Friday, December 3, 2010

Faith.

When I told Ellie, Quinn and Henry the other day that I wished they would stay this age forever, even with all the craziness, I truly meant it. I wish we could just stay right in this moment forever. I don't want to get older. I don't want them to grow up. I don't want to ever have to face letting them go.

Today we made cupcakes for Lindsay's birthday, our great babysitter. Everyone had candles in their cupcakes, and Ellie closed her eyes, then opened them, staring directly at the flickering light of the candle and repeated "I WISH I was a princess. I WISH I was a princess. I WISH I was a princess." She said it with such conviction that I could see a little disappointment on her face that she didn't immediately end up with a princess dress poofed onto her. I wish I could make magic really happen for her. I know she truly believes it can.

Chris's dad became very very sick, suddenly, on a vacation to the east coast back at the end of October. After being put in a medically induced coma for about 3 weeks, he has been brought out of it, but he is not waking up. He is very critically ill, and my heart is just so heavy. For Chris, for me, for the kids, for Janna, who I know is sitting by his side, just hoping and praying and holding on to a sliver of hope that he is going to wake up and be the husband she knows, the Papa Russ my kids love. I keep reading everyone's messages on the caringbridge website, about just needing to wait for him to get better, with the help of God.

I am not religious. I haven't found a connection with God, or any other higher power. Maybe that would give me some peace to know what is beyond our life here, but I just don't have it. I have always felt that religion is a great solution for lots of people - it answers questions which I also have, "what happens after death?" "how did we get here?", that I know so many of us wonder and may even fear, and offers a sense of community when it so easy to feel alone. But I don't truly believe anything - not in God, or Bhudda, or Allah. I guess I do have faith in believing that there is something bigger than me out there. I just need to hold onto that.

It feels like the world should stop. Even for a minute. And that he should wake up, if only to say goodbye.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Dead squirrels and holiday spirit.

Today, I managed to run over a squirrel, prepare salad and bake cookies for 20 people, decorate 2 gingerbread houses, get my hair cut and highlighted, change 4 diapers, 2 of them full of poop, attend a board meeting for preschool, make a trip to the grocery store, and see Santa. Oh, and I killed a bird.

I guess I've had worse days. Getting my hair highlighted is one of my favorite things to do. It helped balance out the animals I killed.

The squirrel happened on the way to the grocery store. Then we came home, and there was a bird in the house. I mean, come ON. He must have been lured in by the boiled over oatmeal that was covering the stove. Or maybe the fresh hot coffee brewing...oh, wait. NO. That wasn't it. Because the coffee pot shattered. I am guilty that my first thought was GODDAMMIT! That better not have been the coffee! Then I made sure Henry was okay. He had pulled out the drawers in the kitchen, climbed up, gotten the pot, poured the coffee out, which is when I ran into the kitchen, only to see him crash the glass pot onto the tile floor.

Anyway. So this bird is flying around maniacally. Henry is chasing after it, saying "Buh? Buh? Buh!", and I was trying to get it to fly toward an open window or door, until the poor thing slammed itself into the windows so many times that it must have broken its wing or something. I tried. I really did. But I had to prevent Henry from climbing out the windows I had opened trying to get it to fly out. And I had to make salad. And it finally limped out the front door and hid under a bush.

Not as bad as the time Chris and I were driving and hit a family of ducks. But that is WAY too much of a downer. So I won't get into that.










Tuesday, November 9, 2010

When I grow up




Ellie, I want you to stay to this size forever and ever, so you can fit right here in my lap. -me
Mama, I'm going to get MUCH bigger, but not until my birthday. - Ellie

On growing up:

When I grow up, I'm going to be able to drive a car, have really big hands, and light candles all by my own self. - Quinnie

When I grow up, I'm going to be able to light candles, and eat candy whenever I want. - Ellie

On staying small:

I can fit through small tunnels, and I'm just the right inch for doing trick or treating; I can reach right into the candy bowl. -Ellie

On their preschool teacher's work habits:

Driving out of the parking lot after a school meeting, Ellie and Quinn asked where their fave Teacher Barb was. Their thoughts:

I don't think Teacher Barb leaves preschool until the sun has set on the horizon. (exact words) - Ellie

I don't think she goes home. Teacher Barb sleeps at preschool. - Quinn









Thursday, October 14, 2010

Odds and Ends.






Things that have recently been thrown over the railing of our deck, down 2 stories.

1. Hummingbird Garden sculpture
2. Kids bear shaped baking dish
3. Long metal stake for hummingbird garden sculpture
4. 3 hotwheels cars
5. Bottle cap (oddly, Henry was most
upset about not being able to retrieve that one)
6. pirate sword
7. yellow Big Bird shovel
8. watering can

I am always 2 seconds too late. Henry is equally surprised each time and looks out over the side, saying "Bah??" Bah??" and pointing, begging me (with eyes alone) to go down and retrieve what he has thrown to the thorn filled blackberry bushes below. I have not yet obliged his requests, so the pile continues to grow.

Things I have recently found in the pile at the bottom of the laundry chute.

1. Not surprisingly, about 649 loads of laundry
2. a half eaten plum
3. the spatula I searched five minutes for last night
4. one flip flop, a clog and a leopard print heel
5. flashlight
6. toilet plunger

(the last two I actually heard go down, and wondered if one of the children had gone down with it)

Google searches I have recently done.

1. How to make Peter Pan hats
2. Jennifer Grey Nose Job
3. 16 month old sleep schedule
4. recipes for ground beef
5. princess coloring pages
6. apple picking portland
7. recipe for flubber
8. fitday

I love google. Or Bing. Or Yahoo. Or whatever search engine is handy. I can find anything. ANYTHING! You can tell a lot about what's going on in a person's life by looking at their googling history.

- Photos are of Ellie, Quinn and Henry all at age 17 months.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Princesses. Cars.





Holy SHIT. Today was a long day. Some days just fly by, and some days are spent assuring a very worried daughter that the candles in our pumpkin are not going to burn our house down nor will the matches on the mantle will not spontaneously burst into flame (fire station month at preschool). And preventing the 16 month old from drawing blood out of other toddler's faces at the neighborhood library program, while making apologies to all the other mildly horrified mothers. Or cleaning up the pee from the clean laundry that he dumped from mini potty we have downstairs (because we don't have a bathroom on the main floor. I never thought not having a bathroom there would matter that much. Until we potty trained two children at the same time. It matters). AND reminding the WILDMAN that the only thing that should be going in the toilet - mini or regular - is POOP and PEE. Not paper towel rolls. Not baby Henry's favorite, most adored, coveted giraffe-y. Not pirate telescopes. I think 76% of my daily routine centers around bodily excretions, what to do with them and what not to do with them. The other portion, when I'm not making Peter Pan hats, is spent preparing what will later become bodily excretions. I hadn't thought about it that way before. Anyway.

All that said, Ellie, Quinn and I did have a fun adventure to Target after preschool: new lunch boxes all around. Cars for him. Princesses for her. How did I go from the parent who wouldn't let her pre 2.5 year olds be in the same room with a television on to buying Disney princess lunch boxes and sipping blue raspberry slurpees at the Target snack bar? And thinking it was a good idea? As a fellow preschool mom said, "Seeing your kids happy is like heroine. You'll do anything to make it happen." Finding the balance between bringing them a little material joy and instilling a good values system in regards to materialism is a tough one. We don't buy them stuff all the time (or so I think), and we make lots of things, recycle art projects, etc. Ellie looked at me with wide eyes the other day after looking at a catalog and said, "We can BUY these things?" She had, until then, thought catalogs were just magazines with pictures in them. Ah, how quickly innocence is lost.

Anyway. I think about that a lot - the part about who am I? What am I doing? How did I go from what I was to what I am now - from what I gather, it's a very common topic among mothers. I better go back to Bhuddism for Mothers and find my answer. More on that later.

We watched "Date Night" last night (Tina Fey/Steve Carrell). Totally entertaining. Totally implausible, but totally laugh out loud funny. If you've ever had a discussion with your spouse, with your nightguard already in, about whether or not you feel like sex, you will appreciate this movie.

Also, I started this post a couple days ago, so it's not exactly timed with the photos.








Saturday, September 18, 2010

Joy













It was a big week over here at the Brown house. Preschool started; I actually went to the gym a few times. A big week, indeed. I'm feeling kind of short on words, so here are a few from the kids.

Quinn cried off and on for an hour last week (and I mean REALLY cried - I thought about taking a video, but decided it would seem cruel) because his umbrella wasn't shooting fire out of the tip when he pointed it at Ellie, like Jiminy Cricket's. He sobbed that he was just getting puffs of smoke, no fire. My heart broke for him, even though he was trying to shoot fire at his twin sister.

"I love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very much. Even mucher than my cars." - Quinn, to the gushiest loving mother in the whole world.

When I told Ellie I had to rush to the bathroom, "Don't worry, Mommy, grown ups know how to hold their vaginas."

"I'm giggling out of happiness!" as Ellie ran around the room tonight, giggling.

"Bah? Bah? Bah-ber? Bah? Bah? Ell-ye? Bah? Bah? Bah? Bah? Bah? Sausage." - Henry, which I believe was "Flag? Book? Blackberries? Lamp? Helicopter? Ellie? Lightbulb? Bug? Airplane? Tools? Car? Sausage."

He has actually said sausage and Ellie and an almost blackberry. Other than that, there are a lot of bahs.










Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Motherhood, bubble bath and Vernaccia

I embraced the moment yesterday - ever trying to be more present - and decided that when Quinn said, with his upturned baby blues, looking hopeful, "I'm going to come with you!" on what I had planned on being my very own, very quiet, very alone alone time, I agreed, and we hopped in the minivan. He didn't even mind riding in the smelly seat.

We had to pick up GamGams birthday present, and since there was a car repair place next door, we stopped in there, too, to see if there were any hoods being looked under: my three year old boy's dream adventure. The woman working in the office was exactly who I would have pictured if we had walked into the same car repair shop in Jersey City in 1982: long ringlets of brown hair bleached blonde, a clinging (and when I say clinging, I mean Clinging, capital C) black knit dress with beige stripes down the sleeves, a la Z Cavaricci menswear circa 1990, thick beige panty hose, crackly pink lipstick, and saying "Awwww..." in two syllables at how cute Quinn was. I guarantee that this woman was from New Jersey. They just don't grow 'em the same out here.

Anyway. Then we went to Starbucks, where Quinn was a little dream. We talked about Pirate Adventure camp, about how he loves me, how I can't have any of his brie, but can have the broken cracker that fell on the floor, that he wants some of my coffee. I couldn't help but be really angry at this other mother in there, though. She had her 5-7 year old (hard to tell) with her, and she was trying to have an adult conversation with her male companion, clearly not her partner, and clearly didn't have any kids of his own. The mom kept whisper yelling at her kid, "Sit! I told you to sit! Sit on your bottom in that chair or I will take away TV tonight!" Then she would babble on to the guy, ignoring her kid, who oh so clearly just needed attention - or a book, or a sticker sheet, or a cracker. Or something. That went on the whole time we were there. I wanted to tell the woman to focus on her kid. Or leave her kid at home to play. Who brings their five year old to Starbucks with a friend they want to impress, and expect it to go any other way? At least when my kids lose it at the grocery store, I expect it.

Then today, at the park there was this woman with her two kids, 5 3/4 and 3. The three year old was having a meltdown about something, wanting a stomp rocket from the car. I was there with just Henry. Just Henry! We were on a walk, stopped for a coffee, stopped for a play in the park. No rushing, no one needed to rush to a potty, needed a snack, wanted what the other kid had, didn't want to walk anymore. One kid. Ha! Anyway. So the mom and I are standing there, seriously about 4 feet from each other, and we are the only ones at the park, and her kid is screaming on the slide, between us, and she never made eye contact with me or acknowledged me in any way. I talked to the other one about her school and being 5 3/4. The mom is yelling at the three year old to stop acting so babyish, and that it was her responsibility to bring the rocket with her from the car if she wanted it. She never made eye contact with me. She grunted a little when I said something like, "I had a day like that yesterday..." I'm sure she was thinking, what does this woman know about having two kids?

I tried to remember that I wasn't in her shoes, and that maybe she just got some really bad news - her mom was just diagnosed with a terminal illness, her husband was having an affair, lost his job. But really I think she was just kind of a bitty.

Ellie pulled a bubble bath, toilet paper, dental floss trifecta tonight, all while climbing up a tall, upside down laundry basket "just yike a yadder!" so she could sit at level with the bathroom sink. Boy, bubble bath makes a lot of bubbles in a sink. And wow, there is a LOT of dental floss on a full dental floss spool. Could have been worse. She could have come down from her bathroom extravaganza and gotten poop on the dining room chair while we had friends over for dinner. Or something.

Vernaccia. I had forgotten about Vernaccia. I went down after nursing Henry to sleep, and Chris had dumped the last swig of wine out of the bottle, the swig I had been anticipating the whole time I was getting the kids to bed. He was just trying to clean up. So he went to the store and bought a bottle of Vernaccia from San Gimignano. San Gimi Gimi. I knew I married this man for a reason.

I hope the woman in Starbucks let her kid watch a cartoon last night, and I hope the woman at the park today has a better day tomorrow. I hope, for my sake, that someone else has wiped the poop off the chair.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Arachnids begone, not arachnoids, which would require a telescope or surgery

Take THAT, you toddler-eating spider biatches. I just soaked the carpet under Henry's crib with cedar citronella naturally derived bugspray and layered the baseboards with lemon oil Mrs Meyers Clean Day. I also vacuumed the shit out of that whole room today, so whatever spiders are biting my precious little pea better back the fuck off. Or I will seriously get a night vision camera and kill every last one of them with my bare hands. Or at least get Chris to.

Poor Henry. He's been eaten alive over the past couple of weeks, and now has an eye swollen shut to go with his other puss crusted bites. Capital G-ross.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Dear City of Portland,

Two cement trucks AND street sweepers at 1.20 in the afternoon? REALLY? It is NAPTIME.

I couldn't even get the water meter reader to reach down and try turning a faucet to help me figure out where our leak is while I had Henry screaming in my arms and ellie and Quinn hiding behind each leg, "Liability, ma'am." And now you've got a fleet of trucks trying to destroy my sanity one tiny piece at a time.

It's a conspiracy.

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

I'm not sure if I was more upset that Quinn intentionally dumped my coffee over this morning with a xylophone stick or that it was the last cup of coffee without having to brew more. We had a good day, full of fun and trying moments. Kind of a typical day.

Ellie spent most of the early morning and late afternoon walking around with a tupperware 'bucket', a broom and a wet washcloth asking me if she could go to the ball after she cleaned the fireplace, wiped the windows and swept the carpets. I (her wicked stepmother) let her go once she had sufficiently swished the ashes in the fireplace around and streaked the windows and TV with a wet washcloth. "But I didn't even get your name...", she said wistfully. Ah, where dreams of perfect romance begin.

Quinn spent most of his day turning his imaginary purple Lexus from a car into an airplane, like Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and making legos into street sweepers, limousines, pickup trucks and snowplows.

It's amazing how innate the whole princesspurplepinkandsparklyromancelovekissing and carplanesiamgoingtoknockyouover differences are. Having boy and girl siblings, especially twins experiencing developmental milestones around the same time, is so interesting. Of course they are individuals - I know that, different kids, different interests, blah, blah. I know. When we were watching another segment of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang tonight, there was a kissing scene between Dick Van Dyke and Sally Ann Howe (yes, I had to look that up - I almost thought it was Julie Andrews - how embarrassing for me). Dick and Sally kissed, then climbed into Chitty Chitty; Ellie looked all googley eyed while Quinn said, 'Who's going to drive it?'

We thought it was funny.

Henry took a bunch of steps tonight - he'll be walking in another week, I think. I mean really walking. Not just taking a few steps here and there, which he has been doing for about a month. I've been wanting him to walk - and move from two naps to one, but today he showed some clear signs of both, and now I'm not so sure. I think I'd like the crawling, twice napping version of Henry a little while longer, if you please.

What else? You can see the floors in several rooms of our house. That, of course, means that there is now more square footage for the ants to crawl on, which I'm sure thrills them to no end, but it also means that it looks like we have even a little bit of our act together. Fewer toys, moved toys, more organized toys. More laundry done and put away. Fewer clothes on the floor. Fewer pretzels in the couch cushions and under the rug.

A good day, indeed.

Friday, June 4, 2010

Bedtime

7:00/7:26/7:45 - Henry is power nursing
8:00 - doors locked, Ellie and Quinn happily planted in front of Wall-E so I can nurse Henry to sleep
8:24 pm - Quinn melting down because he accidentally bit his finger while eating nuts, throwing bowl at Ellie, who then eats all his nuts and raisins and stores them in her cheek, refusing to give them back. Hitting and fighting ensue.
8:28 - refusing to brush teeth. Quinn's get done, but not easily. "I think I'll skip tonight," says Ellie. She gets a moderate quick brush, before she clamps up tight.
8:31 - Quinn is asleep as his head hits the pillow (skipped his nap today)
8:48 - I hear things being dropped out of Ellie's crib
8:50 - Whimpering...Mommy!!!! Tuck, pat, restart lullabies
9:04 - "My teeth! Mommy! My teeth! We didn't do the backs of my teeth - they are going to get holes in them!" (my own threat has backfired). Teeth rebrushed, lullabies restarted.
9:32 - "My tummy is still hungry! The side that doesn't have the dinner in it is empty!"
9:49 - surfing Tivo, glass of wine at the ready, seems to be quiet.

I should expect nothing less from the daughter who at 21 months was yelling, "need hummus! need hummus!" from her crib at bedtime.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Siblings without Rivalry

I've got Siblings Without Rivalry, Your Three Year Old: Friend or Enemy and Bhuddism for Mothers competing for attention on my nightstand.

Today, Siblings Without Rivalry got first read, and though a lot of it seems obvious or like I should know it all already, I have to admit I haven't been putting into practice. For twins, it must be so hard to constantly have to share their toys, their time with a parent, everything, and then for us to have thrown another baby into it... well, no wonder they're fighting and cranky.

Anyway. I tell the kids a story each night before bed, about the adventures of a girl their age, who is the fictitious daughter of a couple from this book that Ellie's loves called Stormy's Hat - the daughter I made up is Elizabeth, and a few nights ago, I added in that they had a new baby named Kevin (their choice). Anyway. Tonight's story (after reading an inspiring chapter in Siblings Without Rivalry about creating an open forum for negative feelings), was about how Elizabeth loved the idea of having a new baby brother, but sometimes she would get mad and frustrated because he took all her mom's attention, and as he got older, he would always take Elizabeth's toys, and ruined things that she was working on.

In a break in the story, Quinn said "I get frustrated with Henry sometimes. He always tries to take my cars. I love Ellie and Mommy and Daddy. But I don't love Henry." And Ellie said, "I get frustrated with Henry when he doesn't want to play with me and cries at me." They went on about various things. The irony is that Quinn is always yelling at Henry, pushing him away, and all Henry wants is to be with him. Ellie ADORES him and wants him to play with her. She is always kissing, hugging him and trying to get him to play, and he does cry at her a lot, because she's always in his space. I think her feelings get hurt.

They both clearly felt some relief to talk about it in such a calm place - a rocking chair before bed. And it was really heartening for me. I know that they are frustrated, and that it must be really hard to be three years old and have all these emotions.

And I know that tomorrow they will drive me crazy with their antics, fighting, yelling and screaming, but I will try to remember those moments tonight in the rocking chair and channel that calm.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The new sex

Oh, yeah. Um hm. That's it. Yeah. Right there. A little deeper. Almost. Almost got it.

I'm alone in our room. With dental floss. And it's heaven.


I have had very little time to myself these past few weeks, even with Chris out of a job and home with us. We've been fielding the kids on our own, which has been both fabulous and really exhausting. He's heading back to a new job on Monday. Yay! Ugh. The dichotomy of the return to work. So glad and thankful that he found a job. So freaking anxious about managing all three kids on my own.

I have been wanting to set a blogging schedule. But I can seriously barely get food on the table, or out from underneath it on a regular basis. The kids had a choice of frozen shu mai or frozen ravioli two nights in a row. Maybe it's that I miss having the time to grocery shop leisurely and cook with a glass of wine in hand. The reality is that I am usually running around our kitchen, cursing because I keep tripping over cars and princess wands and getting cracker crumbs and half eaten grapes stuck to my bare feet. It drives me CRAZY. Chris can attest, having witnessed my 10pm mini anger meltdown last night. There was just one crumb too many, AND I was watching, with both disgust and amazement, a trail of 200 ants walking from our den to our living room along a built in bookcase to get the poison we put out for them, and carrying it back through the wall to the nest that BETTER be outside. I believe I yelled (muffled because the kids were sleeping), "We live in filth!" Now that I'm slightly less clenched, it doesn't feel as overwhelming.


Anyway. I am still working on trying to be a wiser, better person. My latest bhuddist principle to think about is letting go of attachment, which should bring me more peace and calm, to not attach myself to expectations of others. Chris didn't read my mind and know I wanted him to take the kids outside? Let it go. Act with love. Henry wakes up from a nap 20 minutes after it starts? Let go of the previous attachment to the expectation of an hour and a half, and accept what it is. A friend disagrees with a parenting strategy. We are all one, and should respect and accept the other view, even if it is not my own. Just thinking of those things makes me calmer, more accepting, less angry. But it's hard to remember that in the moment. It's easy to follow these things when all is going well and I've had enough sleep. But I suppose it becomes the bigger lesson when the day feels like it is falling apart and everyone is crying. Emotions are passing states. Acknowledge them, notice them and then let them move out of our body. Anger, happiness, sadness, elation. They are all temporary feelings that come and go every day, so not to attach myself to any one state as a permanent feeling.

I have also been remembering, as Ellie, Quinn and Henry (but especially E&Q) get bigger and more independent that they are not mine, in the sense of possession. They are ours to mind, to teach, to nurture and love, but it is all so we can encourage them to the edge of the nest, to pursue being their own beings. Having said that, a particularly funny moment with Ellie:

Walking up to a t-shirt and boxer clad Chris with a tape measure in hand, Ellie announced, "I'm going to measure your peepee!", and held the tape measure up to his crotch.
I laughed and gaffawed in hysterics, and asked, "How big was it, Ellie?"
"Big and a half!"

Ah, my beautiful, quirky, sometimes whiny, but wonderful children.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Funny discussion

Look! It's like a candy cane! (Quinn commenting on his poop - to his credit, it actually WAS shaped like a candy cane)
But we don't want to eat it. It's a poopy cane. (Ellie)
We COULD eat it. With cheese. And pickles. (Quinn)

The sun is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
And you might get gingivitis. (Ellie's discussion with herself about something...)

Monday, February 22, 2010

Get it goin'

Being a family of five, three of whom are under three, leaves little time for blogging. Or anything, really. I don't know how moms do this around the world. I really don't. Between breakfast, adventure outings, snacks, lunches, napping (or not napping, as the case may be), dinners, dishes and laundry, I find it nearly impossible to fit in birthday parties, dinners with friends, date night, showers. Maybe if I fit in more showers, I'd have more date nights.

We've been sick for a week with some sort of throatcoughrunnynoseexhaustion disease, and 8 eyes in the family have been afflicted with pink eye. I have commented several times to the kids that their eyes are gunky, which led to Quinn chasing Ellie around the house tonight, yelling at decibel 9, "You're gunky!" to which she would respond with a fake tear and shrill scream, "Mommy! Daddy! Quinn says I'm gunky!" And then it would switch. She would chase him and call him gunky, and he would try to grab her shirt and pull her to the ground. More shrill screaming. As someone said to me recently in great wisdom, "It's okay...believe it or not, they're actually bonding."

I want to find more time in the day. I really do. I want to have more energy to enjoy every second of the day - or at least most seconds. I was reading in one of my Bhudda books that if the only time I feel like I can relax is when all three kids are away or sleeping, my relaxing time will be less than 10 minutes a day. Or sometimes not at all. So I need to work on relaxing with the kids. Sidebar: Chris just came down and gave me the report, "Ellie pooped." Do you realize how much time we talk about the bowel movements of our children? Again, I think we would probably have more date nights if we worked on that a little. More showers. Less poop.

Anyway. I love these kids. I love my husband. I love my family. I am thankful for all we have. I need to relax more. I need to find my project. My "what am I doing on this earth that will make an impact?" project. Saving the honeybees? I've got to think about it.

In the meantime, a couple comical anecdotes:

The other night while getting ready for bed, Chris said he was going to work on their bedtime snack. Ellie said, "Yeah, Dad. Get it goin'." Funnier then, maybe. But still funny.

A couple weeks ago, I took Ellie and Quinn with me to sign some paperwork downtown, and I took advantage of the office's proximity to Nordstrom to return a few things. We walked in, overlooking women's shoes and the makeup area and Quinn stood at the top of the stairs and said, "It's... beautiful." And then proceeded to yank 28 sweaters off a rack and chase Ellie in circles until I could get the stuff returned and get out of there. Quick.

Oh! Comical, no, but important. Henry is crawling!




Thursday, January 14, 2010

Potty Talk

Lunchtime conversation between E&Q today...

And then I put peepee in your mouth! And then I went poopy on your face. E
And it didn't taste very good. Q
And then I threw it out the window at a car. E
And then I put peepee in your cup. Q

Later, while Quinn was not napping, he had a poop and needed to be changed. I asked him if we could change it, and he said no. I asked why not. "Because I like the smell."

Also later this afternoon, from Quinn:

"When I grow up, I am going to go peepee on the potty like Ellie. And I won't need pull ups. And then I'll be a girl." Because I think in Quinn's world, only girls go peepee on the potty. Not boys. Except daddy.

Also, from this afternoon,

"Mommy, I love you. you are so warm and cuddly. I love cuddling wif you."
"This is going to be so fun!" on climbing on the big red balls outside of Target because we had to get diapers for Henry.
"I love you, Ellie," followed by a hug and tackle.

I love this little man, even if he doesn't nap very well and likes the smell of his own poop.