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. "