MOM! Come find us! We're hiding!

Cate's Birthday-Part 2

Yesterday, Cate's actual birthday, was awesome. Really, it was about as close to a perfect day as you get in life.


We woke up and opened presents!

We made pancakes for breakfast.

Chris took the day off and we went to Niabi Zoo.

We had lunch at Happy Joe's (kids eat free at the lunchtime buffet!). The kids slept for 2 hours each when we got home. Cate took her new wheels for a spin in the neighbor's driveway. We played on the swingset while Chris grilled hamburgers for dinner. Everyone went to bed tired and happy.

It was a good day.

Happy 3rd Birthday Cate!!

Cate's Birthday-Part 1

Cate turned 3 yesterday, April 29. Her weeklong birthday celebration started last Sunday with a birthday party for all of her little friends at the Tot Lot in Iowa City. For those of you not familiar with the "Tot Lot" it is essentially open gym for the preschool set complete with Big Wheels, trikes, balls, giant inflatable bouncy things, play houses, tumbling mats, train tables, and more. It's operated by Iowa City Parks & Rec, open to the public Monday through Friday and can be rented for parties.

(Not only did it keep all the kids--babies through 2nd graders--entertained but I didn't even have to clean my house for the party).

We kept things pretty low key: juice boxes, goldfish crackers and round cookies decorated with polka dots, at Cate's request.

Although she loved every second of her party, I think her two favorite parts were when all of her friends sang happy birthday to her and when she opened a mermaid Barbie (her first!) from her friends A, J, and M.

Ben, where is your raisin?

We were eating our afternoon snack: almonds, cashews, corn Chex, and raisins. Ben sat happily in his high chair while Cate and I "negotiated" potty time. Trying to negotiate anything related to the potty chair with a with a 2-(almost 3-) year-old who, quite frankly, wants to abandon negotiations and go on strike requires some level of concentration.

Thus, I was somewhat distracted when I noticed Ben with his finger up his nose. Nothing unusual there. Suddenly he blinked, sneezed twice, and started crying.

I remained calm. I turned the high chair toward me and peered into his nostrils. I didn't see anything.

I asked Cate, "Do you think Ben has a raisin in his nose?"

Cate helpfully replied, "Maybe you should get the tweezers."

I decided to get a flashlight and, of course, the only one within reach was shaped like a horse and "neigh"-ed whenever the light was turned on. Still, no conclusive evidence that there really was a raisin up there--maybe he was simply picking his nose?

Then Ben's nose started running. Profusely.

Calmly, I crouched down so that Ben and I were eye to eye and I asked him, "Ben, where is your raisin?"

He looked at me, pointed to his nostril, and said, "Nose."

Less than 30 minutes later Ben and Chris were headed to the ER. Based on the advice and careful coaching of the ER doc, Chris was able to dislodge the raisin by blowing into Ben's mouth (kind of like CPR) until the raisin (and a lot of snot) popped out of his nose onto Chris' cheek. The doctor warned Chris that Ben would probably cry as this maneuver tends to startle small children.

Ben, however, laughed hysterically and seemed to enjoy it so much that we will not feed him raisins again until he is 12 for fear he will continue to put them in his nose. Repeatedly.

Conversations with Ben

Me: Ben, do you want grilled cheese for lunch?

Ben: NO.

Me: What about PB&J?

Ben: NO.

Me: What about mac-n-cheese?

Ben: NO.

Me: Yogurt?

Ben: NO.

Me: Watermelon?

Ben: NO.

Me: Cookies?

Ben: NO.

Me: A popsicle?

Ben: NO.

Me: Candy?

Ben: NO.

Family: We are so lucky.

Chris' grandma passed away last week. Although there were many tears shed and she will be greatly missed, the occasion allowed us to spend time with family members that we don't see often. It was great to see them and we miss them already, although we truly wish that the circumstances that brought us together were happier.

Some memories:

Playing in the mud at Great-Grandpa Richard's

Playing with cousins

Baking with Grandma Joan

Playing with Grandma Lu and Grandpa Steve

I Do All My Own Stunts

Nuts.

Cate: "MOM, I am totally digging these cashews."

Six-Word Memoirs: Revisited

A few months ago I wrote a post about Six-Word Memoirs.

I would like to share my Six-Word Memoir about today.

Kids: fever, diarrhea, crabbiness. Mommy: exhausted

(Let's just say that I was reminded, once again, of how wonderful it is that my kids have early bedtimes...)

Excuse me?

On Saturday Chris, Cate and Ben headed to Menard's for a "Kids-n-Dad's Day Out." (We cleverly used this title, instead of "Mommy's Day Out," because everyone knows that the instant you mention the phrase "Mommy's Day Out" you'll have two kids crying and clinging to your leg while wailing, "TAKE ME WITH YOU!")

They even took Sadie along for the ride. As they were backing out of the driveway Cate said, "DAD. You can't take a dog to MENARD'S, you silly fool!"

Chris has me on the phone in seconds, "Where did Cate hear the phrase 'silly fool'?"

I have no idea although she did use the expression on me earlier in the week--as in, "MOM. You need PANTS to go to Hy-Vee, you silly fool!" (NOTE: She was referring to herself in this statement, not me).

But where did she hear this particular phrase? The babysitter? Kids on the playground? Too many 'A Team' re-runs?

I realize that things could be a lot worse and I shudder to think of the phrases/words/attitudes that she will pick up at school someday.

Classic.

Cate: Mom, is Ben a boy?

Me: Yes. Why?

Cate: I wish we had a girl-Ben.

Musical Entertainment Provided by...Cate!

Cate loves music. Her current favorite songs are "ABCs," "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," and "Baa-Baa Black Sheep."

Lately she's started making up her own songs. It's hard to categorize them into a specific musical genre. Let's just say that they are all sung very sweetly, the way that you would sing to a newborn baby whom you dearly love.

Here are the lyrics to one recent composition, sung to her doll, Baby Mary:

beautiful mary...
won't you be my darlin'
you can do bigger things
mary just learning to walk
and i want her to learn to walk right now
can you walk a long way to mama?

In some instances the songs draw quite heavily from songs that we sing in Kindermusik or the Elmo Potty time video. Other times they are basically stream of consciousness---the dialogue that is in her head, set to music.

An example:

Ben is the most beautiful Benjer
he is the nicest little brother in the world
Cate is beautiful singer
Ben why are your feet on the high chair?
you are the sweetest little Benjer...

Ben is probably her favorite subject. She loves to sing to him and about him. The other day they were playing on the slide (that we have set up in our dining room in lieu of an actual dining room table) and I heard her sing the following song to Ben:

Thank you Bud
for going down the slide with me.
it was fun.
I pushed you down the slide a little bit
but not very hard.

National Poetry Month

We're at the Iowa City Public Library today and I notice some posters in the children's section stating that April is National Poetry Month. I don't know much about poetry but I remember devouring Shel Silverstein's books, "A Light in the Attic" and "Where the Sidewalk Ends," as a kid.

Cate loves nursery rhymes and, of course, books by Dr. Seuss, the ultimate children's poet. Looking at the library display, it suddenly occurrs to me that I really should read more children's poetry with Cate and Ben.

A book on haiku catches my eye.

Me: Cate, it's National Poetry Month. We should write a haiku or something.

Cate: No.

Me: Why not?

Cate: I'm bad.

Me: What do you mean?

Cate: I'm bad at haiku-ing.

Happy Easter!

Bekvam

On a recent trip to the Twin Cities we purchased two Bekvam stools from Ikea. Not only are these stools very functional---both kids can now reach the faucet and wash their hands themselves---but they have served as a source of entertainment since the moment they were taken out of the box.

They are mountains. They are school desks. They are benches. They are baby beds. They are runways.

They are particularly fun to stand on and wave your arms in the air (especially when your mom is forced to repeat, " Do NOT stand on the top of the stool! If you fall, you'll crack your head open.").

The only downside to the Bekvam is that now Cate and Ben want to wash their hands all the time. Seriously. If I let them they would stand by the sink for hours, lathering their hands, and rinsing them until their fingers turned into little prunes.

Reason #173 Why We Will Never Get Rid of Sadie (even though I sometimes want to...)

#173: Ben loves her SO much.

I walked into the laundry room the other day and there was Ben, cuddled up next to Sadie, saying, "Good girl. Good girl."

(In my estimation, that sight probably compensates for at least 5 or 10 of the kids' socks that she's chewed up, swallowed, and then subsequently vomited on my floor over the past three years, right?)

Easter Egg Hunt(s)!

We attended two Easter egg hunts this weekend. The first, on Saturday morning, was at the Elks Lodge in Iowa City and the second, on Sunday morning, was held on the UI Pentacrest and sponsored by one of the sororities on campus.

Cate was in her element. She shouted, "I'm so excited!" as she sprinted out in search of her "treasure." Ben didn't quite know what to make of the whole thing on Saturday. He was intrigued by the giant bunny wandering around and wanted to get closer to him. I think he was slightly annoyed that we kept pestering him to pick up eggs and put them in his basket.

By the time we got to the second Easter egg hunt on Sunday he was ready. He ran after Cate and was soon tossing eggs into his basket like he'd been doing it for years.

(See? Ben can't take his eyes off the Easter bunny).

(Hula hoops are fun!)

Poor Daddy

Cate: Will Daddy be home for dinner tonight?

Me: No, Daddy is eating dinner with his friends. On a vacation.

Cate: Oh, poor Daddy.

Me: Poor Daddy?

(Thinking to myself: Um...hello? Poor Daddy? He's on a golf course with friends, drinking a beer and relaxing. He's certainly not simultaneously trying to cook a well-balanced meal while referring a wrestling match over the Little Tykes golf set that will surely end with someone getting smacked in the head).

Cate: Yeah, he will probably miss me and Ben.

I found that I agreed with her. Poor Daddy.

The activities and routines that form the basis of our everyday life may not be glamorous or exciting but embedded within every day are moments (some days there are more than others) when I look at my kids and think, "How is it possible that I have created such a clever/insightful/funny/good-natured/generous little person? How did I get so damn lucky?"

(And if you are like me, you add a quick prayer, "Please God, don't let me screw him/her up.")

I guess that's the paradox: I'm sometimes jealous of Chris' travel schedule. He is able to avoid some of the bad stuff (tantrums, spilled yogurt, fights over a plastic yellow hammer) and the hard stuff (mainly the hour between 4:30 and 5:30 at our house, aka "the witching hour").

But I tend to forget that Chris misses a lot of the good stuff too---like playing "Cuckoo-Cherry Tree" underneath the living room couch, chasing each other through the house, having crazy dance parties in our pajamas, cuddling up to read stories on a rainy afternoon, and hearing "I love you" a thousand times a day.

Potty Time

Let me just begin by saying that our attempts at potty training have met with (very) limited success.

Sure, Cate has used the potty.

We, quite literally, jumped up and down, hugged her and acted like cheerleaders who had ingested too much Ritalin. We called her grandparents to share the good news. We called her babysitter. We practically took out an ad in the Press-Citizen.

We own videos about the potty and we watch them regularly, such as "Elmo's Potty Time," which features a fascinating segment about all of the different terms that kids use for potty and poop (i.e., tinkle, pee-pee, urinate). We bought books about the potty like "A Potty for Me!" and "My Big Girl Potty."

We've offered rewards for using the potty--M&Ms, Tootsie Rolls or even ice cream. We've picked out princess underwear. When that didn't work we switched to Minnie Mouse undies.

Yet despite our efforts (or maybe because of them?) to coerce, cajole and convince Cate to use the potty, she refuses to abandon her diapers. It is quite clear to us that she completely understands the entire process but chooses to wear diapers.

Given her obvious disdain for the potty training process you can imagine my surprise when she walked into the kitchen, holding Mary (her beloved baby doll), and said, "Mary went potty on the big girl potty."

I was completely floored. I have a PhD in business, for crying out loud, and I can't potty train an (almost) 3-year-old but said 3-year-old has managed to potty train a baby that can't even walk or talk??

I had to learn more.

"You potty trained Mary?" I asked. "Today?"

"Yeah," she replied nonchalantly.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I was riding in my car and Mary had to go potty. So I took her into the potty," Cate informed me.

"Just like that? So you took her into the bathroom and then what?" I asked.

"I said, "Mary, do you have to go poop? She said, "Yes."

"Then what did you say?" I continued probing. Perhaps I could learn a thing or two here.

"Nothing. I just put her on the potty."

I'm not one to shy away from free advice, especially when it comes to child rearing so I asked her, "Well, do you have any advice for those of us who want to help potty train their kids?"

She considered my question thoughtfully before answering, "Well, sometimes if babies squirm on the potty they might need a toy."