Today, Sam wanted to go out on the trampoline, so it was only a matter of time before she wanted her brother out there with her. He loves to bounce up and down when she jumps on the other side ("only little jumps with little bro!" as she yells to me), but mostly, he crawls after her while she runs away from him and they both crack up and get static-y stinky hair. Sam's curly mullet looks koo-koo-ca-choo after a while on the tramp!
So, I put him on there today, and she immediately started running from him, but she also started yelling:
"Oh no!!! It's the Squirm! Everyone, everyone, run and hide from THE SQUIRM! The Squirm will get you and eat you!"
Hilarious. As villain names go, "The Squirm" may not be the best name ever, but it's far from the worst, and is certainly appropriate for Peyton. Later, I noticed he had morphed into a run of the mill scorpion. I asked Sam what had happened to "The Squirm."
She just looked up at me, Einstein hair explosion swaying in the breeze, and said "Eh. Now he's a scorpion. That's the game."
I guess that means "The Squirm" was just a guest star in Sam's playtime. Too bad.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Nutrition and You
I recently saw a commercial for Lucky Charms that touted that now, whole grains are the first ingredient (in these as well as other pretty much otherwise unhealthy kids cereals), meaning they have more whole grain than anything other ingredient in them!
That's super, but it doesn't really give me the information I need to make an informed decision as a mom. What I want to know is, how much whole grain is a kid eating if she eats pretty much only the marshmallows (and occasional accidental "other piece") and then oh so magnanimously slips those oat parts to her baby brother when she thinks her mom isn't looking, so that both the marshmallow and non-marshmallows get evenly depleted and she doesn't lose her privilege to buy Lucky Charms next time? My guess is, not much.
But, you know, it's just a hypothetical, of course. I wouldn't know too much about that in execution.**
I only feed my kids very expensive local, organic, unwashed on the farm but extra washed at home produce, and local, free range, massaged by an equally organic geisha meat-producing animals, that have only been fed corn (or not been fed any corn, I forget which answer is the right one, but whichever is right, that's what I'm doing). Yep, that's me, the queen of the healthy food movement.
Or I will be, when Hostess tries to save itself from bankruptcy and somehow fulfills their promise to make ding dongs "a healthier option." Yesiree bob, that will be a happy day at our house. I'm thinking of slapping some yellow dye #5 into a mix of butter, sugar, and shortening, and slapping it on a boxed mix cupcake in celebration. Woohoo for health!
**No, lightning didn't zap me. Why it didn't, however, I am unsure--probably because even the big guy knows how I drip with sarcasm nearly constantly.
That's super, but it doesn't really give me the information I need to make an informed decision as a mom. What I want to know is, how much whole grain is a kid eating if she eats pretty much only the marshmallows (and occasional accidental "other piece") and then oh so magnanimously slips those oat parts to her baby brother when she thinks her mom isn't looking, so that both the marshmallow and non-marshmallows get evenly depleted and she doesn't lose her privilege to buy Lucky Charms next time? My guess is, not much.
But, you know, it's just a hypothetical, of course. I wouldn't know too much about that in execution.**
I only feed my kids very expensive local, organic, unwashed on the farm but extra washed at home produce, and local, free range, massaged by an equally organic geisha meat-producing animals, that have only been fed corn (or not been fed any corn, I forget which answer is the right one, but whichever is right, that's what I'm doing). Yep, that's me, the queen of the healthy food movement.
Or I will be, when Hostess tries to save itself from bankruptcy and somehow fulfills their promise to make ding dongs "a healthier option." Yesiree bob, that will be a happy day at our house. I'm thinking of slapping some yellow dye #5 into a mix of butter, sugar, and shortening, and slapping it on a boxed mix cupcake in celebration. Woohoo for health!
**No, lightning didn't zap me. Why it didn't, however, I am unsure--probably because even the big guy knows how I drip with sarcasm nearly constantly.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Sour Patch Kids
Not unlike the candied kind, first my kids are sour, and then they're sweet.
The other night was going to be a busy one, and Daniel agreed to bathe Peyton before he left for meetings and basketball, if I would put him to bed when he was all jammied up.
I agreed, so I went downstairs, made Peyton a bottle to give him before bed, left it in his room where Daniel was dressing him, and then was in my room going about my business. Soon, I realized Daniel was in and out of our room too, having never come to get me to take over putting Peyton to bed.
So, I asked Daniel if he had decided to just finish the job and put Peyton to bed instead? He said he hadn't, but he thought I was just going to head in there and since I hadn't shown up (why he didn't say anything when he first saw me in our room is kind of beyond me, but it must be a man/woman communication thing), so he had just handed him a bottle in his bed and left.
For some reason, the thought of my little guy getting totally ignored and drinking his bottle in bed all alone at night upset me, so I went running in there to cuddle him while he finished, even though we don't rock him to sleep anymore and haven't for months.
Apparently, the thought of Peyton left alone for his bedtime meal was upsetting to someone else too, since I ran in to find him happily lying in bed, drinking away, while Sam sat on the floor next to his crib, reading him a story.
She looked up at me and said "You guys forgot to cuddle him and put him to bed! I didn't want him to be lonely, so I'm reading him a story." I thought I was going to cry, it was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen. I was also proud of Sam for showing him some empathy, since empathy is not exactly an emotion three year olds are usually all that great at feeling.
Of course, in typical three year old fashion, she read him a story about "Sammy the awesome turtle" followed by a book about "Sam's very favorite cars and trucks" even though none of the books were actually about her--so its good to see she's still perfectly self-absorbed in some ways.
I have to admit to totally loving my sour patch kids! Now, I just have to remember moments like these when they're being sour. Peyton, and your 3-6am chorus of talking/crying, I'm looking at you!
The other night was going to be a busy one, and Daniel agreed to bathe Peyton before he left for meetings and basketball, if I would put him to bed when he was all jammied up.
I agreed, so I went downstairs, made Peyton a bottle to give him before bed, left it in his room where Daniel was dressing him, and then was in my room going about my business. Soon, I realized Daniel was in and out of our room too, having never come to get me to take over putting Peyton to bed.
So, I asked Daniel if he had decided to just finish the job and put Peyton to bed instead? He said he hadn't, but he thought I was just going to head in there and since I hadn't shown up (why he didn't say anything when he first saw me in our room is kind of beyond me, but it must be a man/woman communication thing), so he had just handed him a bottle in his bed and left.
For some reason, the thought of my little guy getting totally ignored and drinking his bottle in bed all alone at night upset me, so I went running in there to cuddle him while he finished, even though we don't rock him to sleep anymore and haven't for months.
Apparently, the thought of Peyton left alone for his bedtime meal was upsetting to someone else too, since I ran in to find him happily lying in bed, drinking away, while Sam sat on the floor next to his crib, reading him a story.
She looked up at me and said "You guys forgot to cuddle him and put him to bed! I didn't want him to be lonely, so I'm reading him a story." I thought I was going to cry, it was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen. I was also proud of Sam for showing him some empathy, since empathy is not exactly an emotion three year olds are usually all that great at feeling.
Of course, in typical three year old fashion, she read him a story about "Sammy the awesome turtle" followed by a book about "Sam's very favorite cars and trucks" even though none of the books were actually about her--so its good to see she's still perfectly self-absorbed in some ways.
I have to admit to totally loving my sour patch kids! Now, I just have to remember moments like these when they're being sour. Peyton, and your 3-6am chorus of talking/crying, I'm looking at you!
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Future Lyricist?
As I've mentioned before, Sam is a total music sponge. She hears a song once or twice, and then it's chorus is permanently embedded in her brain and she can sing all of it within about 10 listens. Even the words she doesn't know the meaning of, she manages to at least mostly pronounce correctly by ear. This is why I have to be so very vigilant about avoiding her overhearing songs with any sort of bad words in them--Thank you All American Rejects for your constant radio play of "Gives You Hell." Sam repeating that song at a family party is so the last thing I need, and I've managed to get recognizing the song and flipping the station down to less than a handful of notes!
Here's a short list of songs we've overheard her singing to herself just in the past couple weeks:
"Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson (including the whispered "Make that change!" at the end).
"Firework" by Katy Perry (although I should note that she always says "maybe you're a firework" instead of "baby you're a firework," which I kind of like better. It's like "well, maybe you're a firework, but maybe you're not, I don't know everything about you" and I find that funny because it's so much more cynical.)
"Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne. Yep. I don't know whether to blame Megamind or that Honda commercial with the family in the van, but Sam's shouting of "Going of the rail-els on a crazy train!" is pretty common at our house. Also, rails is a two syllable word. Who knew? "Ai! Ai! Ai!"
"Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri. She knows every word, and she sings with so much of her soul behind it, that I really can't help but wonder if she does know someone who "is going to catch a cold from the ice inside [his] soul." Hmmm, maybe I should check on that preschool love pentagon of her, Owen, and every other girl again.
"Someone Like You" by Adele. Yep. I better make a call and check in with Miss Carly on the state of Sam's love life!
This is just a few of the songs we hear her singing, but I think my favorites are when she goes rogue and makes up her own ditties. A few nights before Christmas, she was getting her jammies on, and accidentally pulled her undies down with her pants. I told her that her undies needed to stay on and instead of yanking them right back up, she yelled "uh oh," turned around, started dancing, and sang (to the tune of Here Comes Santa Claus)
"Here comes bums, here comes bums, right down your eyeballs lane!"
Hey, I never said she was classy, but she sure is pretty clever.
Who knows, maybe she has a future in song parodies? Move over, Weird Al, a three year old is on your turf!
Here's a short list of songs we've overheard her singing to herself just in the past couple weeks:
"Man in the Mirror" by Michael Jackson (including the whispered "Make that change!" at the end).
"Firework" by Katy Perry (although I should note that she always says "maybe you're a firework" instead of "baby you're a firework," which I kind of like better. It's like "well, maybe you're a firework, but maybe you're not, I don't know everything about you" and I find that funny because it's so much more cynical.)
"Crazy Train" by Ozzy Osbourne. Yep. I don't know whether to blame Megamind or that Honda commercial with the family in the van, but Sam's shouting of "Going of the rail-els on a crazy train!" is pretty common at our house. Also, rails is a two syllable word. Who knew? "Ai! Ai! Ai!"
"Jar of Hearts" by Christina Perri. She knows every word, and she sings with so much of her soul behind it, that I really can't help but wonder if she does know someone who "is going to catch a cold from the ice inside [his] soul." Hmmm, maybe I should check on that preschool love pentagon of her, Owen, and every other girl again.
"Someone Like You" by Adele. Yep. I better make a call and check in with Miss Carly on the state of Sam's love life!
This is just a few of the songs we hear her singing, but I think my favorites are when she goes rogue and makes up her own ditties. A few nights before Christmas, she was getting her jammies on, and accidentally pulled her undies down with her pants. I told her that her undies needed to stay on and instead of yanking them right back up, she yelled "uh oh," turned around, started dancing, and sang (to the tune of Here Comes Santa Claus)
"Here comes bums, here comes bums, right down your eyeballs lane!"
Hey, I never said she was classy, but she sure is pretty clever.
Who knows, maybe she has a future in song parodies? Move over, Weird Al, a three year old is on your turf!
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
That's dessert talk, honey
Tonight at dinner (hot dogs at Sam's Club--yes, I'm a nutritional giant among moms!), Sam blurted out a question. We're used to that. What we're never used to is the kind of things rattling around in her head at all hours of the day.
"Hey guys. Wouldn't it be super weird, if it was raining eyeballs!?"
Daniel and I agreed that would in fact be super weird. The weirdest.
Then Daniel decided to ask her a follow up question. "So, if it were raining eyeballs, do you think that they would bounce like bouncy balls, or splat?"
Sam thought for a minute and said "They would bounce, unless someone stepped on them, and then they would squish flat! Squish!!!"
In unison, Daniel and I asked "Like grapes? Ewwww."
Sam was very proud of her dinner conversation and ability to gross us out, and laughed like a lunatic while continuing to eat. Peyton, for his part, blew a snot bubble and threw a toy he'd been sucking on onto the floor--which Sam promptly returned so he could continue to lick it.
Parenting--its not for the squeamish.
"Hey guys. Wouldn't it be super weird, if it was raining eyeballs!?"
Daniel and I agreed that would in fact be super weird. The weirdest.
Then Daniel decided to ask her a follow up question. "So, if it were raining eyeballs, do you think that they would bounce like bouncy balls, or splat?"
Sam thought for a minute and said "They would bounce, unless someone stepped on them, and then they would squish flat! Squish!!!"
In unison, Daniel and I asked "Like grapes? Ewwww."
Sam was very proud of her dinner conversation and ability to gross us out, and laughed like a lunatic while continuing to eat. Peyton, for his part, blew a snot bubble and threw a toy he'd been sucking on onto the floor--which Sam promptly returned so he could continue to lick it.
Parenting--its not for the squeamish.
Overusing It
Okay, so maybe I overused the whole "Are you going to stay on the nice list if you behave like that?" thing this Christmas. Maybe.
On Christmas morning, when Sam saw her gifts, she just kept saying, "Mom, I'm on the nice list! I'm on the nice list!" Every so often she'd say "I'm so glad!"
I guess I inadvertently had her a little too spooked, which is funny because she got a video from Santa himself confirming that she was on the nice list, two weeks before Christmas.
In fact, getting in the car today, she heaved a contented little sigh and said "Mom, I'm just so glad I made the nice list. So very happy."
I'm happy for her too. She's a really good kid. She's a little crazy, and she says totally oddball stuff at least 10 times a day, but she's a really good kid and she always tries to obey. Next year, I'll try not to make her think her status is so touch and go.
Then again, it really really worked out well in the behavior department.
So maybe I will do it all again next year.
On Christmas morning, when Sam saw her gifts, she just kept saying, "Mom, I'm on the nice list! I'm on the nice list!" Every so often she'd say "I'm so glad!"
I guess I inadvertently had her a little too spooked, which is funny because she got a video from Santa himself confirming that she was on the nice list, two weeks before Christmas.
In fact, getting in the car today, she heaved a contented little sigh and said "Mom, I'm just so glad I made the nice list. So very happy."
I'm happy for her too. She's a really good kid. She's a little crazy, and she says totally oddball stuff at least 10 times a day, but she's a really good kid and she always tries to obey. Next year, I'll try not to make her think her status is so touch and go.
Then again, it really really worked out well in the behavior department.
So maybe I will do it all again next year.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Angels We Have Heard on High
One of my more recent favorite Christmas songs is "I Need A Silent Night" by Amy Grant. I love the message of it, about taking a step back from the Christmas rush to remember the real reason for the holiday. I especially love the chorus, which goes:
"I need a silent night, a holy night,
to hear an angel voice through the chaos and the noise.
I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here,
To end this crazy day, with a silent night."
Today I was cleaning the bathroom to get ready for Christmas. Daniel has a hard time feeling festive in a messy house, and although I personally don't consider our house remotely messy, it's his holiday too. Bless his anal little heart. So I'm scrubbing and rubbing as one of the 1,000 things on our to-do list for the next two days. I turned on a random itunes generated playlist of music (Christmas and non-Christmas), and one of the songs that came on was this Amy Grant song. I had my head in the shower, so I couldn't see that Sam had wandered in from where she was "helping" me by scrubbing everything she can reach with a magic eraser. Sidenote: I now will have to clean our mirrored doors, magic erasers aren't great on glass, and they're worse when they're dripping with water. As I've mentioned before, Sam has a freaky ability to absorb song lyrics, so soon I heard belted out at full Sam volume,
"I need a silent night, a holy night,
to hear an angel voice through the chaos and the noise.
I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here,
To end this crazy day, with a silent night."
I peeked out of the shower and around the corner to see her swaying in front of the computer and really just feeling it as she sang with all her heart. It was absolutely adorable.
Suddenly I was struck by the meaning of the song all over again.
"to hear an angel voice, through the chaos and the noise."
I'm pretty sure I just did exactly that.
"I need a silent night, a holy night,
to hear an angel voice through the chaos and the noise.
I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here,
To end this crazy day, with a silent night."
Today I was cleaning the bathroom to get ready for Christmas. Daniel has a hard time feeling festive in a messy house, and although I personally don't consider our house remotely messy, it's his holiday too. Bless his anal little heart. So I'm scrubbing and rubbing as one of the 1,000 things on our to-do list for the next two days. I turned on a random itunes generated playlist of music (Christmas and non-Christmas), and one of the songs that came on was this Amy Grant song. I had my head in the shower, so I couldn't see that Sam had wandered in from where she was "helping" me by scrubbing everything she can reach with a magic eraser. Sidenote: I now will have to clean our mirrored doors, magic erasers aren't great on glass, and they're worse when they're dripping with water. As I've mentioned before, Sam has a freaky ability to absorb song lyrics, so soon I heard belted out at full Sam volume,
"I need a silent night, a holy night,
to hear an angel voice through the chaos and the noise.
I need a midnight clear, a little peace right here,
To end this crazy day, with a silent night."
I peeked out of the shower and around the corner to see her swaying in front of the computer and really just feeling it as she sang with all her heart. It was absolutely adorable.
Suddenly I was struck by the meaning of the song all over again.
"to hear an angel voice, through the chaos and the noise."
I'm pretty sure I just did exactly that.
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