Caity's Songs

Caity is starting to take after her father... she's making up random songs. Here's the gem from today:

I made poopers!
They're so stinky
They're so stinky
- Just like you.

And although this one is not entirely of her own creation, I had to include this one as well:

Jingle bells, jingle bells
Jingle all the way
I'm not bored
Yes, you are
Jingle all the way!

Musical Influences

Just now I overheard Caity singing P!nk's "So What?". She doesn't know any of the words, so she makes up her own. An attentive listener can still tell what the song is, though. I love how my frequent 95.5 listenings have influenced my child's developing brain.

Stuck on the Sweets

Caity and Jamie went to visit Santa at the mall last week. Jamie, as anyone could have predicted, was a little perturbed by being slung into a random man's lap. Caity was just fine. After I rescued Jamie from Santa's vile clutches, Santa was able to turn his attention to Caity. "And what would you like Santa to bring you for Christmas?" he asked her. Now, can you guess what she asked for? Did she ask for toys, games, or, perhaps, a special doll? No. Looking happily into Santa's eyes, she said, "Trick or treat!" I think that was possibly the first time EVER that Santa had been asked to bring Halloween for Christmas. His eyebrows disappeared into his snowy gray hair, and he looked at me for confirmation of Caity's sanity. "She really liked trick-or-treating," was all I could manage, feeling like I had somehow failed at mothering.

Time Warp

Oops. Where did November go? We appear to have fast-forwarded through that month. Ah, well. I'm sure nothing interesting happened, anyway. Except that Jamie said his first real word ("Up"). And he got some more teeth. And Caity had several more days of school. And Michigan lost a few games of football. ...So we'll move on to December.

Happy Halloween

Tonight Caity went trick-or-treating for the first time ever. She was not shy about rapping solidly on people's doors and shouting, "I'm a princess!" to the hapless soul handing out the candy. One woman that a friend of ours knew invited us in for a bit; Caity wasted no time in finding a basket of kitty toys and dropping one into her stash. "No, honey, that's catnip - you don't want that," the woman informed her.

Jamie pretty much refused to wear his teddy bear "head"; his unruly mop of hair kind of looks like bear fur anyway, so it really didn't make much difference. He also did not get any candy but we're hoping he's too little to realize what he's missed out on...

Jamie

Recently Jamie has been working on an important skill. It is a very, very difficult skill to master. This is evident by the thoughtful look on his face as well as the time it takes for him to begin. First, he stops dead in his tracks. Next, he thinks really hard. Then, ever so slowly, he... walks backwards.

You thought I was talking about him making a deposit in his diaper, didn't you? Hah. Got you.

Bad Mommy

Yesterday, out of the blue, Caity asked: "Mommy, are you hot or cold?"
I thought about it, then replied, "You know, I think I'm okay."
She furrowed her brow and shook her head. "NO. You're NOT okay," she huffed.
Amused, I asked, "I'm not okay?"
Her response was immediate: "No, you're BAD."

E-Mail

Lately Caity has taken to checking her e-mail. The small fact that she doesn't actually have an e-mail account doesn't sway her. She'll head down the stairs and say, "I have to check my e-mail" and that's my cue to fire up Word. Then, in a new document, she'll type things like:

cat
dog
12345678900987654321

And, my personal favorite:

hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

You get the idea.

Dangerous

We were driving home from church today and the song "Dangerous" by Kardinal Offishall came on the radio. As you can most likely tell from the artist's name, this song is not something Mary Poppins would sing and is probably not a tune that small children should be listening to. In spite of this, Caity has heard the song a few times; this became apparent when she started singing along with the chorus. I found this to be entertaining and was treated to a frosty look from Greg.

Caity's Song

This is from a while ago, but I am clearly behind on posts.

Caity was coloring happily one day and singing to herself. Here are some of the lyrics:

It's pancake time
I don't like pancakes
I do like pancakes
I like to play in the jungle.

How pancakes and jungles got connected in her brain is beyond me, but it made me smile.

Traversing to Traverse City

Greg had some business meetings in Traverse City last week. Instead of staying home with the kids, poking my eyes out with sharp sticks each day he was gone, I elected to go with him. The kids thus came along too. My mom and her husband were invited to join us as additional kid-wranglers; we tried to disguise the journey as a "vacation" but they were not fooled (they came with us anyway).

It wasn't a particularly horrible getaway but it wasn't all fun and games, either (at least, not for the grown-ups). Jamie took it upon himself to explore every last crevice in our rented condo, which, of course, was not child-proofed in the slightest. Caity decided to hop, skip and jump at every opportunity - I really hoped that there were no guests in the unit below ours. Not ones to waste the day away, both of them were up bright and early each morning, in spite of my attempts to telepathically send them back to sleep and the fact that the clock read 6:25.

From the kids' perspective, the best parts of the trip were probably the sandy beach and the outdoor, non-heated pool; I think the adults were most pleased by the winery we visited...

Stylin'

Jamie was the recipient of a complimentary hairstyle today at playgroup. Note the firm grip that the stylist has on his shirt.

School Daze

Caity's first full day of preschool is this coming Tuesday. In an effort to stimulate class discussion and interest in their peers, all of the students in her class have been asked to draw some pictures of their family and answer some basic questions about themselves. One would think that this is, like, the easiest assignment ever, but from my standpoint it was about as bad as differential equations. Caity refused to answer most questions; instead of drawing anything resembling her family she drew blobs with swirls all over them. "What are those?" I asked her, pointing to the swirls. "Eyes, LOTS of eyes," she responded, swirling even more eyes onto our heads. Giving up on the portrait, I forced to her tell me the answer to this question: "What do you like best about yourself?" Her answer: "Red".

Something tells me that it'll only get worse. The teacher in me will most likely NOT enjoy helping Caity with homework in the future.

Another First...

... Jamie took his first steps today.

No Bribery Involved!

Yesterday, it happened for the first time - Caity climbed into my lap, put her arms around my neck, and announced, "I love you."

Future Olympian

Today Jamie decided his goal in life was to empty the magazine rack. He did this by grabbing the magazines one by one and tossing them on the floor with a scream of victory. If you have ever watched an athlete throwing a discus, I'm sure you can easily imagine what he sounded like, because it was exactly the same. He didn't get quite the distance they achieve, though. And he made somewhat more of a mess.

Overlooked?

So, with all the drama surrounding Michael Phelps and his 8 gold medals, has anyone bothered to notice the attractiveness of Aaron Peirsol? See him there, on the far right. Yum.

Wiggles 101

Greg, Caity and I went to see The Wiggles at the Palace on Tuesday. We brought the tickets, some spending money and a camera; one would have thought that was all we needed for an enjoyable night out. Little did we know, but we were woefully unprepared for the concert. So, for the health and well-being of those on the verge of rushing out and attending this event, here are the items you should consider bringing:
1) Roses to give to Dorothy, the green-and-yellow spotted dinosaur,
2) Bones and/or treats for Wags the Dog
3) Signs to hold up, which would then be read out loud by the Wiggles themselves for all to enjoy.
Having any (or all) of these would have significantly added to our Wiggle-watching experience. The best we can do now is relish the memory of having Murray (the red Wiggle) walk so close to our aisle seats that we were able to breathe in his exhaled carbon monoxide.

Not Your Average Frosty

Caity was amusing herself in the basement while I constructed some cards. She found the hamper-like bin that we store her cardboard bricks in and emptied it of said bricks. She then placed it upside down on her head and wandered around in circles. "Look, I'm a snowman!" she announced as she came over to where I was sitting. "Look at you!" I replied. "Do you have a name?" I continued, bending back to my work (I am very engaged in mothering, as you can tell). "Alien!" She responded. This caused me to look back up at her. "Alien?" I questioned, not sure I'd heard right, "Your snowman name is 'Alien'?" "Yes!" She said with confidence. Then she wandered away, hamper still on head.

May The Fork Be With You

Jamie has recently become obsessed with toy forks, spoons and knives. He is very particular about carrying one (or more) of them around with him at all times. At church on Sunday a pair of elderly ladies in the pew behind us were commenting on his fork:
"Oh, how cute. He has a fork," said the first.
"He what?" asked the other, obviously a little hard of hearing.
"He has a FORK!" the first woman hissed.
Jamie fusses and cries if he drops his fork or if it's taken away during meals (I know that doesn't make sense - to take a fork away during a meal - but he just gets it all icky with half-chewed food when he puts it in his mouth). He also beams with pleasure when it's given back. Is his security object, indeed, a fork? He'd rather have that than a soft blanket, a well-loved stuffed animal, or a soothing pacifier? It's somewhat disturbing.

Ages Again

Later, Caity approached me and asked, "What number does bunny have?" I thought, Bunny? We don't have a bunny (We'd already established that the kitty has the number 6). So I asked her which bunny. She said, "That bunny," and pointed behind me. A little startled at the thought of a random bunny in my basement, I turned and saw what she was indicating - a forlorn stuffed animal bunny, facedown on the floor. "Umm... that bunny has the number 1," I said, fumbling for the correct response. I have to confess that I was somewhat insulted that she asked about numbers for everyone she knew, including Mr. Lonely Stuffed Bunny, but she never asked about ME...

Ages

Just now Caity and I were talking about how old people are. Rather than asking, "How old is ___?" Caity chooses to phrase it as: "What number does ___ have?" So we talked about how she has the number 3, and Jamie has the number 1. Then she asked, "What number does Daddy have?" I told her 33, which she was impressed by. So now if you ask her how old Daddy is, she will cry triumphantly, "Firty-free!"

Dental Drama

Caity had her first dentist appointment this morning. It went about as well as I'd expected it would - hesitation, followed by crying, followed by screaming. To give her credit, though, she did better than many kids (or so sayeth the dentist), and didn't bite or kick anyone. She cheered right up when offered a selection from the "prize drawer" and was all smiles from there on out. I have to mention that while we were leaving, another unfortunate soul was screaming his lungs out in a back room... and this was AFTER he'd been sedated. They might want to consider investing in some better sound-proofing technology; it's probably not a good idea for kids in the waiting room to hear what's in store for them.

Jamie Gives Us the Finger

Being the ever-anxious mother that I am, I have decided to worry about Jamie's lack of vocabulary. Currently, he uses no words; instead, he employs a Syllable Array to remark upon things: D! Bah! Bow! This is cute and all, but the SAT looms a mere 16 years away and there's no time like the present to start cramming for it.

To start the lessons, during dinner last night we began with a simple query: "Where's Dada?". The correct response to this would have been "Dada!" (we also would have accepted "Da"). Dada happened to be sitting directly across from Jamie, so we hoped this visual cue would help provide the answer. Instead of replying, though, Jamie simply pointed at Greg.

This was not quite the answer we were looking for, but we felt it was an acceptable response and praised Jamie accordingly.

The 4th!

Today is the 4th of July - historically, it is a day to celebrate the triumph of our ancestors over the tyrannical British. This celebration typically takes the form of fireworks, BBQs, parties and carnivals. So what are we doing right now? Eating stale crackers & cheese and watching "The Empire Strikes Back".

Jamie turned 1 yesterday. The occasion was marked by him repeatedly demonstrating his new trick - grinding and clacking his teeth together. The sound he produces is truly spine-shivering.

A Typical Conversation

Yesterday, my neighbor, Teisha, came over to borrow something. Here is the conversation Caity and I had after she left:

Caity: "She's going to put Sarah down for a nap." (Sarah is Teisha's 16 month-old).
Me: "Oh, probably."
Caity: "Sarah's been crying."
Me: "Yep, you're probably right." (I've lost interest already.)
Caity: "And there's a raccoon in the house!"
Me: ?

Horrifying Delight

So it's a bad thing when you finally get around to checking on the baby and you discover him halfway up a flight of stairs. The baby, clearly, is delighted with his accomplishment; you are horrified that while baby was one misstep away from a severe head injury, you were admiring your new top in the mirror.

Road Trip!

We're leaving tomorrow on a road trip. Destination = Kentucky. Likelihood of arriving in one piece, sanity intact = minimal. You'll just have to tune in again to see if there are any further posts...

Birds of Prey

Today we drove around and did some errands. As we were getting back into the car after one of our stops, Caity commanded, "Look at the eagles over there. Look at the eagles." Crouched over the stroller, fussing with straps that were tangled around Jamie, I couldn't see what she was talking about and just ignored her. I mean, eagles? No way. But she was quite insistent so I paused in my strap detanglement and stood up. There, about 15 feet across the parking lot, were two birds - a seagull and a sparrow - arguing over a piece of smushed bagel. "That's a seagull, Caity," I informed her, bending once more to my strap issue. "Oh, a seagull," she said. "Not an eagle." No. Not an eagle.

A Lesson in Being Neighborly

Ah, how I loathe the cretins who live across the street. Tonight, they decided to partake in a fun activity called "Swap the Subwoofers". This consisted of them hauling a monstrous speaker out of the trunk of car #1, setting it on the street right across from my house, and "testing" it to "make sure it worked" before painfully lifting it back into the trunk of car #2. The testing phase was the most fun for me - the resultant bass shook the dishes in my cupboards. Instead of boiling out of the house at the first thump of sound, as I dearly wanted to do, I forced myself to wait for 10 minutes to see if they tired of their testing (and would then, hopefully, go somewhere really far away). Of course, the testing was much more intensive than a simple minute or two of listening to loud bass; clearly the worthiness of the speaker could only be evaluated after everyone's eardrums burst. I did not intend to wait that long, so I finally went out to inform them that I was trying to get my kids to bed (it was 9 pm) and could they please find a different time and place for this?????

I know they don't A) work, B) go to bed before 4 am, or C) have meaningful lives, but some of the rest of us DO... is it so hard to keep that in mind?

Cake and Ice Cream

Greg made a cake so we'd have something tasty to serve when his family came over after Jamie's baptism yesterday. Well, only his parents ended up coming, so we're now left with oodles of cake. This is to Caity's liking, of course. Tonight I mentioned that we'd have cake in "a little bit" which one would think means 5 minutes or so but is actually closer to 60 (due to my internet demands, you know). Luckily, she is not aware of this. She did have some questions, though:
"Cake and ice cream?" - Yes.
"Put the cake in the spoon?" - Yes, we'll put the cake in the spoon.
"Is it delicious?" - Yes, it is delicious.

Regret

The kids and I took a walk to the library this morning. I made a point of walking past the dive-bombing robin's nest in the hopes of experiencing the thrill of being attacked, but she and her babies were gone. I suppose I can't expect them to linger there forever, dive-bombing all who pass, but I was still saddened by their departure, and somehow felt a sense of loss. The young ones DO grow up fast.

So Much to Blog - So Little Time!

I know I haven't posted an entry for roughly 89476589 days... life has been very, very busy. Caity came down with the plague over the weekend and has been running a fever for numerous days. She also has a lovely, hacking cough. Jamie has decided that naps are for babies, which of course makes sense because he is the ripe old age of almost-11 months. Who can expect him to nap when there is some army-crawling to do? Oh, and of course we must make time for clapping (his new skill). So between the fevers, napless days and 80 events coming up this weekend that the house should really be cleaned for, I find I have little time to blog (not that I'm actually spending my time cleaning the house - I don't want to mislead you). Eventually, I should provide details about Caity's 3rd birthday, our new "it's in my backyard so of course it's organic" garden, and what the kitty has been up to, but that will all have to wait until later. When I return from my fugue state.

The Divebombing Robin

I took the kids for a walk the other day. I was strolling innocently along when suddenly I was besieged by a furious robin! It swooped low over my head, squawking in a menacing manner as I ducked under its razor-sharp beak and outstretched talons. Shaken, I watched it land on an overhead wire, then continued on my way. I had taken but a few steps when it dove again! Startled, I ducked once more and watched it land in the branches of a nearby tree. Something was clearly afoot (or awing, in this case). After searching in vain for quite some time, I finally spotted what I was looking for - the robin's nest, tucked away in the support of a fence. Which I was standing approximately 10 inches from.

Of course I had to come back later with the camera and rile the bird up all over again.

The robin keeps an eye on the unwary traveler.

She attacks!

The nest, as seen from the innocent traveler's viewpoint.

The nest, as seen from a pesky voyeur's viewpoint.

Whoops

My tolerance for Jamie's wild hair finally reached its limit last night. I seized a pair of scissors and attacked his mop of curls without regard to style, length, or any kind of sense usually used when cutting hair. When the fever of chopping frenzy finally faded, I realized that I had given my son a cut very similar to that of Brandon Walsh. If you don't know who that is, then you did not spend your formative years in the '90s. If you DO know who that is, then you are probably sighing with disgust. Oops.

Cleaning Up is Hard to Do

So between Caity and Jamie, the "fake food" from the "fake kitchen" ended up scattered all over the house. I asked Caity to please clean it up. Then I ordered her to clean it up. Then I threatened her with a time out if she didn't clean it up. She.... ever...... so...... slowly..... put two of the fake vegetables in the storage bin, then went over and sat herself down on the stairs. Apparently, putting herself in time out was preferable to rounding up 956978549 small plastic food items. I know exactly how she felt... after all was said and done, guess who got to do the cleaning up? Sigh.

Some Cute Pics

Not much to ramble on about today. Well, I suppose I could mention something that someone has been doing again - after many months of not doing it - but that's really all I can say because the last time I even slightly referenced it in a post, that certain someone stopped doing that certain activity and I was bitterly disappointed. So if you have no idea what I'm talking about, maybe that's good. The less said, the better.

Anyway, I have been taking lots of kid pictures. And they are all lurking on my computer (the pictures, I mean, not the kids). The chances of me actually getting them printed are small, but the likelihood of me doing anything with the pictures (besides stuffing them in a box somewhere) is even more slim, so I'd better post some here or they will never be viewed. And then, you might ask, what would be the point of taking so many? Indeed.

Jamie's Recent Adventures

Okay, I admit it. It's time to stop doing all of those things that parenting advice books strongly suggest you never do.

Item #1 - Never leave your child unattended on a changing table, even if he's strapped down.
Both Greg and I have been guilty of this. We would change a dirty diaper, strap Jamie down, then go to dispose of the diaper and wash our hands. I knew I wasn't supposed to, and I probably would not endorse such behavior if asked about it, but it was easy and I was quick about it - what could possibly happen? Well, yesterday I returned from my hand-washing to discover that all that remained of Jamie on the table was his little foot. The rest of him was hanging headfirst, suspended about 4 inches from the ground. And the clever strap that was supposed to keep him immobile? It was wrapped around his foot. Jamie seemed unconcerned about the whole thing, but I may have uttered several unsavory curse words when I saw what had happened.

Item #2 - Never leave your child unattended, period.
I am guilty of this a lot. In fact, I relish stolen moments away from both kids. But today was not so delightful in that I returned from the basement to discover Jamie happily snacking on one of my plants. My first reaction was shock - not about the plant, but about how he managed to get across the room so quickly! When I'd gone downstairs, he was over by the front door, and when I came up, he was by the doorwall on the opposite side of the house. He isn't crawling yet, so how in the dickens did he go so fast? Teleportation?

I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised. He does manage to get around quite nicely with his version of the "army crawl"... we call it the "ballet crawl". As you can imagine, this involves lots of pushing off with his tiptoes.

Stalling Tactics

With Greg at band on Monday nights, it often falls to me to give Caity a bath on those evenings (usually he is in charge of her bathtime; I am in charge of Jamie's). Tonight she decided that she did not want to take a bath. Here are a few of her bath-avoidance tricks:
"No bath - I want to play hide and seek!"
"No bath - I want to hold hands!"
"What video do you want?" (She wanted me to repeat the question, so that she could answer and then lead us over to the video cabinet - I thought this one was pretty clever.)
I told her we could do all of those things AFTER her bath.
Those excuses wasted, she then tried to physically bar my way to the bathtub by throwing her arms wide like a human barricade, saying, "No! Stop!"
I gently put her aside and turned on the water, which she tried to turn off.
After I wrested her hands away from the faucet, she turned to me, pushed up the leg of my capri pants and said, "Oh! You have a boo-boo! I'll get a band-aid!" She scampered off, leaving me to bemusedly contemplate my wound - a teeny freckle on my knee.

It's hard to be stern with her when I'm trying to keep a smile off of my face.

Little Miss Cranky

Caity clearly got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. She slammed her bedroom door shut but remained within, so I went to investigate. When I entered the room she looked up from where she was crouched over a pile of stuffed animals and struggled to her feet, saying, "No! No!" and shooed me away. So I left. Shortly thereafter, I heard her exit her room. I went to the bottom of the stairs; she waited at the top. I wanted her to come down - she refused. I wanted to change her diaper - she shot that idea down. I wanted her to sit on the potty - she didn't like that choice, either. Trying to navigate the impasse, I asked her, "Well, then, what are you going to do with your pee-pee?" Her immediate answer:
"No pee-pee!"
"No diapers!"
"No potty!"
"I want lunch!"

Reading at Almost-3!

While playing with magnetic fridge letters today, Caity created this arrangement:

CBAKD

"What this spells?" she asked herself.
"Duck!" she answered herself.
Then after thinking a few seconds, she changed her response: "...Sheep?"

Yes, she is reading well.

More Voting

So now I am voting for Shannon & Derek on "Dancing With the Stars". Strangely, one is allowed to vote not only once by phone but up to 7 times via the internet. Bizarre. So I voted for them a total of 8 times, and it took approximately 5 minutes. That figures out to be some ratio of time spent vs. voting success that is much more favorable than that of American Idol.

Overall, I am just sad that I spend so much of my precious free time watching competitive talent shows on TV.

Letters of the Day

Today's Letters of the Day are "D" and "A", brought to you by Jamie.
"D!" he says.
"D!" you respond.
"D!" he says again.
And so on.
Sometimes he throws in an "A" for variety.
He will also say them in lower case on occasion: "d!" (the difference in vocalization between upper and lower case calls for a trained ear; a "d" is more subdued than a "D").
And even more rarely, he will point to something and say "D". We're not sure if this is some kind of emphasis or an attempt at identification. The pointing thing is new... haven't seen him do that before today. Perhaps "D" is a very important letter and he wants to be sure we make note of it.

Lots of Gas, Indeed

Caity has been known to call people out on their passing of gas. Well, on their way to buy groceries the other night, Greg and Caity stopped at a red light next to a motorcycle. When the light turned green, the motorcycle vroomed, vroomed, vroomed off. "That's a LOT of toots, Daddy," Caity proclaimed.

Success Squared.

It took an hour this time, but I again managed to vote for David Archuleta on American Idol. Ahahahahahahahah!

Geese are Hazardous to Your Health

Yes, geese are hazardous to your health. And it's not just because of their astounding capacity for producing excrement that you then, inevitably, step in. No, I'm referring to another of their endearing aspects.
Sara (and her kids) and I (and my kids) met at the zoo today for our weekly playdate. The weather was perfect - balmy, yet cool; sunny, yet... sunny. Animals everywhere within sight were snoozing in patches of sun. How I envied them!
Yet I digress. We were wandering down the main drag when Henry announced that he would like to see the camels (ah, those exciting camels!). They happened to be along the opposite path, so we found a convenient shortcut through the gardens.
We found our way blocked by a goose. He wasn't doing anything; he simply sat. So we continued our approach, thinking he would move when we got too close for comfort.
Suddenly, he rose up before us, wings spread and beak wide open! And instead of moving away, he approached in a very menacing manner! Horrified, Sara and I reversed our steps. The goose continued to advance as we retreated.
Just as hideous visions of the goose ripping into Jamie's face started playing in my mind, the goose decided we had gone far enough; he dropped his threatening pose and turned away.
It was THEN that we noticed the small sign, helpfully posted in front of a roped-off area - "Caution - Aggressive Nesting Geese". And indeed, resting peacefully within on a large nest, was another goose.

And this has nothing to do with geese, but I really wanted to add this great picture:

Visiting With Important People

We traversed out to Manchester today to visit with my dad and Karen. Upon asking Caity who she thought we were going to see, she replied, "Rolf and Kermit". Yes, true - these are two of the stuffed animals she likes to play with there. "Okay, who else?" I prompted, trying to hit upon the response of "Grandma and Grandpa". After thinking a bit, she continued, "And Sting and T.B." - more stuffed animals. I guess we can see how humans measure up against ratty, stained toys from the early '80s. Sorry, dad.

Argh...Ack

Argh. Must go to bed. So tired. But somehow the Internet is too compelling... can't tear myself away... need an intervention...

Speaking of interventions, I could really use some kind of Spenders Anonymous Support Group. I can not even begin to total up the amount of $$$$$ I have spent in the past 3 days. But the deals I found! Oh, the wonderous deals!

Earlier this evening, Jamie ate something random off of the basement floor before I could stop him. Was it a piece of paper? A sticker? A centipede? It was certainly something that did not go down easily, for he sputtered and gakked for several minutes. I pounded frantically on his back and finger-swept his mouth in a futile attempt to remove the obstruction; Caity thoughtfully assisted by plopping herself in my lap and singing tunelessly.

So tired. My eyes feel like small stones embedded in my face. Ack.

Ever the Honest One

Caity, being your typical almost-three-year old, likes to answer "No!" to any question, even if it is not a yes/no kind of question. Today, I left her playing in the basement when I went up to take my shower. I'd tried to get her to come up to the living room, so I could lure her into a comatose state with Mickey Mouse Clubhouse (thus reducing the chances of her destroying the house while she "played"), but she refused. "All right," I said relcutantly, as I started up the stairs, "I'm going to take a shower. Can I trust you alone down here?" True to form, she looked innocently at me and said, "No."

Scary/Cute

Caity keeps trotting the little potty out into the living room and cramming Go Dog Go into it headfirst. Should I be concerned? Is this strange behavior a manifestation of her internal feelings towards the potty (and me, perhaps)?

Jamie's new thing - not nearly as disturbing - is to play Peek-a-Boo with his washcloth during meals.

Never Mind

You can disregard my entry from the other week... I thought the potty-training was under way but I was clearly laboring under a misapprehension. Sigh.

Easter Adventures

Easter Sunday was yesterday. As many people in the world hailed the resurrection of the Messiah, we hailed the arrival of Greg's stomach flu. He remained behind at home while the kids and I trekked to and fro across the state of MI, going to church in Waterford and visiting with my family in Manchester. After church, I tried like the dickens to get a cute picture of the kids with my mom and Gil, but a Certain Someone was Somewhat Uncooperative.

Caity and Jamie both received Easter baskets, of course, but Jamie did not seem to notice his. Caity was pleased with the Pooh book in hers, but she especially liked the jelly beans hidden away inside the basket's plastic eggs.

It was good that she'd found some joy in the morning; the first thing she'd wanted to do upon waking up was "color Easter eggs!", but got very upset when she was informed that all of the eggs had been colored the day before and none remained for an additional coloring session. Even if we'd wanted to add more to the eggs we'd done, it would have been difficult - Caity's coloring enthusiasm was such that all egg surface area was taken up with layers of paint, dye, stickers and crayon, and further decorating would have been impossible.

Greg has mostly recovered from his digestive issues, but now I am feeling a bit under the weather. It could be that I am coming down with his flu, but perhaps I have just ingested too many Easter leftovers. Yum!

Knocking On Wood...

It might be happening. Maybe. But I should not speak of it by name, lest it jinx me. A certain someone has been sitting on a certain depository device. And depositing a certain fluid into its depths. On a semi-regular basis. But we shan't mention it by name, or even think about it too hard, just in case it is a fleeting occurrence. We don't want to get our hopes up. Yet, even though it would be a bad idea to acknowledge it publicly (due to the jinxing), we are still excited.

The Greatest Success

After 15 minutes of fruitless dialing, I was finally able to cast my vote for David Archuleta ("Contestant #3") on American Idol... I feel so proud to be part of his legacy. And speaking of my success, it will be surprising if Greg's vision remains intact after all of the eye-rolling he was doing during my repeated dialing attempts. Surely he must have strained something.

Oh, and the kids were their usual persnickety selves today. I mention them because I don't want to lose sight of the important things in life, even in the midst of my euphoria over finally getting through on those busy, busy phone lines.

Oh, And...

... Happy St. Patrick's Day! I totally forgot to wear even a speck of green today. I should be thankful that the checkout people at Target and Kroger did not pinch me (or the kids, who were also not wearing green). But I suppose the checkout people are too busy being disgruntled to be bothered with any pinching. Or communicating, for that matter.

A Day of Somewhat Blah

Not much happened today. We went to Target. We went to Kroger. Caity thoughtfully added more to the piles of filth in the living room - she found a pad of paper, scribbled random swirls of pen on each sheet, then distributed the sheets all over the floor. I decided it was too much work to pick them up. Jamie fussed and drooled. The cat snoozled in my bed for 10 hours. It was an average, kind-of-blah day. It was only saved from being truly blah by the appearance of Shamrock Shakes (delivered home by Greg after his band rehearsal). Sigh.

The Newest Discovery & A "Hoppening" Visit

Jamie has recently discovered his tongue. It's always been there, of course, but if observations of him are any indication, it would appear that it is a brand-new appendage of his. He is constantly sticking it out of his mouth; at various times he appears thoughtful, goofy or just plain saucy.

In other, non-tongue-related news, the kids were able to visit the Easter Bunny today at church (the Bunny must be doing his rounds ahead of time - Easter is next Sunday). Neither child really wanted to smile at the correct moment, or in the correct direction, so this is the best of the roughly 72 pictures that were taken. "Bunny's so cute!" adds Caity, who is helping to narrate this description. "He has eyes, ears, mouth, nose." Oh, and we should probably add that Jamie is wearing the diaper bag emergency outfit... he had drooled so much that he turned his shirt into a sodden mass of cotton - it so wet that it was practically transleucent.

Jamie's First Tooth!

Jamie's two bottom teeth have been visibly lurking just under the surface of the gum for a while, but the one on the left finally emerged today. Hooray for the first tooth!

The New Bedtime Ritual

Caity has not napped for nearly a year now. This has many downsides (as you may imagine), but the upside was that she would go to bed fairly readily. Well, in recent days bedtime has become a struggle again. Now, it plays out like this: you put her in bed and read her some stories. You kiss her goodnight, turn off the light, and venture off to enjoy some hot chocolate. A short time later, you hear suspicious noises coming from upstairs. Upon investigation, you see her standing just outside the door to her room. "Poopers!" she announces. No, they're not in her diaper (yet)... she wants to put them in the potty. "Well, by all means!" you say, and usher her gladly into the bathroom so she can do just that. You even deliver books to her by request (Hop on Pop is a popular favorite) in order to facilitate the exit of said poopers. But after numerous hours (okay, not hours - more like long minutes), the awaited items fail to materialize so you heave a sigh of remorse, pack Caity's diaper and jammies back on, and tuck her back into bed with more stories. You then head downstairs (where your hot chocolate has long since turned into a cool sludge) again, her little voice babbling away in the darkened room behind you. Finally, finally, after a half hour or so, you realize that she has fallen asleep. The whole process, from start to finish, can take as long as 60 minutes. And the whole pooping-on-the-potty thing? A newly-discovered stalling tactic, nothing more. But you hope - oh, how you hope - that one day it will be the real thing, and she really will have to put some poopers in the potty. So each night she reels you in, hook, line, and sinker. Or should I say, stinker?

And So We Begin...

Inspired by my good friend Liz, I have decided to start a daily family blog. We'll see how long I am able to maintain it!