Overheard at the park, at the dinner table, in the car, at school, in the grocery store, in her bed, in the bathtub, and pretty much every other place we've been to lately:
"Laurel, would you PLEASE stop picking your nose and eating your boogers!!!"
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
How to teach your daughter to blow out her nose in 35 easy steps
1. After some gentle prodding from Ken and Grammy (and a few "What cute sons you have!" comments from strangers), agree that Laurel probably shouldn't wear Michael's boyish hand-me-down winter coat again this year.
2. The decision made to purchase new coat, stupidly decide that it must be done ASAP. As in that very day.
3. Actually, it can't even really wait until that afternoon - the coat must be purchased before Michael goes to school. Course, you're running late and only have fifteen minutes to stop at a store and buy it. WITH TWO KIDS IN TOW.
4. No problem. Pull into Target and race the kids inside.
5. Kids don't want to sit in the cart. Oh wait, Laurel wants to sit in the front. No she doesn't. Michael wants to sit in front. Not anymore. Michael wants to hang on the right side...the left side. Laurel wants to push the cart. No wait, she wants to sit in the front.
6. No wait - they want to run down the aisle shrieking.
7. Arrive at the winter clothing department and find the coats. They have only ONE COAT in the ENTIRE DEPARTMENT that even remotely fits your microscopic daughter.
8. Get frustrated and search on a different rack. No luck, but you do find a Super Cute hat to go with the coat.
9. On a roll, search for gloves. Find toddler snow gloves for $5. How cool is that?????
10. High off your success, start searching for gloves for Michael.
11. Hear the echo of kids excitedly banging a fire extinguisher against an electrical outlet and realize it's YOUR kids causing the ruckus.
12. Look at the clock and realize (gasp!) you've been in the store 25 minutes. Michael is now late for school.
13. Throw the screaming kids (because they want to continue hammering on the fire extinguisher) into the cart and race across the store towards checkout.
14. Stop to retrieve a container of pine nuts from your diaper bag and hand them to your daughter to shut her up.
15. "Ooooh....are those sports bras on sale???" Nevermind...I'll come back tomorrow.
16. Get to checkout and put the new coat and gloves on the conveyor belt. Notice that the Super Cute hat has disappeared from the cart. Oh well...I'll come back tomorrow.
17. As the clerk is ringing up the purchase, look over and notice Laurel has her index finger waaaay up her nose. Notice her funny expression.
18. Recall she is eating pine nuts.
19. Grab her head and tilt it towards the light so you can see up her nose.
20. Discover a pine nut wedged WAY up there.
21. Yell at Michael to leave the candy display alone.
22. Give the cashier your credit card.
23. Hold your hand over Laurel's mouth and tell her to blow. Feel her exhale out of her mouth into your hand.
24. Sign the credit slip.
25. Hold your hand over Laurel's mouth and right nostril. Tell her to blow. Feel her exhale out of her mouth.
26. Take the bags from the cashier and put them in your cart.
27. Tell your daughter NO HONEY, BLOW OUT YOUR NOSE.
28. Watch her exhale through her mouth.
29. Grab Michael and put him in the cart so he can't keep messing with the candy rack.
30. Cover her mouth and right nostril, tell her to BLOW, and demonstrate it for her.
31. She blows out her nose...a little.
32. Lift her head up and check to see if it's working. The pine nut is definitely closer, but not close enough to grab with a finger nail.
33. Pick up the newly-purchased coat Michael has just thrown onto the floor, put it back in the cart, and promise him if he touches it, he will NEVER EVER WATCH MICKEY MOUSE AGAIN.
33. Repeat step #30. And again.
34. Watch pine nut slowly emerge from nostril.
35. Give snotty pine nut to theidiot who just stood there cashier to dispose of.
2. The decision made to purchase new coat, stupidly decide that it must be done ASAP. As in that very day.
3. Actually, it can't even really wait until that afternoon - the coat must be purchased before Michael goes to school. Course, you're running late and only have fifteen minutes to stop at a store and buy it. WITH TWO KIDS IN TOW.
4. No problem. Pull into Target and race the kids inside.
5. Kids don't want to sit in the cart. Oh wait, Laurel wants to sit in the front. No she doesn't. Michael wants to sit in front. Not anymore. Michael wants to hang on the right side...the left side. Laurel wants to push the cart. No wait, she wants to sit in the front.
6. No wait - they want to run down the aisle shrieking.
7. Arrive at the winter clothing department and find the coats. They have only ONE COAT in the ENTIRE DEPARTMENT that even remotely fits your microscopic daughter.
8. Get frustrated and search on a different rack. No luck, but you do find a Super Cute hat to go with the coat.
9. On a roll, search for gloves. Find toddler snow gloves for $5. How cool is that?????
10. High off your success, start searching for gloves for Michael.
11. Hear the echo of kids excitedly banging a fire extinguisher against an electrical outlet and realize it's YOUR kids causing the ruckus.
12. Look at the clock and realize (gasp!) you've been in the store 25 minutes. Michael is now late for school.
13. Throw the screaming kids (because they want to continue hammering on the fire extinguisher) into the cart and race across the store towards checkout.
14. Stop to retrieve a container of pine nuts from your diaper bag and hand them to your daughter to shut her up.
15. "Ooooh....are those sports bras on sale???" Nevermind...I'll come back tomorrow.
16. Get to checkout and put the new coat and gloves on the conveyor belt. Notice that the Super Cute hat has disappeared from the cart. Oh well...I'll come back tomorrow.
17. As the clerk is ringing up the purchase, look over and notice Laurel has her index finger waaaay up her nose. Notice her funny expression.
18. Recall she is eating pine nuts.
19. Grab her head and tilt it towards the light so you can see up her nose.
20. Discover a pine nut wedged WAY up there.
21. Yell at Michael to leave the candy display alone.
22. Give the cashier your credit card.
23. Hold your hand over Laurel's mouth and tell her to blow. Feel her exhale out of her mouth into your hand.
24. Sign the credit slip.
25. Hold your hand over Laurel's mouth and right nostril. Tell her to blow. Feel her exhale out of her mouth.
26. Take the bags from the cashier and put them in your cart.
27. Tell your daughter NO HONEY, BLOW OUT YOUR NOSE.
28. Watch her exhale through her mouth.
29. Grab Michael and put him in the cart so he can't keep messing with the candy rack.
30. Cover her mouth and right nostril, tell her to BLOW, and demonstrate it for her.
31. She blows out her nose...a little.
32. Lift her head up and check to see if it's working. The pine nut is definitely closer, but not close enough to grab with a finger nail.
33. Pick up the newly-purchased coat Michael has just thrown onto the floor, put it back in the cart, and promise him if he touches it, he will NEVER EVER WATCH MICKEY MOUSE AGAIN.
33. Repeat step #30. And again.
34. Watch pine nut slowly emerge from nostril.
35. Give snotty pine nut to the
Saturday, November 08, 2008
On leaves and leaves and leaves
Even though I've bagged twelve bags of leaves in the past couple of days, and even though I've filled the yard debris container as full as it possibly can get, this morning we woke up and it was as if I hadn't done a thing. So we went outside and bagged some more.
Ahhh...I love the fall.
Daddy and Michael mowing up the leaves:
Have I mentioned how scared Laurel is of lawn mowers? Here's her exact reaction when Ken turned it on.
The blissful calm before the storm:
And then the reaction:
Needless to say, Laurel went inside for the rest of the morning. As for the boys, they worked on cleaning the leaves off the roof:
And you know, it's been five hours since we finished and you can't even tell we did anything.
Ahhh...I love the fall.
Ahhh...I love the fall.
Daddy and Michael mowing up the leaves:
Have I mentioned how scared Laurel is of lawn mowers? Here's her exact reaction when Ken turned it on.
The blissful calm before the storm:
And then the reaction:
Needless to say, Laurel went inside for the rest of the morning. As for the boys, they worked on cleaning the leaves off the roof:
And you know, it's been five hours since we finished and you can't even tell we did anything.
Ahhh...I love the fall.
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Speaking of traumas...
...I should mention Laurel's new favorite story. We went trick or treating this year with Heidi's family and her neighborhood is MUCH nicer than ours (read: better candy and more of it). Some of the neighbors really had fun with the holiday and decorated their yards like mini-haunted houses: mechanized spiders, large vampire jaws you had to step through to ring the doorbell, motion-activated skeletons lying on the grass, etc. It was VERY cool.
Anyway, a couple houses had smoke machines on their walkways, and as you approached the front door a plume of smoke would shoot out and swirl around your feet. I thought it was loads of fun, but Laurel was not too thrilled by it. In fact she saw the smoke, immediately associated it with Evil Sprinklers, Evil Showers, and Evil Rain and leapt into my arms for protection.
"Honey, it's just smoke," I comforted her.
"SMOKE!!!" Laurel repeated, wide-eyed.
Now, Laurel LOVED trick or treating. It took a couple houses for her to get the whole "knock on door and receive candy" concept, but once she did she was prepared to visit every house in Oregon. And god forbid the person put the candy directly into her bag without Laurel seeing it - she would stand there and ask for candy until the person gave her a second piece just to get rid of her.
But even knowing she could get candy, and that candy was of course the Greatest Thing On Earth, when we approached one of the last houses that evening she saw a smoke machine and reversed course. She was so petrified I picked her up and raced her across the street to head off the trauma.
"Smoke!!!!" Laurel wailed, vehemently pointing towards the house.
It's now been a full week since Halloween. Last night we were talking about it and saying things like, "Remember when you went trick or treating? Remember when you knocked on the door and they gave you candy?"
Michael jumped up and down and excitedly shrieked at the top of his lungs, "CANDY!!!!!"
Laurel started to do the same, but then stopped. "Smoke," she solemnly said.
Anyway, a couple houses had smoke machines on their walkways, and as you approached the front door a plume of smoke would shoot out and swirl around your feet. I thought it was loads of fun, but Laurel was not too thrilled by it. In fact she saw the smoke, immediately associated it with Evil Sprinklers, Evil Showers, and Evil Rain and leapt into my arms for protection.
"Honey, it's just smoke," I comforted her.
"SMOKE!!!" Laurel repeated, wide-eyed.
Now, Laurel LOVED trick or treating. It took a couple houses for her to get the whole "knock on door and receive candy" concept, but once she did she was prepared to visit every house in Oregon. And god forbid the person put the candy directly into her bag without Laurel seeing it - she would stand there and ask for candy until the person gave her a second piece just to get rid of her.
But even knowing she could get candy, and that candy was of course the Greatest Thing On Earth, when we approached one of the last houses that evening she saw a smoke machine and reversed course. She was so petrified I picked her up and raced her across the street to head off the trauma.
"Smoke!!!!" Laurel wailed, vehemently pointing towards the house.
It's now been a full week since Halloween. Last night we were talking about it and saying things like, "Remember when you went trick or treating? Remember when you knocked on the door and they gave you candy?"
Michael jumped up and down and excitedly shrieked at the top of his lungs, "CANDY!!!!!"
Laurel started to do the same, but then stopped. "Smoke," she solemnly said.
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
Teddy goes for a swim
Now that Michael is showing the beginnings of being able to tell a story - like riding the pony at the pumpkin patch - I've been hyping up anything exciting that happens to him and encouraging him to tell people about it.
"What happened at the pumpkin patch, Michael?" I'll prod him. "Tell Tasha what you did."
Silence.
"Did you go to the pumpkin patch?"
Silence...then, "Yes!"
"What did you do there?"
Silence.
"Did you ride on something at the pumpkin patch?"
Silence.
"Michael, what did you ride at the pumpkin patch? What did you sit on?"
And eventually he'll answer, "Pony!!!" And then usually he'll elaborate and say, "Pony fun!" And then he'll relive the excitement of that moment all over again. It's very cute to watch.
Being that pony rides are the end all be all of greatness, I thought we'd utilize that story for at least a month or so. We'd tell all the therapists and teachers, the neighbors, our friends...pony stories can get a lot of mileage. Unfortunately, within a week of said pony ride, tragedy struck. And the scope and magnificence of the tragedy was such that the pony ride has been all but forgotten.
Last Friday while we were walking at the park the kids were really captivated by a creek. It wasn't very large, maybe five feet across, but the water was somewhat deep and flowing pretty noisily. Whenever our path crossed the creek's the kids would stop and watch the water go by. It was mesmerizing.
"Water!!" they exclaimed over and over.
It was while we were standing above an embankment watching the creek go by that it happened. I don't know what the catalyst was, but I suddenly looked over and saw Michael's teddy bear tumbling down towards the water. There was nothing I could do; the bear hit the surface and headed downstream.
Michael began to shriek, but I didn't really hear him. Actually, my first thought as I watched Teddy flow away from us was that perhaps it was for the best. I mean, Michael is almost four years old, perhaps it was time he lost his bear. Then I remembered the backup bear Aunt Erin had given us a couple years ago. Was it still in the closet? Sure, it lacked ripped fur and other imperfections brought on by years of daily interaction with a toddler, but perhaps Michael wouldn't care. Perhaps a Shiny! New! Bear! would be just as wonderful. Even preferable.
The old teddy bear was moving pretty fast though, and I realized I couldn't afford to spend time debating my next step. Big underground sewage pipes were a hundred feet ahead of us - if I didn't act quickly the bear would be gone forever. I took off my camera, laid it on the ground, and stumbled down the embankment into the creek. Did I mention the water was about twelve inches deep? And that I was wearing my NEW Nike cross-trainers? You know, the ones I had only worn TWICE? Ugh - the things we do for our kids.
I landed in the water with a splash and started making my way after the bear. The thing was moving fast, though, and there were big branches lying across the creek obstructing my chase. I quickly realized I was going to have to haul butt if I was going to catch up and lunged through the foliage until I was able to grab the bear. Triumphant, I turned around to show the kids I had it but by that point I was so far downstream the kids couldn't see me from the walkway - which of course made my heart leap out of my chest because it meant I also couldn't see THEM. I raced back along the creek until I got to the clearing. Michael was a MESS. I don't think I'd ever seen him so panicked and devastated before. It was almost exactly how I imagine I would act if one of THEM had fallen into the creek and floated away.
Thank god I had gone after it.
I reached up and threw the bear back onto the path. I thought Michael would freak out that it held two pounds of water and was dripping leaves, but Michael scooped the bear up and held him so tenderly. But even though he knew everything was OK, he couldn't stop crying. I hauled myself back up the muddy embankment, running shoes waterlogged, jeans saturated up to my knees. I surveyed the situation and decided our "fun excursion to the park" was officially over. We headed to the car. The whole way there, Michael repeated over and over to me, "Teddy fall down. Teddy all wet."
"Yes," I told him, squishing in mynew cross-trainers.
"Teddy washing machine," Michael said.
"Yes, Michael," I agreed. "When we get home we'll put Teddy in the washing machine and get him all clean."
So that's Michael's new story: "Teddy fall down. All wet. Teddy washing machine."
The boy and his bear, minutes before The Big Event:
"What happened at the pumpkin patch, Michael?" I'll prod him. "Tell Tasha what you did."
Silence.
"Did you go to the pumpkin patch?"
Silence...then, "Yes!"
"What did you do there?"
Silence.
"Did you ride on something at the pumpkin patch?"
Silence.
"Michael, what did you ride at the pumpkin patch? What did you sit on?"
And eventually he'll answer, "Pony!!!" And then usually he'll elaborate and say, "Pony fun!" And then he'll relive the excitement of that moment all over again. It's very cute to watch.
Being that pony rides are the end all be all of greatness, I thought we'd utilize that story for at least a month or so. We'd tell all the therapists and teachers, the neighbors, our friends...pony stories can get a lot of mileage. Unfortunately, within a week of said pony ride, tragedy struck. And the scope and magnificence of the tragedy was such that the pony ride has been all but forgotten.
Last Friday while we were walking at the park the kids were really captivated by a creek. It wasn't very large, maybe five feet across, but the water was somewhat deep and flowing pretty noisily. Whenever our path crossed the creek's the kids would stop and watch the water go by. It was mesmerizing.
"Water!!" they exclaimed over and over.
It was while we were standing above an embankment watching the creek go by that it happened. I don't know what the catalyst was, but I suddenly looked over and saw Michael's teddy bear tumbling down towards the water. There was nothing I could do; the bear hit the surface and headed downstream.
Michael began to shriek, but I didn't really hear him. Actually, my first thought as I watched Teddy flow away from us was that perhaps it was for the best. I mean, Michael is almost four years old, perhaps it was time he lost his bear. Then I remembered the backup bear Aunt Erin had given us a couple years ago. Was it still in the closet? Sure, it lacked ripped fur and other imperfections brought on by years of daily interaction with a toddler, but perhaps Michael wouldn't care. Perhaps a Shiny! New! Bear! would be just as wonderful. Even preferable.
The old teddy bear was moving pretty fast though, and I realized I couldn't afford to spend time debating my next step. Big underground sewage pipes were a hundred feet ahead of us - if I didn't act quickly the bear would be gone forever. I took off my camera, laid it on the ground, and stumbled down the embankment into the creek. Did I mention the water was about twelve inches deep? And that I was wearing my NEW Nike cross-trainers? You know, the ones I had only worn TWICE? Ugh - the things we do for our kids.
I landed in the water with a splash and started making my way after the bear. The thing was moving fast, though, and there were big branches lying across the creek obstructing my chase. I quickly realized I was going to have to haul butt if I was going to catch up and lunged through the foliage until I was able to grab the bear. Triumphant, I turned around to show the kids I had it but by that point I was so far downstream the kids couldn't see me from the walkway - which of course made my heart leap out of my chest because it meant I also couldn't see THEM. I raced back along the creek until I got to the clearing. Michael was a MESS. I don't think I'd ever seen him so panicked and devastated before. It was almost exactly how I imagine I would act if one of THEM had fallen into the creek and floated away.
Thank god I had gone after it.
I reached up and threw the bear back onto the path. I thought Michael would freak out that it held two pounds of water and was dripping leaves, but Michael scooped the bear up and held him so tenderly. But even though he knew everything was OK, he couldn't stop crying. I hauled myself back up the muddy embankment, running shoes waterlogged, jeans saturated up to my knees. I surveyed the situation and decided our "fun excursion to the park" was officially over. We headed to the car. The whole way there, Michael repeated over and over to me, "Teddy fall down. Teddy all wet."
"Yes," I told him, squishing in my
"Teddy washing machine," Michael said.
"Yes, Michael," I agreed. "When we get home we'll put Teddy in the washing machine and get him all clean."
So that's Michael's new story: "Teddy fall down. All wet. Teddy washing machine."
.........
The boy and his bear, minutes before The Big Event:
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