Baa

I'm such a sheep.

Find me at www.mooredorks.wordpress.com. Baaaaa.

Yo.

I just wanted to point out that the vacation post is UNDER the olive-oil one. I worked long and hard (before giving up and publishing a half-finished post that doesn't even have stories or pictures from the most exciting stuff) on that vacation post and it would make me crazy to learn that people open the blog, see the olive oil, think "Huh, nothing new!" and close it again. So scroll down. And would it kill you to comment?

RIP

So I'm still working on the incredibly loooong, full of pictures vacation post. This can't wait, however. The world must see what I have do deal with around here....




That would be the fancy-shmancy olive oil I bought for my friend, Tiff. Congratulations on your fabulous prize, Tiff.

See - if you push the office chair all the way into the kitchen, and SLAM it against the shelves, you can get the breakables to fall off the high shelves.




Luckily, this stuff really does "Cut through grease"!!! All hail Mr. Clean. If I could, I would totally marry him.




And if you were wondering what the perpetrator thought of this whole photo-documentary process.... he didn't notice. Too busy painting his face (sorry, I of COURSE mean eating his breakfast!) Sigh. Good thing he's so cute.

We're baaaaaack

Whew, what a trip. Next time I talk about being in the car for almost 30 hours with two kids, could someone please point me towards a cheap flights search engine? Thanks.

Things we learned on this trip...

Jonas gets carsick just like his Mommy. No puking, but when we were going around and around on those (torturous, horrifying, never-ending) scenic mountain roads he just cried and cried (so did I, but I pretended it was just something in my eye.)

If you dress your kid in a Cinderella costume before taking her to Neuschwanstein castle, other tourists will take pictures of her. Lots of other tourists.

When trying to decide between similar hotels online, it helps if one has this picture of their breakfast buffet...




Mmmm. Pastries. (My annoying kids of course ate next to nothing. Just yogurt and kiwi for them. Really - whose kids are these? I think Joe and I gained at least 2lbs a piece that morning.)

If you can find a pool, or a playground near your hotel... it doesn't matter what cool things you go to see while you're in town. The pool is all they will talk about when you ask "So, what was your favorite part of the vacation?"


Enough of this - here's how the trip went down...

Saturday the 21st we woke up, ran around like crazy trying to get the house clean and the car packed, took Madam to ballet, did some last minute shopping for car snacks, and hit the road. Many, many hours later we pull into the hotel in Bologna that we selected based on the pastry buffet. What the internet failed to mention was all of the... uh... "working girls" around the hotel. They were practically in the parking lot. We had to walk past them to get to the Burger King across the street. (Yes, we ate at Burger King. In Italy. Whatever - I refuse to apologize for this. I practically cried happy tears when I saw it and realized that a very fast, fairly cheap, hot meal was so easily obtainable. It was an hour and a half past bedtime and all we'd had since lunch was granola bars and rice cakes.) Jaynie did not ask me why there were ladies wearing underwear standing on the sidewalk, and I did not volunteer to explain it. Jonas stared, openly, at cleavage that was not mine. The weird part was there were also cops randomly standing on the corners, and other families out and about and it didn't feel like a bad area.... Europe is weird.

Anyway, after our grease-fest we explored our hotel room and found the largest toilet on the planet. Don't believe me? Observe -



Giant toilet with matching bidet. Seriously - is that not an intimidating potty? If you are asking yourself "She went to Bologna and took pictures of the bathroom?" the answer is a big yes. I also took pictures of this stuff -


Mystery toiletry found in the soapdish by the bidet. They have special sinks and soaps for their bottoms, but don't wear deodorant. See? Weird.

Anyway, next morning after the pastry-fest we were on to Germany! We drove through the Brenner pass, paid about 3983759 euro in tolls, and watched as the architecture changed. It was really incredible - one minute all the houses were wide and flat, stone and metal balconies, no shingles, etc. The very next town had ornate wooden shutters, pitched roofs with shingles, carved wooden railings and decks. We were almost there! (Well, not quite. It was like 6 hours. I got a lot of knitting done. )

We arrived in Oberammergau that afternoon (I am loving Wikipedia right now. Bear with me.) and checked into our hotel. Only it wasn't a hotel. It was an apartment. Well, kind of. See - these very nice people (Ingrid and Pauli) own this HUGE house that has been turned into like 4 rentable apartments attached to their own very nice home. It was great.

Chez Ingrid

These Oberammergauians? They are SERIOUS about their firewood. Really - look here...



Oh, that's not so bad you say? Just a nice head start to winter (it's April, people.) Well, what about this?


Hmmm? Explanations? Is it left overs? Did they have a warm 2006-2007 winter? Or are they serious about stocking up for 07/08? Wait a minute...


Holy Moley, people. That's a lot of wood. And it's we're not done, yet...


Yes, these are all different piles, and they all belong to one house. In APRIL. Can you explain this? I cannot. I have to tell you - as we drove around town we saw this everywhere. An entire town buried in firewood.


So Monday and Tuesday the kiddos and I basically hung around watching Little Einsteins in German and swinging on Ingrid's swing -




On day three we discovered the pool. Oh, the pool. Amazing that we wasted 2 whole days NOT going to the pool. (You really must click that link and read the badly translated page for it. "Super Mega Water Fun" for everyone!) I couldn't really take the camera inside, which was a shame since the kids were soooooooo freaking cute in their little suits. Alas, when it's just me and two kids, no life-vests, and like 6 pools - I need both hands free.

The first castle we visited was Schloss Linderhof. This is only a "castle" in that a king lived there. Really, it's smaller than the average bank. It's more like Linderhof very pretty house, than Linderhof castle.



Seriously - I've read in so many guidebooks something to the effect of "It's small but very very beautiful". Bah. Just say it! "Your hotel is probably bigger than this "castle". It's pretty, but maybe you don't promise your three-year-old you are going to see a castle. She may be disappointed." Eh - she doesn't seem *too* disappointed...



Ok - I can only do so much. I'm going to leave you with that smiling face and pick this up again tomorrow. Stay tuned for part two - Schloss Neuschwanstein! Venezia! 14 miserable hours in the car, complete with pictures!

More Cereal!

So this week we've been vacationing in Germany. We've seen castles. We've played in a huge pool. We've strolled down sidewalks past painted house after painted house. We've picked more wildflowers than Jaynie had ever dreamed of in her short life. We've eaten more sausage than I cared to in my long life. We've watched cartoons and MTV in German.... Lots to blog about.

But what am I here to tell you? Simply this - my son is a genius. Today he signed for "more cereal." He did not want more yogurt, he was not all done, he wanted more cereal. So he told me. All that was missing was the "please". We'll work on that. =)

Duh.

When I take off Jonas's overnight diaper, I like to leave him naked for a while. His poor butt needs some fresh air after 12 hours in a wet diaper.

So this morning I take off the old one, give him a wipe, put him on the floor.... and he pees. Wonderful.

Ok, no big deal. I clean it up, and then (foolishly) feel confidant that he's empty and I don't have to keep that close an eye on him.

Over the next 15 min. the kid pees on the floor four times. FOUR TIMES. How is that even physically possible?

So I'm wiping the last puddle, and I'm asking him "Why, Jonas? Why? WHY are you peeing all over my floor?" and Jaynie looks at me like I'm slow and says "Uh, I think it's because he doesn't have a diaper on?"

Duh.

Sleep talking

Jaynie and I have been having some very interesting conversations lately. They always start the same - she's sleeping, suddenly she's crying, I walk in and ask what's wrong, and here are the replies....

"Who turned off the music? Why is the music stopped?" (What music?) "There was music. Very very quiet music. Is sounded like brushes." (Brushes? What kind of music do brushes make?) "It sounded like a song from Mary Poppins." (A very, very quiet song from Mary Poppins that sounded like brushes?) "Yes. Why did it stop? Who turned it off?"

"I DON'T WANT THIS NIGHTGOWN! I JUST WANT A SHIRT AND SKIRT!"

"I neeeed a drink, Mommy. Please! Please can I have a drink?" (Honey - it's the middle of the night. Go back to sleep.) "Noooooooo! I need a drink! I ate all my dinner and now I need a drink! And WHYYYY did that man eat all my chocolate?"

Poor kiddo. Dreaming about a chocolate thief? No wonder she woke up crying.

MOMEEEEEEE

I am no longer "Bob". =)

Chick Movie

Yesterday was "Mom's Day Off" (I KNOW! It was amazing! Well, actually it was like 1/2 day off, because I'm too chicken to drive long distances by myself in a foreign country and dragged the whole family with me on a shopping trip.. but that 1/2 day was great, and now I have new lotion, so it's all good.)

So I shopped, I got my eyebrows waxed (I know, I really know how to have a good time, huh?) and I (wait for it...) went to a movie! Not an animated one! It was rated PG-13, and it rocked. Music and Lyrics. Hugh Grant was even funnier in this one than in 2 Weeks Notice. (I can hear all my male readers rolling their eyes - this is exactly why this was the movie for Mom's Day Off. We left the husbands at home and just enjoyed the hell out of it. Really, girls - go see the movie. Or rent it, cause it probably is already out of American theaters.)

Later that evening, reunited with my little angels, Jaynie asks me to describe the movie to her. I tell her it's about a man named Alex who is a singer, and he meets a beautiful girl named Sophie and they write a song and fall in love and there's lots of kissing and they live happily ever after, The End.

There's a pause, and then she asks "But what about the chicks?"

Total confusion on my part. I don't even know how to ask "huh?" She goes on "Where are the chicks? What about the chicks?" and I'm like "What are you talking about?" and she says "Daddy said it was a chick movie! Where are the chicks? What did the chicks do?"

After I was done laughing, I asked her to repeat exactly what her father had said. "Pretend you are Daddy and I am Jaynie. What did he say?"

"Jaynie? Your Mommy is going kind of crazy so she needs a break. So today we will play and she will go see a chick movie. Mommy and Miss Becky are chicks, so they like chick movies... Hey! Mommy! You guys are the chicks! I forgot!"

I love this game. It's better than planting a bug on Joe. Going kind of crazy? Hmph.

Hard-headed.

Jonas likes to head-butt stuff. His sister, the sides of his crib, the mirror, the wall, a window, me, his sister.... If there's nothing around he'll put both hands in the air, make a kind-of "HiiiYAH!" noise, and whack himself on the head. I've also seen him whack himself repeatedly with a book, and this morning he was banging his own face with a remote control.

No real punchline to this post. Is this a boy thing? It reminds me of the kid in Parenthood who has the bucket over his head and is repeatedly banging against the wall (actually Jonas would probably really get a kick out of that game - maybe I should demonstrate it for him the next time I need 30 min to make dinner...)

Poop.

The following post is about poop. It's a very funny story, but at it's heart? A poop story. If you can't handle that, walk away now.

Jaynie hasn't pooped all day. I'm reading her stories before bed when a foul oder enters the room.

Me: JAYNIE! Holy cow, did you just fart?

Jaynie: Mmmhmmmm. (angelically - like she didn't just fumigate the room.)

Me: You know those poopies that haven't come out all day? I think they're ready. Go put them in the potty please.



A minute goes by and we can hear her talking in the bathroom. The phrase I keep hearing is "All right!" Assuming that she's talking to one of us, Joe goes in to check on her. He comes back, laughing, with the following story -

So I go in there and she's talking, TO THE POOP. she's saying "All right, poopies. Time to come out. Come out, poopies." And I ask her - "Who are you talking to?" and she tells me "I'm talking to my poopies. I'm telling them to come out!" So I ask "Well, what do the poopies say?" and she looks me in the eye and says...


"Dad, they're poopies. They don't say anything."


(Really, it was a ridiculous question.)

Exactly how I feel.

Today Jaynie was being the "Mommy Princess" and all her princess dolls were her babies. She has Belle, Snow White, Cinderella, and Ariel. (Spoiled!)

She was rocking them and feeding them and reading them stories and putting them down for naps... at one point she climbed into bed with them (!!!!!!!) to "snuggle my kiddos". It was all very awwwwwwwwwww.

Then she comes up to me and says "Mommy? My babies make my heart dance and sing."

Where does she get this? I practically teared up. I had Fat Jonas in my lap, Mommy Princess Jaynie standing in front of us wearing her ballet skirt, a sparkly pink shirt, and nothing else (I realized this when she walked away and I totally saw tush) telling me her kiddos made her heart dance and sing. I can think of no better description. Jayne? You're exhausting, but you're sooooooo worth it. =)

DAD! DAD? DAAAAD!

Joe is TDY. He's been gone since Friday.

For the first few days, Jonas didn't seem to notice. I mean, maybe he did, but who can tell? Well, we can tell now. Every evening he goes from room to room yelling "DAD! DAD? DAD! DAD! DAD?" It's pathetic.

He's not upset. He's not crying or anything, but he literally crawls all over the house, opening doors, yelling for his Dad. Whenever I open the kitchen door that leads to our balcony he hurries across the living room to get to me and look for Dad (the balcony overlooks our driveway and it's generally where the kids yell and greet him every night.)

He also says "Bye bye!" "check!" (Like this - Phone? Check! Keys? Check! Purse? (Jonas pipes up from my arms...) "CHECK!") "Jayneeeee", "Hi, you!" "Helloooooo" and, of course, "Bob". (That would be me. Sigh.)

The rest of you will no doubt find this funny...

But for those of us who live here? Exhausting.

Earlier today, Madam wanders into the kitchen while I'm making her some chocolate milk. Which she just asked for. And is now standing 3 feet from me, watching me stir in the Quik.

J: What are you making, Mommy?

M: Uh... the chocolate milk you just asked for?

J: Is it the kind you make with brown powder? Or my special kind? ("Special kind" = chocolate soy milk I buy for her.)

M: Um... do you see this brown powder, here?

J: Yes.

M: ....

J: ....

M: It's the brown powder kind, hello! This brown powder right here!

J: Why is it not my special kind?

M: Because we're all out.

J: Why are we all out?

M: Because you drank it all.

J: Why did I drink it all?

M:.....

J:......

M: Seriously?

J:.....

M: I don't know, Jayne. I guess you were thirsty?

J: Why was I thirsty?

M: [hands her the milk, walks out of the room, bangs head repeatedly against the wall.......]

Ballet day and money in my pocket.

Yesterday was a good day. It was a good day for several reasons.

1) It was Saturday, and who doesn't love a Saturday? (Actually, I know the answer to this. Servers. Servers do not love a Saturday. But those of us who have left our restaurant days behind in favor of a Mon-Fri work week? We love a Saturday.) Daddy home all day? Hurrah!

2) There was a big community yard sale on base and I A) got rid of a ton of stuff that was taking up valuable space in the house and B) made $100. $100! Woo hoo!

3) It was the first day of Ballet class for the Twink. She woke up asking "IS IT BALLET DAY?!?!?" We got her dressed, told her to listen to her teacher, and hauled off to class.....

Jaynie admires her outfit in the big mirror, while waiting for class to start.

I couldn't be there (was busy hawking our old cd's - really - people will buy anything. Mr. Big? Sold.), but Joe took all these pictures for me. (Ok, and for you guys.)

Listening quietly to the teacher's instructions. Who is this kid?

We got the leotard and shoes from the thrift store (two bucks!), and didn't have any plain tights. So she got the rosebud ones. At the last minute she pleaded her case for wearing the foofy skirt. I told her she could wear it to class, but the teacher might ask her to take it off. We had a whole discussion about how ballerinas wear tu-tu's for "shows", but at class they just wear the leotard and tights and it was up to her teacher etcetcetc. Well, she came back to me after class and the first thing she told me was that the teacher had said "Of COURSE you can wear your skirt!"

You can clearly see the joy on her face here.

So if you are wondering what they teach three-year-olds in ballet, it apparently involved a lot of sitting...

Learning arm positions

There was also running on tip-toe (which is so stinking cute, I can't properly describe it), twirling with arms above the head, and "hopping like a frog".

There was one scary part - apparently towards the end of the class a terrorist somehow got into the studio and tried to join the girls...

Blurry, but you can see the danger approaching our tiny ballerinas...

Next week, she's planning to wear her hot-pink leopard-print leggings instead of the rose tights and skirt. Stay tuned for pics.

Truely pitiful confession time...

This morning I had my annual exam. TMI? Sorry. Here's the point...

I was SO FREAKING EXCITED to be going. Really, really delighted. Why? Because I got to leave the kids at home with Joe.

I mean, sure - once I was there they got me on a table and did unspeakable things to me, but the entire time? Nobody questioned me about a Disney princess ("Why is Belle's prince all hairy and Cinderella's is normal? Why does Ariel's Daddy break all her stuff? That's not nice! Why do the birds wear clothes? Our birds are naked! Why does Snow White eat the apple when the dwarfs told her to stay away from strangers? Why is sometimes her name Aurora, and sometimes Briar Rose? Why? Why? Why, Mommy, why?"), I was not required to sing any of the now SIX verses we know of Itsy Bitsy Spider, I was able to talk to the Dr. for as long as I needed, without once having to say "Can you please be quiet for just a minute? I'm almost done, I promise." Hell - you know what I did in the waiting room? I knit! That's right! I didn't read books and jingle my keys and search for binkies... And not once in the two hours I was gone did I hear the phrase "I need a snack and a drink!" or "This is kind of boring, Mommy." Heaven.



(It's really saying something that I so enjoyed a freaking exam. I guess I really, really shouldn't have skipped book club this month. Mommy needs a vacation.)

DADDY!

That's what Jonas yelled this morning, immediately after popping off the boob. He pins me down, has his way with me, then when he's done? Yells for Joe. It's like I'm not even in the room anymore.

Anyway - the "DADDY!" was so clear and understandable, that Joe went into Jaynie's room and asked if she had called him. Heh.

And did I mention that within 24 hours of her arrival, my Mom had Jonas saying "Gramma"?




As for me..... I'm still "Bob". Sigh.

36 steps

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess once you mosey down the hall without assistance (trying to get the toy your sister is deliberately keeping out of your reach), you are officially "walking". And therefore, officially a "toddler". Hmph.









(Seriously - WHY? WHY MUST HE BREAK MY HEART LIKE THIS? YOU ARE THE LAST BABY, DAMMIT! CAN'T YOU JUST LAY THERE AND LOOK CUTE? WHY MUST YOU GROW UP? Ugh. Any day now the "Why? Why? Why? will start. And I'll be dooooooomed.)

Boobies

Last night at dinner, Jonas was cracking us up. He'll put a bite of food onto his fork, then make an airplane sound while putting it into his own mouth. Yeah - you're reading this correctly. HE stabs the food w/ the fork, HE moves the fork towards his mouth, HE feeds himself the food... but makes a WOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooo noise while he does it. It's hysterical.

So we're all laughing and he's eating and somehow the word "boobies" was used. I know, I know - at the dinner table? What are we doing discussing boobies at the dinner table? I honestly can't remember the context. Just skip over this part if it detracts from the cuteness about to follow...

So he stops what he's doing, and pulls his shirt away from his chest and looks down into it. It was kinda loose so practically his whole head disappeared. And we're all asking "Jonas - what are you doing buddy?" and he's looking down his shirt and babbling and finally he pulls his head out but sticks his hand down there and points to his nipple.

Boobies.

He doesn't know ear or belly or hand. He doesn't know mouth or head. He only gets "eye" right about half of the time. But add boobies to the list of body parts Jonas knows. He's starting with the important stuff. Who needs to know "chin", anyway?




(Julie - I totally had you going w/ that title, eh? ROLF.)

Crunchy kids

Today is Joe's birthday (Happy birthday, Babe. Love you.) As it is also a Wednesday and therefore just a normal no-fun workday for him, we had his fake-birthday on Saturday. We had cake, there were presents, we flew a kite, bowled, shopped... it was fun.

I started the day by making buttermilk waffles. I did this for two reasons - 1) I had buttermilk and, really, what the hell else was I supposed to do with it? 2) Joe's not a huge fan of the crunchy whole-grain stuff I usually make. It was his "birthday" after all.

Here is my normal waffle recipe...

1 cup whole wheat flour
3/4 cups white flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
lots of cinnamon (I let Jaynie do this part - there is no measurement. Just dump it in.)
1 tbsp milled flax seed
1 egg
1 1/4 cups milk
1/2 cups oil
1 cup unsweetened apple sauce
3 tbsp water (you could no doubt skip this and just add a little more milk)

Mix dry ingredients in a large bowl. Mix wet ingredients in medium bowl. Dump wet into dry. Voila.


This is some serious whole-grain goodness. Joe wouldn't eat these if he was on Lost and they fell off the mysterious supply plane.

So for his bday I used a basic buttermilk recipe. There was white flour in it. And vanilla. And even a little white sugar (I know - the horror.) I made my normal sized batch - enough for breakfast and then twice that much to put in the freezer.

The kids won't eat them.

I try to give one to Jaynie and she demands to know WHY this waffle is YELLOW!? I just want a BROWN waffle!

I give one to Jonas and he takes a bite, looks at me like I'm nuts, and throws it.



So - if anyone would like approximately two-dozen buttermilk waffles, lemme know.

He walks!

Well, maybe "walks" is stretching things a bit. But he definitely "steps". Like 6 or 7 at a time. He would be able to go further, but the act of walking so delights him that he can't just focus and do it. He starts laughing, then squealing, then clapping and waving his arms around... all this exuberance really wrecks havoc with his balance.

My little man. I am sooo not ready for this.

Three years ago...

(The following was originally posted in Madam's blog by accident. Now it's here, but 2 days late. Whatever - it's a miracle I'm able to dress myself every day, much less keep track of these blogs.)

I used to be Jennifer. I was a sister, daughter, wife, friend, cousin, grandchild, waitress, student, drama queen, painter, pain in the butt, slob... But three years ago I woke to a pop pop POP noise coming from my belly. I stood up and had one of those Hollywood movie moments where the water breaks and GUSH splashes all over the place. 10 hour later my Twinkie was born and gave me a new name. Mommy.

It's all I ever wanted to be. I never had big career aspirations. I went to college because it was expected, but I never hoped to be anything other than a stay-at-home-mom. And here I am. Living the dream. Of course, my dreams didn't involve *quite* so much poop.

Happy birthday, Twink. Thanks for making me a Mom. Love you.

Three times the fun.

The night before her birthday, Joe was explaining the concept of the birthday wish to Madam. He told her she'd have to close her eyes, and make a wish, then blow out the candles. He also told her that the most important thing was to not tell anyone the wish, or it won't come true. He said "People will ask you what you wished for - you just tell them you can't say or it won't come true. Got it?" She told him she understood, waited a beat, then spit out "I'M GOING TO WISH FOR A REAL CINDERELLA DRESS!" (If you are Aunty Suz, or anyone she bragged to, you already know this story will have a happy ending.)

So the Twink requested chocolate birthday cake for her birthday breakfast. Who am I to deny her? We woke up, I frosted the cake, we lit the candles and sang happy birthday. She closed her eyes tight, and said out loud "I wish for a REAL Cinderella dress! The kind she wears to the ball! And also glass slippers and a new light blue headband!", then she attempted to blow out the candles with her eyes still closed. We really need to work on the concept of the secret wish.

The cake was delish. Observe -
Yes - the first picture in Jaynie's birthday post is of her brother. And he's wearing one of her tiara's to boot. Life can be so unfair.

Anyway- after we were all sugared up it was time for presents! Woohoo! The Birthday Girl and I hunted all around the house for them. She was sure it would be a "BIG pile!" and that they would be easy to spot. Little did she know they were in the attic. Heh.

So she's opening and opening and opening. She got a princess chair, some dress-up stuff, games, clothes, a lunchbox (was supposed to be saved for when we started sending her to preschool - oops!), posters, music, a movie... the list goes on and on. She really cleaned up.

While she's opening, her brother is tearing around the room getting into as much trouble as possible, and he's starting to smell a little ripe. So Joe takes him out to change his diaper, and I suggest she sit in her chair for some pictures while we wait for Daddy to come back. She decides that what she really needs for the pictures is a present to hold in her lap and randomly selects a package from her big bag-o-loot.

The tissue paper falls away, and she's left holding the "dress of her dreams". Without Joe to see. Without the video camera running. I swear she does this on purpose.

So after this huge intake of breath, eyes wide, mouth in a happy "O", she yells "My wish came TRUE!" It was priceless. I got her to say it again for the camera, but it wasn't quite the same.

Here's Cinderella in her ridiculously cute dress, and ridiculously ridiculous wig.
Maybe I will get her to take it off before she goes away to college. Maybe.


After presents we walked to the weekly market (or, as the locals call it - the mercado) to buy bananas and "anything she wanted" since it was her birthday. This means she got a new pair of striped knee-socks. That's my girl. We also bought these balloons for the party -


By the way - if you are the one who sent this dress-up outfit, along with the mermaid one, speak up! Don't just send eBay purchases to our house without alerting us first. You know what happens when you don't take credit for cool presents? We take credit for them. Hee.

After shopping there was lunch, nap, frantic running around by me, and then.....






PARTY TIME! (Yes - I realize it's another picture of Jonas. Trust me, there will be more of the birthday girl later.)

We had a costume party at the park. If that doesn't say "good time", I don't know what does. We had costumed kids, bubbles, funny sunglasses...



Cupcakes...



(See - this is why I let the kids decorate them themselves. I could have never topped this. It's a work of pastry art.)

And was basically a rip-roaring good time. Here are some of the birthday girl herself...


Wearing her birthday sticker.


Looking anywhere but at the camera.


Showing me her chocolate teeth. (Really - vanilla is so much more photogenic. Why does my kid have to be a chocoholic?)


By the time we left we were all wiped out. Home to open all the presents (and wow did we get some great ones - thank you everybody!), have a quick dinner (ham and cheese quesadillas anyone?), and right to bed. For everybody. Seriously - I was in bed at 9pm and glad of it. Parties really take it out of me.

Happy happy birthday, my Twink. I still can't believe you're three.

The hell?

So we went to Rome for the weekend. It was fantastic. We stayed at this kick-ass apartment for less than most hotels. Two bedrooms, living, dining, full kitchen (w/ all her plates etc)... it was very nice. We ate great pizza, saw beautiful fountains, strolled through gardens, went to the zoo... all in all a successful trip.

Somehow, however, I missed the most exciting part of the weekend. Apparently, while everyone else was in one room, and I was in the other... Jonas took his first steps. Yeah - you read that right. He took three, THREE, steps from Mom to Joe, and they waited until after he'd fallen to call me.

"Well - it's not like he crossed the room or anything. He just took 3 steps."

"Yeah, um... I've never seen him take ONE STEP."

"Oh. Sorry."

Grrrr. Later I did, in fact, see him take one step. But that's it. And it hasn't happened since. Which is fine with me due to the fact that once he's walking I may have to start referring to him as a toddler, and I'm still not entirely cool w/ Jaynie being one of those. (What? When she turns three on Saturday she won't be a toddler anymore? Preschooler? La la la - I can't hear you.)

Wouldn't you like to live here, Grandma?

So my Mom is in town. When the car pulled into the drive Jaynie ran up to it yelling "GRANDMA!!!!", and she hasn't stopped showering her with affection since. Mom is sleeping in the guest bed in Jaynie's room, so they are "roommates". When Mom goes to the bathroom, Madam goes too. She constantly climbs into Grandma's lap and says things like "Do you have to go home to your house? Wouldn't you just like to live here with me forever?" It's really kind of pathetic.

This morning she got up and came to snuggle with me. I asked if she'd had any good dreams and she told me that she'd had some good ones, but then some sad ones. The good ones were about Grandma being here, and playing with her, and being roommates. The sad ones were about When she had to go home. (Enter incredibly sad face here.)

She climbs all over her, giving out hugs and kisses and "I love you, Grandma. I love you so much." constantly. Mom keeps looking at me funny. She's convinced I'm going to hit her up for a loan, and have been coaching the Twink to help butter her up. I swear, I had nothing to do with this. As if I would choose to be completely invisible when Grandma was in the room. Jeesh.

Hello.

Had this conversation on the phone today...

Ring Ring.

Me: Hello?

Unidentified Italian Man: Blahblahblahblahblah.

M: Hello???

UIM: Blahblahblahblah blah?

M: I'm sorry - non parlo Italiano.

UIM: Uhhh... Speak English?

M: Yes.

UIM: Ok. I calling from Sky?

M: (Paying attention now - Sky is my cable company) Ok?

UIM: Ok?

M: Yes?

UIM: I calling from Sky? You know Sky? You like?

M: Yes, I know Sky. I have Sky.

UIM: Oh? You have? Ok, hello. (hangs up)


It was around then that I figured out he was a telemarketer. The "Hello" at the end is still cracking me up.

I know you've all been waiting....

We're back! Actually, we've been back since Friday. Yes, I am a slacker, thank you very much.

I've been trying to get to this but frankly? Too busy eating cake, opening presents, and bemoaning the fact that I'm 30. THIRTY, people! Good Lord. I can remember when my parents were 30. Is that how old I am? A real, honest-to-God grownup?

I've decided to be "27". I think I can pull it off for a few more years.



Anyway - back to the blog. The trip, it was fabulous. We stayed in this tiny mountain town called Navelli. Tiny. Mountain. The B&B was at the base of the town, there were no shops, no restaurants, hardly any people... just this medieval town that went straight up. Our first night there we climbed to the top - beautiful, but exhausting. Especially when you have 25lbs of love strapped to your chest. Oye, my back.

The next day we drove into L'Aquila to see the castles. Jaynie thought it was the best vacation ever. We saw castles. We saw churches (which she also thought were castles. She loved the painted ceilings, and told us an elaborate story of how the artists must have grown wings and flew up there to paint them. So freaking cute.) We toured a cavern inside a mountain w/ rushing water and stalactites and mites and bats. The cavern's name? Grotti di Stiffe. Yes. Stiffe. Yes, we are juvenile enough to have laughed about being in the town of Stiffe all night long.

The next day we spent several hours in Sulmona, famous for it's candy making. What better place to stop? Beautiful mountain scenery, lots of old churches and random walls around the city center, winding cobblestone streets... and everywhere you look? Candy shops. Again - Jaynie thinks we're the best vacation planners on the planet.



When we got back it was time for my 27th birthday celebration to begin. I got presents first thing. 35 from Jaynie. The 30 was because that's what birthday it was (she must not have gotten the "27" memo), and "the extra 5 are because you looooooooove presents!" What a good girl I'm raising here! She got me tons of stuff from Lush, the first 5 seasons of ER, and season 2 of The Shield. Jonas and Joe combined to get me like 2 more bars from Lush, and seasons 3 and 4 of The Shield. I hope none of you are out there waiting for me to update the website. I'm too busy taking baths and watching TV.

Jaynie and I made my birthday cake. Something I'm usually against having to do myself (which, traditionally, means a store-bought one), but there was a recipe I wanted to try. Thanks so much, Tracey. Seriously - my big, fat (hot) butt thanks you.

Later, and this is the fun part, we dressed up for a big Carnevale celebration on base. Nothing like celebrating your birthday with a few hundred people in costumes. Jaynie was Snow White, I was Fiona (this is what she told me when I walked out in my green princess dress. Made me put on a heart necklace to go with since that's "what Fiona wears"), Jonas was a duck, Joe was our chauffeur.

When we got there, we were almost immediately separated. Jaynie and I on one side of this huge planter, Joe and Jonas on the other. There was an exhibition of dancers from a local dance school, and by exhibition I mean teenage girls in the lowest low-rise pants on the planet. Jaynie will never, and I mean NEVER, be permitted to wear stuff like this. Before they started dancing you could see dimples on the small of their backs. After they started dancing? Butt crack. Unbelievable.

So Jaynie and I move over to the area where kids are dancing and playing a game, and Joe stays where he is. I'm dividing my attention between my little BiancaNeve dancing and jumping and clapping, with my baby Duck and his wayward Dad. Check on Jaynie - dancing. Check on Joe - waiting for us. Jaynie - dancing. Joe - waiting. Jaynie - dancing. Joe - ..... surrounded by the mostly naked teenage girls. Sigh. It's never ok to use the baby as a chick magnet. Especially when the "chicks" in question are under the age of 20. He swears they started it, and it would have been rude to just ignore them. Whatever - when I found him he was sitting on the floor w/ the duck in his lap, literally surrounded by spandex-clad (if "clad" is a word you can use when 80% of your skin is showing) girls. Sigh.

I think that's it for updates. Valentine's day - fabulous. Birthday - fabulous. Next up is Madam's birthday, and I have plans. Big plans. Messy plans. Everyone start thinking "good weather" thoughts so the mess can take place outside.....

See ya!

Joe is suprising us with a fabulous vacation to Abruzzo, land of a million castles! Happy Valentine's day to me! (Notice I said "fabulous" instead of "romantic". With two kids in the bed, this is bound to be the least romantic V-day in a while.)

So we'll be offline for a few days. Before I sign off, let me leave you with this.....



Last night: Jaynie was falling, Joe caught her.

Joe: Wow, Twink, I just saved your bacon.

Jaynie: (Looks down at herself, at her arms, at her legs...) Daddy? What part is my bacon?



Bye, folks.

She works hard for the money.

So, Jaynie has a chore. A real, honest-to-God, actually helps me out chore.

When the diapers come out of the laundry it's a big basket full of dipes, liners, inserts, etc. all jumbled together. There are 4 baskets under the changing table that this mess gets sorted into. Of course, this was my job (what isn't.)

One night I'm running in and out of the room finding pj's, turning on heaters, etc. Joe is in there playing with the kids. I notice that one of the baskets is filled with diapers and I'm all ready to thank him for putting the stuff away when I notice it's not him who's doing it.

Entirely on her own, she's putting away the laundry.

She was doing a damn fine job, too. Diapers with diapers. Liners with liners. Inserts FOLDED, then stacked. Holy cow - I couldn't have done it better myself.

So now it's her job. I put two quarters in her piggy bank every time she does it. Yesterday she wanted to go on a 50cent ride at the commissary, and told me that if I let her she would "Put away the laundry!" for me when we got home. I love it.

Next up - teaching her to clean up under Jonas's high chair.

Of course, of course.

This morning Jaynie asked me "Mommy? What the last letter in Jasmine?" So I told her - "E. E is the last letter. That's a tricky one, because you can't hear the E. Sometimes, E's are quiet at the end of a word...."

I would have gone on, but she interrupted me to say "Oh, I know. Like HORSE. "



Jeesh.

Stating the obvious.

Yesterday a box came for me from my Secret Santa (thanks so much, sloooooow mail service. )

I'm opening it in front of the Twink, and when I pull out a sparkly purple tiara with feathers she goes berserk.

"THAT'S FOR ME! THAT'S MINE!"

I pointed out that it was a box addressed to me, from my friend. What on earth made her think it was for her?

"Well, I'M the princess in this family!"



How do you argue with that?

Bravo!

Jonas likes to give himself a round of applause every time he does... well... anything. Stand up? Applause! Throw a ball? Applause! Catch a ball? Immediately drops it so he can give himself a hand.

This is cute, but frustrating when it's something like getting a bite of food on the fork. Applause! Oh, wait... dammit, dropped my fork.

He has also started clapping for us when we do these things. I can't describe how funny it is to have your one-year-old clapping because you successfully navigated a spoonful of Cheerios into your own mouth....

Right on schedule...

This was my email from BabyCenter today. It's the one that tells me what to expect with my kids at this age blah blah blah. It was titled "Your 35 month old". (How did that happen? It used to say "You're 2 week old".


Hello, Jennifer!

In the coming months your child will start showing more interest in the differences between girls and boys. If you catch him in the midst of playing doctor with that little cutie from down the street, try not to react with shock or embarrassment.

So, I guess that explains that.

It can be hard to keep up.

So we're admiring her (still drying - how come if I accidentally leave the lid off some play doh it's a rock in 30 min, but when we're trying to make sculptures that last they're staying soft for days?) "animals for her friends" and she points to the anatomically correct gingerbread man and says "There's his hoo-hoo! (sooo fascinated by the hoo-hoo's all of a sudden) You have to be veeery careful of boy hoo-hoo's." Now, this gets our attention. What? Careful? Where was this sage advice BEFORE I produced the little terrorists? (Kidding, kidding... most of the time.)

Me: Why do you have to be careful of boy hoo-hoo's?

Jayne: Because you could accidentally hurt them!

(Ok, this is sounding familiar now. I think Joe gave her a lecture once after she stepped directly on his very own "boy hoo-hoo". The kid weighs 36lbs. Think about it for a while. Then (if you're a woman), laugh.)

M: Ohhhhh. You're right. You do have to be careful.

J: You also should be careful of mud!

M: Why?

J: So you don't get the muddy foot!

M: (laughing)

J: And you need to be careful of noodles!

M: (still laughing - gestures for her to explain)

J: So you don't get the saucy foot!




Sometimes it can be hard to keep up with these conversations. Maybe this is what being on drugs is like? Hey, folks! Want a "trip", but don't want to worry about that pesky drug test your company administers? Have a conversation with a two year old! It promises to be a good time!

Gender roles

Few things make Jonas as happy as wearing one of Jaynie's tiaras. He loves them. So sparkly and pretty! He makes a beeline for it, grabs it, and puts it right on his head (to be fair, he also does this with the fireman hats.) I think he looks soooooooooo flippin cute wearing one of his little manly man outfits topped off with a pink and purple rhinestone tiara.

Every now and then I catch Joe looking at him, and it's like I can read his thoughts... "So, if we had had the boy first, would I have two kids who liked sports? Instead of two kids who like to dress like Cinderella?"

Well, she does have a point...

Yesterday, from the backseat...

"My eyeballs are very, very beautiful. I kind of have princessy eyeballs. And Daddy? Has handsome eyeballs. Because he is kind of my prince, and princes are handsome. All of them. Even their eyeballs. "

It gets better and better!

Yesterday at market...

Jaynie: Look at that man! He is a boy! He has a boy hoo-hoo, on the outside!





(I am sooo thankful for the language barrier, and the fact she shouted this out in town instead of on base where everyone would've understood her. Right - I'm off to discuss what we talk about at HOME, and what we can talk about in PUBLIC.)

Family Update...

Joe: Has two papers due tomorrow. Has barely started. Is looking at a laaaaaaaaaate night. Also? I just pulled an crazy eyebrow hair off of him. It was twice as long as the others, curly, and grey. And to think he gave me crap about a grey hair just yesterday. At least I don't have old man eyebrows, Gramps.

Jenn: I bought a jogging stroller yesterday. In response to this threat my right knee started making this incredibly loud and disturbing clickPOP sound when I went up or down the stairs. Note please, that I haven't actually started jogging yet. I just bought the stroller. That's how much my body hates to run - it's taking a preemptive strike by injuring itself before I can even start.

Jaynie: Woke up dry this morning - for the second day in a row. The kid has been day-time potty-trained since last April, but still soaking through dipes at night. Last Tuesday I decided to do some guerrilla night-training and started putting her down in panties. 3 wet nights, then dry, dry, dry. No, I'm not delusional to think we won't have any more accidents, but man - the lack of laundry these past 2 days has been fab-u-lous.

Jonas: Stands up all the time now. All by himself. He doesn't need any help, and he's sooo pleased with himself when he does it. He'll stand there laughing and laughing. If I get out the camera and say "Jonas! Stand up!" he will, then he will totally ham it up. (Pics forthcoming) He still shows no desire to step forward. He'll "walk" around if you hold his hands, but right now he's pretty pleased with crawling at the speed of sound, then standing up to laugh and yell "Ay-NEE! DAD! BOB!" (Why oh why am I still Bob?)

The cats: Are staying with my Mom for a while longer. Sucker.

Forget pitter-patter...

Give me a baby belly laugh any day. Jaynie was cute, don't get me wrong. She had chubs and drool and the whole bit. She was one chompable baby. You know what she was missing, though? Laughter. Giggling. Chortles. Snickers. Actual happy sounds. She would look like she was laughing, but always on mute. No noise came out when you tickled her, or when the cat got close enough to touch, or when Daddy beeped his own nose. Just silent appreciation.

Jonas? Is a laugh riot. In the morning I can hear him in his bed, cracking up because he woke up to his tiger. You give his chubs a squeeze and he's laughing for an hour. Jaynie walks by? Forget it. He laughs all day long.

As if that's not enough - he is also sooo snuggly all of a sudden. He climbs all over me when I'm on the floor, trying to find the way to be closest to me. He likes to go find a small toy, then come back and sprawl in my lap playing with it. If he catches me watching him from across the room, he immediately starts blowing kisses. The. Sweetest. Baby. Ever.


(There is a downside. Just today I hear my lovely little NARC yelling "Oh NO! Mooooommy! Jonas is making a mess!" and go in to find him sitting in front of my open pajama drawer, casually throwing pj's over his shoulders all over the floor. Actually, while I'm thinking about it, those piles are still there....)

Uh oh...

Last night Jaynie took a hard look at Joe and announced "Hey, Daddy! Our hoo-hoo's are different!" (So much for changing in front of the "baby".) There was a moment when we looked at each other, then he said "That's right - I have a boy hoo-hoo, like Jonas. It's on the outside. You have a girl hoo-hoo, like Mommy. It's on the inside." That was the end of the conversation.


Today we made play-doh again (white flour this time -the purple is actually purple.) Remember when I said she only likes to roll out and cut the stuff? Well - today was a departure from the norm. She rolls it flat, uses the gingerbread man cookie cutter, adds two lumps for "eyes", a crescent "smile".... and a huge glop easily the size of the whole man between it's legs. "That's his hoo-hoo! It's on the outside!"








I won't even describe the "girl" she made later.

Hey crafty Moms!

If any of you are thinking of making play-doh with your kiddo, I can't recommend it highly enough. The pouring! The stirring! The squishing! The end result - play-doh that is totally soft enough for them to roll flat all on their own (I don't know about your kid, but all mine wants to do is roll it and use cookie-cutters. We haven't really moved on to 3-D design, yet.) It's wonderful. It's magic. It's an entire day's worth of fun.

Here is the recipe we used...

3 cups flour
1 1/2 cups salt
1/4 cup oil
1 cup water (mix food coloring w/ water before adding it to flour mixture)

Mix all ingredients in a bowl. Get kid to knead with hands until smooth. Create. Play. Enjoy.




Quick note (and probably unnecessary - most of you will no doubt go "no DUH" to this, but if it spares just one toddler the disappointment mine felt this morning, then this admission is worth it...) Whole wheat flour? Not a good idea. Purple? Not so much. More like the color of dirty grout, with lots of big brown flecks. Jaynie was unimpressed. Jonas thought it was delish, if a little salty.

Dear Joe,

Your son, in addition to being a nose-picking mess-making poop terrorist, is also a play-doh eater. Come home soon. Please.

Love,
Your incredibly tired wife.

Genius Alert!

Jonas has started sticking his little pointer finger way, way, waaaay up his nose. I'm talking to the second knuckle, here. It hurts, he cries, I take the finger out of his nose, he cries harder and puts it back. It's a vicious cycle.

We usually play this little game while I'm changing his diaper. It's like,"Hey -I've got no toys or anything to play with up here... what can I do... Oh! Hey! Look where I can fit this!" I think he likes the way it feels to his finger, and hasn't figured out yet that it's what's causing the pain in the nose. Genius, I tell you. Nothing like trying to wipe a poopy butt, while simultaneously trying to keep a pointy little finger out of the nose. My life - it's is soooooo glamorous.

Shhhh - she's listening!

We have to be veeery careful what we say around the Twink. She is always listening. Even if it looks like she's totally engrossed in a book? Listening. (Strangely enough, she doesn't seem to hear me when I tell her to eat her dinner/clean her room/give that toy back to her brother. Huh.)

I cut out all bad words when she was a baby, before she had the chance to repeat them. So imagine my chagrin when she yelled out, in the middle of the Children's Museum, "You FREAKING KIDS!" Whoops.

Or the time she couldn't get a puzzle to go together correctly so exclaimed "Muvver of GOD!" Nice.


But it's not just questionable language she repeats. Example: Jaynie has an unholy fear of the book Hop on Pop! by Dr. Seuss. There's a few pages about Pat, and how Pat should NOT sit on THAT! (It's a cactus.) First we could read the whole book. Then we could read most of the book, but not the "Pat pages". Then we had to make sure she couldn't even see the Pat pages while we skipped them, then, one day, the book was stuffed under the couch and I was told to take it back to the library - WITHOUT SHOWING IT TO HER. Ok.

Anyway - I was telling a friend about this, while Jaynie was across the room playing with other kids. Later that night, she tells her Dad that Hop on Pop is the book that "I literally back away from!" Listening, I tell you. Watch yourselves.

Um... ew. Just ewww.

Jonas has pooped in the bathtub several times recently. Like four times in one week (twice in one evening - right after Joe scrubbed and refilled the bathtub, he did it again.) As those of you with small children know, this is the grossest thing ever. As those of you with no children can imagine, this is the GROSSEST THING EVER.

So, no more letting them play in the tub while you read a magazine. No more having a conversation with your spouse and not paying explicit attention to the water. No more plucking your eyebrows while the two-year-old washes the baby (not that I would do any of those things.) From now on, we watch that butt. We keep our eye on the butt. Washing Jaynie's hair? Doesn't matter - eye on the butt.



All this is to set you up for this little exchange I just overheard...

Joe: Jaynie! Are you ready!

Jayne: YEAH!

Joe: What are we?

Jaynie: The Poop Patrol!

98.6 degrees, baby!

The other night Madam tells Joe that she doesn't like to hug me because I'm "hot" and it "burns her". I'm just that hot.

So he explains to her that sometimes hot means hot, but sometimes hot means very very pretty. Again, it's hysterical sometimes what kids are actually thinking (anyone remember Jaynie's "sparkling rainbow ball"?)



So two nights ago we're having dinner and she's screwing around and basically doing anything other than eating and she keeps interrupting us and Joe finally says "Jaynie! Less playing, more eating!" and Jaynie says "I'm not playing! I'm trying to have a little conversation with you!" and then follows that with "Ok, first? Mommy? Is HOT!" Now THAT, my friends, is a dinner-time conversation! Any disappointment I may have felt to learn that she thought she was calling me very very warm is gone. Now she understands it means I'm pretty, and she's down with that.

(The "Mommy is hot" was just the beginning. While we were still laughing in our soup she says "So, Daddy - how was your day?" Holy cow - dinner conversation will never be the same, now that the Twink is a participant.)

The Tap.

Thanks to my iron-clad excuse (still nursing), I get to put Jonas down at night, and Joe gets the joy? privilege? honor? of tucking Jaynie in (Oooh - sorry hon! I would totally trade you if I could! No, really! What? He's one and I can wean now? Huh? You're breaking up, Joe - I can't hear you...)

Sometimes Jaynie asks for extra stories. Sometimes she tries to turn on the charm. Sometimes she asks him to climb into her (tiny twin-sized) bed and snuggle her.

Sometimes, she asks him to leave.

"Daddy, you have to go now. You have to go away, Daddy. Mommy's calling you." (Extra funny, considering I was happily watching TV with nobody there to argue about what show was on.)

This has happened to him a couple of times. He'll come out looking all defeated, and when questioned admit that Madam has given him "the tap". She's asked him to leave. She's "all done snuggling" him. Ciao, Daddy. Don't let the door hit you on the way out.

This has, obviously, never happened to me. (For one thing, I'm a lot softer and more comfy to snuggle than Joe. We call that a silver lining, people.)

10 minutes ago I was trying to get the Twink to go to sleep. Usually this is a breeze. I "hypnotize" her. I talk about her body falling to sleep part by part, starting with the toes (You're toes are so warm and comfy. They are holding very still. They are not wiggling, they are not moving, they are just relaxed and ready for the nap....) Generally she's asleep before I get to the belly-button.

Not today. I walk in and say "I'm going to talk about your parts now." and she says "NO! Daddy ALREADY did that!" (Damn it, Joe! You obviously didn't do a real bang-up job! How about leaving these things to the professionals from now on?) So I ask her if instead I can just snuggle her. She's all for that - scoots over, holds back the blanket - heck yeah I can snuggle her! So I'm telling her to stop moving and I'm telling her to keep her eyes closed and I'm telling her to take deep breaths and then it happens. The tap.

"Mommy? I want you to go away."

What? Huh?

"Daddy is all by himself out there. I want you to go away so Daddy isn't by himself."

Me: Jaynie - Daddy's fine. He's on the computer. He doesn't need me.

Jaynie: Well, then you should be cleaning. (I swear, I am not making this up.)

M: Whaaaaaaaaat?

J: If Daddy is on the computer then you should do some cleaning because Daddy likes a clean house and this house is not clean. This house? Is dirty. You should go away and clean something, Mommy.





I guess I'm off to do the dishes.

Awwwwwwwww....

Today while I'm getting the kiddos ready to nap, Jaynie announces "There are lots of cute babies out there, but Jonas is the cutest one of all!" (Yes - due to the fact that he is still not walking, he TOTALLY counts as a baby. You can't be a toddler while you're crawling. It's the law or something.)

Anyway - back to the lovefest. She says he's so cute, then she gets down on the floor to hug him and kind of ends up on her back while he lays his head on her. So sweet. I say "You love your brother, huh?" and she's like "Yes, I love him sooo much. Also, I love you, and also I love Daddy. I care about all of you."

"I care about all of you"??? Has she been watching Hallmark movies without me or something?

Hot monkey, anyone?

Yesterday, as I'm strapping Madam into her carseat, she looks up and asks me "Mommy? Do you renember last morning when I was in my Princess Jewelianana costume and I made everybody into things with magic like debils and butterflies and stuff, and then when I was done I made you all back into your normal selves?"

She's talking about Halloween. Jaynie has a very fluid definition of "last morning", it basically means "anytime before right now."

So I told her yes, of course I remember that. She says "Maybe when we get home, I can put my costume on and get my wand and turn you into something with my magic! Maybe a monkey!" Then she leans in reeeaaal close - nose to nose - and says "A Hhhhot monkey!"

That's me, folks. Hot monkey. Not average-looking monkey. Not kinda-pretty monkey. Not even beautiful monkey. HOT monkey. Beat that.

You stole my cashews!

Today Madam didn't take a nap. She slipped in under the radar somehow. Generally speaking, if she's not sleeping she's making a ton of noise. Makes it easy to tell she's still awake, so I can go in and deal with it. Not today. Today she was silent, but awake (this alone deserves a blog entry - who knew she was capable of being both silent and awake at the same time? Mark January 20 on your calendars, people!)

The result of no nap is, of course, a cranky kid. Rather than having a short fuse, she has no fuse. (She also has no volume control. I can only say "library voice!" so many times before we just have to leave.)

So we're in the car, and she's having a snack of mixed nuts. Cashews, almonds, pecans. She eats all the cashews out and then gets pissed that there are no more, she says she doesn't want the rest blahblahblah I take the cup from her... five minutes later she starts bawling unexpectedly. What? What on earth is wrong? "I want my almonds!" Well ok! For the love of Pete - just ask for them! Joe is trying to explain the difference between a real reason to cry and crying over something stupid (good luck there, hon), when she yells "I'm CRYING because Mommy TOOK MY CASHEWS!"

Me: I did not!

Joe: turns head to laugh - almost drives off the road

Jaynie: You DID TOO! YOU STOLE THEM!


How do you argue here? When you're being screeched at from the backseat? Unfairly accused of being a cashew thief?


Just when Joe and I start to get it together she announces, in the saddest voice on the planet, that she's "not crying anymore, but I still just have a little tear on my cheek. And I'm still using my crying voice."


Sometimes I'm tempted to let her skip her nap on purpose - just so I have all this good blog fodder.

Mooooo

In our fridge, there are four gallons of skim milk, one gallon of whole, and one gallon of soy. The fact that they're in half-gallon cartons makes it look even more impressive - 12 containers of milk! In one fridge!

Best part? Joe checks the expiration date, looks at the calendar, and says "You should have bought more milk..."

Where does she get this stuff?

I've introduced Madam to the art of graffiti (our landlord would be so pleased.) The rules are simple - ONLY outside, and ONLY with chalk. Do we draw with chalk on the walls inside? No! Do we draw with crayon on the walls outside? No! When is it ok to draw on the walls? "Outside, with chalk, Mommy!" Good girl.

So the other day she was drawing a picture "For Daddy! To surprise him when he gets home!" It was hot pink and lots of big swirls and swoops. He gets home and she proudly shows it to him - "I drew you a picture, Daddy! It's a picture of me dying my hair!"

What?



So today we're looking at this picture again, and again I ask her what it's a picture of. "It's of me, dying my hair." Ok... what exactly *is* "dying your hair", Twink? Hmmmm? "Dying your hair is when you put paint in your hair, and rub it in, then wash it all out. That's dying your hair."

Not a bad description.

Here's the thing - I haven't dyed my hair since before getting pregnant with Jonas (I know, I've totally let myself go.) So where is she getting this knowledge? I tried to get it out of her - "Where did you hear that? Who told you that?" and she just says "Nobody told me, I just know that. All by myself I just know."

Is she some kind of hair prodigy? Is she destined to own her own chain of salons? (I kind of think she's destined to be a politician. She never shuts up or concedes a point - sounds like a winning combo for D.C.) The best part of this is that she has no actual idea what "dying your hair" does to it. I tried and tried to lead her to the answer - "So, if your hair is brown and you dye it, what will be different about it?" but she has no clue. "It won't be different, it will just be DYED!"

I'm off to find out what else she knows all about, "all by herself".

How very silly of me.

Recently I was trying to get Madam to eat her veggies, in the time-honored tradition of claiming they would make her "big and strong". She looked completely unimpressed. Who wants to be big and strong anyway? I had an idea -

Eat up! They'll make you smart and beautiful!

Mom! I'm already smart and beautiful, hello! (Yeeeah - she's adopted my use of the word "hello!" at the end of a sentence. Smart ass.)

(I'm trying to keep a straight face. A "Eat your veggies right this minute" face. It's a losing battle.)

Look at me! (Frantically gestures to herself. Kind of Vanna White - big sweeping arm movements.) Look at how beautiful I am! And I'm the smartest kiddo ever! I don't need to be MORE smart and beautiful!



Maybe I should've told her they'd make her humble and modest.

Jonas

Is easily the yummiest boy on the planet. He's such a little copy-cat. If he gets his hands on a crayon, he immediately puts it to paper and scribbles. Hand him a spoon and he'll put it right in his mouth. He's mastered crawling into the firetruck and "driving" it - he loves honking the horns and running the siren. He's moving slower than the Twink did when it comes to crawling/standing/walking, but all these little things that took her so much longer he has a serious head start on. Because he watches her. Every second of every day. Yesterday he casually crawled by wearing one of her tiaras. When I asked had she put it on him the answer was "WHAT? WHYYYYYYYYY IS JONAS WEARING MY TIARA!", so I have to assume he found it and put it on himself. (He's very comfortable with his masculinity - if any boy could pull off a sparkly tiara with a picture of Ariel on it, it's him.)

His first word was "AY-NEE!", bellowed out when she dared to walk away from him. He now also says Dada and Mama, but most of the time still calls me "Bob" (???????) His favorite thing in the world (after his sister) is his stuffed tiger - he must have it to sleep. His favorite toys to play with are these cars that Aunty Suz sent (from the movie "Cars") that say stuff like "HEY! Watch the fenders! Ow!" etc etc. when you bang them around. He'll *pick it up, toss it to the floor to hear it yell, crawl over to it* repeat from * all over the house. (Julie and Tracey - you like that description? Hee.)

Last night he stood for the first time with absolutely no assistance. He got up on his knees and looked like he wanted to stand, so I put out my hands and he reached for them... then stood on his own without taking them. He looked as surprised as me. Then he took my hands and walked across the room to Joe, laughing all the way. Won't be long now. Sigh.

Show a little respect, Mom!

Yesterday, the kids and I were in the car when we were suddenly overcome by a "yucky poopy smell". The following is an actual conversation between the Twink and I....

Me: Holy cow! What is that smell? Jaynie - did you fart?

Jaynie: Noooo... but I do smell a yucky poopy smell, Mommy. I think maybe Jonas went poopy in his diaper!

Jonas: [says nothing because he's sleeping the sleep of the innocent]

Me: So, it was Jonas?

Jaynie: Yes, yes I think it must have been Jonas. He's a stinky boy!

[Loud fart sound comes directly from Madam's side of the back seat]

Me: Jaynie! You did it again!

Jaynie: [giggling] Whoops! Mi scusi!

Me: Man, Jaynie - you are a fart monster!

Jaynie: [extremely indignant] I am NOT a fart monster..... I am a fart PRINCESS!



Well, there you go.

So much cuteness, so few posts...

I am not even going to attempt to play catch up on this blog. I'm moving forward. Yes - the kids have done many, many cute things since June. Yes, Jaynie has said many funny things. Do I remember all of them? No. Do I feel guilty about this? Of course. I'm a Mom, hello. Guilt is my middle name. Am I going to apologize for it? Nope. International move, people! The blog suffered, yes, but I'm here now to make up for lost time. Cuteness abounds here at Chez Moore, and it's time to get blogging again...