As one of my friends commented when I posted this photo on facebook:
I, for one, would love to spend the rest of my tuesday on a tricycle with a box on my head
it’s a quality box
Reply
Category Archives: oliver
2nd Day Back to School Photo
Wednesday was O’s first day back to school. Wednesday is also Gavin’s 8 am teleconference call for the W3C. O slept until 8 and we had to leave at 8:40 so there was a bit of a rush getting everyone (the boys and myself) out the door on time so I did not get a first-day-of-school photo.
Thursday was O’s second day back to school, he woke up at 6:30 and was ready to leave by 7 so I had plenty of time to get a few photos of the boys. They were quite excited to get going and I managed to get one of them both on the way to the car.
timeout for Mommy
Every now and then Mommy needs a time out. I’m the first to admit things happen, the other day P grabbed O’s dinner (rice and peas with butter) off the table and vigorously dumped it all over the kitchen floor. O cheered him on and demanded I get the “keener!”
These things happen, and I have to sweep the kitchen floor about twice a day anyway, and we steam mop at least once a week, so a little rice with peas and butter isn’t the end of the world (or that much more work).
But every now and then, something happens that I’m less okay with. Continue reading
My Fantasy Playroom
Today one of my not-so-secret fantasies came true: I got a play room!!
No, not a “fifty shades red room of pain” room. Instead, I got something more practical: a room where I can stash most of the boys toys so I can have my living room back. The boys can play and at the end of the day instead of freaking out over the colossal mess, I can close the door and ignore it (at least that’s how the fantasy works in my head).
I’ve been dreaming of a play room since I found out that second child was going to be a boy. I was going to put both boys in bunk-beds in the smaller room, and turn the well-lit room with a lovely view into the play room/guest room. I figured Oliver would need to be at least four or five to be comfortable on the top bunk, so I shelved this fantasy for a later date.
This past Friday, Oliver announced he wanted to sleep in Pah-sah’s room. We made the twin bed cozy, put up his safety rail, and expected him to decide he wanted to move back into his own bed by Saturday morning. Saturday night Oliver again demanded to sleep in Pah-sah’s room, and then he started demanding his “tiny bed” be moved in as well. O continued to sleep in P’s room in the big twin Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights, all the while demanding his “tiny bed” be moved.
Today we complied with his request. Early this morning, while Gavin was teleconferencing with the W3C, the boys and I swapped the twin bed and Oliver’s bed, and moved his dresser.
tree trained
Oliver came inside from playing in his water table, stark naked, he pointed to his penis “me use dis pee un-dah tee!”
He said he needed a diaper, I told him he could use his potty seat, he reiterated his point: “no mommy, pee un-dah tee!”
He was so proud of himself and he hadn’t peed all over our patio, so I got him a diaper.
A few moments later, he came back, diaper in hand and announced:
“me dia-pah wet, no use potty, use tee again”
Our 3.5 year old is not potty trained, but he will use the tree outback.
Lovely.
Tuesday, May 29 2012
they call him “Da Tig”
Oliver has rediscovered his white helmet with the green visor, it had been out of circulation for a while, and has been put back into action with great enthusiasm. Last night, had donned “wace hat” and informed me “me Tig mommy!” “to car me!” “vooooom!”
I posted the photo on twitter, and one of my friends tweeted back:
“some say his favorite snack is Cheerios, and all of his race suits are made by Garanimals. All we know is he’s called the Stig!”
Later O gave the helmet to P, and then we had Baby Stig. His race suit is from Hannah Anderson.
May Day
In both 2002 and 2005 I had the pleasure of being in one of the little towns near Augsburg for May Day. Instead of workers rights and civil unrest, the Germans celebrated the arrival of spring, erecting a giant may pole, serving lots of food and getting quite drunk.
Today we opted to celebrate more in line with the German tradition (minus all the beer): we grilled burgers, ate outside for the first time since last year, and the boys got played in water table.
It was Patrick’s first time at the water table (and outside on the patio without being held) and with the help of Oliver, he got soaked to the skin. Oliver also helped to “wash Baby har!” and make a “road!” of water all over the patio.
I suspect this is going to be come a recurring theme over the summer, so I need to find Patrick some shoes that can hold up well to getting wet a lot. Hopefully I can find some in the box of shoes O’s outgrown (although P has larger pudgier feet than O did at this age and O was 11 months in the dead of winter). I suspect there will be a pair or two from last summer, or the summer before that fit, I just need to figure out the American vs. European sizing and find all the size-labels.
See Howie? See Diggar!
The neighbors in the back orchard have a backhoe, not sure what they’re doing with it, but it has made more than a few passes past our back fence.
Oliver is fascinated by the “diggar!” and spent a large portion of Tuesday afternoon in his observation tower watching the progress. He insisted on holding Howie so that he could see too. “See Howie! See Diggar!”
Zucchini Confessions
I hate zucchini, I have always found it to be a revolting vegetable. Texturally slimy when cooked, mushy even when breaded and fried, zucchini was something I avoided – that and eggplant, but this post isn’t about that.
Up until about two months ago our home had been a zucchini-free zone, then P started to eat, and eat, and eat. So I started making my own baby food, which led to me reverse-engineering his all-time-favorite jar of mush “organic summer vegetables.”
Organic vegetables are easy to come by so I read the label: potato, carrot, green beans and zucchini.
Zucchini?! Really baby, can’t mommy get a break?