Don't Mess with Texum

I've made mention before of Graham's Mickey Mouse placemat map, but what I haven't adequately shared is its new-found celebrity status in our home.  Graham received it at the end of September as a small birthday gift, while Cael opened his Thomas the Train placemat in early October when he turned four.  I was so pleased with myself for finding such perfectly applicable gifts for my boys and knew-- just knew that they would love them.

And in the beginning, they did.  Cael was very happy to dine amongst the trains daily until he discovered that his placemat did not have a map on it, and the love affair was officially over.  Now we very rarely use the mats because it invites an inevitable avalanche of "I want it!" and "No, Mama!  Mat!" that I'd simply rather avoid.

But the other day, when Graham made it known that he would not (under any circumstances) lower himself to eat a ham sandwich, I handed the placemat over to my one and only diner. 

"Mommy, where is Iowa again?"

"Right here."

"It's not very big."

"Well, it's actually very big in real life.  But you're right that there are states that are bigger."

"Why is Iowa green?"

"I don't know, honey.  The states don't really have colors.  But the states at the bottom that are orange and yellow have warmer weather than the blue states up top."

"Look at that HUGE orange state!"

"Oh, yeah, that is Texas.  It is very big.  But there's one that is even bigger, right over here.  It's called 'Alaska'."

"No, it's tiny."

"Well, that picture is tiny, but it's actually bigger than all of the others."

"NO, it's not!  See?  Texum is bigger than Alaska."

"It's called Tex-AS, and I'm afraid it is smaller than Alaska, Cael." 

"Nope.  It's not.  It's HUGE and big and wide."

"Okay, whatever you say, dude."

"I say you're wrong." 

Ouch.  Don't mess with Texum.

Color Me Confused

My littlest weirdo (I say "littlest" as being weird isn't much of a distinction in my home) has made leaps and bounds developmentally over the last month.  Always a quieter child, I had assumed his personality was the culprit, and thanked my lucky stars that I had two children that complimented each other and breathed a sigh of relief for the gray hairs I was sure I'd avoided.

As it turns out, however, Graham was NOT a calmer, quieter boy.  He just inherited my perfectionism and chose not to speak until he felt that he could effectively express himself, and also explodes into an irritable conniption when any of us can't understand his experimentations with the English language.

But for those topics he knows, he's very clear and confident.  And there is no topic closer to Graham's heart than colors.  One of his first words was "purple", and while I doubted that he was making that distinction, it soon became clear that he had a real aptitude for art and colors.

Once we'd mastered purple, it was on to green, those colors being Graham and Cael's favorites, respectively.  When the "green" switched clicked in his brain, he was unable to turn it off.

"Mama!  Geen gass!"  
"Geen ball.  Biiiig ball!"

On to red.  And then blue.  And then we hit a wall.  We've been working on all of the colors with the help of our gel window clings, but decided to tackle them one by one this time and focus on yellow.

"Graham, can you say yellow?"

"Yew-ow."

"Good job!  Now, which leaf is yellow?"

"Dat weef."

"Nope, that's the orange letter.  Try again!"

"Dis weef."

"Well, that's a brown acorn.  One more try?"

"No more weef!  No weef.... YUT!"  (Yuck)

That was as pointless as a steam engine with no coal.  And I know my trains.

I thought that it might all be in my approach, so I decided to ask Graham to tell me the color of certain items around the house.

"What color is my shirt?"

"Pupple."

"Good job, Bubba!  Okay, what color is that lizard?"

"Geen."

"You're so smart!  Hmm... what color is your shirt?"

"Boo."

"Right again!  Now here's a tricky one... what color is your hair?"

I knew it was a long shot, especially since "blonde" resides somewhere between a color and a characteristic, but I was curious of what his response would be.

"Red har."

"Red?  Not yet, at least.  What about your tummy?"

"Pupple."

"You have a purple tummy?  That's news to me!  What color is your bottom!?"

"Poop!"

Today colors, tomorrow therapy.

Holiday Sentiments

I've become one of them.

I gave in and hung my Christmas lights on Sunday, not completely because I couldn't resist grabbing the holidays by the neck and giving them a great big hug, but because the weather was so unseasonably warm and sunny, and I didn't want to be up on a ladder with a 15 degree windchill at the end of November.  That would really bust my buffers.

I'm doing my best to resist turning them on each night, since my goal is to wait until the day after Thanksgiving before going into full-on "elf" mode.  So I put my mind toward other, less noticeable holiday efforts.

I knew that I would want to design our Christmas cards from scratch as I did last year.  I always enjoy design projects, and there was something extra motivating about not only taking the photo, but cropping it, editing out ketchup or chocolate on faces, hands and shirts, and creating a design that would bring a smile and a bit of the holiday spirit to our loved ones.

Christmas card 2010

You know, because not everyone gets their holiday spirit from Polar Express.

With enthusiasm, I grabbed my camera and taped up an old red shower curtain with some masking tape for our backdrop while Graham was very quickly on the scene to thwart my efforts.  He immediately sat on the curtain, pulled it off the wall and laughed.

Pbffffft.

"Biiiiig TOOT!"

I should have taken this as a warning that the experience was gonna stink.

I put both boys down on the repositioned backdrop, and they almost immediately began fighting.

"Graham is sitting on my leg!"
"I don't want to take pictures!"
"But Mommy, it's not Christmas yet!"
"Maaaaamaa!"

I tried everything.  I wrapped them with Christmas lights.  I fed them cookies.  I put a Santa hat on Graham's head and a bow in Cael's hair, but it was futile.  As I snapped away, I knew that the 700+ photos I clicked at lightning speed were useless-- whether it be bad positioning, lighting, or just behavior, this photo shoot was a bust.

I asked the boys, pitifully, if they would let me take just a few more, but the screams yelled in return told me it simply wasn't worth the effort.

But how could I make a Christmas card with such pathetic photographs?  What would I send to my family and friends?

I wasn't sure that was the way to go.  I tried again.

That one was no good, either.  Despite Cael's behavior, I wanted him on the card if for no other reason than to make sure everyone knew we'd kept him alive for another year.

No?  Surely the next would be better.  Everyone likes a little wisdom with their holiday sentiments, right?

Perhaps not.

Resigned to the fact that our card might just be a little irreverent this season, I returned to the computer to look for some alternative images.  But before I could, a couple of photos from Christmas 2010 caught my eye and reminded me of two of the reasons I love this time of year so very much.


So I gave it one more try, and came up with two designs that I love.

They may not be perfect, and they might be similar to the card I made last year, but I hope that when someone opens one of these cards, they feel the love I have for my kids and the love they have for one another.

But if not, there's always New Year's...

Welcome to Winter

Well, not technically.

Last week we awoke to a winter wonderland, or a very wet, soggy imitation of such.  When we were getting ready in the dark warmth of our bedroom, I'd remembered the forecast for snow and asked Cael to open the curtains and see if there was any white dusting our grass.

"OH MY GOSH.  YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS IN YOUR LIFE."

"What, Cael?"

As soon as he opened the curtains wider I could see that it was snowing much more aggressively than I'd been expecting, and I immediately began fielding snowman requests. 

"Mommy!  I want to go play outside!"

"Not right now, honey.  I'm still in my pajamas."

"When you put your clothes on, I want to go outside."

"Graham is still sleeping, and Wes (our daycare friend) will be here soon.  Then I have to make breakfast."

"But I want to go outside NOW!"

Welcome to winter.

It's not that I am against playing in the snow.  It's more that I don't like to be cold, wet, have a runny nose or numb appendages, all of which seem to go together like dodge ball and a bloody nose.  I knew that if I wanted to avoid playing outside at 7:00am, I'd have to come up with an activity that would be new, fresh and tempting enough to outshine the allure of the season's first snowfall.

Alas, there were no magic and/or talking trains running through town that morning, so I turned to the next most exciting thing I could think of.

"Hey boys, let's clean out the closets!"

Can you hear the crickets?  I could.  But as a mom of a toddler, I've mastered the art of making something tedious into something fun even more effectively than Cael manages to turn fun activities into tedious ones.  And he's good, so that's really saying something.

"We need to organize all of the craft supplies and all of this other 'stuff' in the laundry room closet. Whoever helps me the most gets a treat!  And whoever does the least has to help me clean the potty." 

"I want to help!"  
"No, me!"  
"Help, Mama!"

I wish I could say that they were much help.  But they did make trips to the garbage can and help me sweep and vaccuum, and in the self-centered world of boy-dom, that's as big a victory as one can claim.

But as I often do, I got on a roll and once the laundry room closet was organized, I turned my attention to the state of affairs in our toy closet and baskets.  Every few months I will pull out a handful of items (some they aren't playing with and some they are) to be set aside only to reemerge with new purpose after the boys have grown tired of others.  In order to execute this rotation, I have to take inventory on what we have and make sure everything is in its proper place.

Easier said than done.

As I surveyed the supply, I realized how many items were missing.  I knew they weren't in storage, so I went on the hunt for the missing toys.  I suspected I'd find them, along with a slew of mismatched socks and my 2009 Christmas photos, under a floorboard or through a hole in the wall that I'd written off as the gate to Narnia.  Instead, what I found was a confusing collection of items under the couch cushions that suggested some questionable behaviors had been taking place.

Not knowing how long ago those things had been pilfered, I decided to let it go and move on to the next problem at hand.  Where were all of the "Little People"?  Sadly, I already knew.

Forty-five minutes later, one really tired and sore arm and a violated pool table later, I had reclaimed the people along with several Mr. Potato Head accessories and an impressive collection of tennis balls.

It was clear I'd be getting no real assistance from my miniature helpers.

I noticed that the snow had let up considerably and briefly contemplated letting the kids slip and slide around on the gated deck so as to avoid the yard, still wet from what had begun as a vigorous rain.

But just seconds before the words left my mouth, I saw that the dog, full of anticipation, already did what he does best to usher in the season.


Welcome to winter.  It's only a matter of time...

The Gift Horse

The countdown for Christmas is on, and Cael couldn't be more enthusiastic about penning a letter to Santa to instruct him, in what I would guess will be no uncertain terms, which gifts he would like to see under the tree come Christmas morning.  But I've been struggling to make him realize that there are important things that will happen before Christmas, and they deserve some attention, too.

First I tried to explain why we celebrate Thanksgiving, which simply disintegrated into a conversation about his being raised by "pugrums" (pilgrims) and didn't succeed in helping him appreciate our heritage at all.  Not even a little bit.

I'm letting that one go for now, I guess, and concentrating my efforts on Joel's birthday, which (this year) falls on Black Friday.  I've already gotten his gift, which was purchased amid a frenzy of cart boxing and hair-pulling as I waited for an employee to answer a question for, like, forever.  Once home, I was awash with immediate regret as Cael wandered around the house reciting, "I'm gonna tell Daddy that we got him a _ _ _ _ _ _!"

From now on, he stays at home or we put a bag over his head.

Not wanting to be left out, however, my big boy has latched on to the idea of getting Daddy a gift of his choosing, and one that clearly doesn't involve my input.  It's not that I am opposed to the idea, but knowing my son as I do, I can predict the inevitable meltdown that will occur when I'm not willing to purchase a Polar Express replica train.  You know, for Daddy.

So I encouraged Cael to do a little more thinking.



...It's the thought that counts, right?

Caelism of the Day

This morning started early with a trip to the vet to drop off Oscar for a day-long procedure.  (More about that coming soon.)  After a frantic drop-off, we made our way over to the church to deliver Cael to preschool by 8:30am.

We retrieved him at 11:00am and came home to play for a few minutes before beginning to prepare lunch, and it wasn't until that point that Cael truly realized the dog wasn't present.

"Mommy, where is Oscar?"

"Remember?  We dropped him off at the veterinarian."

"But where is he now?"

"He's still there."

"Is he coming back?"

"Yes, Cael.  He's just having the doctor look at his teeth and mouth."

"I guess he wasn't doing a good job brushing his teeth."

"I guess not.

"And maybe he should stop eating poop, too."

Good call, Cael.

Liebster

I still can't believe that I started this blog only five month ago.  I remember writing the first post, clicking "publish", and wondering if my words would float lifelessly into the oblivion or find their way to someone's computer screen.

I think I'm still somewhere in the middle.

And blogging is kinda hard, y'all.  Some days I don't have much to say, and with a modest number of followers it is difficult to motivate myself to keep things fresh and put effort into my little corner of internet real estate.

But a few days ago, a friend gave me a little boost in the form of the Liebster blog award.

Isn't it cute?  I must give a shout-out to Courtenay, who bestowed this award upon me during the few moments of down time her son, daughter (Cael's age) and twin baby girls have alloted for her.  Courtenay and I are former co-workers from a few years ago when I rocked the Study Abroad office at my alma mater.  She always has a witty commentary on living in the country with her husband, kids and gaggle of animals.

What's cool about this particular award is that it is only given to blogs with fewer than 200 followers so that those of us who aren't rolling in the dough from booming blogs can receive (and give) a little love ourselves.  So thanks again, Courtenay, and I'm happy to return the favor!

The blogs I've chosen had to fit this criteria, forcing me to do a bit of internet searching to see who fit and who was too popular to sit with me in the lunchroom had too many followers to be eligible for this particular honor.  Or those people that I thought might not appreciate me blasting their business all over the internet.  

So come on over, ladies and claim your prize!  But remember that you've got to pass it on, or I'll come after you faster than Cael chasing a train. 

Girls Just Wanna Have Fun - This blog is written by my friend Shawna, a fellow Iowa mama who splits her time between chasing her two gorgeous little girls and stitching up amazing kids' clothing through her Etsy shop, No Paparazzi Please.

See Kayla Run - Kayla was the admissions counselor at the above mentioned college and was almost solely responsible for the infamous meeting that brought Joel and I together.  After an amazing weight loss, she has taken to running like a fish to water... or a sneaker to pavement.

The Daily Dakin - Devon is an amazing mama to her little superhero, Dakin.  I met Devon in an online parenting forum and all of us have maintained friendships ever since.  Dakin was diagnosed with SMARD (Spinal Muscular Atrophy with Respiratory Distress) but despite his physical limitations, he has grown to be a bright, BEAUTIFUL and happy little boy, all thanks to Devon.

Moments - Moments is the photo blog that accompanies the photography business of another Cornell grad, Robyn.  From a move to Boston and back, she's built a thriving photography business, and her blog features her beautiful pictures and fun commentary on her life and her photographs.  (This one may be cheating a little... I couldn't find a follower count on the blog, but her Facebook page has a heckuvalot of "likes" so we'll let her slide right in...)

So there you go!

What?  That was only four blogs?  Well, I have my reasons.  Mainly that the blogs I read are either superfamous blogs like Young House Love or Smitten Kitchen or they are the blogs of close friends that seemed a little more personal and a little less public.  So four it is... for now.  I am reserving the right to dole out that fourth and final award whenever I see fit!

So here's to you, ladies!  And here are your instructions.

1. Copy the award to your blog.
2. Thank the giver and link back to their blog.
3. Reveal your top five up-and-coming blogs, and let the bloggers know.
4. Spread the love!