7am this morning, while I'm still waking up over a cup of tea, and wondering what is up with all the fog outside....
WeeBee: Mommy, can I have a sticker?
Mommy: What?
WeeBee: A sticker! (smiles his "I know you're going to say no, but don't I look cute?" smile)
Mommy: No.
WeeBee: Pleeeease?
Mommy: What for?
WeeBee: A sticker!
Mommy: Stickers are for doing things. Like going to the potty. Or cleaning up your toys.
WeeBee: Or saving Baby Lowly?
Mommy: Ummm...yeah...
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Nothing Like Waking Up In the Morning
To your toddler screaming, "I'm a dinosaur! Roaaaar! I'm a cow! Moooo! Roarrrr! Mooooo! Cow! Dinosaur! Mooooooo! Roooaaaarrr! Maaaa! Mommy!" And then continuing in this theme for the next hour.
I need to find some stronger coffee.
I need to find some stronger coffee.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
I Know, I Know, I Should Post More Often
But I've been working on two awesome craft projects at night after the kids go to bed, which is normally my writing time. Pictures are coming, but for now I'll be all mysterious.
What's new here? Baby Lowly can climb the stairs. WeeBee is still falling down them. My next house will have a slide/elevator/trampoline. For now, I'm doomed.
Speaking of doom and despair, WeeBee is insisting that Baby Lowly's eyes burn him. Whenever he has a whiney crying fit because he wants something, Lowly watches him and grins. He then throws himself to the ground, arms covering his face, and yells, "NO, LOWS, IT BURNS! Mommy, Lowly's burning me!" Which of course makes Lowly crack up even more, because nothing entertains her like WeeBee theatrics. No idea where he got this from, but I feel like I'm being followed around by Gollum. If he starts saying "precious" I'm going to freak out...
What's new here? Baby Lowly can climb the stairs. WeeBee is still falling down them. My next house will have a slide/elevator/trampoline. For now, I'm doomed.
Speaking of doom and despair, WeeBee is insisting that Baby Lowly's eyes burn him. Whenever he has a whiney crying fit because he wants something, Lowly watches him and grins. He then throws himself to the ground, arms covering his face, and yells, "NO, LOWS, IT BURNS! Mommy, Lowly's burning me!" Which of course makes Lowly crack up even more, because nothing entertains her like WeeBee theatrics. No idea where he got this from, but I feel like I'm being followed around by Gollum. If he starts saying "precious" I'm going to freak out...
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Favorite Shirt
Over the last week or so WeeBee has been trying to be all independent and dress himself. I used to put two outfits out for the day and let him choose which one he wanted to wear, but now he pulls his little step stool over to his dresser, and ransacks the drawers until he finds what he wants. He has very definite ideas about what clothes go together, and it's not nearly as haphazard as I would have thought. "Baseball pants" go with "baseball shirt" and "soccer socks." "Favorite pants" (camo fleece pants, and the only pair I can more or less guarantee he won't strip off in the middle of the day) go with "orange shirt." And, as I learned today, "comfy pants" (khakis) go with "favorite shirt."
It was in the 60's today, and WeeBee was going stir crazy, so I told him I would take him for a walk. As usual, by 3pm he was running around in a tshirt and diaper, the pants he had insisted on wearing this morning having been rolled up in a ball somewhere. That lead to the following conversation.
Mommy: WeeBee, what happened to your pants.
WeeBee: (in a singsong voice): I don't knowwww.
Mommy: Well, go find them, you can't go outside without pants on.
WeeBee: I want brown comfy pants.
Mommy: (Running through how many brown pants he has and which ones he could be talking about) Ok. Well, favorite pants are in the dryer. Do you want those and your orange shirt?
WeeBee: Noooo! Comfy pants! And favorite shirt!
Mommy: (now completely confused) Which one is favorite shirt?
WeeBee: You knowwwww! (waves arms around) It has two arms! And it goes over my tummy!
At this point I turned away so he wouldn't see me crack up.
Well, it turns out "favorite shirt" is his flannel shirt that he wears when it's very cold. Silly Mommy, not realizing it was perfect for 60 degree weather, and comfy pants...
It was in the 60's today, and WeeBee was going stir crazy, so I told him I would take him for a walk. As usual, by 3pm he was running around in a tshirt and diaper, the pants he had insisted on wearing this morning having been rolled up in a ball somewhere. That lead to the following conversation.
Mommy: WeeBee, what happened to your pants.
WeeBee: (in a singsong voice): I don't knowwww.
Mommy: Well, go find them, you can't go outside without pants on.
WeeBee: I want brown comfy pants.
Mommy: (Running through how many brown pants he has and which ones he could be talking about) Ok. Well, favorite pants are in the dryer. Do you want those and your orange shirt?
WeeBee: Noooo! Comfy pants! And favorite shirt!
Mommy: (now completely confused) Which one is favorite shirt?
WeeBee: You knowwwww! (waves arms around) It has two arms! And it goes over my tummy!
At this point I turned away so he wouldn't see me crack up.
Well, it turns out "favorite shirt" is his flannel shirt that he wears when it's very cold. Silly Mommy, not realizing it was perfect for 60 degree weather, and comfy pants...
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Look What I Made!
I learned to crochet when I was 8 or 9 years old. Nothing fancy - a hat for my doll, and a series of scarves that I'm sure my sisters dreaded getting for Christmas. Over time I unfortunately forgot how to make hats, and stuck to scarves, blankets, and anything that was a rectangle/square shape.
Which brings us to today, and the giant pile of yarn that my husband has quite rightfully been bugging me to either use or get rid of. I had been puttering around on Pinterest and some of the other blogs on blogspot, generally in awe of everyone else's crafting abilities. (Have you seen some of that stuff?!?) Anyway, I finally decided either I could spend the rest of my life crocheting scarves and wishing I could make something more interesting, or I could muddle through and experiment a bit. I mean, it's yarn I'm working with here, not gold. It's not like I can't rip the whole thing apart and start over again.
After some more puttering on Pinterest, I decided to make wrist warmers. I figured I might as well start with Lowly - she's the smallest, and if I was going to have to redo the thing eight times, I'd rather do it on a small scale. Besides, they looked relatively easy, and I was tired of going on a hunt for the mitten she had flung off somewhere in the car so she could wiggle her fingers. This way her hands would be relatively warm, and I would look less like the mildly unorganized mother that I am.
The great thing about crocheting for a baby is that they can't tell you your work looks hideous. The not so great thing is that they won't stay still long enough for you to measure anything, so I had to sort of eyeball the sizing. Still, I think they're rather cute...
WeeBee apparently agrees, because he wants me to make a pair for him next. So more pictures to follow!
Which brings us to today, and the giant pile of yarn that my husband has quite rightfully been bugging me to either use or get rid of. I had been puttering around on Pinterest and some of the other blogs on blogspot, generally in awe of everyone else's crafting abilities. (Have you seen some of that stuff?!?) Anyway, I finally decided either I could spend the rest of my life crocheting scarves and wishing I could make something more interesting, or I could muddle through and experiment a bit. I mean, it's yarn I'm working with here, not gold. It's not like I can't rip the whole thing apart and start over again.
After some more puttering on Pinterest, I decided to make wrist warmers. I figured I might as well start with Lowly - she's the smallest, and if I was going to have to redo the thing eight times, I'd rather do it on a small scale. Besides, they looked relatively easy, and I was tired of going on a hunt for the mitten she had flung off somewhere in the car so she could wiggle her fingers. This way her hands would be relatively warm, and I would look less like the mildly unorganized mother that I am.
The great thing about crocheting for a baby is that they can't tell you your work looks hideous. The not so great thing is that they won't stay still long enough for you to measure anything, so I had to sort of eyeball the sizing. Still, I think they're rather cute...
WeeBee apparently agrees, because he wants me to make a pair for him next. So more pictures to follow!
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Selective Command of the English Language
Why does it never fail that WeeBee, who uses words like "buoy" and "common sense" in the correct context, will suddenly pretend he has no idea what "WeeBee, please pass me the box of wipes!" means when I'm elbow deep in his sister's exploded poopy diaper?
I suppose I should get used to this.
I suppose I should get used to this.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Happy Valentine's Day
Forgot to get a gift for that special someone? Never fear, the Bronx Zoo has got your back.
Nothing Says Love Like Hissing Roaches
Personally, I'm waiting for the MTA to start offering to name giant killer rats after your loved ones, but that's just me, my twisted sense of humor, and inherent distrust of rats brought on by reading Harry Potter at an impressionable age. But let's save my list of phobias and suspicions for another day.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Nothing Says Love Like Hissing Roaches
Personally, I'm waiting for the MTA to start offering to name giant killer rats after your loved ones, but that's just me, my twisted sense of humor, and inherent distrust of rats brought on by reading Harry Potter at an impressionable age. But let's save my list of phobias and suspicions for another day.
Happy Valentine's Day!
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