Show 'n' Tell

"Good morning, J", I said. "It's show 'n' tell day at school today", I said.

J's school has themes for show 'n' tell. Today, the theme is colours.

"Do you want to take my rainbow maker for show 'n' tell today, J?" I asked.

"Yeah!" responded J, happily.

J was excited for show 'n' tell. He loves to show his friends new things and explain how everything works. The rainbow maker is a very cool thing indeed, and has so many colours for his friends to enjoy. And it has a scientific bent to it; J loves science. So we cuddled together, and I held the rainbow maker and explained its workings to J. He listened attentively, soaking it all in.

"See, J? There's this little suction cup here. You get it wet, and you stick it to a window. Then the sun shines in the window and hits this little black angled rectangle - that's the 'solar panel'."

"Oooooh."

"Yes. And that solar panel powers the 'battery', over here."

"Here?"

"Yup. Right here. Then the battery makes all these brightly coloured wheels turn inside the rainbow maker. See the wheels?"

"Yeah!"

"Those wheels are the 'motor'."

"That's the motor?"

"Yes, it is. And when the motor runs, it turns this big crystal on the bottom. The crystal is a 'prism'."

"A prism?"

"Uh huh. And as the sun shines on the prism, the light becomes 'refracted'. Say refracted, J."

"Refracted," said J, with his typical perfect pronunciation.

"Right! 'Refracted'. See? Light gets refracted through the prism, and then the refracted light shines on all the walls. And that makes the rainbows."

"Oooooh!"

"You love the rainbows, don't you J? You love how they dance around the room, huh?"

And J nodded.

"It's dark and cloudy right now. But we can still see the rainbows, online. Do you want to watch a video of the rainbow maker?"

J nodded again. And we cuddled together and watched a quick Youtube video of the rainbow maker. J stared in awe, rapt with attention, thrilled to see the rainbows flying about the room on my computer screen.

"Pretty! Pretty!"

"Now, it's supposed to be a cloudy day, J. So the rainbow maker might not make the rainbows for your class. But you can tell them how the rainbow maker works, and you can take it back to school on a day when it's sunny so your friends can see the rainbows. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah. That sounds good", J agreed.

"It's delicate, J. You have to be careful with it. It's not a toy to be played with. And you can't put it in your mouth. But we'll tell your teacher how it works, and she'll stick it to the window for you and gently turn the crystal for your class if the sun isn't strong enough to do it for you. Okay?"

"Okay", J agreed. And then he held the rainbow maker, and started manually turning the crystal at the bottom.

"Careful, J", I said. "Remember, that is delicate. You have to be very gentle. You really shouldn't play with it like that".

[No response]

"Gentle, J. J? Please don't play with it like that, J. J? J?"

[No response]

"J????"

And then J was off and running like a shot, rainbow maker in hand. He moves quickly - much more quickly than his old and decrepit mother. He smacked the suction cup down, adhering it to his glass-topped craft table, then grabbed hold of the crystal at the bottom and pulled with all his might.

And this is why J's show 'n' tell item for today is a tri-coloured plastic airplane. At some point today, I hope to figure out how to reattach the crystal to the rainbow maker. That would be lovely.

*sigh*

Because mouse poop is funny

So apparently, if you don't post for a few months, the spammers come and get you. They put comments in random posts, thinking you won't notice.

I NOTICE!! I DELETE YOU!! HAPPILY!!

So for the sake of dissuading the spammers, I shall post. Though I've still not a great deal to say. I'm going through something of a depressive period, and I can't organize my thoughts coherently. It's easier not to write. But write, I shall. For it is now apparent that the penalty for writer's block is spam in droves, and that is unacceptable to me.

Feel free to skip this nonsensical post if you like. I just haven't got much to say.

*sigh*

First things first: I got scholarships! Two scholarships! One of them is a coveted national award. Annually, there's only one of these granted in each level. And I took it for Level 4. So I'm happy. There's cash involved. Now I can afford to buy tires. Because they continue to be punctured on a fairly regular basis. I still don't know why, but continue my conspiracy theories.

Secondly, J was moved into Pre-Kindergarten at school. I thought I had another year of preschool, but Pre-K is here. I'm getting used to it. He likes it a lot.

J says many funny things these days. But by the time I get to my computer, I've usually forgotten. I live in something of a fog lately, I'm afraid. But off the top of my head:

J: When I get big, I'm going to paint all the street lights green.

J: Can we go to the AC/DC Centre?
Note: This is J's term for the "ACT Centre", a pool and rec centre that he really enjoys.

J: Today, we talked about our favourite books at show and tell. Thali's favourite book is called 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
T: I think you mean 'Diary of a Mouse'.
J: No. It's 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
T: 'Diary of a Mouse'?
J: No. 'Diarrhea Mouse'.
H: J. Is the book about a mouse that sits on the toilet all the time and does absolutely nothing else? Or is it about a mouse that writes in a little book?
J: Oooooh ... [giggle] It's about a mouse that writes.
T: Ah. 'Diary of a Mouse'.

The final thing that I shall report on is N. Who is sick. Constantly. He's having teething issues. He had a flu bug a week or two ago. He now has a cold with fever. He is rather inconsolable. Last night, he even cried during bathtime. Poor little Pineapple.

There. I posted. Now quit spamming my comments, you nasty robots!

It's educational, because I didn't know Maleficent was British

First, a word of caution.

Please ignore the nasty Blair Witch Project type special effects that occur largely at the tail end of this video as I searched frantically for the stop button. The camera is still pretty new, and I have yet to learn to edit these things.

And now for our feature presentation. We are pleased to present the opening sequence of "Sleeping Beauty", as told by J.



My kid, ladies and gentlemen. He's teh awesomeness. Yup, yup.

(One day, I hope to be able to upload videos through the button in Blogger, instead of having to use Youtube. Sadly, Blogger keeps giving me failure messages. This does not help my self-esteem issues, Blogger. Smarten up.)

Cat toys are not suitable presents for your 4-year old son

Tonight, H and I stopped at a Second Cup to get expensive coffee drinks, because an occasional treat is a good thing and also because J had just announced that he needed to pee and Second Cup was close-by, and we can't abide being "those people"; you know, the ones who use an establishment's bathroom and then leave without buying anything and just really tick everyone right off. But mainly, we bought drinks because an occasional treat is a good thing. And to that end, when J spotted a special cookie that made his eyes just light up, we decided to get it for him.

A happy J skipped out of the Second Cup, cookie in hand. It was a big sugar cookie, shaped like a teddy bear and decorated with green and yellow icing, and J couldn't have been happier. It was very cute, and it looked delicious. We were sure that J would want to eat his treat right away.

J got back in the van, and H strapped him into his carseat. H then removed the cellophane wrap from the cookie and presented it to J so that J might eat his special cookie at once. And as H handed the teddy bear cookie to J, one of the bear's legs broke off. J looked kind of stunned for a moment. But we told him this wasn't a big deal; the cookie would taste the same, and J could just eat the leg first. Apparently placated, J began to eat his cookie. And we headed off for home.

As J continued to eat his cookie, he discussed the situation as he saw it. "Poor teddy bear", said J. And we explained to him that the teddy bear cookie was made to be eaten. It wanted to be eaten. This was the teddy bear cookie's sole purpose. But though J continued to munch on the cookie, he appeared somewhat upset. Periodically, J would look at his cookie with sad eyes and sigh mournfully at the poor teddy bear's plight.

J ate his cookie slowly. He ate the bear's legs, and arms, and then he started working on the bear's head. And then suddenly, he cried out "His eyes are gone!", in the same urgent tone of voice one might use to say "I backed over your brother! Call 911!" And I again told J that the teddy bear was made to be eaten, and that his eyes would surely disappear as he was eaten, and that it was all going to be okay.

To my dismay, J's big bright eyes welled up with tears, and he started to sob uncontrollably. He wouldn't eat the rest of the cookie. It was too painful for him.

He cried for the loss of his teddy bear, whose beautiful yellow and green icing was now completely gone. J wanted his teddy bear cookie to be whole, with yellow and green icing, and eyes that would last forever. He did not want to eat this special cookie. And he would not have done so had the teddy bear cookie's leg not fallen off when its package was opened. To J, this cookie was a real teddy bear, meant to be slept with, played with, and cuddled, and certainly not meant to be eaten. J was horrified that he had mistakenly eaten his new friend.

H considered going back to Second Cup to get J a new teddy bear cookie, but we realized that doing so would be problematic. J would try to sleep, cuddling his replacement cookie. And he would be upset when the cookie crumbled, or when it grew old and stale and had to be thrown in the garbage. Food is not forever. And cookies are meant to be eaten. We needed to come up with something else.

Toy stores are closed. Drug stores, however, are open. And so we stopped at one, looking for a teddy bear. Something small and inexpensive. Something inedible. Something that J could cuddle with and keep.

There were no teddy bears at the drug store. There was a large green ball with a picture of Winnie the Pooh on it, though. But J was unimpressed. A ball was not a friend. A ball was a poor substitute for a teddy bear. A ball could not take the sting off J's wounds. And as he looked at the ball, he tried to be happy. But the tears were still flowing, and they spilled over and wet his sweet little cheeks. He liked the ball, but it was just not the same.

Grocery stores are also open. And we need baby food. And so, with a basket of baby food in hand, I searched. I looked at baby toys, but there were no bears. I looked through the seasonal area, but there were no bears. Specialty items? Giftware? Greeting cards? Yeah, no. There were no bears. Ummm ... cat toys? (Don't judge me. I was desperate.) Oddly enough, there were no bears.

I had nearly given up when at last, I found them. In the back of the floral section. In an area that I think is actually reserved for employees only, but I didn't really care anymore. Balloons, frogs, dogs, unicorns ... and bears! Bears! Cute little stuffed teddy bears! They even had them in yellow and green! Perfect!!!

J sleeps now, with new bears in yellow and green. They are not meant to be eaten. They are not filled with catnip. And when he awakes, he will not be stunned and saddened by their unexpected deterioration into a pile of crumbs.

I am the mom who cannot bear to see tears in your eyes. I will do anything in my power to protect you and to make you smile. Heaven knows that there are harsh realities and disappointments to be faced in this life. You will encounter them someday. And much as it pains me to realize it, I won't always be able to make it better. But just now, you are four. You are four, and you are mine, and I can look out for you. I can't give you everything, but I can give you this. I can wipe your tears and kiss your ow-ies and offer you small tokens that bring a smile to your sweet face once more.

And at the end of the day, I promise that there will be teddy bears.

I love you, J.

At least he knows what's most important

J: My teacher swallowed a frog.
T: You mean she has a frog in her throat?
J: Yes. She swallowed it but it got stuck. And now, she can't eat her french fries.
T: I see.

Chuck E Cheese is not ...

Today was N's first birthday. Such a big boy! He had a cupcake party at daycare this afternoon. Apparently, he quite enjoyed his chocolate cupcake. They made him a little party hat of construction paper that he wore without complaint. He was a happy little guy. Everything was good.

To celebrate his birthday this evening, we decided to go out to Chuck E Cheese. N wore a little birthday boy crown, and ate some pizza. And with considerable prompting, J ate a hotdog. Games were played. Fun was had. Exhaustion ensued.

And people were people. As they often are. And because of them, I have decided to make a list of the things that Chuck E Cheese is not. Because there appears to be some misunderstanding.

So, in case anyone was wondering, Chuck E Cheese is not:

1. quiet.


2. representative of the fine dining experience.


3. relaxing.


4. an excellent choice for a romantic evening out.


5. appropriate for a group with no children present.


6. nutritious.


7. a place that children want to leave. Like, ever.


8. staffed by friendly, knowledgable, polite employees.


9. a library.


10. a magical place where all your dreams come true.


11. responsible for any loss or damage.


12. the best place to really tick off an over-tired mother of two who has just worked a full day and is now at a really loud establishment trying to get a picture of her one-year old sitting in a pretend car next to a giant rat as her insanely hyper four-year old throws up in a place as yet to be determined, because he refused to tell her.


13. cleaned on a regular basis.


14. quiet. (I know I said it before, but it bears repeating.)


15. an alternative to daycare.

So ... Any questions?

Shopping FAIL! Bedtime WIN!

Today, we met up with our friend L and her girls I & G at Ikea. L was a bit late arriving, since she had to come from the other side of the city, and also since she drives like someone's grandma. (Seriously, L - the gas is the little skinny pedal on the right. ;))

We decided to meet up for lunch. And then, we thought it would be fun to let the three big kids play together in Small Land while the rest of us shopped. J is finally tall enough to be admitted to Small Land. When we found out he could get in, H and I were over the moon! (Imagine the prospect of shopping sans preschooler!) But it was not to be. Because J, after taking far too long to eat and tying everyone up for a prolonged period, refused to go into Small Land. And he started having a tantrum, so we picked him up and just left. And poor L had to shop all by herself while we took J for a much needed nap. She must have been so lonely, shopping all alone, with not even a screaming preschooler for company. ;)

As we drove, we passed what appeared to be a carnival. Big rides. Looked like fun. J wanted to go and play, but we weren't about to have him miss his nap after his earlier display. Besides, there are those pesky height restrictions to think of. J is still pretty short for his age, the result of his continued refusal to eat, and he probably wouldn't come up to most ride height restriction lines. So we took a pass.

H: No, J. You have to be a certain height to ride.
J: I AM a certain height!

Well, he's right. We're all a certain height. But he still didn't get to go on any rides.

**********
Sadly, today's Ikea experience was more familiar to us than we'd like to admit. These days, we just don't get to spend quite enough time with other adults without children present. As a result, four-year old logic is starting to make sense to us. Like so:

J: Look at the big nose on my watch pointing over here.
H: That's an arm, J. Not a nose.
J: But it's on the watch's face!

Incidentally, does anyone know why watches have arms on their faces? Were they designed by Pablo Picasso or something?

**********
J has many interests. Mostly balls and blocks. But sometimes, other toys get his attention. Like paints. Or Star Wars.

H: Maybe they just know we're busy with our two?
J: D2.

(Seriously. Think about it. Say it out loud. It makes sense; I promise.)

**********
In other news, tonight N had a bath. While that doesn't sound like much, it was significant. It was the first time that N did not sob uncontrollably during bath time. He sat up in the tub and splashed happily, chasing after his little toy seal and spraying me with water. He frequently stood up for hugs, smiling happily. And he would lie back, knowing Mommy would catch him, and then roll over onto his tummy to crawl around in the warm soapy water. Such a fun time!

Then the kids went to bed. J wanted snuggles, and I happily complied. Always with a tune in my head, I lay next to my little guy with my eyes closed and I hummed. And J looked at me with love in his eyes, and sang me an impromptu lullaby:

Go to sleep.
Go to sleep.
Go to sleep, and sing.
I love you.
I love you so much.
So go to sleep, and sing.
You will be my mommy forever.
You will be my mommy forever.
And I love you forever.
Now go to sleep.

Sometimes, J can be a bit of a demon. But tonight's lullaby really made up for a lot.

Good night, J. Good night, N. I love you.

It's all fun and games until the dinosaur tackles you and rips out your throat

J has a dinosaur. A big, black and white, remote controlled robotic dinosaur with artificial intelligence components. You push a button (conveniently located right on the beast's unmentionables) to start and stop the thing. But you must (MUST) have the remote control in hand to deal with the ramifications. For without the remote control, the dinosaur acts of its own volition. With its fierce jaws aimed at your jugular, the dinosaur will violently shake its tail and roar angrily before it lunges, leaping across the room. And honestly, it can be pretty difficult to get close enough to turn the fool thing off again.

Today, I was in the kitchen feeding baby N when J, alone in the living room, pushed the Button of Doom as the remote control sat, unattended, on the opposite end of the room.

The dinosaur took off like a shot, roaring and shaking its tail, as it aimed itself at J. Cleverly, J evaded the beast by leaping onto the couch. The fierce creature then turned its attention kitchen-ward. It bounded across the room, presumably aiming for N's apple sauce and Cheerios, but was temporarily distracted by the basement door. Which it tried to eat. In an effort to protect his household, J took the opportunity to bravely run toward the dinosaur. Grabbing the creature by its violently shaking tail, J attempted to pull it away from the door. And the dinosaur turned. It lowered its head. It roared at J. Not to be bested by a toy animal, J stood firm and, raising himself to his full thirty-eight inches, shouted "Stop, Dinosaur! I command you!!"

Not surprisingly, the dinosaur was unimpressed. It advanced on J, who backed away quickly while continuing to scream "I SAID STOP!! STOP DINOSAUR!! I COMMAND YOU!!!" And so, I protected my child. I snuck up behind the out-of-control animal as it menacingly approached my 4-year old. I reached under its tail, and I hit the power button, stopping the mad beast dead in its tracks and quite possibly saving my child from a tragic dinosaur-related end.

And then, of course, J got mad at me for turning off his dinosaur when he wanted to play with her. Ungrateful little so-and-so.

(We're sending it to preschool next week for show-and-tell. Because we're awesome like that.)

Proof that urine is acidic

J is a poor eater. You may remember me discussing it at some length. He doesn't eat; therefore, he doesn't grow. He is now the smallest kid in his class. We've been working on it. Different strategies have been employed, doctors and nutritionists have been consulted, medications have been used. But J still just doesn't eat enough. It's a problem.

J is on an appetite stimulant. It seems to work marginally, but does not provide a great improvement. It also makes him tired. The doctor assures us that this is a good thing; kids experience most of their growth when they are asleep. And so, J needs a lot of sleep. He sleeps well at night, and also has an afternoon nap. Sometimes, it's easy to get J to nap. Other times, it's more difficult. Usually on the weekends, J would prefer not to nap at all. Various delay tactics will be employed as J works to stay awake in the afternoon. If he succeeds, he will be grumpy and act out as the day wears on; eventually, he will start getting in trouble and will have to go to bed early because he's too tired to carry on.

Today is just such a day.

J's usual delay tactics are just not especially noteworthy. Really, any kid trying to delay bedtime will employ most of the same tactics; his are no different. But today, one of his stalling techniques was somewhat unique. It must therefore be shared, and preserved, and probably brought up again in the future, possibly on his wedding day.

And so it goes.

After being tucked in, J climbed out of bed and started going through his stuffed animal toybox, eventually finding an animal that makes noise. He then played with the noisy animal for a bit, ran around his room, and kicked his wall several times. Eventually, he grew bored and started knocking on his bedroom door and shouting (his ever-so-subtle signal that "IT'S TIME TO GET UUUUU-UUP"). I went up, and told him that it was still nap time. J insisted that he needed to get up to give Daddy a kiss. I called H up so that J could kiss him (much to the chagrin of J who wanted to go downstairs to kiss Daddy). J then said that he needed to pee. So I took him to the bathroom, and then tucked him back in. He then insisted that he was thirsty and needed a drink of water.

Now here's where it got interesting.

J: I need a drink of water because my throat hurts. My throat is soooo sore, because I needed to pee soooo badly. So that's why I need a drink of water.

I couldn't really relate. Must be a guy thing?

Will the circle be unbroken? Um ... NO!

Today, H picked up J from preschool. Inexplicably, J burst into song. "Santa Claus is Coming to Town". (Yes, in April.) This drew attention from one of J's teachers, who laughed and then relayed a little story from today's "circle time".

In "circle time", the class takes part in various activities. Show and tell ... music ... yoga ... Spanish class ... stories ... the list goes on and on. It's a very active preschool. Today in circle, the kids were playing a game called "Who stole the cookies". The idea is to rhythmically say: "Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? [Name of child] stole the cookies from the cookie jar". And there are a few more silly little lines, with fun and innocent rhyming responses from the child in question, and then you keep going down the line of children until you've done all of the names. It's very cute.

All good, right? Except J doesn't like being falsely accused. So ...

Class: Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? J stole the cookies from the cookie jar.

J: (sporting his best "mad-face") I DID NOT!!!

Teacher: It's just a game, J. We go down the line. So next, we're going to say that B stole the cookies from the cookie jar.

J: Well, then maybe he did it. But I didn't! **

J quite enjoys circle time. Only problem: he and his best little preschool friend A aren't allowed to sit together any longer. They chat and play during the planned activities, and I've been told that they get quite disruptive. I also note in recent days that they are also no longer allowed to eat lunch together. But they still get lots of good play time in, so I think they're pretty happy all told.

**********
** Note: The following is how "Who stole the cookies" should actually play out:

Class: Who stole the cookies from the cookie jar? [Child] stole the cookies from the cookie jar.

Child: Who, me?
Class: Yes, you.
Child: Couldn't be.
Class: Then who?

The Tail of Sleeping Beauty (and that is not a typo)

J loves the story of "Sleeping Beauty". He will often act out parts. Now, I don't remember the story this way, but here was tonight's rendition:

J: (calling from upstairs) Mommy. Be Sleeping Beauty.
T: Okay. (pretends to sleep) I am Sleeping Beauty.
J: (coming down the stairs) I'm a shark!
T: (completely loses it, then pretends to sleep again)
J: (leans over T) RRRRROOOOOAAAAARRR!
(pause)
J: (climbs up and touches T's face) WAKE UP!
T: I can only be woken up by my true love's kiss.
J: But I can't kiss you. Because I'm a shark.
T: I can only be woken up by my true love's kiss.
J: But I have sharp teeth!
T: I can only be woken up by my true love's kiss.
J: But ... but ... DADDY!!!

H arrives, to find T pretending to sleep on the couch and a frustrated J dressed in a hooded towel that strongly resembles a shark.

J: You're Sleeping Beauty's true love! Kiss her!

H complies, and T awakes. Moments later:

H: J! Don't wrap your tail around that bag!
J: But I can't hold it with my fins.
T: (completely loses it and almost chokes on her gum)

Mr. Shark then works to postpone bedtime. He gives Sleeping Beauty presents for her birthday (which is not for several months, in case anyone was wondering). She receives a bag full of stuffed animals actually belonging to baby N, a Merlin magnifying glass (which J tells me is "so you can see any wet spots"), and a dump truck. Score!

And then, when he realizes it is not actually Sleeping Beauty's birthday, Mr. Shark swims away with all the presents tied to his tail. He informs Sleeping Beauty that she does not get any presents; she has to wait for her birthday.

Of course, it all ends very badly. A tragedy of Shakespearean proportions. There is a horrible bedtime brawl. A cat's tail is pulled. Screaming ensues. There are tears and headaches. And someone has to go to bed without a story. And The Tail of Sleeping Beauty is nearly ruined.

Nearly. But not quite. For H and I will always remember the sight of J, swimming away with several bags of toys tied around his hooded towel tail. And that's worth a lot.

And then, the elephant boy was eaten by a dragon, and peace reigned throughout the land. At least, until the crows came ...

Puff the magic dragon
Lived by the sea
And caught up on the other one
In the lands of Connor Lee.
Now. Have a 4-year old sing that 428,686,297,886 times in a row at top volume while a baby shrieks inconsollably and you and your spouse try to have a serious discussion about the meaning of life, and you'll be roughly where I am now.

Also: You should totally take the 4-year old with you to the vet's office to buy cat food. It's fun. Trust me. It goes something like this:

J: I want this octopus! This big blue octopus! The octopus! I want the octopus!! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT I WANT IT ... !!!!
Eventually, our kind receptionist-type friend gave J a shrimp-shaped cat toy as a compromise, just to make him stop flipping out. A very pissed-off looking J left the vet's office, shrimp in hand. Other people commented that he was very cute. H offered to sell him, but there were no takers. I can't imagine why.

**********
As an aside, in J's bedtime story this evening, a large, long-legged white bird delivered a baby elephant to Mrs. Jumbo. Now, what do we call that large, long-legged white bird again? Well, according to J, that bird is called a crow. And honestly, hearing that the baby elephant was delivered by a mutant albino crow really changes the feel of "Dumbo" for some reason. But I don't know why.

**********
And on that note, when H and I were teasing J this evening and telling him that he was actually an elephant, he argued with tremendous force and perfect tone.

J: I am not an animal! I am ... a person!!
Oooh; he almost had it.

Seriously Random

Time for Random Tuesday Thoughts, sponsored by Keely over at The Un Mom. So here goes. Try to keep up.



One of my friends passed away last week, and I've been working on a post in memory. Should be up soon, if I can ever finish it. Looking for the humour in the situation, so it has to be just right; Joe was a born comic, and the sombre wouldn't suit him at all. Ever the comedian, he checked out on April 1st. Which was actually hilarious in its own way, since most people thought it was an April Fool's Day prank. Even at the memorial service, I think some of us expected him to leap out, laughing like a maniac, and say he was just fine. But no. And while you may think it terrible of me to refer to death as "hilarious", Joe would have really liked it. If you knew him, you'd understand. If not, that's a shame. Joe was one of the good ones, and I bet heaven is an even happier place now that he's in it. Remember the good times.

Today, I am the mother of a 4-year old. J's party with his school friends is today, at school. His party with all our friends was Sunday, just before the memorial service. J was very excited, because he'd talked me into making him a cake shaped like a tank. It turned out well; pictures will come. J was walking around for 2 weeks before his party telling everyone. "Mommy's going to bake me a cake! It's an army machine! And it has a BIG GUN!!" J is obsessed with guns. It's a very strange obsession, since we don't allow guns as toys, and neither does school, and neither do his grandparents, and ... honestly, we have no idea why he's so gun-crazy. It's a bit disconcerting. A birthday post should also be forthcoming. Can't believe he's four already; where does the time go?

On the subject of "where does the time go", I go back to work in four more weeks. Since I spent much of my maternity leave recovering from a knee break, it just doesn't feel right to go back yet. Leave feels incomplete somehow. In some ways, it will be nice to be back among adults some of the time. In other ways ... well, change is always alarming. I'll miss my baby, and my routine will be all messed up for awhile. I'll do it because I have to; it's the only way our family can make ends meet. And I really do like my job and my employer a lot. But it's still hard to leave the baby. And while a part of me wants to go back to work, there's also a pretty big part of me that just doesn't want to be away from the kids at all. I mean, ever. They should just stay little forever, I think.

Knee's flaring up again. I guess it's affected by changes in the weather. I'd love for it to quit hurting, but every so often, I develop a pronounced limp. While I really do miss the cat, I can't help but think that it's kind of all her fault I'm in this condition. At least I'll always remember her, right? I think I'll name my knee hardware "Damn Cat", in her honour.

School's going okay, I suppose. I got de-railed again last week, when Joe passed. So now, I'm playing catch up again. Lots of fun. Still no word back on my first assignment, though some other students have theirs back already. And on the subject of "some other students", I'm feeling generally frustrated with my class in general. I just wish people would read the materials before asking questions. (Honestly, people; I'm happy to brainstorm, but I can't read the textbook for you!) Anyway, hopefully I did okay on the first assignment. I'm working on the second now. And I'm still waiting for the results from my last class and the results of my university application. These things all take time, and patience is not my strong suit.

Happy Tuesday, everyone. Now, go visit Keely, and do your own Random Tuesday Thoughts.

It is inappropriate to have a "favourite large yucky bug"

Today, I had to phone H at work and have him come home. I've had a severe headache since Saturday morning. My positive thinking and careful Tylenol dosing have not helped it to pass. I couldn't cope with the pain today, so I couldn't take care of the kids properly. I also couldn't drive myself to the doctor because I could barely see. H loaded the kids into the van and drove me to the doctor, then returned home to wait for me to call for a ride home. And I waited at the doctor's office for over two hours before I was seen.

It's a severe sinus infection. Hurts like hell. Imagine someone attacking your eye socket with a crochet hook. Yeah. It's kind of like that. But now, I have drugs. The doctor says I should be feeling better by the weekend.

As painful as this is, though, I think it may actually be preferrable to the torture H had to endure at the hands of our children while I was away.

*********
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: (singing) Rock-a-bye baby ...
J: Daddy!
H: ... in the treetop ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
J: Daddy!!
H: ... the cradle will ...
J: DADDY!!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: WHAT, J?!?!
J: I want you to pretend to be the big giant cockroach from "Men in Black".
H: ...
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: Rock-a-bye ...
J: DADDY!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: FINE! (In a really low voice) I am the big giant cockroach from "Men in Black".
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
J: Big giant cockroach?
H: *sigh* Rock-a-bye baby ...
J: BIG GIANT COCKROACH FROM "MEN IN BLACK"?!
H: Yes, J!!!
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
J: Cockroaches are my favourite kind of large yucky bug, because they have big sharp teeth coming out of their cheeks.
H: Good. Is that all?
N: WAAAAAAAAAAAH!!
H: ... when the wind blows ...
J: COCKROACH!!!

**********
That? Or the sinus infection? I think it's a toss-up. But what would you prefer?

Irritation and Injuries

Yesterday, I turned my back for a moment to put in a video for J to watch. J took that opportunity to swan dive off the couch, landing directly on his face on the hardwood. Good times.

I worked to stop the blood that was pouring from J's nose and mouth, trying to console my little boy, while also admonishing him that "This is why Mommy and Daddy tell you not to jump off the furniture like that". I realized that he'd banged his mouth and nose but good, and he'd also smacked his chin and forehead. He had tooth punctures in both his upper and lower lips. I was worried about his mouth. His teeth. His nose. His head. Oh dear ... I hope his teeth are okay; his nose not broken; he has no concussion.

And J screamed and cried. And I applied pressure to his nose and mouth. And I phoned H. And I carried the crying J up the stairs, while he shrieked, waking N from his nap with screams of "I WANT MY N!!!" (It's sweet that he's so attached to his little brother.)

J went to emergency. He is okay. No breaks; no stitches. Popsicles to reduce the swelling in his mouth. And he feels better today. Sadly, he continues to leap off the furniture like a little maniac. But hopefully, he has learned to land on his feet and yesterday's faceplant will not be repeated.

**********
Today, I feel agitated. It's a general unhappy rage. I'm not 100% certain of what has caused it, but it is there nonetheless. I don't like it. I wish it would go away. But these moods take time to pass. And so, I wait. And as I wait, I brood. And question everything and everyone around me. And wish for a happy headspace, which will only come when it is good and ready.

Mood swings are a part of me, and you'd think I'd be used to them by now. But apparently, I am not. So for now, I grit my teeth and wait for the tides to turn. I hope happy, fun posts will soon appear. They'll come; they always do. Just takes time.

Yeah ... 'cause THAT's what's important there ...

Watching "Sleeping Beauty" with J tonight. And ... well ... you know the scene where the beautiful princess pricks her finger on the spindle and collapses to the ground, near death? And the evil witch sneers in triumph right before she disappears into a big ball of evil green aura? Happens right around the 3-minute mark ...



J: She forgot her ball!!

(He was genuinely alarmed by that. Couldn't have cared less about the plight of the beautiful 16-year old princess, of course.)

UPDATED: Why children are the best!

Tonight found me wearing the same clothes for the third day in a row. (N and I have been sick ... don't judge me!) The clothes in question are an old pair of grey maternity sweatpants (no, I'm not pregnant; they're just comfy) and an oversized black Elton John concert shirt. N had thrown up oatmeal and applesauce down the front of the shirt this morning, and I was too tired to change it, so I'd just kind of sponged it off and carried on.

Tonight, I decided to work out even though I wasn't feeling well. Workouts give me energy. We recently acquired a Wii Fit, and I love using it. I've lost a little bit of weight, but I'm still classed as obese. It takes time. Must be consistent. So I did about half an hour of expert level rhythm boxing tonight. Worked up a good sweat. Tired. Sore arms. Sweating profusely. I collapsed on the couch in a heap and tried to catch my breath.

J was watching from his perch on the other couch. And as soon as I had flopped my ill-clad, obese, sweaty self down, he sweetly said: "You're so pretty, Mommy".

Good boy. I think I'll keep him.

**********
On an unrelated note, someone landed on my blog today by googling the words: "youtube how do I get out of this chicken".

Dear Googler,

I hope you have now somehow found the assistance that you required. But I'm unclear as to how you could have watched a self-help video on Youtube while trapped inside a chicken. Must have been a very large chicken. Please enlighten me. Please also advise as to where I may purchase just such a chicken. It could be useful for large family dinners.

Sincerely,

Momma T

PS - "How do I get out of this chicken" was actually in quotes. What is truly alarming is that the unfortunate googler landed on this post. I don't know why.

Johnny Appleseed IS Father Christmas

J decided that we should all say grace at breakfast this morning. And so, he "taught" us to sing the special grace he learned at preschool. Feel free to sing along!

Oh, the Lord is good to me
And so I thank the Lord
For giving me the things I need
The sun, and the rain, and the appleseed
The Lord is good to me
Jolly Old St. Nicholas
Um ... erm ...

Thank you ...
Ummm ...

Ah-men.

J's theological training continues to progress nicely. For while he confuses Johnny Appleseed with Santa Claus, at least he no longer ends his prayers by shouting "What the heck!" Progress, peoples!

How to annoy me

I'm on maternity leave right now. In school. Two children. Ordinarily, I also work outside of the home at a job that I very much enjoy. I'll be returning to it in May. This dual income household concept is foreign to many. Why would both parents in a household choose to work outside of the home? Why wouldn't one of you stay at home with your children? What's wrong with you?!

Of course, there is nothing wrong with us. We're just fine. So why do both of us work outside of the home? And why might other couples make that same decision?

Well, there may be some fairly obvious financial considerations. And of course there are some developmental and social skills that a child can garner from early childhood development centres, which centres are reasonably unaffordable if you don't happen to have a dual income household. But perhaps the main reason to have two working parents is just plain sanity. 'Cause a full day at the office is vastly more relaxing than a morning at home with both my children. Quite frankly, it feels like a break. If you have children, you probably understand this. If not ... well, read on and you will very soon.

**********
My child knows just exactly how to annoy me. Now, other people can get in there and really piss me off, too. But the 3-year old J has become quite the old hand at it. Bravo, J!

For those of you who aren't quite as adept, here is a quick reference guide on how to annoy me. And I venture to say that this list would transfer to pretty much anyone, so feel free to use it at your discretion. You can do all of these things in a short space of time. Just ask J, whose time management skills are so fabulous that he has done everything on this list today! (It's not even noon.)

Thanks, and have a lovely day.

**********
After walking your father to the door to see him go off to work and promising not to cry, pitch a screaming fit with more tears than I've ever seen before.

Pace up and down the stairs, turning lights on and off and crying inconsollably.

Demand I call your father on his cell phone and tell him to return home at once so that he can pour you a glass of milk.

Insist that Daddy, and only Daddy, can give you milk; Mommy is not good enough.

When I theorize that you just miss your father and would like to talk to him, and so I phone him (at your insistence) so that you can talk, spend all your time on the phone shrieking at the top of your lungs that you need him to race home and pour you a glass of milk immediately.

Scream and cry for an hour about the fact that Daddy will not return home to pour you a glass of milk.

Unlock the front door, presumably to go searching for Daddy or to let Daddy back in so that he can pour you a glass of milk.

Do not tell me that you have unlocked the front door.

Insist on having both white and chocolate milk for breakfast, and demand to drink your chocolate milk with a spoon.

When I (very reluctantly) give you a spoon for your chocolate milk, insist that you want a different spoon.

Throw yourself on the kitchen floor, kick your feet, and scream incessantly about the fact that the spoon I gave you is inadequate, because it is not shiny and grey from top to bottom, did not originate from the cutlery drawer, and is not "breakable".

Continue to scream your demands for a spoon for the next 20 minutes.

When I hold up the spoon that I provided and ask you what it is, insist that it is a fork.

After the whole "milk" extravaganza ends, wait about ten minutes, and then rhythmically chant "I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. I need a glass of water. ..." at me. Do not say "please".

Fill small containers with loose bits of paper and other items that are essentially just garbage.

Pitch a fit when I tell you that garbage goes in the garbage can. Respond by clutching the garbage to your chest as though it were your most treasured possession.

Grab a plastic egg you got for Easter two years ago. Stuff small blocks in it.

When I tell you that small stuff goes on the craft table, and not in an egg, ask "Whhhhhyyyyy?" in your most plaintive whiny voice.

While we're on that subject, ask "Whhhhhyyyyy?" in response to everything that is said, no matter how ridiculous the question may be at that juncture.

Try to trap your little brother under a baby gym by placing its legs on his throat.

Try (and fail) to look innocent and naive when I tell you to stop trying to murder your little brother with a baby gym.

Insist that you must sit on my lap and scream into the phone while I try to talk to the incompetent postal employees who lost the university application that I sent out on Wednesday by Express Post with guaranteed next day delivery. (Incidentally, the postal employee has refused to track the lost package and has told me to call back on Monday to check on its delivery status, at which time they will agree to track the package. Fat lot of good that will do, though, since it has to be received by Monday in order for me to get in; but thanks!)

Pour a bowl of Cheerios over the freshly swept floor. Put Cheerios back in bowl. Repeat, ad infinitum.

Nurse the same bowl of Cheerios for three hours.

When I tell you it's 2 hours to lunch and that breakfast is now officially over, flip out and run upstairs with your half-eaten bowl of Cheerios.

Make me chase you up the stairs as my bad knee throbs.

Stomp on the baby's "My First Reader" set and nearly break it.

Hunt through the house and find a non-washable ink pad. Hide it somewhere on your craft table. The next time I'm in the kitchen, grab that ink pad and make a wall mural in the living room.

Pour a bunch of choking hazards over the floor where the baby plays.

When I tell you to put those small items back on your craft table, respond by dumping all of them in a box that's sitting on the floor, in direct defiance of my instructions.

Run to the bathroom and ask me to pause Bugs Bunny, the show that is currently on TV.

When I tell you that this cannot be done (it's on TV, not on video), cry about it.

Inquire from the bathroom as to whether Bugs Bunny has ended. And when I tell you that it has, continue to check with me, just for clarification. Like so:

J: Is it over?!
T: Yes.
J: No! Bugs Bunny!
T: Yes.
J: No! Is Bugs Bunny over?!
T: Yes, it's over.
J: No! I mean Bugs Bunny! Is Bugs Bunny over?!
T: Yes. Bugs Bunny is over.
J: No! Bugs Bunny!! Is Bugs Bunny over?! Is it over?!
T: YES!! YES!! BUGS BUNNY IS OVER!! BUGS BUNNY!!! BUGS BUNNY!!! YES! BUGS BUNNY IS OVER!!!!!

Ask to watch "The Tale of the Mighty Knights" repeatedly. When it's movie time, wait until I start "The Tale of the Mighty Knights". Then run over to the craft table and start playing with your play-doh.

Ask me to play play-doh with you. And no matter what I say, repeat. Like so:

J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: I thought you wanted to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights.
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: Don't you want to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights?
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: It's movie time, though, isn't it?
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: J. You asked for The Tale of the Mighty Knights.
J: Do you want to play play-doh with me?
T: Don't you want to watch The Tale of the Mighty Knights anymore?
J: NO!!!
T: Awesome.

Rip the baby gym apart and insist that it is your "fire gun".

When I ask you to put the gym back together, refuse to do so and forcefully throw the pieces on the floor instead.

When I pick you up to place you in time out, hit me.

Spend the next several minutes screaming and throwing toys at your closed bedroom door as you continue to tantrum while in time out.

Intentionally pee on the carpet in your bedroom, just to vex me.

Wake the baby.

Wordful Wednesday

Every time this comes on the TV, J stops whatever he is doing and runs like a maniac towards the music, screaming "My favourite show!!" I mean, it's cute and all, but over time the music does get a little annoying. And it's not exactly a "show".

*shrug* At least it's short.