?"

Turbo pauses thoughtfully. Then, "Name is Guy."

The Two Step

Smiley is almost walking! Have I mentioned that before? We're very excited and so proud of her.

Today is Sunday and I had to go into the office for most of the day. We're having gorgeous weather here, it's almost 90 degrees out and sunny, so you can imagine how excited I was to be stuck in an office. I confess, for every bio break today, I also did a lap around the soccer fields. Come to mama, Vitamin D!

While I was at work, making the most of my situation and making some good progress on a few important tasks, I had this momentary fear that this would be the day she started walking. And that I would miss it.

Denial. Anger. Acceptance. I went through all that pretty quickly and was able to shrug it off. These things happen, and while it would be a bummer to miss it, it's not the end of my world.

When I got home, all the chaos of mommy finally arriving, and daddy's relieved look, and Smiley hollering for me, and Turbo showing me his black eye (more on that later), I sort of forgot about my premonition that we'd see some kind of milestone today.

And then... ta dum! We were in the kitchen and Smiley was laughing and playing and then she stood up on her own (she did that twice yesterday too). She sort of bopped up and down in a kind of dance and gave me a quizzical look like, "Hey, I'm not falling on my butt." Then she smiled.

I backed away from her quickly and beckoned her to come, "C'mon, baby! C'mere!" And held my hands just out of her hands' reach.

She took a step!

And smiled.

And took another step!

And smiled again as she threw herself on mama and was smothered in kisses.

I didn't miss it. It wasn't full-on walking, but it was awesome to see that look on her face. That's why I didn't want to miss this. Now I know it'll be OK if she takes a lot more steps at daycare, or with daddy, or in her crib at 3 AM, because I saw those first surprised looks on her face and that is all I needed.

The rest is up to her.

Sweet Little Lies

There is a scene in Sleepless in Seattle where Meg Ryan is on a plane sitting next to one of the Ephron sisters (the screenwriters), and So-and-So Ephron observes that Meg's character looks anguished over something.

Ephron says, "Don't you hate flying?" To which Meg replies, "Yes, and I just told the most awful one to the man I'm about to marry. Do you think any lie is a betrayal?"

I'm contemplating this question as I realize I'm in a pattern of telling Turbo little white lies. I believe they are all for the greater good, usually for better sleep, and yet I think part of me does feel a little guilty. Or maybe not. I'm sure it's not the last time I'll have to fib to my kids. They don't get to know all the secrets this young, do they? Santa, anyone?

For example, the lie I seem to be saying these days is, "I'll be right back." It goes a little something like this.

Middle of the night cries from Turbo, "Mommyyyyyyyyyyy. Mommyyyyyyyyy!"

I quietly enter Turbo's room (which he shares with Smiley, by the way... tricky), and soothe him back to  what I think is full-on sleep and as I'm trying to creep slowing out of the room, he cries out again, "Mommyyyy. Come my bed."

Now, I could repeat all my magical soothing work, which I've done countless times over the nearly 3 years he's been in our lives, but instead I tiptoe back to his bed, lean down to kiss him, smooth the wispy hair from his forehead and whisper:

"Mommy has to go potty, Turbo. I'll be right back."

or

"Mommy has to take out her contacts. I'll be right back. You wait here."

And it works pretty much every time. He believes I'm coming back, so it settles him and I don't have to stick around for the (potentially) really long haul where I sometimes fall asleep myself in an uncomfortable, squashed-in-a-twin-bed position.

But, luckily, he's a great sleeper now so this doesn't even happen that often. I wish I could go back to the mom I was when Turbo was 8 months old and reassure myself that his awful sleep habits would not last. Sometimes I miss those late night snuggles with 8-month-old Turbo.

Luckily, I have another one. And she's a great snuggle buddy.

Who Bite This?

Gourmet meal tonight, frozen pizza. But in my defense, it's been a rough week and it was Paul Newman's yummy pepperoni pizza. Nom, nom, nom.

Turbo did his typical trick of sitting down with us, taking one bite and announcing, "I'll be right back," and before I could finish chewing my food to say something parental, such as, "Hey, young man, please come finish your dinner," he's already deep into dramatic play in the next room. At least he's visible from the kitchen table, so i'm kind of parenting, right?

Turbo had 1 slice of pizza on his plate, cut down the middle for 2 smaller slices. He had taken one nibble out of one and left the other untouched.

I was trying not to eat too much pizza, so I stopped at 2 pieces. But then, hmm, Turbo's slices were just sitting there... so I grabbed one and bit off the yummy point.

My husband said, "He's gonna freak out, you know."

Me: "Oh, please."

A few minutes later, Turbo decided to grace us with his preschool presence and picked up his pizza (the one I stole from; eek!) and started to take a bite and then pulled it back out of his mouth to study it.

After a short pause, he said, "Who bite this?" and then he looked suspiciously back and forth between my husband and me.

Gulp. To lie or not to lie here.

Me: "I did. I took a bite."

And then he gave me this look, while advancing on the slice for his own bite, as if to say, "I can see I'm gonna have to keep an eye on you."

Totally busted!

Love Songs to Children

I've come to believe that most love songs are written from a mother to her children. With a few lusty exceptions, most love songs apply. Love is love, and I have never experienced so much love as I have for my babies.

"I want to hold you 'til the fear in me subsides" - works perfectly for a mom heading back to work after enjoying maternity leave.

"You're just too good to be true; can't take my eyes off of you." - when my daughter was first born, it was nearly impossible for me to stop staring at her. Same thing with my son, but I think knowing we were only going to have 2 kids, made me stare longer and more intensely at baby #2.

"It must be is love, love, love." by Madness. Yes, with madness we love our babies.

"Whenever two or more of you are gathered in His name, there is love."

I could go on, and on, and on.


Edit: I woke up this morning realizing all my song choices were very dated. So in keeping with that theme, I will entertain you with another beauty...  with a South Park twist. :)

"Lovin' you is easy cuz you're beautiful. Do-do-do'n-do-dooo... Aaa-aa-aa-aa-aa."

Special Treat

We've been giving Turbo 'special treats' - and calling them that - for every BM in the potty. There have been a few other times we've awarded him 'special treats' too, and they are usually some TV time or M&Ms. It's not too terribly often we pull these out, but often enough.

Btw, I've been trying to figure out the best way to wean Turbo off of any rewards for potty training. I think he might actually be there, but I need a plan. Any ideas?

So, last night I'm giving Turbo a bath and he announces he wants his "5 chocolates and 5 marshmallows," which usually means he needs to poo. Since it's so close to bedtime, I tell him that we can't have chocolates after bath. This is how the rest of that conversation goes.

Turbo: "But I need a special treat."

Me: "Well, I'll give you hugs and kisses as a special treat."

Turbo: "No. That's not a special treat."

Thanks a lot, kiddo. LOL.

Boy Genius

This is one of my favorite t-shirts. It's also one of the most comfy shirts I own, so I tend to wear it a lot around the house.

Tonight Turbo let me know that his reading skills are coming along. He pointed to each word and read aloud, one word at a time:

"Turbo. Poop. Pee."

I've never been more proud.

Be Patient, Mom

Homemade chili for dinner tonight, with cornbread muffins. Yum! A shout out to my own mom for the outstanding recipe. You gotta love a soup recipe that calls for a little red wine.

Turbo, ever unadventurous when it comes to food (yawn), would only eat the corn muffins. He also pulled one of his in and out of the kitchen routines, where he eats a few bites, leaves to go play with toys, returns for another couple of bites. We don't usually let this go on too long, but I was happy to have an adult conversation with my husband tonight, so it was kind of helpful to have Turbo in the other room.

The third time Turbo tried to exit the dinner table, I finally said, "Hold up there, pal. Are you going to finish your dinner?"

Turbo: "Yes. I'm going to eat my muffin and my milk and my other muffin. You can eat the chili."

Me: "You need to come eat your food, or I'm going to clean it up."

Turbo: "In a moment, mom."

[pause to play with a toy]

"Be patient."

8 Hours of Sleep

I always laugh when I read health articles about the importance of getting 8 hours of sleep. Most of them (dare I say 'all'?) tell you that you need to get 8 hours, and if you're not getting 8 hours then you need to adjust your priorities so that you can get your full 8 hours of sleep each night. Oh, and sleep more on weekends if you can't get 8 each weeknight, so as to refill your sleep deficit.

Oh, really.

Hey, Turbo and Smiley, there are some Cheerios in the cupboard and milk is in the fridge. Banana on the kitchen counter, if you can reach it. Mama's sleepin' in.

But, seriously, I do agree that sleep is really important. It was never more clear to me than when I was feeding a newborn round the clock. You stumble, you hurt, your eyes sting. You struggle for words when you speak to your friends and family. You say, "bring me the ketchup," when what you really mean is, "hand me the baby."

Yep. Sleep, good uninterrupted sleep, fixes a lot of little gaps in my daily skill set.

I only wish some of these health articles would come with some sort of warning label: "Warning: Does not apply to you if you are pregnant, or have children in your house. You may skip this article and move on to watching more birth-without-pain videos, or more online episodes of the Backyardigans."

But last night... ahh... 8 hours, baby!

Thank you, Smiley. Thank you, Turbo. Mama likes sleep.

Let's hope I'm as lucky tonight. I got Zumba tomorrow and I loves me some Zumba. Zumba requires sleep.

Smiley Update

It hardly seems fair to my little darling Smiley baby girl that I write so much more about her brother than I do about her. But let's just say that I have given my kids both incredibly accurate nicknames on this blog.

Smiley is doing great. She is almost walking and not even 11 months old. Turbo walked around 13 months, on Thanksgiving day. He was in no hurry back then, but now... well, that's a different story. Smiley is much faster at all the physical stuff.

And she is sooo sweet and sooo much fun to cuddle with.

She goes to sleep around 6 PM and wakes around 5 AM. And pretty much sleeps through the night. I don't know what I did to deserve such a good sleeper. It's during these sleep hours that we get a lot of Turbo blog-worthy activity.

I'm about to head to bed now, so that I am as rested as I can be when she starts "babababa-ing" in her crib in the morning, summoning me from my dreamy state. I can't wait to bring her into my bed and let her quietly wake up as she babbles and snacks on her toys.

I love you, Smiley. See you in our dreams.
Mama

Cupcakes For Dinner

Cupcakes For Dinner!
Cupcakes For Dinner!

Turbo has been asking to go to "the cupcake store" all week. Dad finally gave in and, boy, is this house happy. Or, maybe it's just a sugar high.

The last time my two guys made this trek was for my birthday a couple of months ago. At that time it was raining, pouring really, with lightning and thunder. You can see how that might make an impression on a kid. Dad reports when they arrived tonight after school, Turbo asked if they were going to see thunder. Good memory, kiddo!

At daycare today, Turbo talked about the cupcake store all day long. As he was eating snacks with his pals he said, "I'm going to have cupcakes for dinner." Oh, what his teachers must think of us parents.

We got him to down some mac & cheese (in which I cleverly hid some pureed carrots. Ha! Take that, Turbo), and then we settled into the important business of choosing which cupcake we got to each.

Now, when I say 'choose' you probably know what actually went down. If you've been reading about Turbo, you know he likes to give directions, so Dad and Mom didn't get to choose anything.

We were assigned cupcakes.

Luckily, they were all delicious and Turbo ate only the frosting.. of my mint/chocolate cupcake, thankyouverymuch. But I snuck a couple of hearty bites in anyway.

After dinner, I sent the boys into the backyard to run, run, run.

My poor husband nearly got a side ache from running after so much sugar, but Turbo took to it like he was born to eat cupcakes and run.

Tomorrow we shall run some more and eat nothing but raw vegetables and lean boiled chicken, right?

I Have No Poker Face For That

Last night's dinner was Sloppy Joe's. I served it open-face atop garlic-dusted, toasted kaiser rolls, with a side of steamed carrots. A pretty tasty meal, my husband and I thought.

But Turbo was a little suspicious and wouldn't touch it. I decided to risk a new parenting maneuver (new for me, at least) in not letting him leave the table until he took one bite. I knew he wouldn't eat the carrots, so we put two forkfuls in front of him - one with sloppy joe + carrots, and one with just sloppy joe fixins. He picked the one we expected, and we thought we solved the problem.

A lot (and I mean, a LOT) of back and forth and delay tactics later, Turbo finally realized I was serious and picked up the fork.

He stared at the sloppy joe mixture and seemed to be contemplating something profound. We leaned in to hear the oracle speak. Turbo pointed at the food on the fork, and at that moment I heard the words that no cook wants to hear:

"No! This is poop!"

He said what?!? My husband and I burst into uncontrollable laughter. There is no way to keep a straight face for something that funny and unexpected.


Lesson learned: Maybe spend a little less time talking about the potty.