"Ha ha 3 year old, I beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Should've put it here, but you put it there, and I beat ya! Beat ya Beat ya Beat ya!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
MOTY and FOTY: A Match Made in Heaven
No, I don't sit around and blog when I should be playing with my kids. WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT?
"Ha ha 3 year old, I beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Should've put it here, but you put it there, and I beat ya! Beat ya Beat ya Beat ya!
"Ha ha 3 year old, I beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Beat ya! Should've put it here, but you put it there, and I beat ya! Beat ya Beat ya Beat ya!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
In our jammies
We've been hanging out in PJ's quite a bit these last few days.
Usually, I try to tie picture-heavy posts together with some sort of narrative structure, but not today. Ben is SAHDing it up, and I am at work-- not leaving until my papers are graded, and all 3 classes are ready to go for January. Loooooooong day.
My little man baby
zOMG what big feet you have, my dear.
Th other night, we went out to dinner with Jamie's friends and family to celebrate her undergraduate graduation. The boys were funny and well behaved despite being out a little past their bedtime, so we took them for ice cream on our way back to the car (ice cream? in the snow? the hilarity was almost too much for them). It was so cold they kept their coats on while they ate, and when they were done, we walked through the parking lot with our mouths open, catching fat snowflakes on our tongues-- a charmed outing, the kind that makes me want to cry because I love evreyone so much.
Harry has become a major puzzler lately, and he's pretty pleased with his own efforts
Cleaning out the front closet-- Harry fell back in love with this birthday hat and we couldn't throw it away and someday he'll be on Hoarders.
He was sick on Saturday-- how pathetic is he?
More puzzle pride
At swim lessons. This time, the whole class was just kind of lolling around and paying with toys, but the funny thing is that that's what Harry does all the time in class. He is always the last one to finish a lap, mainly because he back floats and stares languidly at the ceiling every couple of minutes.
SUCH a helper.
Usually, I try to tie picture-heavy posts together with some sort of narrative structure, but not today. Ben is SAHDing it up, and I am at work-- not leaving until my papers are graded, and all 3 classes are ready to go for January. Loooooooong day.
My little man baby
zOMG what big feet you have, my dear.
Th other night, we went out to dinner with Jamie's friends and family to celebrate her undergraduate graduation. The boys were funny and well behaved despite being out a little past their bedtime, so we took them for ice cream on our way back to the car (ice cream? in the snow? the hilarity was almost too much for them). It was so cold they kept their coats on while they ate, and when they were done, we walked through the parking lot with our mouths open, catching fat snowflakes on our tongues-- a charmed outing, the kind that makes me want to cry because I love evreyone so much.
Harry has become a major puzzler lately, and he's pretty pleased with his own efforts
Cleaning out the front closet-- Harry fell back in love with this birthday hat and we couldn't throw it away and someday he'll be on Hoarders.
He was sick on Saturday-- how pathetic is he?
More puzzle pride
At swim lessons. This time, the whole class was just kind of lolling around and paying with toys, but the funny thing is that that's what Harry does all the time in class. He is always the last one to finish a lap, mainly because he back floats and stares languidly at the ceiling every couple of minutes.
SUCH a helper.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Making Merry
This morning, Harry came stomping into our room and said "Dada, mama. I think Santa got fat because he ate too many cookies and milks."
Come and get them, fat man.
Harry and Jack spent the day making cookies for Santa, and to avoid fights, they did it in shifts. First Jack made some snickerdoodles
(You see that blue pot in the background? It was full of delicious chicken and noodles with red onion, carrots, celery, and broccoli. Sounds good, right? And it totally would have been if I hadn't burned it all to shit-- after slow cooking it all damn day --about five minutes before Ben walked in the door.)
(But I digress-- back to the holiday magic.)
His main job was to roll the dough balls in cinnamon sugar, and he took this job extremely seriously.
After the cookies were finished, Jack buckled down and made some cinnamon toast
Where was Harry during Jack's peaceful cookie making encounter? Running himself ragged at Little Gym camp, which he loved so much we are probably going to sign him up for a class next month
He came home, donned his apron, and got busy trashing the place with his sugar cookie making skillz. He had an entire gingerbread unit at school this month (a gingerbread unit? wtf? how much is there to KNOW?) and realized that while he likes decorating, he's not a huge fan of the taste of gingerbread, so we did sugar (also Trader Joe's was out of gingerbread mix and I didn't have a gingerbread unit at school and didn't know offhand how to make it w/o mix and yes, Betty Crocker could have helped me out, but I was at the store already, and my phone doesn't work in that store, so my recipe apps were no help, either and actually? I might be a little defensive because it just doesn't seem like a magical holiday without freaking gingerpeople.)
Like Jack, Harry took his job very seriously
I was starting to get annoyed with him for using so much decorating gel and so many sprinkles and just generally making a yucky mess out of each cookie,
but then I took this picture and realized that he's just a fat-wristed baby who can put whatever crap he wants on his cookies if it makes him smile a baby-cheeked little smile
Harry and Jack in cookie form
Me
Cannibal Harry eating his cookie self
Ah, Little Gym camp. He took a nap and still went to bed at his normal time.
Come and get them, fat man.
Harry and Jack spent the day making cookies for Santa, and to avoid fights, they did it in shifts. First Jack made some snickerdoodles
(You see that blue pot in the background? It was full of delicious chicken and noodles with red onion, carrots, celery, and broccoli. Sounds good, right? And it totally would have been if I hadn't burned it all to shit-- after slow cooking it all damn day --about five minutes before Ben walked in the door.)
(But I digress-- back to the holiday magic.)
His main job was to roll the dough balls in cinnamon sugar, and he took this job extremely seriously.
After the cookies were finished, Jack buckled down and made some cinnamon toast
Where was Harry during Jack's peaceful cookie making encounter? Running himself ragged at Little Gym camp, which he loved so much we are probably going to sign him up for a class next month
He came home, donned his apron, and got busy trashing the place with his sugar cookie making skillz. He had an entire gingerbread unit at school this month (a gingerbread unit? wtf? how much is there to KNOW?) and realized that while he likes decorating, he's not a huge fan of the taste of gingerbread, so we did sugar (also Trader Joe's was out of gingerbread mix and I didn't have a gingerbread unit at school and didn't know offhand how to make it w/o mix and yes, Betty Crocker could have helped me out, but I was at the store already, and my phone doesn't work in that store, so my recipe apps were no help, either and actually? I might be a little defensive because it just doesn't seem like a magical holiday without freaking gingerpeople.)
Like Jack, Harry took his job very seriously
I was starting to get annoyed with him for using so much decorating gel and so many sprinkles and just generally making a yucky mess out of each cookie,
but then I took this picture and realized that he's just a fat-wristed baby who can put whatever crap he wants on his cookies if it makes him smile a baby-cheeked little smile
Harry and Jack in cookie form
Me
Cannibal Harry eating his cookie self
Ah, Little Gym camp. He took a nap and still went to bed at his normal time.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Hanukkah oh Hanukkah
It's over. And every night, Harry tried to blow out the candles. Nice.
They have gotten in the habit of getting a gift when Ben gets home (yeah-- I know it's supposed to be at sundown, but the sun goes down at like 3:00 here in the frozen tundra, so we all light the candles after work)
Harry was a little wary opening his last gift-- he's been burned with PJs and slippers (on 2 SEPARATE nights-- we suck so bad)
BUZZ LIGHTYEAR (yeah, he has like 4 Buzzes, but this is a different one-- he has been NEEDING one whose mission log opens and whose wings pop out and retract. NEEDING it.) When he opened it, though, he said "Oh. I thought Santa was going to bring this to me."
Then I spent 20 or so minutes trying to wrestle it out of the box-- which was totally supposed to be saved to be his space ship, oops. Look at that contemplatory spittle-- you should see me when I write. Also? On the stove? Grandpa Jack's famous spaghetti sauce and meatballs-- fantastic-- even with the boys' "help" and the addition of some zucchini that was hanging around our veggie drawer
Jack has also turned into a grabby little jerkface this holiday season, and he has gotten pretty okay at opening presents, a skill that will serve him well on Christmas morning
A little unsure of his vacuum.
But now he loves it-- insisted on curling up with it on the couch this morning
This is Buzz and Zurg, according to the artist (Jack agrees-- he points to it and says Zhuh and Zhur (buzz and zurg, if you don't speak Jackanese)
Harry worked really hard on this wreath, which lacks the usual cursory paint dashes that are his calling card. Instead, it s fully painted, painstakingly glittered, and adorned with a tiny star sticker that Harry claims to have chosen especially for his project.
Hanukkah has waxed and wined (ha! puns!)
I love cleaning the kitchen while candles slowly burn, but as I walked past the couch to grab the broom from the front closet, I noticed the elf on the shelf ensconced on the couch. I screamed. Ben said he didn't move him. So I tossed him outside
But then I felt bad for him and brought him in. He stayed on the stairs all night, but if something were to happen to us, YOU KNOW WHO'S TO BLAME.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Home Stretch
This shirt was so patronizing that even Jack's teacher, a man who wears yoga pants and does monkey jumps and forward rolls and calls women Mom for a living, made fun of him a little
But really. How can you NOT mock captain Jack the cave man?
A small detail, but I so dig his splayed little toesies
That's all I got, guys. The end of the semester is kicking my ass, as usual. But if the new semester were to start tomorrow, my seminar and one of my public speaking classes (the one with only 6 sections)would be on like a pot of neck bones. The other public speaking course-- the big one? Aaaaaaalomost ready. Now there's just, you know, the end of THIS SEMESTER. Yikes.
I created, administered, and graded my first essay exam this week, and it went well and was actually fun to read (how do you know you're a dork? you looooove reading bluebook essays about Margaret Sanger). Tomorrow the boys and I have to struggle our way to campus and run some unavoidable errands in preparation for a day of staff meetings on Sunday (yep. sunday). But after that? There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I have a meeting on the 23rd and then nothing until next year. Play Doh and really trashy fiction, here I come.
So, Jack. Still a crabby (almost) 2 year old, although it is lovely to hear him say Mama, even when he's whining. At gym, he said bubble and pop and ball and he was yelling something at a baby who was crowding him on the stairs to the balance beam. He kept yelling the same thing, and I stopped an listened, and he was saying "no turn." I asked him if that's what he was saying, and he said "yeah!" It sounded like "nah tah," but I think that's what he meant. An explosion, perhaps?
But really. How can you NOT mock captain Jack the cave man?
A small detail, but I so dig his splayed little toesies
That's all I got, guys. The end of the semester is kicking my ass, as usual. But if the new semester were to start tomorrow, my seminar and one of my public speaking classes (the one with only 6 sections)would be on like a pot of neck bones. The other public speaking course-- the big one? Aaaaaaalomost ready. Now there's just, you know, the end of THIS SEMESTER. Yikes.
I created, administered, and graded my first essay exam this week, and it went well and was actually fun to read (how do you know you're a dork? you looooove reading bluebook essays about Margaret Sanger). Tomorrow the boys and I have to struggle our way to campus and run some unavoidable errands in preparation for a day of staff meetings on Sunday (yep. sunday). But after that? There is a light at the end of the tunnel. I have a meeting on the 23rd and then nothing until next year. Play Doh and really trashy fiction, here I come.
So, Jack. Still a crabby (almost) 2 year old, although it is lovely to hear him say Mama, even when he's whining. At gym, he said bubble and pop and ball and he was yelling something at a baby who was crowding him on the stairs to the balance beam. He kept yelling the same thing, and I stopped an listened, and he was saying "no turn." I asked him if that's what he was saying, and he said "yeah!" It sounded like "nah tah," but I think that's what he meant. An explosion, perhaps?
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