2Y92D: Loading...Loading...Loading...

My children are 100% apart of the digital era.

At two, he can navigate both my phone and my kindle better than I.  He may not know what he's doing, but he can surely find what he's looking for in the games videos, Netflix, or sadly, Youtube.

A shameless plug for my favorite program for Android devices is Kids Place I can choose which games or apps he is allowed to have access to and he cannot watch or play anything else. Also, it does not allow any in app purchasing.  For my Kindle Fire, it's invaluable (and free!)

I'm guilty here, when times get rough and I have run out of steam, I encourage the watching of videos.  I'd rather him watch the nasty purple dinosaur than tear apart his room again looking for one specific car.  I'd rather him watch those annoying twin babies who talk to each other than climb on the table...again.

I feel badly about it, but I perpetuate the behavior and I'm 60% okay with it.

Odds are against my kids that they will ever use a manual typewriter, a rotary phone, or have to turn a dial to change the channels on the black and white TV.  However, since both my husband and I are closely entwined with the theatre world he just might see or be able to use one of the above if it is needed as a prop in a show.

With all digital media, there is a period where content is "loading."  Each day and into the future, the amount of "loading" time will undoubtedly decrease. For now, the "loading" bar is present in his everyday life.

This brings me to the point of today's post.  Daniel equates "loading" with "waiting patiently."

My husband leaves the house pretty early in the morning most days, and has a sweet verbal exchange with Big D.  Just recently that ritual no longer includes tears, thankfully.

"Bu-bye, see you soon!!" Daddy says to Daniel.
"Bu-bye, see you soon!" Daniel says to Daddy.
"Bu-bye, see you soon!!" Daddy says to Daniel.
"Bu-bye, see you soon!" Daniel says to Daddy.
They exchange kisses and Daddy leaves.

Daniel runs to the living room window, steps up on his stool, looks out the window and knocks on the glass.  They exchange waves. and another round of  "bubye's"

Today, Brian took the trash out back to the bins.  It took a little longer for him to show up in front of the house.

While standing on his stool looking out the window, Daniel was repeating over and over:
"Loading....Loading Daddy....Loading...Daddy"

That is a perfect example of children born in this age, ( with parents who allow it, of course). If you can find a better one, (without giving me a hard time about letting my kids use these devices) I'd love to hear it.

2Y90D: I love you SOOOO much!

Amelia was born when Daniel was only 17 months old.

He didn't know mommy was pregnant.  He didn't know his world was about to get a lot louder.  He certainly didn't know he was about to become a big brother.

All he knew was that mommy had a new pillow for him to rest on.

When #2 finally came home, Big D. wasn't exactly sure what to do with her, he was still just a baby himself.  Jealousy didn't play a large role when vying  for attention, we did a remarkable job in that department ( two gold stars for us!) 

However, the only thing he did take ownership of was the changing table - she could not be on it without Daniel trying to pull her off - that was a fun phase.

Now that Amelia is 7 months old, things are a bit different.  Thankfully, he doesn't remember a time without her, but he is becoming more and more possessive of toys/laps/chairs etc.  Anyplace we try to put A. down D. wants to be; the excersaucer, mommy's lap, the Bumbo, her crib...even the floor.  He wants to be there, and he doesn't want her there.  Perhaps because he thinks it's his, or rather he wants to show her how to use it/sit in it.

Please don't read this and think, "Oh no, he doesn't like her!" because that is not the case.  He loves her so much.

He loves her so much he must be next to her.

He loves her so much, he snatches her "binky" away so that she will smile at him when he tries to make her laugh, then pile all of her toys onto her...she must be bored.

He loves her so much he wants to be in the same jumpy toy that she is in. ( No Pictures of that since , time was important in saving A from being crushed)

He loves her so much he wants to have pillow fights with her like daddy does with him.  She doesn't fight back...

Yet.

And today, perhaps he wanted to give her a back rub?  Who knows.  But he climbed into the chair with her and tried to push her out.

I have enough trouble with two kids.  I have no idea, absolutely no idea how moms survive with more than two this close together.  I love these little balls of energy more than anything, but man, this is by far the hardest job I've ever done.  I challenge anyone who says that being a mother is easy to spend a day in my socks...

...I don't wear shoes at home.

The day before the Snow

If you're new here, you've not taken the trip with me down the Road of Lost Keys.

There is a new installment on that road as well. To be posted soon.

For now I enter a new realm of wireless interfacing... The Phone Zone. Yes, from my /new to me/ fancy smartphone aka iPhone 3GS I can post in this, my fancy blog... My own Blog Zone.

Though editing capabilities are limited ( to only my limited knowledge) I'll take a peek tomorrow. Any feedback is helpful.

So, today was another unseasonably warm winter day. I'm calling it "2012, the Winter that wasn't"

After another tear filled 20 minutes at the YMCA (will these children ever smile without me in the room????) I decided it was too nice to stay inside. I surprised Daniel and took him to the local regional airport. Only a couple of flights took off and even fewer landed. Still we had a blast... Off!

2Y83D: Hitting

Football players do it on the ass.

Baseball players do it with wood.

Musicians long for one.

But in our house, you in time out...

...if you hit.

And Big D. has been in time out multiple times a day.  He hits me.  He hits daddy.  He hits the cat.  He hits the baby.  He hits his friends.  He even hits himself.

I don't know what to do.

To make things even more irritating, he hits, says "no hitting" then goes in for a hug...  I just can't stop the initial action.

Where does he get the idea from?  We don't hit him.  We don't hit each other.  I don't get it!

Thankfully he doesn't bite.

I'd love for this to be a post on "how to stop your kid from hitting," but alas, no, it's the opposite.

We encourage the positive, "kisses for Cotter-Pin" ( our cat) "Amelia love big-big hugs, big hugs are the best!"

It doesn't help.

This has got to stop, and I don't know how to start.

Suggestions on this one are appreciated.

If he grows up to be a ball player, or a musician, it might be appropriate.  For now, at 2, I'm at a loss.

2Y77-81D: A Nose, Toes, and Spaghetti O's.

OK, it's not just one nose, it's all the noses.  Why won't they stop running?

If this were Athens, we'd all be superstar marathoners...you know, if noses could run.

Oh wait...they do.

A lot.

Why aren't there good cold drugs for little ones?  It's just so pathetic trying to keep their noses clear, and the worry I feel listening to Amelia breathe is unsettling.

I suppose when you don't feel well, you just want to be held...

In other news, Big D. has learned how to jump off the couch.

He jumps off the couch and lands on the floor which is made out of crappy plywood.  I can hear the guy who lives below me, and certainly he can hear the THUD this is D's feet hitting the floor.

"Again," he says. "Good job!" he yells. "Big Big Jump, YAY!" 

Yes, he's so proud of himself.

He also falls down onto his knees from a standing position.  Yesterday he did it right in front of me.

Right in front of me and onto my toe.

It's a lovely purple color, like a little grape toe.

But not as tasty as a grape.

Wow, I really want some grapes right now.

I've mentioned before, my son is a terrible eater.  When he isn't sick, he eats what all kids prefer to eat;
pizza, chicken nuggets, carrots, and fries.  It gets even worse when he doesn't feel well.

When sick, like he is now, he can't seem to keep anything down.

He lives on pediasure.  We call it "sweet milk" but at least he is getting some calories and vitamins and minerals.

Then we try to let him eat while watching his favorite movie, thinking, just maybe, he'll get distracted and eat...

...wasn't a good idea in retrospect.

Lastly, I was cleaning ( as I do all the time) I found one of each of their shoes; dad's, Daniel's, and A's.  Aren't they cute??

Well, I have some time to sleep before one of the kids wakes up, I should take advantage of it...

2Y76D: When they get sick...

I'm picking up the toys again.

I'm gathering the cars, the trucks, the puzzle pieces and toys, and putting them away again.  I will do this everyday until I can insist he does it himself, and then, I might still have to do it.

I'm cleaning up from yet another dinner he refused to eat, this is starting to concern me.  He can't live on Pediasure and pancakes, can he?

And once I've just about completed these tasks, I sit with my husband...for all of three minutes.

I sit with my husband; when out from the bedroom we hear, a pained cry from Daniel.  A quick exchange of glances as if "you? me?" but the cry is a pained cry and of course I rush in.

I rush in,  in time to rock the poor lad, rock him as he cries in my arms.  And he coughs and he coughs, and them pukes all abound. 

I whisk him up quickly ( thinking I really don't want to clean puke off the rug) and bring him to the kitchen (just out of his door) we sit on the floor, still rocking, the poor thing.  More puke...this is fun.

You know, as I'm writing this I have "Twas the Night Before Christmas" stuck in my head and I'm trying very hard to not to rhyme each of these lines.

Guess who then wakes wakes up?  Now, in chorus they cry together, albeit quite an inharmonious duet.

Anyway, details aside, we clean him up and start the wash.  He is now sleeping in our bed, and I have towels all over, just in case...


The point here, the real meat and potatoes, is this: when times get rough, tough or scary, a  parent will click into rescue mode - I say this like I think I'm a good parent, I don't really think that, but I'm good under pressure.

Kids get sick, they always will.  They get hurt, bumped, scratched, and bruised, and that will happen everyday in one form or another.  You can't plan for it, you can't prepare, and there is no guideline as to how to react to reach whatever goal you may have:
 - contain the puke
 - stop the bleeding
 - calm the kid
 - try to keep any sleeping children asleep
 - take a trip to the ER
 - take a temp
.....whatever it may be, it just has to get done.  So do it.

There will be time to react and process after everything is over and calm.

And still, after all is done, the sun will rise tomorrow...

...and there will be toys to pick up.

2Y76D: Quiet Time Update and blueberry muffins

It's been about a month since I started instilling a "quiet time" policy.

Quiet Time is from about noon to roughly 2pm.  He doesn't have to sleep during this time, but he has to stay in his room with the baby gate up.

Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  Lately, it's been working out that we put him in his room with a sippy cup of warm milk, and within 20 minutes or so, he is asleep! Score another for mom.

During that 20 minutes, however, it isn't quiet.  Far from it.  I have already removed the big bucket of blocks, and most of the toy buckets, since all he does is pull them off the shelf and dump them out.

He does that every day (note the thrilled look on my face.)

Sometimes he just falls asleep in the middle of what he is doing:

Part of our everyday cleanup requires some element of his bed to be reattached - sheets, blankets, etc, puzzle pieces collected, clothes to be put away, stuffies to be gathered and more.  Some days I want to take a shovel to his room.

Rarely, both kids go down at the same time.  Today is one of those special days.  Not only are both kids asleep, but my husband got part of the day off, and he is asleep on the couch.  It's just me and the hot blueberry muffins that just came out of the oven:

 

Look who's awake!  Time to get back to work...

2Y70-75D: More Messes, love

It's been a week.  Good things happen, odd things happen...

...dirty things happen.

I haven't done my diurnal chronicling due to lack of arms. 

OK, I've been tired, and the kids have been...active.

Let's start with the most recent first.  Yesterday, I brought out the beans.  I brought out the beans firstly to get them prepared to become chilli, secondly for a lesson in sorting, scooping and pouring, and counting. We had a great time!

I'd been a bit concerned about bringing out small hard objects since the great Macaroni incident of 2011.  Honestly I'm a little scarred from the ordeal.  The last thing I want is...well, you know.

As he does, he got very excited about what he was doing.  Perhaps "over stimulated" might be a good way to describe it.

When it was time to clean up the beans and get ready to rinse them and soak them, he refused.

He refused to let go of the beans.

He refused to let the beans be taken from him.

He refused to stop playing.

And so, he DOVE INTO THE BEANS,  scattering them throughout the entire living room!!!!  This was fun to clean-up.

Now you think our time with the beans has ended.  Oh no, it had just begun.  See that glass bowl on the floor in the picture?  We put all the beans in that bowl, which then was put in the center of the dining room table.

Guess who can reach the center of the dining room table now????

Dried beans and glass on a tile floor not only bounce, but, like water, manage to get in every crevice, crack, and under ever item and piece of furniture in there. 

Yeppers, you got it, that was fun.



It wasn't all a mess filled day, our little Danger can sit up on her own now.  We still keep a pillow around her though, she's pretty top heavy


Some of her peers have already started crawling, but we're not too worried, she'll get there.  Plus she has a good 3-4 lbs on most of them anyway.

Not only can she sit up, she can protect herself from the squishing love from her brother.  He loves he sooo much. He feels the need to give her "big big hugs."  To ward off these onslaughts, she has figured out how to pull big D's hair.  Fun for her, not so much for Daniel.

 Lets get back to the messy stuff, shall we?

Can you guess what's on the floor now?  What is that boy smearing all over?

If you said crushed BASIL, I'd be impressed!

It amazes me everyday how far onto the counters he can reach.  I'll learn one day.

Odds are, not today.


In other news:

I thought I'd write a post about what's happening in CA and how Prop 8 was overturned, I still might.  I am true, firm believer in love.  Love whom you love.  Don't worry about what is happening behind the doors of anyone's  home but your own.  Love thy neighbor, ey!

Also, buy from JCP.

That is all.

2Y72D: Days to remember

When you look back at your life, what days do you remember?  Graduation? A first love? A bad break-up?  Marriage?  Having kids?

Do you remember going to the first day of school, or learning how to walk?  Perhaps even farther back, crawling, learning to roll over?  wearing diapers?

Odds are, you don't.

And so, we, as parents have to remember these days for our children so we'll have something we can hold over their heads when they themselves are in committed relationships...

...or when they ask to borrow the car...

...or for money.

Today is a day I'd like to remember.

Amelia rolled over from her back to her front:

I really did have my camera on me for it.

It happened because she was trying to reach Big D who was holding her blanket (which she just recently received from a wonderful woman, thanks KB!!)  Not only was he holding that blanket, he was about to attack her with it...

but she survived.

Later in the day, A. was in her excersaucer minding her own business, when Big D. insisted on being on it with her.  Now obviously that can't happen.  I pull him away. 

He hits her, so I put him in time-out.

When he gets out a couple of minutes later, he has to apologize to his sister and give her kisses.

He then starts to give her his favorite toys...ALL OF THEM:

...and she seems less than pleased at that point.

But all is not lost.  At dinner time, Big D. was out of control - no nap time.  He was over stimulated, hungry and tired.  Not a good combination.

When things are not going your way, and you find yourself arguing or about to argue with or at your toddler, redirect them.  Redirection is a wonderful tool.

I asked if he would help feed his sister.

"Feed Amelia!!!!"

He loved it.

It was messy:

And finally, we had a visitor, AJ came come to town!  She hasn't been here in a while, and won't be back for some time (ah school - gotta do it) but being that tomorrow is the Superbowl...she made an exception.  A. loves her AJ, and I think AJ loves to be slimed by A.

Minus the frustrations and the messes, it was good day.  A day I want to remember, always.

2Y70D: Just Keep Swimming...

Yes, this is an image from Finding Nemo... Just in case you thought I drew it, or created it...I didn't











I'm allowed to take a break.  I'm allowed to take a break.  I may not be union, but I'm allowed to take a break.

I'm leaving the half a quart of iced tea on the floor.

He doesn't have to wear pants as long as the poop is cleaned off.  The pants can wait.  The laundry can wait - but not too long, now it's wet from the iced tea.

I'm allowed to take a break.
 
She has been needing to be held all day - she can sit in her bouncy chair, she'll be fine.

I'm leaving the dishes in the dishwasher, they're clean.  I'll take them out as I need them.


I'm allowed to take a break.
 
I'm leaving the garbage for my husband to take out - that's how I roll.

My hair is unbrushed, but when/if the cable guy ever comes back, he'll have to deal with it.


I'm allowed to take a break.


I will not cry over spilled milk, so I will look at it and clean it up anyway.  

 


It'll be me who steps in it with my socks on anyway.

Plus, now that it has merged with the stickiness of the aforementioned iced tea, it's quite a mess.

I'll take a break later.


Perhaps at bedtime.