Thursday, June 26, 2014
Washing the Table
The boys ate lunch outside at the picnic table today. Daniel came as a blue ghost. Jonah came as his own thrill seeking, table climbing self.
I have no pictures of the eating. Just imagine an exotic array of colorful vegetables and superfruits framing a fillet of fresh broiled salmon. Just kidding. They had chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs and crinkle cut fries. I gave them green beans, but i highly doubt any were swallowed.
Anyway, after they ate the whole table was slimy and green-beany with a sheen of milk. I was trying to think what order to clean things/ children in when I had a sudden and excellent idea.
We played 'wash the table.'
Which quickly turned into 'wash the brother.'
And then we brought out the shaving cream.
With a little bit of encouragement to scrub faces and the table, and a few buckets of water poured over everything and everyone (Except me. I'm too fast for them.) I was able to completely escape the whole wiping and scrubbing aspect of lunch! They had fun too, and went down for naps really well. All around win. Would buy again.
Now I will go put a blue blanket, two swimsuits, and two lunch outfits on to wash and have a cup of tea.
Goodbye! :)
Thursday, May 29, 2014
How to Forget Lunch
I remember as a kid hearing moms say they hadn't eaten lunch on a given day and assuming that they were either bad planners or they were too busy watching Oprah to get up and make anything. Except maybe Rotel and Velveeta dip, which is not lunch, but should be.
12) Bathe the children. It's the only way. You can rub their skin raw with a dish towel and they will still be sticky and smell of whatever they ate. It will get in the carpet and on the furniture and bugs will come and you'll have to burn down your house. Bath is easier.
I know better now. Getting anything done with little kids around is approximately seven thousand times more difficult than without, and eating is no exception.
Eating without kids is something like this:
1) Decide what to eat.
2) Obtain food.
3) Eat food.
Eating with kids is more like this representation of my actual lunch today:
1) Say it's almost lunch time. A warning is necessary. Children do not appreciate change. There is a chance someone will flip out upon hearing this news. Deal with the flip out in whatever manner your parenting style dictates. And no, you may not bring trolley, three books, and a helicopter to the lunch table.
2) Decide what to eat. When you feed yourself you answer to yourself. When you feed a child you answer to the internet as a whole. The internet thinks you should feed your child a grain-free, vegetarian diet with plenty of local, organic produce, no sugar, and no GMOs. Legumes are still up for debate. Allow five minutes for holding different foods in each hand and frantically looking back and forth while you decide which ones will provide your child with adequate nutrition. I usually go with a PB&J.
3) Listen to child's opinion. He wants cookies and the candy that some people who have clearly never seen the internet gave him at the Memorial Day parade. And to drink he wants something that you can't quite understand because he's only been speaking for a year. He may or may not be crying because he thinks you told him no, even though you really just asked him to repeat himself for the 18th time.
4) He was saying lemonade. We don't have any.
5) Change everyone's diapers. Diapers hold less when the child is sitting at the table. Diapers that have reached maximum capacity leak. It's not worth the risk.
6) Put everyone at the table. Commence infant back arching. Just grab the high chair buckle and be ready to snap it when they relax. In my experience nobody can hold a back arch for more than two minutes. Don't try to flatten the child by pushing in on the soft part of the belly. Because if they vomit you'll just have to start over.
7) Bring the food to the table. You were supposed to be making it while they asked for cookies and candy and lemonade. Sorry if I forgot to mention that. They're strapped in anyway. Just give them a cracker or something and go make the real food.
8) While the kids are eating you can make your own food.
9) When you bring your food to the table your kid wants more milk. "And warm it in the microwave, please and thank you, meow meow." (Thanks, Katarina.)
10) While you are warming the milk your children will eat your food. Not their food. Your food. Why? I have no idea. It could be brussel sprouts and sardines and they'll eat it. I've actually put their vegetables on my plate before for this very reason. Anyway, you have no food now.
11) The kids are done eating. They look like this:
 |
| Patina of bean sauce on the lower face and eyebrows |
13) Naptime! Don't get excited. No nap for you. Put the clean kids in their beds. They will say they are not tired. They may be right, but that's not the point. You are tired and you need some quiet time so you can wash the dishes, launder the lunch clothes, mop up the bathwater, clean the floor under the table, wipe down the booster seats, and decide what's for dinner.
14) You forgot to eat lunch. Hurry! Make some Rotel Velveeta dip before the kids wake up!
Monday, May 5, 2014
The Sugar glider Collection
Daniel spent the morning painting on the balcony. Jonah really wanted to join him, but I was pretty sure he'd just eat the paint. So he had to watch.
Sugar glider in a forest
Trevor and a Sugar glider flying a plane
Sugar glider under a rainbow
Pretty Crocodiles in the sky
Here are the paintings:
Uncle Trevor and a Sugar glider
(The yellow part is the sugar glider and Trevor may or may not be vacuuming.)
(The sugar glider is brown)
(I don't even know. I just hope they aren't crashing.)
(Sugar glider is yellow with a green tail)
(Yep.)
He also painted his hand purple because he needed to be a jungle, and tried to paint Jonah through the screen door, further justifying my decision to keep him inside. And there's another painting blowing around in the parking lot. So I should probably go find that.
Monday, September 9, 2013
A Morning at the Playground
Daniel found a strip of braided leather at the playground today. He brought it over and asked me to help him put on his belt, so I tied it around his waist. Then he put a stick in it. I asked if it was a sword. "Is a mower," he answered. Because everyone needs a lawn mower in their belt.
Jonah napped at first, and then had some fun kicking his legs on a blanket. He seemed very excited about what he could see, so I laid down beside him to check it out.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Hosanna!
Post pregnancy hormones are stealing my dignity. Last time around I cried at insurance commercials. This time it's at any mention of Jesus interacting with children in any way.
Little Child Sample #1. Note the seeming lack of inherent dignity.
Little Child Sample #2. Note that it is 1 am and this little child spent the past five hours screaming in his crib for toast.
Daniel's favorite song right now is 'Hosanna, Loud Hosanna.' It goes something like this:
D: "Mama! Sing Hosanna again!"
S: "Hosanna, loud Hosanna the little children" ... *sniffle*..."sang!"... *runs off to find a kleenex*
Here are the actual lyrics, in case anyone doesn't know the song to which I am referring. I have italicizes the parts that make me tear up. As you can see, the problem is extensive.
Hosanna, loud hosanna, the little children sang;
Through pillared court and temple the joyful anthem rang.
To Jesus, who had blessed them close folded to His breast,
The children sang their praises, the simplest and the best.
From Olivet they followed mid an exultant crowd,
The victor palm branch waving, and chanting clear and loud.
The Lord of men and angels rode on in lowly state,
Nor scorned that little children should on His bidding wait.
“Hosanna in the highest!” that ancient song we sing,
For Christ is our Redeemer, the Lord of heaven our King.
O may we ever praise Him with heart and life and voice,
And in His blissful presence eternally rejoice!
Maybe I'm just really happy to hear that the children I'm spending so much energy on right now are so highly valued. It makes me feel like what I'm doing is important. But mostly it makes me feel self conscious. I don't like to cry. Oh well. I guess Jesus likes humbling adults just as much as he likes granting dignity to babies and toddlers. And it could be worse. It could have been insurance commercials.
Thursday, May 16, 2013
Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?
Daniel likes to pull all the stuffed animals out of their ottoman storage bin and enthusiastically greet each one by name. Today he encountered a new resident, a platypus.
He stared at her for a solid minute with a completely flabbergasted look on his face and then smiled and came running to show me what he had found. "Goosey Goosey Gander, Mama!!! Goosey Goosey Gander!!!"
Somebody's been paying attention to his Mother Goose. The tiger is called "Tiger, tiger." So he's also been paying attention to his William Blake.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
The Case of the Missing Lightbulb
I was sitting in the bathroom with Daniel on one of our many 'potty breaks' we've been having these days, when he suddenly got a very serious look on his face, leaned toward me, and whispered "Bafroom pieces going away."
Pardon?
I asked him to repeat his statement and he did. It sounded exactly the same though. Not helpful. So he decided to point out all the evidence and let me see for myself.
First he walked over to the toilet paper holder and slowly ran his finger back and forth in the air where the rod used to be. "Dis bafroom piece all gone."
It was true. A week or so ago I gave up on teaching him to leave the toilet paper alone and started just storing the roll on a shelf above the toilet. I put the little tension rod under the sink a few days after that because well meaning visitors were constantly putting the roll back in the dispenser. So yes, that bathroom piece had gone away.
Satisfied with my acknowledgement, he stepped over to the sink and pointed up at the lights over the mirror. "Dis light all gone too. Two light on! Dis light gone!" Then back to the mysterious whispering, "Bafroom pieces going away!"
I nodded solemnly while trying not to laugh. One of the three bulbs had burnt out the night before and Ben had taken it out of the fixture and carried it with him to the store to make sure he found the correct replacement. It hasn't occurred to me that Daniel would notice it was gone, much less that he would assume it was related to the disappearance of the toilet paper dispenser rod.
We looked back and forth between the two missing pieces for a while and nodded conspiratorially because we now both knew foul play was afoot. Daniel whispered his enigmatic phrase a few more times to make sure I remembered what were were talking about. I marveled that my baby was now big enough to notice mysteries and count lightbulbs. And now I'm trying to decide between putting in a fresh bulb or hiding something else. :)
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