Snowstorm, Schmowstorm

So..um. HI! Yea. Blog. Empty. Hmmmmm.. Must. Fill. Up. Space.

So......... let’s talk about the weather!!! Here in the beautiful DC Metro region we get CRAPPY weather for winter. We are located at some point on the imaginary weather line that means all snow heads north of us, literally to Maryland, and we get what they call a wintry mix: snow, rain, ice, all wrapped into one. Usually Winter in Northern VA is just gray, and rainy, and not even cold enough to brag about.

Now, I happen to enjoy winter. I don’t mind the cold. I hate heat and humidity. Summer is not my season and here it lasts from April through November. Bleeeh.

MMMMM snow is tasty.

Alex standing in his first snow.

So far we have had, ahem, “snow” twice. The first time we had roughly 1 inch, MAYBE 2 inches, but I’m not sure it got that deep. And PANIC ensued! Schools closed, daycares closed the GOVERNMENT shut down! The IQ level of the basic driver plummeted lower than the Dow Jones! My friend Tamara, who grew up outside of Pittsburgh and knows a thing or two about snow, thinks that any person, applying for a drivers license who moved here from any area that never gets snow, be it Florida or South America, must spend, at minimum 2 years living in Buffalo, NY before they are issued a driver’s license. I agree with this requirement.

No need for snowplows when we have Andy and a shovel!

[Digression: for this first snow, as I indicated, panic ensured and no I am not joking. If a terrorist could control the weather, all they’d have to do is make it SNOW on DC and the World’s Most Powerful Nation would come screeching to a halt while someone tries to a) find the snow plow and b) the keys to it and c) also, the sand/salt that they are sure they ordered back in 1969 and have it around here some place]

This silliness prompted Prez. Obama, during some other speechy/press conferency thing to comment, “they don’t close schools in Chicago when it snows” and he meant, when its snows 1 freaking inch. This caused much gnashing of teeth by the good, but high strung people, of the DC Metro area. However, it must be pointed out that HE’S RIGHT!

Join me in a stroll down memory lane. When I was a kid, besides the fact that I walked 10 miles to school, uphill both ways, with nothing but plastic bags on my feet when it snowed, I did actually walk to school. My Junior High School was, according to Google, about 1 mile away from my house (Google says .8 miles). So we walked. Every morning I would start out and as I went I’d met up with other girls in my neighborhood – Loretta and Connie first, Kristine, then Norma. To get to school we crossed, four lanes of traffic on US Highway 30 (Norma lived just on the other side of US 30), with no stoplight or crossing guard. Yes. We did. Sometimes we even looked both ways before we just wandered out into traffic.

I know all about wandering. Here I go now!

One morning my brother and I got up and it had snowed. A lot. I have no recollection of the amount, but suffice it to say it was a lot of snow. I attempted to Google weather from about 1976-78 in Chicago Heights Il but its going to require work that I just don’t feel like doing right now. I do recall the wind chills that day were, COLD, possibly, in negative numbers. However, since school is never cancelled, we got up, got dressed, Mom made breakfast and off we went! It was cold, as I recall, but I don’t recall thinking it was awful. Just cold and I was bundled up. None of my usual walking mates were at their usual spots, but that did not faze me; most mornings we met up, but not all mornings.

I got to US Highway 30 (which was roughly halfway to school) when suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and a voice said, “Maria?!?! Maria?!?! What are you doing?” I turned to see Freddie, the newspaper delivery boy, who happened to live up the street from us. “Going to school” I said as if I was just asked the most stupid question in the world. “School has been cancelled!!” said Freddie, “Its 30 below zero!!!” (so he said, its possible he was exaggerating a wee bit- it was indeed cold). Freddie, being the good guy he was, walked me almost all the home. He evidently thought I was a moron and wanted to be sure I actually went home and did not attempt to get to school. When I got home my Mom and my brother were hanging out, probably drinking hot

chocolate.

So, says Alex, this is proof that my parents, well at least my mother, is not so bright eh?!

John had arrived at his high school to find the doors locked, so he came on home. Google says his high school was .2 miles away, so you see why he was home before me. To this day I wonder why no one (ie. my Mom or my brother) ventured out to find me- I’m not sure there was a car available as I recall we only had one and Dad probably took it to work and they, being no fools, probably did not want to venture out in the cold. They probably were already planning a yard sale of my stuff figuring I’d never return from the cold. Not that I am bitter about any of this....

I had some sort of point to this story (besides the one that confirms we were not the brightest bulbs in the lamp back then), but alas, I lost it along the way. Most likely in a snow drift. Oh, yea. Right. Snow. SCHOOLS NEVER closed back in the stone age.

Anyway, we did get some real snow this past Monday (March 2 ish) where it was something like 5 inches of snow and of course on this day, both DC schools and our daycare opened on a two hour delay. Go figure. Every other school district was closed. I kid you not. The federal gov’t was also on a two hour delay. I of course went to work because why not! While the commute was snowy, there was no traffic. It was awesome.

Alex insisted on walking in the snow. He would walk a couple of feet, stop, cry; walk a couple of feet, stop, cry. If you tried to pick him up or tell him we were going inside, he would struggle ferociously and cry and want DOWN NOW! So. I let him wander around in the snow, crying. I am a good mother, yes? We are saving for his therapy.

And now, more pictures of boysies!

This was at the Museum of Natural History. We think Ian smells a fart. Alex is trying to escape.

Ian feeds his hand to an alligator while Alex takes off with the Hope Diamond

A friend's three year old's birthday party. The Smythe boys waiting for cake.

The Smythe boys know how to PAR-TEE..duuuuuuuuuuuudes!

Ian's face says, will you serve the damn cake already? Alex says, yea! and Andy says, I need more beer.

One week after the snowstorm? It was 70 degrees out. sheesh.

All I want for Christmas....

..is another wife! Seriously. Yes. I know. This should have been written and posted before Christmas. But of course, it is not. Well. Keep reading and you will understand.

Another adult around the house would be so totally awesome. Should I say, another adult I to whom I do not have to pay a salary?

I have a confession to make.

I am holiday/special occasion challenged. Despite my best efforts, I cannot get organized for holidays/special occasions. We keep a calendar on our refrigerator. On it, I will mark special occasions. For instance, “X’s birthday” will be marked on X’s birthday. Then I go about my life. Everyday, I look at the calendar and see X’s birthday marked. Right there! In bright colors! But, the information never seems to pass from my eyeballs to my brain. No. It just disappears. And then, two days, before, or usually the DAY of X’s birthday I will look at the calendar and suddenly my eyeballs spike the information to my brain. OHHHNOOOOO my brain will scream. You did it again.

It’s the same for holidays.

Why does this happen? I have no idea. I happen to LOVE holidays. I also like it when someone recognizes my birthday with a card, or a call. For whatever reason I cannot plan in advance to acknowledge/prepare for others birthdays or for holidays

(true story: Andy hands me a bouquet of flowers; I stare blankly[“why is he giving me flowers?” my brain says becoming alarmed] “Um, it’s our anniversary,” says Andy. “Oh crap” is my reply. (nice reply! Happy anniversary honey! Oh crap!) I look at the calendar. Sure enough. There it is.

(true story number 2: You know how some online accounts make you sign in? and you need a password? And they have “security” questions for that password, incase you forget, and why yes. I forget my passwords ALL THE TIME- and apparently my answers to security questions!! Because “child’s birthdate” is one of those questions. AND YES! I get it wrong. I either enter it wrong, or recall it wrong. Good mommy!)

So now I present (not to be confused with presents) you with The Holidays, Redux:

Christmas tree: The Sunday after Thanksgiving, I bundled up the crew and drove us out west to cut a tree down. It was cold and rainy. Also muddy. Did I mention cold and rainy? On the plus side, hardly ANYONE was at the tree place, which is usually overrun by cars and people. Not that day. Four cars, including ours in the parking lot. That never happens. Andy enjoyed laying on the cold, wet and yes, muddy ground to cut that sucker down

The boys with our quarry. What you can't see is Ian's toy saw he brought along, so he could assist in the cutting

We got it home where:

1. Its sat on the deck for three days until we bought a stand, since it would not fit the old one.
2. Once in the stand it stood naked, in our family room for another two days until we can drag out the Christmas decorations.
3. It takes us TWO days to decorate it.

4. It takes only moments for Alex to remove all the ornaments within his reach and yank down the lights!

The tree had the leans. It looked fine in its natural setting, but once in the stand you could see where the tree leaned left from the middle on up. Note the 500 million gifts. These came from our families!

Speaking of lights, we had the Christmas lights from hell:

Last year I bought many strands of large bulb Christmas lights on sale to festoon the outside of the house! Lights! Festive! Fun! Not being total fools, we plugged ALL the lights in to make sure they worked (the exploding bulbs on a few strands concerned me somewhat, but again, fire hazards should NEVER get in the way of a colorful Christmas display). On the coldest and windiest day of the year (of course!), Andy drags out the ladder and spends a hour hanging the lights on the house and on bushes. Only to plug them in and have them...do nothing.

Much colorful and un-Christmas like language ensues. Over the course of two weeks, he takes them down, plugs in each strand, removes the ones that now do not work even tho’ they HAD worked; then, plugs them together, plugs them all in, strings them back up only to have them...not work. So much for wasting electricity...

Baking catastrophes
I’ve been baking for over 30 years now and this year, it all went south. Not only did cookies I’ve made 100 million times not come out right, my toffee also failed.

I make this toffee every year. It’s easy and good! My sister in law refers to it as Maria’s Crack. I typically send this out as gifts to many folks. This year, no one got any. First my cheapo candy thermometer that I’ve had for years, stopped working. Then the new cheapo one I bought apparently was not accurate. THREE whole pans of the stuff adhered to said pans. And while tasty (although not hard enough to be toffee) I could not use it. It took me an hour to CHISEL the stuff out of the pans. It bent my spatula. I do, however, still have 8 lbs (yes! EIGHT POUNDS- I had TEN POUNDS) of butter in my freezer. If you’d like some, let me know, I’ll mail you a stick or two.

Why yes. I AM posting a picture of the adhesive toffee I had to ply out of the dish.

Sickness:
The weekend before Christmas, when I had hoped to get everything done that had not been done, even though I stayed up late every night for two weeks and got nothing accomplished - I fell deathly ill. My head exploded. (Alex spent the day after Christmas barfing all over his Uncle Doug. Actually Alex spent 5 days after Christmas barfing on pretty much everything)

Presents:
If I usually send you something, you got nothing this year (see Baking catastrophes and Sickness- also inability to organize). THANK GOD for Amazon.com and Andy ‘cause Santa would not have had squat to drop off to the boys. Also Andy’s gifts showed up on Christmas Eve. I lovingly handed it to him Christmas morning in the Amazon.com box in which it came (at least I removed the packing material) Nothing says Merry Christmas like a brown cardboard box!

Opening gifts. This year, Ian was slightly more interested in the gifts. Not much. Once he opened the hotwheels and hot wheel tracks he was done. It took the rest of the day for him to open all his booty. Alex enjoyed the boxes and removing Christmas ornaments from the tree

Cards:
We got them early. Sent them out in waves, but are not entirely clear who may have received them. If you usually receive one from us, and didn’t this year, please, do not take in personally. If you have no idea who we are and received one, well, Merry Christmas stranger!

So Martha Stewart, Kiss my grits honey.

I have removed Santa's head! Cool

I am starting my new year off right by sending all my loyal readers this Christmas greeting! MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! Bookmark this page, since I fear my ability to "do" holidays will only get worse. And yes, this IS your Christmas greeting for 2009. THIS year, I am early! ...............and to all a good night................

He Walks!!

On October 26 we had a babysitter hang out with the boys. Andy and I attended a little gathering to celebrate the soon to be nuptuals of a Naval Academy classmate of his. A week later, Alex was shocking/surprising this very same babysitter with his amazing new act: WALKING! Below is a video I shot, about two months ago - and of course never got around to posting on this blog because that would require me to sit at a computer and actually compose something relatively coherent (yes! Its true! I do attempt to be relatively coherent, although that is desparately out of character for me. Not to mention a lot of work. But, dear reader, you are worth it)

Alex and his amazing walking chili pot! I call this his "Halleluah moment" When he, in the middle of pushing something, or free form standing (ie: not holding on to anything) lifts his arms up to the sky and tilts his head back as if to say, "Halleluah brothers & sisters!!!"

This handy dandy contraption, known as the blue,red and yellow trike (Ian's name/description for it) was purchased around the time Ian seemed to be interested in walking. Its nice, because the child can pull himself up, hold on to the back dohickie handle and PUSH. Alex was pushing this around while on his knees (ok. So I tried doing this and maybe its just because I am much much larger than Alex, but dang. That hurts! walking on your knees!! Give it a try. Also, try crawling. That is also rough on the knees. Maybe its just because I am old.)

Alex also climbs (as you can see on this also roughly two month old video) on the seat and pushes himself around- not very well, as walls and chairs and things tend to frustrate his and his forward motion. He has, figured out how to go backwards too- which is much easier to do. And of course, the piece de resistance:

Ian and Alex both started walking the week of Halloween. Ian in '06 and Alex, '08.

And now, some random pictures of boysies and maybe Andy and I if I find something decent:

Taken at the place called Cox Farms. It is required, here in the 'burbs of Washington DC, that you take your child to a "Pumpkin festival" where they charge you are LOT of money to go in and see small animals trapped in cages, moonbounces, and ride slides. Also, cheesy! This place tho' is quite fun and has some pretty cool and amazing slides. This one is a volcano..and yes, I came down right behind Ian! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEe

Alex is not so sure hay sitting is for him

Its mine. I found it. mineminemineminemine. Um. What is it?

Fun on, um, whatever this is!

And, since I cannot possibly leave this blog without making mention of SOMEONE's bowels. Here he is, trying to squeeze a pumpkin out apparently. Check out that face!

And lastly, a video of "My interview with Ian"

Alex turn's one OR Alexander's really horrible, poopy, crappy, day!

Alex on the day he was born. A wee bit camera shy!

Dear Alex,

You turned one whole year old this month! And to celebrate, you get a trip to the Emergency Room. We were hoping to hold of on this sort of adventure until you were older and falling out of trees and such. But you, being the “go-your-own-way” sort of person you are, had to do this sooner. Please don’t think I am making fun of this. After I hung up the phone with your Daddy, I cried. Partly due to guilt: I had toyed with the idea of taking you there myself two days ago, but decided I was being overly alarmist, plus we had seen your doctor. And then I yelled at you last night because the hours of screaming (by you) had worn me down in a not so good way. And then I cried too. I wasn’t going to hurt you, or me; I was just exhausted as were you. Good thing Daddy loves us both.

Alexander about 2 weeks old

I should have listened to my inner voice and just gone to the ER. I am sure this is a mantra your Daddy and I will have for the rest of your life. Go with your gut. This is my first piece of advice to you. Sometimes your brain spends too much time thinking about things, analyzing, replaying, positing ‘what-ifs’, when really, your brain needs to shut the heck up and your gut needs to take over.

The ladies say I have a certain j'nais ce quois!

Unfortunately, whether it was intended or not, my take away message as a child was, you don’t go to doctors (or, heaven forbid a hospital) unless there is lots of blood (and then it depends on how much is “lots”) AND an appendage is lying on the floor and cannot be replaced via the use of staples or duct tape. We are sorry. It’s not our fault. Personally, my own recollections of visiting doctors as a child are vague. I remember falling off the monkey bars and having to go to the hospital for stitches. After that, I’m not really sure I ever saw a doctor again, except for the orthodontist. Your father on the other hand spent a great deal of time falling off of and out of things and in the emergency room having appendages placed in casts. Your Grandma Mimi once joked that had she taken your father to the ER as many times as she did then, now, she is certain Social Services would have paid her a visit.

Babies are the most exhausting (no, not exhausted, but exhausting) things on earth. Alex snuggles with Daddy.

Digression Alert!: I took myself to an eye doctor when I was a freshman in college. I realized something was wrong while sitting in Psychology 101. It was an enormous auditorium type classroom, there were probably 400 (not kidding. Really) or so of us freshman in the class. I sat in the back because it was sooooo booooooring. Dr. Barry. He was the professor. He was a wizened little man, about a million years old and probably dead (he also probably never went to a doctor but should have. This would have been the conversation his doctor would have had with him,: “Well Dr. Barry, based on my exam, you are clinically dead. Perhaps you should retire now”). Dr. Barry would read to us aloud, from the text book. I sat in the back of the class so I could nap (it was, after all, an 8 am class). The entire class would have sat in the back if there were enough seats. At some point in the semester tho’ it occurred to me, I couldn’t see the blackboard when occasionally, Dr. Barry would stir to life, turn around and write something, possibly useful, on the blackboard. My freshman addled mind finally determined that I needed to see an eye doctor, who said, “gee. I hope you didn’t drive here”. Anyway…

I love my bucket! not so much all the fleece you have surrounded me in. Heck! Its NORTHERN VA!! I never gets like, cold here.

Guts. This is the real problem. And, again, it seems like I am making fun, but really I am not. You went to the ER due to some pretty severe constipation. Through the tears, there really is humor here. Years from now we will laugh about this. Right now, I will reach for another Kleenex and beat myself up for being the worst mother in the whole wide world.

My birthday letter to you has turned to poop in more ways that one.

Your arrival and existence merely brings home the point that, as adults, we really have no idea what we are doing. Security is just an illusion. We go through our days thinking if we look both ways, if we use our turn signal, if we take our vitamins, if we go to the doctor, everything will be okay. Well things go wrong, and decisions get made and well, perhaps they were not the best thought out decisions.

That hat, however, was a FAB-U-LOUS fashion decision!

As you are reading this you are probably thinking, geez mommy, get to the point (actually Alex you are probably trying to chew on the monitor and are getting a kick out of pounding on the key board) So the point is, we love you Alexander! Your first year has brought many smiles, much joy, and new adventures to our lives. We are so glad you joined us. Now, eat your veggies, your fruit and take your laxative in your juice and let’s bring in year number #2 (HA! #2! HA! Get it?!?! Get it?!?!) without the extra excitement of a trip to the hospital! I was thinking more along the lines of a party, with cake!

Happy Birthday Alexander Salamander!

What I did on My Summer Vacation or SERENITY NOW!

Alex having a good time on a bench. Please note the lovely Blue Ridge, or possibly Shenandoah Mountains behind him. Yes. I should know which they are. And no. I don't know. Its been two weeks. We are still recovering from our vacation.

We went on vacation. Yes! Like away. Somewhere else, other than here! We loaded up 2 small boys, one medium sized dog, and about 500 random bags of stuff, plus a stroller and the poorly named "pack n' play" (this, for the uninitiated is an allegedly PORTABLE crib- which weighs approximately 200 lbs, is about as portable as an elephant and packs up just as easily. It was obviously someone's idea as a joke. I am guessing the manufacturer of said device are people clearly do not have children themselves, or have ever actually used the products they sell- fortunately the Pack N'Play was a gift, so while I may sound bitter, I am not really complaining. No. Really.)



I'm not sure why were thought it was a good idea to take a vacation other than we have not really had one in a long time. And, we reasoned, we know lots of people with small children,
younger than our own who go on vacations all the time! We figured it could be done. HAHAHAHAHA. We now assume these so called "friends" have not been telling everything.



We drove to our nice little cabin in the woods, outside of Crozet, VA (which is outside of Charlottesville VA- home of Univeristy of Virginia) It was a tiny two bedroom cabin with a tiny kitchen, living area and a bathroom. Here are some highlights of the grand event:

• Sitting in the bathroom and realizing if I bent my head over and stretched out my legs I could pretty much take a shower!

• Realizing that my hair looks exactly the same whether I wash it at night and go to bed with it wet, as it does if I wash it in the morning and let it dry, unsmooshed on a pillow. Not sure this is good or bad, but it is certainly convenient.

• A slamming screen door.

• Watching Alexander realize he could open the slamming screen door and leave. Watching Alexander leave the cabin, through the screen door; nothing but his little butt sashaying out, waving as if to say, "see ya!".

• Having a little trail to walk down to get to the pond and every morning, going to the lake, with Ian in his PJs so we could throw rocks into the water, look at little fishes and check out the flowers that opened only in the morning on the lilly pads.

• Ian, pointing out every single time we walked down the trail that there were tree roots and he was gonna stand on them.

• Getting our life jackets on, getting Ian in the canoe, pushing it into the water, climbing aboard to only have Ian, start to scream, "I WANNAGETOOOOOUT".

• being in the middle of the lake, in a canoe with Ian screaming, "IWANNNAAAGEEETOOOOOOOOOOUT"

• Ian, dropping trou at the canoe spot, right there, by the road, to pee. Mommy advising that peeing downhill was better than peeing uphill (that way it won't run back on to/in to your shoes. This is good advice that my parents never shared with me and I had to learn the hard way).

• Nobody taking their much needed afternoon naps (this does not include the parents, who never get to take an afternoon nap)

• Ian racing out of cabin, running to the bottom step of the porch, dropping trou, thrusting out hips and peeing with great abandon. Hey! why use a bathroom when you have mothernature?
• The Great Meltdown day, where after three days of NO AFTERNOON NAPS, small children spend the time, roughly between 3-6:30pm whining and CRYING OVER EVERY LAST LITTLE THING; also screaming and gnashing of teeth (mostly us, gnashing our teeth).

• Woody, really really really really really really wishing we had just left him at a kennel.

• Driving to Charlottesville (about a 1/2 hour) to a camera store to figure out WHY our camera was not working. Having the young fellow at the store figure it out and not charge us; also watching a train, while we sat in the car in the parking lot waiting for Andy, go by. It was approx. 500 million degrees out that day.

• Then sitting in another hot parking lot at some random vet's office, while Andy went in to buy flea/tick and heartworm medicine , because we left Woody's at home and he was due for his dose and we were in the woods SURROUNDED by fleas and ticks. This took approx. 100 hours because the lady insisted on signing Woody up as a new patient and she was really really nice as everyone in Central VA is, but slow as molasses and OHMYGOD JUST SELL US THE MEDICATION NOW!!!! Seriously. We promise not to snort it.

• Putting boys to bed at 6:30pm, cracking a few brewskis, and listening to them laughing hysterically and thumping for 45 minutes until silence fell (we have no idea what the thumping was, we did not want to know).

• Speaking of silence... During the day, we would hear the usual sounds of nature. Cicadas droning lazily in the trees; the occassional dog barking; the lowing of cows from an adjacent farm. But, it is a myth that nature is full of silence. At night a gazillion chirping, croaking, droning insects/varmits were partying outside our cabin. As if someone took a recording of every insect that makes a noise, placed the amplifier outside, cranked it to "11"** and let it rip. Holy cow. Glad we had a bathroom inside.

• Learning the hard way that one really must shake out their running clothes and shoes or towels, if one left them hanging over the porch rail outside over night to ensure all SPIDERS were no longer hiding in them.

• Running on some butt kicking hills, in the cool of the morning, in the middle of nowhere (and flushing out the deer) on dirt roads!

• The Great Illness. Contracting malaria/dengue fever/unknown parasitic disease that caused headache, chills, sweats, and body aches. It lasted two days and someone needed to just shoot me, but we were on vacation dammit and we were gonna have a good time no matter what and Maria get up off the floor what ARE you doing?

Ian sitting in a race car at Ruby's house (Ruby was the lovely lady who cleaned cabins and helped out the owners of the place where we stayed)

• Sleeping on a bed that was so incredibly uncomfortable (only on one side, mine, I discovered, when the last night I slept on the other side and said, THIS IS NOT FAIR) that I did not get one decent night sleep the whole time, my back and shoulder hurt and of course I contracted malaria/dengue fever as well.

• Having to give both boys baths, in the shower because there was no tub. Alex was fine for the most part, but omigod, you would have thought Ian was being beaten with a stick. He hates the shower. We kept waiting for the county sheriff to arrive to see what the problem was.
  
• Realizing by day four that EVERYONE in EVERY cabin could probably hear the screaming and crying coming from our cabin because it was: shower time, Alex was looking in the general direction of Ian's trains (this usually sets off much moaning and hysteria), or no one napped and this is what happens when no one naps. We are certain the pleasant couple in the A-frame near us were never going to have children and it was all thanks to us.

• Wishing at times that WE were the couple in the A-frame nearby, with no children and a large cooler of beer.

• Discovering on the very last day the Children's Discovery Museam in downtown Charlottesville. It was a totally hands on place, with stuff to play with and run around and it was air conditioned and like heaven for parents. If only they had a babysitting service (or as Andy said, a bar) it would have been PERFECT. (the nice volunteer, with no sense of humor, said of couse they do not have babysitting [um, hello! I was JOKING] because this is a MUSEUM. Note to volunteer: This ain't NO museum woman. Museums are full of interesting historical items. This had a Thomas the Tank Engine tracks, building blocks, a realy cool thing that involved balls, lifts and tubes, and other things, but it was NOT a museum regardless of the title) We loved this place. It even had a room just for people Alex's age. We all loved this place. Except Woody.

• Getting my revenge when Andy fell sick on the drive home and spent the next two days with chills, sweat, and body aches HA! REVENGE IS MINE. Of course he got to be sick at home AND I ended up unpacking everything myself. He sux.

If I ever get around to it I will post more pictures on Flickr, but don't hold your breath, all these time saving websites take a really really long time to set up.

Thus endeth the vacation. Now I am totally out of vacation time and boy, could I REALLY use a vacation :-)

Big Boy Panties

Dear Ian,

Its been three years now, since you joined our family. And hooo boy, where do I start? We've watched you go from being a sack of potatoes, to rolling, crawling, scooting, standing, pushing, walking, running, climbing. One day you were just a little guy pushing around your trike to a big boy, riding a trike (well, okay. You sit on it. You push the pedals only so far and then steer into parked cars- don't worry. Soon enough you will be pedaling like a champ, making ramps out of random pieces of plywood you steal from construction sites and start jumping over your little brother just like Evel Knevil.)


What can I say. We had no idea how empty our lives were..no. wait! Not empty. But how much free time we had! My goodness. If only we knew what we were in for, we would have planned better. All those half completed do-it-yourself projects would have been done. But now. Well, now they don't seem so important. The house is more rustic that way. Rustic is in vogue. Shabby chic. Its our style. Mainly because there are more important things to do. Like read books about dinosaurs and little Chinese boys and the alphabet and about bunnies and counting and Curious George. There are trains to play with and lego things to build!




Now our time is better spent with you (and your little brother). It is spent laughing at silly things, and learning how to pee in the potty (well, sure if you want to spell your name in the toilet go for it, but just wait until winter, when it snows! Spelling your name is far more satisfying then) and saying please and thank you. And giving mommy a kiss when she is laying on the couch because her head is killing her; and you offer her a kiss. All by yourself. With no prompting from anyone. Its sharing our toys with your little brother ("but not the cars," you say. "they have little parts. Could hurt Alex") Its tantrums and not wanting to eat your dinner or take a bath or go to bed.



Its about hearing our own words coming back to us, in your voice:


"No goofing off"

"Five more minutes"

"Its a big honkin' poo!!" (yes, we are slightly obssessed with our bowels)

"I don't wanna get smooshed by a car"

"First things first"

"what do you say when you burp Ian?"- "Cockadoodledooooo!" (For the record, we did not teach him that, he thought that one up on his own. To which Andy snorted water up his nose and almost drowned laughing)

Its about time. And how it seems to be moving too fast. How our baby has become a little boy and how it won't stop. When you were just a wee baby, strangers would come up to me and coo at you. There would always be one (and always a woman) who would say, Enjoy this time with your baby!! I would always resist the urge to slap them because I hated that phrase "enjoy this time with your baby". It rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe because I was tired and felt out of my element most of the time. Babies? What did I know of babies. Nothing. There is no owner's manual. They just pop out - fine, they don't just "pop" out. But once they are out, there they are. Looking at you for guidance and care and feeding and being fussy and crying and seeming to not notice you at all.

But looking back, I think I know what those women were trying to say. I'm not sure there is even a good word for it. One day our little bald, drooling, chubby person smiled at us, that toothless pure joy of a smile and it was then, we finally understood.

So Ian, while you are now three and struggling to be your own person, be independent of mommy and daddy; we will never forget that first smile, that first laugh.

Happy birthday little man!!

Party on dudes!

D'Alexander Da Great!

The Alexander Action Video!

I've been meaning to post for the last month, but as usual, I am overcome by events most days. This is a euphenism for "too-darn-bloody-tired-every-single-darn-night-to-bother-posting-'cause-I-fall-asleep-on-the-couch-minutes-after-Ian-goes-to-bed-at-8-pm". I ought to turn this blog over to Andy because he can stay up to the wee hours of 10 pm! He's amazing!

As you probably gathered this post is about Alexander. Our little peanut is growing leaps and bounds. And all I can say is, Wow! Its amazing. Its true, we went through this with Ian, but you forget stuff. You truly do. You have to forget stuff or else you:

A) would never have children ever again if you truly truly remembered pregnancy, birth and the first three months

B) um, hmmm..

I think A says it all; also, I forgot what I wanted to say regarding B; SEE?!?! you really do forget stuff.

And being the really bad parents that we are, we never kept any baby books on Ian so we could compare them (which they will need to get use to later in life anyway)- hell I can barely maintain a blog, so baby books are definitely out for me/us.

Anyway, back to Alexander - or as Ian now refers to him, "D'Alexander" or just "D'Alex" - we have no idea why he refers to him this way, but he does. And we of course say, "D'Alex! Not just a city in Texas anymore!" because we THINK we are so funny, but we know how lame we truly are. Um, hi! Where was I? Hey, is this thing on? So just flew in from Chicago..okay nevermind..

Alex has in the last two months, started commando crawling - the dragging of said self across the floor to get one self from one room to the next. He does this well and often just leaves a room forcing us to wonder where he has gone off to. He is now crawling, sort of. He pushes up onto his hands and knees and takes a few "steps" and then stops, makes grunty happy noises (remember how Arnold Horshak, from Welcome back Kotter, laughed? This is the noise he makes. If you do not remember Arnold Horshak this means you are way younger than me, or my parents! Hi mom! Hi dad! Google it - I am sure there is a YouTube of Horshak laughing). He rocks back and forth making thpppppt noises and is so proud of himself. Also, he is PULLING HIMSELF up to stand!!! YES! Stand! The smile that lights up that chubby little face is something else.

Also, he tends to fart when he does his "crawl" hence his other nickname Scooter McTooter. Have I ever mentioned Alex's farting? Probably a good thing that I haven't, let's just say, I gave birth to a frat boy..

AND! AND! aND! he has a tooth coming in, bottom front. He has always stuck everything in his mouth, but now he sticks everything in his mouth and uses that one tooth, which is hugely sharp by the way, I think he is growing a fang, and gnaws with it. He likes to pull himself up in his crib and gnaw on the rail. The crib, which was made for us by a friend because our house, before addition, was so small, a standard sized crib would not fit in the one room available for babies. And no one in the world wants to make a small crib because this is America dammit and everything MUST be huge and unwielding and take at minimum three very large guys to deliver- not to mention the removal of your front door to get it into the house.

Anywho, its a loverly crib, cherry stained and varnished. Alex seems to like the varnish as he gnaws on the crib every night before dozing off. I may try using the "BitterApples " spray that dog owners use to prevent Fido from gnawing on everything. Have I mentioned that Alex's lead test from his 9 month appointment came back fine? Meaning he is NOT full of lead, as we assumed he would be based on the fact he stuffs every inappropriate NOT MADE for infant toy he can find, into his mouth. He is Unleaded! HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA- its a gas! hA! HAHAHAHAHA..There is a reason I should never write when I am this tired.

Also Alex likes to pull himself up on our new fireplace hearth. The one that is roughly a foot tall and all granite with NICE SHARP edges everywhere. Babies, I have decided, have some ancient homing instinct that drives them to always try out their new moves in the worse possible location in your house. His little musical table, which is made for pulling oneself up and stand, and has buttoms when wacked plays tinny musical noises, is of course right next to him; but nooooooo. He scoots straight over to the most dangerous spot in the room. That's our boy! Scoots McToots!

I won't describe his bowel movements, because TMI is TMI - but suffice it to say, they are very very moving events. NO! HA! WAIT! HAHAHAHA...well for him. dramatic. Um, I think for the safety of everyone reading I should stop now and just post pictures of D'Alexander Salamander Scooter McTooter.. (yes, he will never really know what his real name is)

A favorite pastime (Ian did this as well around the same age) is crawling up onto the kitchen shelf and knocking down all the water bottles. Then crawling off with a self satisfied look. I liken it to when Godzilla destroys Tokyo Harbor- well without the fire and the people running away screaming in fear and the fact it was really just a guy in a big rubber suit and..yea,,, just like it

The Step or Climb Every Mountain

Getting into position- Where's my Sherpa?

Concentration

Hey! Its my big brother! Duuuuuuuude!

Playing blocks! Hey check out the thigh rolls!

And of course the money shot!