The glass ceiling

It was months ago when I posted about Belle's level of love for me compared to her dad.  I just can't compete.  The glass ceiling is real, people.   In our house that ceiling lies right below the level of her father.


Exhibit A: Our conversation while I was putting her to bed.

Let the record show that I was being kind and snuggling with her even after she was already supposed to be in bed and we'd been having a lovely time talking about Winnie the Pooh.

From a recording of Winnie the Pooh: "Oh, Bear!" said Christopher Robin. "How I do love you!"

Me, giving her a hug: Oh, Belle! How I do love you!

Belle, smiling back sweetly: Oh, Mom! How I do love Dad!

Jingle Belle

This post is preemptive in case you ever happen upon me and hear me singing some nonsensical tune.

I am not crazy.

At least not in the sing-nonsense-to-myself sort of way.

These days I sing nonsensical things for one reason and one reason only.

Belle.

The girl has a future in composing pop music.  If pop music is still around in 2033, she'll be a millionaire.  She has SUCH a knack for inventing catchy songs.

Sweet
Her debut song was "We are friends together."  Those were the only words but the tune was so nauseatingly cute that I was sure she'd learned it from Barney.  But no, apparently she came up with the tune and phrase in her own little pink brain.

I would putter around the kitchen crooning, "We are friends....together!"

Since then the words have gotten odder and the tunes much more catchy.


Quirky
One of my very favorites is the rolling romp of a song that goes, "And it's always NIGHT on the moon!"  Those are the only words again.  It just repeats.  In its peppy way.  And I often find myself tossing laundry into the dryer to the beat of it .

Besides, those words really make me laugh.  It was WEEKS of singing it before the inevitable happened.  Dalton, who I though had a pretty good grasp of the whole moon-earth-sun relationship, stopped singing, crinkled his nose and looked thoughtfully out the window.  Then he said, "Wait a minute.  Mom, IS it always night on the moon?"


Funny in a gross sort of way
The winner for downright weirdest is the one she made up while she was waiting for someone to come and assist her in finishing up her toilet.  After her usual sing-songy call of, "MOO-OOOMMMM!  I POO--OOOPED!" I came upstairs to find her on the toilet singing quietly, "There's no one here to WIPE me!  There's no one here to WIPE me!"

I almost want to video her singing these so you can get them stuck in your head too.  Because I'd love to not be the ONLY person perusing the cheese selection at the grocery store while singing, "There's no one here to WIPE me!"

Highs and Lows - mid-January edition

Looking back at last year makes me realize something.  I suck at blogging.  In 2011 I blogged almost once a week.  2012?  Only every other week.  That's not very often.  I realized that I blogged most often when I kept up on my Highs and Lows.  I also realize these are some of my own personal favorite posts because it's a great reminder to me of the craziness that went on around my home.

And it often makes me grateful that whatever caused my lows is usally something the kids have outgrown.  Kids growing up is wonderful.  Can I get an amen?


So here's some highs and lows by person:


Liam:
High:  (Or more precisely, the chance of a high...)

I think that there MIGHT be a SLIGHT possibility that Liam COULD learn to talk soon.

Maybe.

Because we've been convinced that he's never going to.  After all he's almost a teenager and he doesn't speak.

Alright, fine.  He's 17 months old but he honestly only has ONE real word.  Mama.  And that is recent.

To be fair he also says "bye bye."  But instead of b's he uses d's.  So whenever some is going away he yells, "DIE!! DIE!!!"

Which, I think we can all agree, is not very friendly.



He won't even repeat words.

Me: "Liam, say doggie."

Liam: "Enddggaggoao  moooommmmmmmssfflkj.  gnk"

Me: "Liam, say Belle"

Liam, "Gaagggooddnnnngllskk.  gnk."

Yes, he always ends with the 'gnk' sound.


But yesterday, while Medman was trying to watch football (which is a low we Bronco fans are NOT going to talk about) and had tried about a dozen friendly things to get Liam to stop poking him in the face, he said, "Liam, go away."

Liam looked at him seriously and said, "Away."

Shocked silence.
I motioned enthusiastically at Medman to say it again.

"Go away."

"Away."

"Go away!"

"Away!"

Exciting, no?  Don't judge our parenting.  I'd say in the grand scheme of things learning to speak outweighs whatever short lived emotional scarring will occur from both his parents eagerly telling him to go away.


Since then I am pretty certain he has tried to say ball and when I tried to read the Thomas book to him at naptime today he did hollar "ELLLLMMMAA" while pointing at the (wordy and boring) Elmo book he wanted to read.

So, stay tuned for the day I can officially make this a high because he is consistently trying to talk.

Low:  That day is not here yet.



Belle and Dalton:
The other night we let Belle and Dalton do a sleepover.  (By "we" you know I meant Medman thought of it, right?  Does ANYONE think that the mom came up with an idea like that?  No, that has "Fun Dad Idea With Possibly Terrible Ramifications" written all over it.)


High:
Oh me of little faith, because they did really well and had a blast.  Their two rules were No Fighting and No Jumping.  I don't think we actually had to do the No Fighting rule.  Any time those two have gotten to sleep in the same room as each other there is nothing but hysterical laughter for hours.

In fact, next time they're bickering in the middle of the day I think I'm going to declare it Sleep Over Time and send them both up into Belle's room.  Hours and hours of ceaseless laughing.

Low:
Belle is the child who will wake up at night.  You can dance toys on Dalton's head while he sleeps and he won't stir.  Really, we have videos.

But Belle sometimes wakes up.  So around 3:15 am she woke up and apparently needed me.  So she started crying for me.  Which woke Dalton up (wow).  From what I can put together, their conversation went something like this:

Dalton: Belle, what's wrong?
Belle:  I have something to tell mommy!
Dalton:  You should tell her in the morning.  (Do you see how smart my boy is?)
Belle:  I can't possibly wait until morning!!!! It is so very important!!!! I MUST tell her NOW!!!

Since Belle religiously follows the "Don't Get Out Of Bed At Night" rule, she used her imperial power to send Dalton in to our room to let us know she had something to tell me.

When I entered the room, she began a very Belle-ish tale.

"Mommy, before I went to bed tonight - this night, the one where I put on these blue footie pajamas which are SO WARM and COZY and I love so much more than the monkey ones - before this night - but after it had already gotten dark even the part of the sky that was still yellow for a long time after dinner - at the beginning of THIS night I saw a train.  But you didn't.  And I had to tell you that."


High:
About 8 words into this I noticed that Medman had followed me in.

Sucker.

I patted his shoulder and said something encouraging like, "You got this," and went back to bed.


Low:
When Belle wakes up at night, if she really wakes up she ends up talking to herself for about an hour before going back to sleep.

When Belle also completely wakes up Dalton the two of them chatter to each other for TWO HOURS until their mean mom comes in and declares that if anyone makes even one single sound they are going back to their own beds.

Judging from the next day it is much more difficult for a mom to be up for two hours in the middle of the night than for a three year old and a six year old.



Hope everyone had a lovely holiday season!

Anyone have any highs or lows they want to share?

OR anyone have any grand ideas on getting a kid to talk?

Sorry Excuse for a Christmas Card 2012

I've declared it an official tradition that I send out a Christmas card through the blog because I'm too much of a slacker to do a real one.  My other excuse this year is that I don't have a good camera.  My "digital camera" (I use the term loosely) has issues.  To get it to focus requires pushing the button down halfway about a hundred times during which time I believe the camera is actually swearing at me.  Then, maybe because it uses up so much energy in cussing and trying to focus on whatever's in front of it, it only grumbles out eight blurry pictures before the battery dies.

So for pictures I'm stuck with my phone.  And it's a phone.

Therefore this year I didn't even do the normal take-a-thousand-pictures-hoping-for-one-good-enough-to-photo-shop thing.  Because it would have been eight blurry bad pictures and I don't think there should be that much swearing during a Christmas photo shoot.  Besides, after some serious statistical analysis I realized there was a 0.00003% chance that any of those shots would have been good.

I did ask Santa for a new camera for Christmas, but seeing as I just remembered I wanted one two days ago, I may have asked Santa too late.

So, in lieu of a real Christmas card or even a Christmas card-y sort of blog post, here's some blurry phone pictures for your viewing pleasure.

Merry Christmas.



First some random cuteness:

Liam finds a Liam-sized tree.

Pretty cute even if she is snuggling a paper towel roll.

 *******

Playing in the snow we got a couple of days ago.  (Belle saw the snow and screamed, "NOW it's Christmas!"  Then was temporarily devastated that she couldn't open presents immediately.)

I love fluffy toddlers so bundled up that they can't lower their arms all the way.

Yes, you can feel bad for his cold hands.  I don't have gloves small enough for him.  And really, were any going to stay on?  I think not.  

*******

And just a little weirdness, in case you thought your kids were the only strange ones:

I don't pretend to know why Liam does this a dozen times each day.
He's usually grumbling and muttering something inarticulate at the same time.  

*******

And I leave you with a Vader montage:

The rebels are coming?

What we gonna do?

Just dance....Just dance

Merry Christmas!  

May your Christmas season include as least as much peace 

as I had during the 30 seconds they sat and contemplated the beautiful tree.

Embrace the Porcupine

We've moved across the country and settled in a new home.  This home has lots of lovely things about it.

It's on a quiet culdesac.
It has a nice fenced yard.
It has a cute breakfast nook and front window and brick fireplace.
It has a covered pergola in the back yard for the kids to play under in the rain.  (Yes, we moved to Oregon. Some of you may not know this, but it seems to rain a bit here.  Just gentle little sprinkles of rain on and off.  So far I find it lovely.)

But there's two things that our different from our last house

1) way less square footage
2) no carpeting.

This makes for cozing living.  Both physically and auditorily.


A little back story:
Dalton has noise issues.  When he was little he had Noise Issues.  Parades with fire trucks?  Torturous.  Indoor swimming pools with kids yelling and splashing? Tears and covered ears.

I wondered, "Why does this child have noise issues?  Is it because his brain is so highly developed that he hears even more than the normal person? Are his eardrums unnaturally large?"

Since having a whole gaggle of children in the house I've come up with the real reason he has noise issues.  Both his parents have noise issues. 

I didn't even know I did, but I do.

Fun fact:  Carpet absorbs sound.  I had no idea how much. Until we moved into this lair of hard floors.

It's been an adjustment since moving in here.  And by adjustment I mean I haven't adjusted at all.

I believe there has been more than one occurrence of an adult female in the house yelling, "FOR THE LOVE OF CHRISTMAS WILL ALL OF YOU PEOPLE STOP HAVING FUN AND SHUT YOUR MOUTHS FOR JUST FIVE MINUTES?"  

You see, loud noises sometimes feel like porcupine quills jabbing into my brain.


Soooooo anyway, yesterday I decided that since there was absolutely no way I was going to end up with a quiet house, maybe the house and I could compromise.  I will send the children outside for nice chunks of time, and when they are inside I will embrace the noise.  Perhaps even contribute to it.

So we had this race/parade/free-for-all time yesterday which involved Dalton running some sort of Jedi  race, Belle running after him with an empty milk jug full of clothespins (noisiest toddler-friendly toy EVER) and Liam running after everyone just yelping and screeching to his hearts content.  I stood on the sideline and coached.  Loudly.

I was embracing the porcupine.

And as you can imagine, while embracing the porcupine I was jabbed often by sharp quills, but I did it.

I did forget that during this time Medman was upstairs trying to study.  He wasn't quite as happy about the proximity of the porcupine.  Oops.  I'm not even sure he's on board with embracing it.  I haven't asked yet.

But anyway, there's my goal.  Embrace the porcupine.

Today while Medman was at work we did cotton ball games (why, oh why, did I tell them we'd do this?)  It wasn't bad noise-wise until this game:

Yup, blow cotton balls across the floor (and around a hyper, cotton-ball-grabbing Liam) with straws.  Pure genius, right?  Do you know how much energy they expend in almost silent activity since they suck at blowing?

HOLY MOSES I FORGOT THOSE STRAWS MAKE AN EARSPLITTING WHISTLE WHEN YOU BLOW THROUGH THEM!

I video taped it.  But the noise is just too dreadful to post.  You're welcome.


So I'm choosing to think of this as good for me.   I'm going to have to tell myself that about 20 times a day, but I think it will be good for me.  Good for me to let others have fun even if I'm not perfectly comfortable.

Or maybe I'll just gather up those cotton balls and stuff them in my ears.

Embrace the porcupine.  Embrace it.