A Little Potty Humor

Long, long ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I told Zachary that I would take him to Inflatable Wonderland when he was potty-trained. (I am sure he was just barely 3 at the time, but as you can see, I was already to the point of throwing bribes to the wind.) Though he had been to other "jumpy jumpy" places around town, as we like to call them for the sake of simplicity, Inflatable Wonderland was going to be that special place that would only be entered upon his successful completion of this very important developmental milestone. It didn't work very well as an incentive, however. Instead of enticing Zachary to actually do SOMETHING to BECOME potty-trained, he simply reminded me, every time we passed it in the mall, that someday he would go there when he was potty-trained. And, each time, approximately 5 seconds later, his mind would already be on something OTHER than being potty-trained. Eventually, as the months came and went with very little progress in that department, I decided in MY mind that we would probably NEVER be going to Inflatable Wonderland. "Woe is me," I'd think to myself. "I guess I'll have the first child to enter college in a Pull-Up."

Then comes the end of my long, sad story. Miracles do happen! Just recently, Zachary, literally, woke up one day COMPLETELY POTTY-TRAINED!!! After all those months and years of madness spent trying to get him to this same end, he did exactly what his pediatrician told me he'd do: He did it when HE was ready!

I am still counting the days since this miracle took place, but now I'm sure that it's the real deal. Zachary is 100% potty-trained! Not one single accident since Day 1, and we're well into the double digits. So, amid my joyous dancing and singing of the Hallelujah Chorus, one of the first things Zachary said to me was, "Now we can go to the jumpy jumpy place at the mall because I'm potty-trained!" Of course, he didn't forget. And I assured him that, YES, we would be going there very soon.

There was just one little dilemma: I didn't know what to do about Ashley. I wanted this trip to Inflatable Wonderland to be a really special reward for Zachary, but how could I leave her out? After all, she has been way ahead of him in terms of potty-training progress until, well, April 14th, to be exact. (Which, by the way, will probably now remain burned in my memory as one of the best days of my life...the day I became a believer.) Ashley is not far behind. I just didn't think it would be right to let her come, too, on the account of being almost potty-trained. However, with her birthday coming up, I thought Zachary might not mind too much if his sister got to join him for that reason. Of course, I hadn't said anything about this to Zachary. But somehow he just knew...

Last week, Grandma came over after work to go out for ice cream with us. One of the first things she said to Zachary was, "Zachary, I heard you're potty-trained! Are you going to go to the jumpy jumpy place at the mall now?!?" Ashley was standing there in the living room with us and her face lit up with excitement. "I want to go to the jumpy jumpy place at the mall!!!" Zachary turned to her and said, in complete seriousness, "No, Ashley. You have to stay with Grandma, because you're not potty-trained. Only I get to go to the jumpy jumpy place at the mall because I am potty-trained." And as if to add insult to injury, Zachary added, "Happy birthday to you, Ashley!"

Ouch!

"What I Meant to Say..."

Last night, during Family Home Evening, Chris read the kids a story about a little boy who was going off to school for the first time and was so excited about learning. Just as the boy in the story was asked to do by his teacher, Chris asked Zachary to say his name and something about himself. Zachary said, "My name's Zachary, and I like blocks and shapes. I like circles, I like triangles, and I EVEN LOVE SQUIRRELS!" Ooops, I think that came out a little wrong! And I think Zachary knew it, because he was laughing as hard as the rest of us.

Mommy's Little Helper vs. Mommy's Little Helps-Himself

This morning, I awoke to hear the following conversation between my kids, who were cheerfully discussing the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches they wanted for breakfast:

Zachary: "Ashley, bring me a chair so I can get the bread from on top of the refrigerator."
Ashley: "I don't think so. Mommy can help."
Zachary: "Then I'm going to climb on the treadmill and then on the counter so I can get it."
Ashley: "No. Mommy can help."

And that's about the point when I got up, walked into the kitchen and calmly suggested, "Yes, Mommy can help."

Bad Karma Strikes and I Claim My Place in the Family Infirmary

I exposed my sick child to other people and their children today, so I guess I deserve to claim my spot in the family infirmary now. After all, what goes around comes around, right? I have had quite the headache for the past several hours now and am feeling pretty sick at my stomach, too. After watching Zachary throw up all day, though, is it any wonder why???

Poor Zachary has not been able to keep anything down all day. After cancelling our lunch plans, Zachary was very sad when I told him we'd be staying home instead of riding the Zilker Park train as planned. After each episode he had of throwing up, I'd say it again, "I promise we'll go next week when you're feeling better!" But that did not ease his troubled little heart. At one point, while sitting on the floor next to the toilet, he offered this impassioned plea: "Mommy, I have tried EVERYTHING I can think of, but the sickness is just not going away!" Who likes to see a kid have to work so hard, and despite all his efforts, feel like he has failed? Not me. I know there will definitely be times where I have to put my foot down and keep him home when he is sick, but I didn't feel like this HAD to be one of those times. He wanted to go so badly, and he was even wearing his little train conductor's hat and bandana and looked so cute, I figured we could give it a shot. I packed up an extra shirt and towels just in case and we headed down to the park, but not before Zachary eagerly offered a prayer that he would not throw up and have to miss the train.

After arriving at the park, we bought our train tickets but had a little time to play at the park before its departure. Zachary was all over that park and seemed to be happy despite not feeling well. We played so much that we almost MISSED our train. We boarded right as the conductor yelled, "All aboard!" and took off in a matter of seconds. We were lucky that we made it. That was close! It was a beautiful day outside, but the wind was blowing pretty hard, so I spent half the time shielding my eyes and mouth from the flying dirt and grit, but the kids enjoyed themselves. Zachary was sad, though, that we didn't see Woody this time (a man who hangs out along the route playing his guitar and harmonica.) Apparently, Woody was a significant part of what made the train so fun the first time and the reason why Ashley insisted on bringing their harmonica (though I made her leave it in the car.) We played a little more in the park before Zachary found a spot atop one of the slides and laid down. I told him, at that point, that we needed to go home so he could rest. We managed to get through our outing just before Zachary's stomach began acting up again. On the way home, I tried to supervise his next episode while driving along the toll road. I came prepared, though, and he was covered in a towel and the car was spared. He looked pretty bad at that point, so I asked him, "Do I need to take you to the doctor?" He replied (weakly), "Don't be so rude!"

We made it home and Zachary rested all afternoon while I worried about what more serious ailment he could possibly have than the innocuous 24-hour stomach bug that Ashley had over the weekend. I was looking up appendicitis when a friend suggested that a way to tell if a kid has that is to straighten out his leg and push firmly on his heel as though I'm trying to push his leg into his pelvis. Does that not sound HORRIBLE?! At the time, Zachary was sleeping, so I waited until he woke up to inflict more pain on him. First, I asked him if he felt better (he said "yes") and asked him if his stomach hurt, while I pressed lightly on it (he said "no") and then I straightened his leg and inflicted the torture, which only resulted in Zachary throwing up all the water he had drunk over the 2 hours prior. He was holding NOTHING down. I hate to see anyone so sick.

Chris got home around 5:30 and after a few minutes, I went and lied down to see if I could shake the headache that had crept in over the course of the afternoon. He was so good to watch the kids while I ended up sleeping all evening. I didn't feel much better when I got up a few hours later, but maybe this will pass by the morning. Worse than taking care of sick kids (or husbands) is caring for them when you are also feeling yucky. So, with that, I'm going to sign off and get myself ready for bed and pray that this is gone when I wake up.

Welcome to the Family!

This morning, at 9 a.m. to be exact, some unfamiliar music started playing from my cell phone/alarm clock on the nightstand beside my bed. I received a text message from my brother, Steven, with the news that "It's a girl!" He and his wife, Amanda, had their ultrasound today and found out that they, too, are having a girl this summer...due approx. 3 weeks after ours. I am very excited for them (this is their first--not that I wouldn't be excited if they *hint* had a second or a third...) and I had a hunch it would be a girl. After all, their 2 cats and 1 dog are all "boys" and there needed to be a little balance in their family, in my opinion. I can just see her now, with her wrapped around her daddy's (and mommy's) little finger. She will make a beautiful addition to their family, and they will be great parents, I'm sure.

I sent a message back immediately to brag at just how intuitive I am that I KNEW it would be a girl...with an added note that it is a good thing, because Steven and Amanda's favorite colors are purple and more purple. It is tough to find cute clothes for a baby boy in purple...or ANY baby boy clothes in purple for that matter. They'd have to shop at the TCU store, and every piece of attire would have the wrong "monogram" on it or else a picture of a horny toad. Not a pretty picture, but I digress... It will be so much easier to shop for their little girl, so I sure hope that this news is 100% accurate. :) On the other hand, I guess I should feel bad that they will have a hard time dressing her in a Batman costume for Halloween... Maybe she will be the only little girl out there who insists on wearing a Batman costume with her mother to the grocery store. I shouldn't limit my new niece already by needless gender stereotyping. I'll have to get right on it and start thinking of some ideas for incorporating Batman into her early childhood. Perhaps Grandma can make her a quilt comprised of blocks of purple pansies amid a field in blocks in the dark hues of Gotham City. (Sidenote to Grandma: Please leave out the Joker, because if he gives ME the creeps, imagine traumatizing your poor granddaughter from the time she is born...or by the time she turns 5 and actually receives this quilt. I'm just teasing, Mom! You know I love you and appreciate the hard work you are doing on Zachary's quilt even as I type this. heh heh)

Anyway, so you can see that I am already finding joy in my new niece. I tried to explain to Zachary and Ashley today that they are going to have a new cousin and that her name will be Leah. Ashley seemed excited too: "A new cousin for me-a!?"

Welcome to the family, Baby Leah, and congratulations to Steven and Amanda!

I Can See How She Might Be a Little Confused...

My dad has developed an interest in woodworking and also likes whimsical characters, so I think that's why my mom bought this statuette for him last Christmas. Right now, it sits on a small table in their living room for all to see. Ashley (age 2 1/2) saw it one day and asked, "Whistle?" My mom corrected her and said, "That's a flute!" And with all the innocence of a little child, Ashley asked, "Heavenly Father plays the flute?!"

*Not that it changes the point of the story, but I found out today that this is NOT an exact replica of the statue on display in my parents' home. The one they have is definitely more stylish...as stylish as a gnome statue can be, anyway.*

My Kids Converse About Christmas Clothing

Last night, after enjoying a meal with their grandparents, my kids wanted to go back to their house. But it was late, so I was taking them straight home to go to bed. I told them that we would see Grandma and Grandpa another day. In fact, I told them, we would see them at church on Sunday since they would be attending Zachary's first Primary program.

Ashley responded, "O-kay, I wear my pwincess dwess! O-kay Mommy?"

I told her that her that, yes, she could certainly wear her princess dress (which actually is her Christmas dress from Grandma--not some sort of Disney get-up) and that Grandma would think she looked beautiful.

Zachary replied, "And I will wear my Christmas shoot!" (That would be his Christmas SUIT.) Unexpectedly, he continued. "And I will bring my guns and shoot all the bad police guys at church."

Ashley, knowing exactly what her brother would be wearing, said, "No, Zachary, you be a PWINCE!"

Jesus is my Autopilot?

After ignoring Ashley's pleas for me to put on It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, I reluctantly accepted the fact that my nap on the couch was over. I might as well let her watch it since continuing to endure her climbing all over me was not the better option. So, I put the DVD in the player and went into the kitchen to check on some brownies that were in the oven. I washed some raspberries and returned to my spot on the couch. Zachary and I were enjoying the raspberries when the DVD stopped on the menu screen. Both kids began a little chant for me to go start the movie for them. My mouth was a little full at the time, but I told Zachary to go press "play"...only it sounded more like, "Pless play!" They thought I had said, "Let's pray," and before I knew what was going on, both kids bowed their heads, folded their arms, and began, "Dear Heav'y Fodder...Jesus Cwist...Amen!"

See? They ARE learning!

Meet My Kids: "Crash and Burn" and "Sick and Twisted"

We had quite an eventful weekend at our house, and since I have been neglecting my blog again, I figured you all (all 2 of you?) would want to read about it. I don't have any pictures this time, but maybe that's why I'm not putting it off like I usually do. So here goes!

Chris spent all of Saturday at school putting in his hours for Law Review after discovering, Friday night, that his project deadline was this weekend and not next weekend. Fortunately (fortunately?) the kids and I were all suffering from colds last week, so we didn't have any plans we were intent on keeping. Though Zachary and Ashley didn't seem to be lacking in energy, I certainly was, so spending the day at home and recuperating was fine by me. I really don't know what I did all day other than try to keep up with them, do a little cleaning around the house, and, in general, move at a snail's pace.

I had no idea when Chris was planning on getting home, but as the day grew longer, I was feeling a little better and was itching to get out of the house. I decided to make a trip to Target to pick up a couple of things. I just needed to summon my inner Executive Director in charge of Ever Accomplishing Anything to get my body moving...and I needed to feed the kids dinner. So, I put a pot of water on the stove with plans for something quick, easy, and gourmet: good ol' mac & cheese. Well, I disappeared for a few minutes to check some email or do something else equally necessary, and in those few short minutes I was neglecting my children, Ashley decides to advance her education in the field of What Happens When I Touch the Hot Stove? This was the first time either of my kids had ever had a burn (Zachary was more of a scholar in the field of Testing the Effects of Gravity on Various Parts of the Body as you might recall.)

Having been inexperienced in childhood burns up to this point, I went in search of my trusty little book full of helpful advice and written by our very own pediatrician, Toddler 411. That might as well be the doctor's name, since all of her expert medical advice is contained therein. It sure comes in handy when I don't really want to pay for an after-hours call or actually have to make an unnecessary appointment. During this time, Zachary was being a great big brother and announced, "Hold on, Ashley, I'm going to go find out about burns! Zachary to the rescue!!!" He was in the computer room, so I half expected him to google it. After leafing through the book, I still wasn't sure what I needed to do. She had burned just her fingertip (perhaps 4 fingertips, but only one was obvious.) The skin was red with a layer on top that appeared a powdery white. (Toddler 411, p. 346: [Third degree] burns may look white.) Was this a third degree burn?!? I was almost convinced it was...but only because it was my kid and I had to be a little paranoid because of that.

Remembering that the doctor's office had recently extended its hours, I made the call. It was closed after all, and I was instructed to either call 911 (if it were a real emergency) or call the nurses at the hospital and pay a $12 surcharge. No way I'm going to pay $12 bucks to talk to a nurse! Those people should be happy to have someone like me to entertain them with my (OCCASIONAL) motherly cluelessness! That is why it's great to have a nurse in the family. I called my sister in Boston to find out if Ashley was going to need a skin graft, or if perhaps she was going to succumb to this macaroni & cheese burn. It took awhile to get a response after being put on hold for what seemed like forever. It was so exciting--like talking to a real nurse! (Insert big smiley face here just for you, Wendy!) My sister had to first consult the internet and then my cousin who works in radiology (both experts in the field of stove-top stuff, I'm sure.) It was nice just to have the moral support on their end, but my sister finally recommended that I just pay the $12 to be told that, no, Ashley did not need to be rushed to the ER where the charges for talking to triage nurses skyrockets from $12 to about $112.

I can see the ridiculousness of my plight now, but it seemed serious at the time. I watched Ashley practically begging me to amputate the burned appendage to ease the pain. Oddly, she was slapping the effected hand with the other. She wanted the pain to go away that badly. I did run the finger under some cool water for about 5 seconds until I decided she didn't like that. My sister convinced me to get a backbone and get that finger back under the cold water. I was glad I took her advice, because it seemed like some relief came the second time around. While she might not be as experienced in critical pediatric finger burns, she is a great cardiac nurse and, over the phone, mind you, single-handedly saved me from having my very own little heart attack. How can I ever repay her? (Feel free to humor me by sending suggestions to my comment box.)

After Ashley had had enough of the cold water, she was still pretty upset. Somewhere between touching the stove and this point in the story, she had also managed to trip over my leg and fall on her face...on the wood floor. Hence the name: Crash and Burn. Blood was coming from some inconspicuous part of her mouth, as I learned only after cleaning up a previously unidentified spot in the bathroom. She'd had a hard night. I held her in my arms and rocked her until she fell asleep and I could no longer leave to go to Target.

Around 8:30, Chris finally got home. Ashley was so fast asleep, I noticed, that she had rolled off of the bed and onto the floor and went right back to sleep. I took the opportunity to take Zachary out for some special one-on-one time with me at Target. What is so special about that, you ask? For one, it occurred when he normally should have been in bed. For two, I made up my mind that I was going to let him walk instead of ride in the basket, and for three, I wasn't going to yell at him for touching things. I was going to let him just enjoy being a kid with a fun mom instead of a grouchy one this time. (In my defense, I think I AM a fun mom usually, but shopping with kids?... Need I say more?) For, like, the ONE thing I really needed to get (which, by the way, I didn't end up buying), we stayed until closing time. He got to peruse the toy aisles almost to his little heart's content. When I was ready to move on and he didn't follow, I didn't have a cow. I stayed fairly nearby so I could hear him when he called out for me, "Mommmmmmy, I'm lost!" This happened quite a few times, so I figured as long as I was within earshot, it was time for him to learn how it feels to be separated from me in a store. All kids need to experience that once or twice before they can genuinely appreciate not being lost.

After our shopping adventure was over, we made a late-night run to Sonic on the way home. That was at Zachary's request, and I knew that, to him, it would mean the difference between a fun time with mom and a truly special time with mom. There are so many things that make this special for him: 1) getting to push the call button, 2) getting to sit in the front seat with me, 3) getting to order just what he wanted (a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup Blast this time), and 4) getting to throw our trash away all by himself like a big boy. Seriously, he jumped at the chance to do that for me. That aside, Zachary really is a special boy, and I enjoyed every moment I got to spend with him that night.

Fast forward to Sunday. Except for oversleeping by about 45 minutes, everything seemed completely normal. Thanks to Chris who always gets the kids ready for church, we actually still made it there on time. The kids were even a little better-behaved in Sacrament Meeting than they most often are. They didn't really fight over snacks or get upset about who had which book. (The key, I learned, is just to forget to pack any at all.) Afterward, they went to their classes and I went to Sunday School. Halfway through, Zachary's Primary teacher came and told me that Zachary was not acting like himself. He wanted her to hold him during Sharing Time, and he was crying a little and saying his ear hurt. He didn't want to leave Primary, so I sat with his class and held him on my lap. Otherwise, he really didn't want to participate. When it was time to go to his class, I gave him the option of coming with me to Young Womens or going by himself to class. He ended up choosing his own class, but there was a period of musical classes where Zachary went to Chris, who brought him to me, and back to Sunbeams when he got sick of YW after about 2 minutes.

As we were driving home, it occurred to me that I could take Zachary in to see the doctor that same day instead of waiting until Monday morning. He was really looking miserable, and after having been out late the night before, he was also sleepy. I called and we got an appointment for 2:00. I had to wake him when it was time to leave, and he was not happy about me taking him to the doctor. I packed him into his carseat along with a blanket and his favorite stuffed bunny for comfort. About halfway there, he started throwing up in the backseat. I might have been pulled over for wreckless driving, but I had a pretty good explanation ready just in case. Luckily, it wasn't "bad"...well, not nearly as bad as it could have been anyway. We made it to the doctor's office and I got one of my "green" grocery bags out of the trunk and put his blanket in it. So handy! I left the bag there so he could use it if he needed to on the way back. (He did.)

Zachary was so upset about having to go to the doctor. He isn't always that resistant, but this time he was especially so. While we waited to go back, he was crying and pleading with me to take him home. "But, Mommy, I want to go home. I'm scaaaaaared!" On and on with that one for a minute. Seeing that it wasn't working, he changed his tactics. "I want to go hoooooooome. This place is BORING!!!!" On and on that went for another minute. I couldn't keep myself from laughing. When that didn't work, either, he tried to tell me that the office was closed so we had to leave. (I'm afraid my boy is getting pretty good at manipulation.) Alternating between tears and wails about being scared or bored, Zachary reluctantly followed when the nurse took us back to a room. We waited and waited. We waited until we BOTH fell asleep. After almost an hour, Zachary was finally seen by the PNP. Sure enough, he has a bad ear infection. Luckily, this is only his second ear infection (and Ashley hasn't yet had one.) So, yes, I really AM lucky and so are they.

I took Zachary home so he could sleep while I went back out to fill his prescription. When I returned, Chris woke him to give him his first dose. That's always torture...for parents and kid alike. It took forever to get the medicine in him, and no more than a few minutes later, he threw it up all over his bed. Ugh. Time to start a load of laundry. Time for Chris to take a shower because a little barf touched his foot. :) While all this was going on, Zachary burst into laughter and repeatedly announced, "Barfing on my bed is FUNNY! Barfing on my bed is FUNNY!" Hence the name: Sick and Twisted. Delirium, you think?

After soaking in a warm bath for awhile and put in fresh pajamas, he slept the entire rest of the day. He slept until 4 a.m. and then woke me just for a drink of water. He seemed to be feeling better and is happier today. After a huge struggle, I got him to take his medicine. The next 10 days of this will be so fun! :)

Happy Monday! (If you aren't happy it's Monday, just be happy for me, because I'm glad this weekend is over!!!)

Counting Down to Candy

Zachary (tonight, and completely out of nowhere): "Maybe next time it will be Halloween behind the church!?" (hope, hope, hope)

Ahh, the Trunk or Treat. It's the most wonderful time of the year...for some, apparently.

Golden Boy

I love watching the Olympics! I look forward to the next Games before the current ones are even over...and that, I'm afraid, is going to be happening too soon for my liking. I really get bitten by the Olympic bug. Like so many others whose blog posts I have read recently, I feel so proud to be an American during this time, but I also appreciate the national pride that ALL of the participants (the athletes, their families, the coaches, the spectators, the vendors who sell roasted scorpions on a stick...everyone, really) must feel when representing their countries during the Olympic Games.

I've been letting Zachary sneak out of his room after bedtime to watch some of my favorite Olympic competitions with me. The swimming, diving and gymnastics are at the top of my list during the Summer Games. Just now, as I went and found Zachary already perched in position and ready to watch, he motioned to the TV screen (as if to excuse himself for not officially having permission to be out of bed) and, with excitement, he announced, "Look, it's Michael Phillips [sic] ...and he is winning 600 golden medals!" Yeah, it sort of seems that way, doesn't it?

Oh, I love that Zachary, too, loves the Olympics already!

You Think I'm Fruity, Don't You?

Today, the kids and I went Kawaii's to get some Hawaiian shaved ice to celebrate my birthday. It was a REALLY hot day out, so this was the perfect way for us to cool down. We just recently discovered how much we love Kawaii's! (Have any of my local friends ever been there, and if so, why did nobody tell me about this before? It is becoming one of my favorite summer hangouts!) Anyway, as were enjoying our mix of cherry and grape, Zachary looked down and said, "It's turning your toenails red!" I couldn't tell if he was serious, but I got a good laugh out of it. :)

Re-Naming the Rubik's Cube

Did you know that the Rubik's Cube is being re-named? Zachary was just looking at the picture of WALL-E that I posted on my blog a couple of days ago, and this is the name he is giving it: The Color Roller Upside-Down Upside-Up Ball Dice. Catchy, isn't it?

More Than Just Your Friendly Neighborhood Bunny

Yesterday morning, while I was getting into the car to take Zachary to an early dentist appointment, I spotted a cottontail bunny sitting near the overgrown cactus that covers the power box between our yard and our neighbors' yard. I tried to show Zachary, but the bunny was easily hidden in its surroundings. That is, until it began to vigorously scratch behind its ear. Zachary watched it closely until I started the car and then announced that the bunny was hopping away. As I pulled further down the driveway and into the street, I saw the bunny again on the other side of the box and pointed it out again. Suddenly, Zachary exclaimed, "Hey, Mommy! That bunny's not scratching his ears or eyes! He's HIDING EGGS!!!"

It's not just the cute things that 4 year-olds say that make me smile--it's that they actually BELIEVE what they are saying. Thanks, Zachary, for brightening my day.

When Playtime Gets A Little Twisted

Zachary and Ashley are having a heyday with some new toys they acquired yesterday for their birthdays courtesy of Aunt Steven and Uncle Amanda. (Don't ask me why, but I always mix their names up like that!) Anyway, Ashley got a new cradle for her dolly and Zachary got a set of power tools for his "workshop". (I think he thinks he will actually be building something with these tools, and today when I asked him what he plans to build, he said he's going to build a car. I think this is great since we could use a bigger car to haul more of our stuff around.)

Zachary and Ashley are like 2 peas in a pod sometimes...the best of friends, usually. And today they were playing so nicely together and sharing their toys so well. Occasionally, Ashley would get mildly irritated that Zachary had the screwdriver she wanted or that he was pounding the plastic nails into the plastic wood all wrong. So, instead of listening to her not-so-mild tantrums about Zachary taking HER tools away from her (She's 2--EVERYTHING is hers), I made Ashley his "Assistant Tool Girl." And there was peace in the land. (For some reason, giving Ashley a title always seems to make life so much easier. Previously, she informed me that "Queen" would be a good one.) It is safe to say that both kids love the tools. And a little later, when I broke out the new dolly accessories and put together the cradle, Zachary was suddenly fond of dolls, too! Imagine that!

So, for quite awhile, my 2 children played harmoniously together with the dolly, then the tools, and then they pulled out the doctor's kit. Not that my kids have scared me yet while playing doctor or anything, but I was curious to listen in while they examined the dolly. Her diagnosis was a broken leg. Ouch. I asked Zachary how the dolly got the broken leg, half-expecting him to concoct some unlikely story about the dolly's mother dropping the dolly after her bath, but he was simply unsure of how it happened. (Yeah right! Try telling THAT to the ER nurse.) So anyway, Zachary requested that I be there to assist with the fixing of the broken leg. All it takes, he said, is an "Owie-Aid" and the "Plunger". (That would be a Band-Aid and the syringe thingy used to give shots.) And, voila, the baby is all better and is resting comfortably again in her new cradle.

What compassionate children I have who would so lovingly care for their wounded playmate that way, I think to myself...and then, suddenly, Zachary pulls out his electric saw and declares, "AND HERE ARE SOME WONDERFUL TOOLS TO SCARE HER!"

OK, now you guys are scaring ME!


Little bundle of joy...
...feeling much better!

And here's my boy:
Is it just me, or is he holding that saw just like a shotgun?

What Part of "NO"...?

Zachary: "Mommy, can we play the shadow game?" (Shadows Over Camelot = fairly complicated adult game with an excess of small pieces.)
Me: "No, Zachary."
Zachary: (jubilantly) "Okay!!!"
Me: "Um, that was a no."
Zachary: "But THAT was a YES!"

Breakfast of Beauties

Do you remember the 70's and 80's when Wheaties, using star athletes in their advertising and on their packaging, claimed to be the "Breakfast of Champions"? Well, if you ask Zachary what he ate this morning, he might lead you to believe that I've been experimentally serving up my own special formula for the "Breakfast of Beauties": chocolate chip waffles, strawberries, and "cold cream." Let me assure you that it really was whipped cream! I promise I don't believe in reducing wrinkles or preserving that deliciously smooth and soft baby skin by shortening the life span of little children. However, occasionally serving up a fun breakfast may be one way to maintain one's youthfulness.