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.