Sidewalk Picnics

It was a beautiful 70 degree fall day today (thank goodness for cooler..yes cooler, weather) and all our neighborhood kids were out playing together. It was lunchtime but no one wanted to go inside, and one kid suggested a picnic on the grass. 

Good idea. Who wants to be stuck inside their house anyways? We made lunches and brought blankets out and intended to have them picnic on the grass in the huge front lawn where they had tons of space. 

But apparently the cool thing nowadays is to have picnics on narrow sidewalks, because the kids set up their blankets and lunches and all crowded together on the sidewalk.

Whatever, at least they're outside!

Sidewalk picnickers

 

Elite Clubmembers

It's O'Bedtime Thirty and I am SO not interested in blogging.

Brad and I just got back from date night: aka leaving Grandma to the boys while we went and did some kid-free fun. Brad had surprised me with tickets to see Tony Bennett in Atlantic City. 

Because it's against Federal Law to live 45 minutes away from A.C. and NOT see Tony Bennett in concert at least once. 

To be honest I wasn't particularly excited about it. I was excited about the date and the live show, but jazz isn't necessarily my favorite. I do however appreciate Sinatra style showtunes and Bennett's voice so that was enough for me to go. And like I said, it's the law.

We were the youngest audience members there by no less than 50 years. In fact, the two entrances were overrun with walker and electric scooter parking. Which I WOULD HAVE taken a picture of except I refused to bring a purse in the casino with me and Brad REFUSED to carry my phone in his pocket. Sigh.

Tony Bennett was an awesome show. He juked and jived and danced and twirled all around the stage and belted his songs with his clear smooth voice. We knew he was old, but not how old. Until we got home and looked it up. Tony Bennett is 86 YEARS OLD. 86 YEARS!!! I will be lucky if I can breathe on my own at 86 years old, let alone sing and dance. Oh wait, I already can't. 

So now we are members of the elite club of seeing Tony Bennett live in Atlantic City before he dies. If he ever dies. 

Somewhere inside there is 86 year old Tony Bennett rocking the microphone

 

 

The Things You Say

I told Calen this morning that he needed to pick up all 3,995 toy cars and trains off the floor and put them in his train table drawers, that there was no physical way he could possibly play with all of those cars at once. 

Calen: "I can't pick up my cars."

Me: "Why can't you Calen?"

Calen: "Because I have a Bandaid on my knee."

.........

Clearly he's too injured to do anything strenuous like bend down and pick up toys. 

::rolls eyes::

No picture today. I didn't even pick up my camera. My mom is in town and we were busy shopping for things the kids didn't need and eating Red Robin.  

Breaking Down the Doors

If only they were this excited about school when they reach 6th grade...

Calen and his friend Egan literally banging on the doors to get into school.

 

Boys Will Be Boys

So the boys and I went to pick up Grandma at the airport yesterday. We got there slightly early so we wandered around the baggage claim waiting for the plane to arrive. It was fairly empty at fist so I was letting the boys run around like wild animals to use up their energy before the long drive home. 

But then a plane (not my mom's plane) came in so the baggage claim area filled up pretty quickly. So I picked up Cam much to his devastation so that I wouldn't have to try to find him through a crowd of people. Cam, thoroughly displeased with my decision to pick him up, decided to throw an ungodly public display of rage by screaming, throwing his hat, kicking his legs and arching and twisting his back in a noble effort to squeeze himself out of my grips. 

While I was busy with the mutant, snarling ogre in my arms, I had taken my eyes off Calen for a second. Just for a second. 

I glanced down to make sure he was still there, only to find my son turned around, bent forward, pants down around his knees showing his bare ass to the world and announcing, loudly: "Look see my BUTT?! It's my butt!! Hahahahahaha. Butt."

Number one, how do kids know that butts are "funny"? This is not a learned trait. Second of all, What possessed him at THAT moment to show 300 complete strangers his bare bottom is beyond my brain expanses. But imagine what a spectacle I was having one screaming, thrashing kid with snot running down his face and another standing next to me mooning all of Philadelphia Airport. I'm pretty sure TSA was moments away from arresting us for being a terrorist threat. 

I did manage to find a third extended arm at that specific moment to reach down and somehow yank his pants up. Then I decided that we were moving to the other side of the airport and prayed no one followed me. 

Looks innocent, doesn't he? (holding up his apple school project).

  

It's The Most Wonderful Time Of Year...

It's GOBBLER Season at Wawa! The most wonderful time of year!

What's a Gobbler, you ask?

It's a hoagie.

Not just any hoagie.

This convenience store masterpiece has fresh hot turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and it's drowning in brown turkey gravy. All in between two toasted rolls.

Tonight was my first Gobbler of the year (they only serve them in the fall). 

Divine. 

I shouldn't even bother cooking Thanksgiving dinner this year, I should just order 10 or 12 of these. 

Amazing Gobble Goodness

 

Cell Phone Cameras...

....are pretty good when you actually decide to spend some money and get a nice shiny new awesome cell phone. 

You know, awesome...for a cell phone camera. But it's nice when I don't feel like hauling around my 75 pound tank of an slr camera. 

My new weapon of choice is the Samsung Galaxy S II. Which is T-Mobile's answer to the iPhone. Yeah I know the III just came out. It's also nearly $500 after taxes and fees. Yeah. No. The II is just fine. I'll survive not having the latest cutting edge technology.

 
 

Calenism of the Day

It's one of those days. Camden has been SO crabby due to his constant runny nose and cough (we just can't seem to shake the Cape May crud) that he seriously went to bed at five.freaking.thirty.pm today. Yikes.

To get Calen out of the house while Cam was being a sick turd, we stole borrowed a construction cone that was wasting space in the middle of our field next to our house and used it as a T-ball tee for the kids to play a little sandlot baseball with. 

My poor little Southpaw had trouble swinging from the left (because I have no freaking idea how to teach him how to swing left-handed) but he still had fun playing with his friends. 

Redneck T-ball

And now for the Calenism of the day. 

Calen was sitting in time-out on his stool in the kitchen and Camden came in to investigate (as he usually does). I hear Calen yelling at him:

"NO BABIES! Get out the kitchen, I in trouble!"

....seconds pass...

Camden: "Hiiiiii!!"

Calen: "BAY-beee!! Get OUT the kitchen now!! I in TROUBLE!"

Camden: "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah yeah."

Calen: "GO!! Out the kitchen!"

Which of course I couldn't stop laughing. At either of them. 
 

Calen Vs Enchilada Bake

My kids are such picky eaters. 

Correction: CALEN is such a picky eater. Camden will eat anything. Including dirt, cardboard, bread clips and cat food. 

I refuse to be a short-order cook. The only time that the kids will eat something other than what I cook for dinner is if it's something too spicy that Brad and I want to eat (especially since I have to try all these amazing Pinterest recipes I find). Otherwise, the kids will eat whatever is for dinner. They don't necessarily have to clear their plates but they do need to need to make a good dent. If they don't like it, they don't get anything else. 

Spare me the hate mail. I do not starve our children. With main courses (especially new dishes that I try and not positive if they'll like it or not) there is always something on their plate that they DO like, like a piece of cheese or hard boiled egg or applesauce. And they always get what they want to eat for lunch and breakfast. Unless they ask for like ice cream and candy corn for breakfast. That usually doesn't happen.

Tonight I made a yummy kid-friendly chicken and bean enchilada bake. There's nothing in there that the kids wouldn't like. It's like, shredded chicken and beans and spiral noodles and tomatoes and enchilada sauce and tons of cheese. There's some red peppers in it but they were big enough that they could be picked out. 

I don't use Calen as a judgment as to whether the meal is kid-friendly or not. Because anything different to him is disgusting even before it ever enters his mouth. I use Camden, because if it's truly gross to a child's palate he won't eat it. 

Camden devoured it which means it passed the kid test. Calen however was certain it was going to poison him so we wouldn't touch it. He'd take a bite (after much threatening convincing) and then pretend to gag which causes him to nearly throw up ::rolls eyes::. 

Calen vs Enchilada Bake

I tried to bribe him tonight by saying if he cleared his plate (seriously, like six bites. Kid bites) he could have a special treat for dessert. Dessert is a very rare commodity in our house so offering it as a reward for eating dinner is like getting a Gold Medal. And he really wanted dessert. 

Except it meant he had to eat the poison that is enchilada bake. Six entire bites of it. So he sat there. Forever. 

Camden ate all his food so he got a little bowl of sliced strawberries with whip cream. Which he ate in front of Calen. I figured that was pretty good motivation. Strawberries are Calen's favorite. 

But Calen kept whining and kicking his food around his plate with his fork. 

Brad and I cleared the table and then we sat down with our bowls of dessert. And even teased Calen a little by going "Mmmmmm YUM" after each bite and promising Calen that he too could have dessert if he ate his dinner.

More toying around with his food. And drinking juice. And using his fork as a space ship above his head. And making faces at Camden (who by the way was completely done with his dessert by now and was licking his bowl clean. Literally). But no eating.

Camden licking (the outside) of his bowl clean staring (and taunting) his stubborn brother.

Brad and I cleaned up all the toys and vacuumed the floor and fed the dogs and cleaned up the kitchen (all our evening chores). We cleaned up Cam and put him in jammies. 

And Calen STILL just sat there. I told him he could get down if he was done. But he kept insisting "I want strawberries and 'ice cream'!" so he wouldn't get down. But he wouldn't eat either. 

I told Calen I was putting Cam to bed and if he wasn't done eating by the time I came back downstairs he was going to bed without dessert. By now it had been 45 minutes of him sitting at the table. I'm pretty sure he was expecting us to break down and just give him dessert without him finishing dinner. This was a battle of wills. And the only person in this house more stubborn than Calen is me. 

I came downstairs after putting Cam to bed (maybe ten minutes) to Brad grinning victoriously and whispering to me: "Calen ate his dinner." I walked into the dining room to find Calen with a huge shit-eating grin eating his hard-earned strawberries and whipped cream.

Victory for Calen (victory for Mom and Dad too)

Jeebus Calen, if you had just surrendered an HOUR ago you could have had dessert with the rest of us. 

In the end, we all won the battle. We got Calen to eat his dinner and he got his special treat.  

Aren't we just the worst parents ever? 

Chance Has Met His Match

So I was coming back from grocery shopping this evening and I opened the back hatch and THIS GUY suddenly came flying in like an air raid attacking my gallon of milk:

Yes, it's a praying mantis.

I know nothing about praying mantis's. (is that even the proper way of writing it?) I've never even seen one in real life before today. 

What I do know is that they're BIG. 

And they fly. 

And their legs are huge and they have little boxing arms in the front and when they're pissed they stand up and box you. Or something. 

Did I mention it's HUGE? 

I am not afraid of bugs, but I did not want to touch it. It freaked me out. I was afraid it was going to knock me out with it's little boxing arms and then pin me down and chew out my eyeballs or something. It was big enough to do so. 

But I HAD to catch it!

So I ran inside and grabbed a mason jar and caught it. And the little bastard was violently attacking the mason jar. This was a dangerous situation. 

So like any good nature lover I brought it inside to take a picture and then decided to see who would win a battle to the death: the mantis, or my dog. 

Chance vs Mantis round one DING! Mantis TOTALLY kicked the crap out of the dog as he kept trying to bite it and then FREAKED out when it would punch his lip.... and then cling to it and not let go! He'd shake his head violently and the mantis would go flying...rinse and repeat. 

Juno is a much smarter dog and sat next to me as I video taped the carnage. She knows better. 

Finally Chance would just snatch up the mantis in his mouth and walk around the house in circles for several minutes. You could even see little legs hanging out. There was no way the damn bug could survive. 

Or so we thought!!

That damn thing just would.not.die. Chance would spat it out and it would leap up and attack him and the battle was on again.

In the end Chance did kill the mantis. After like ten minutes.

Good killer puppy.  

Monkeys on the Tire Swing

Seriously, aren't tire swings just the best thing ever invented? 

Camden recently discovered the tire swing. No, he is not securely fastened to the swing in this picture. He is just sitting on the swinging tire hanging on to the rope...tightly. If he had let go he would have just slid right off. 

I was pretty impressed with how strong he is. 

I always said he was a monkey.

 

His First Pair Of Chucks

I love Converse shoes. 

Who doesn't?

Actually, I don't like them for me. They seem to run narrow and my feet are never comfortable in them. Maybe I need insoles in them or something. But I love how they look. And in the end that's all that matters. 

Oh the things we do for fashion.

I've wanted to get little baby Chucks since Calen was conceived. Like I found out I was pregnant and the first thing I thought was "YESSS I can buy little baby Converse shoes!"

Okay maybe that's not the first thing I thought about. 

But they're (usually) outrageously expensive for a little rubber sole and some canvas. So I've been reeeeeeeeeally good and in the last 3.5 years of having little boys and have not bought a single pair of them no matter how badly I wanted to.

Until now. 

I went into Target. Which was my first mistake. 

How is it I can go into Target to get one thing and end up with 25 items in the shopping cart before I even leave the dollar seasonal section right by the entrance?? Target sucks out my frugal soul. 

I went into Target specifically for shoes for Cam. I had bought him little canvas shoes (not Converse) a couple weeks ago but I swear to God the kid has two different sized feet, because one fit but the other I literally could not cram his fat foot into no matter how hard I shoved. Not to mention the kid's favorite pastime is pulling off/kicking off/finding any way possible to remove shoes from his feet so I needed a pair that I could weld to his skin were more challenging to get off. 

And there, in the kid's shoe aisle, were the most adorable little Converse slip on shoes you ever did see. And they were only $19.99 as opposed to $19291.99+taxes and your firstborn child that they usually charge. 

Cam's first pair of Chucks

 Now how could I say no?

So finally, finally, I bought Camden's first pair of Chucks. 

Today was the inaugural Wearing of the Chucks day. They fit great and best of all: Cam is incapable of removing them. Even in the car where he will do NOTHING until he manages to rip them off. But not these. Ha! You get what you pay for.   

He likes to stomp in them. I like that he keeps them on.

 

Cardboard Box Magic

I ordered four things online from two different places. They weren't enormous things so when UPS came today I was shocked to open the door and see a freaking skycraper of three huge cardboard boxes blocking the doorway.

Really Toys R Us? You couldn't condense Woody and Buzz Lightyear into one box?

Since these were Christmas presents I told Brad to distract the kids while I took the toys upstairs. And what better way to distract them with than cardboard boxes? Instantly they were cars, castles, airplanes and houses. 


I shouldn't have even ordered toys. I should have just ordered boxes. 

So after dinner tonight Calen and I cut up, colored and taped together two of the boxes to make a super awesome space ship. Which provided the entertainment for the rest of the evening (and probably all day tomorrow too).


Why can't adults appreciate cardboard boxes as much as kids do? Instead of buying a thousand dollar couch I could just throw a pillow in an appliance box and sit in it when I watch reruns of Cops. 

And best of all all I need is a steak knife and a box of crayons to customize it however I please. 

Calen in his space ship "shooting" space aliens (Camden)

 

Our Day Out With Thomas

Calen has loved Thomas the Train since before he could talk. In fact one of his first words was "choo choo" (more like "Choo Choooooooooooooo") and he would squeal and dance in circles whenever the Thomas show opening music started up. And since then, he's acquired a respectful amount of Thomas paraphernalia: toys, clothes, sleeping bags, movies, etc. And last but not least his uber metal Thomas toy train collection and tracks that he plays with every.single.day. 

While he's finally starting to outgrow Thomas, as in not begging to watch it every day, it's still one of his all time favorite characters. And when I heard a little rumor that a real Thomas the Train showed up in Some-Random-Town Pennsylvania and gave rides and there was a whole Thomas festival, I ran out and bought tickets. 

In February. 

Hey, plan ahead right?

In my defense I heard it sold out pretty quick. And I wasn't about to miss out on my opportunity to win my Mom of the Year award and trophy among local three year olds. 

Also, we didn't tell him until TODAY. Because I didn't want to hear "Are we going to see Thomas today?" every single day for the last SEVEN months.

Three hours away from home lies Strasburg PA, the heart of gorgeous farmland and rolling hills and Amish country and all that fun stuff. Right away when we got there Thomas himself was chugging into the station for his first ride of the day (ours). We had a little bit of time so I asked Calen if he wanted to go "meet" Thomas first but he said absolutely NOT, he needed to get onto Annie and Claribel (the coaches) immediately. So we did. And thus started an all day shit-eating grin on Calen's face that would not disappear until we left. He announced to the entire coach car that we were sitting in "Claribel" (we were sitting in the second car) and that he was going to take us for a ride around the "Island of Sodor" (he was fully convinced that we had traveled to Thomas' island and was pointing out the name of the station, the "steamworks" where they fix the trains, etc). This ride was pretty short, maybe 20 minutes total. But Thomas' whistle sounded just like on the show and it was a real steam train so you could hear the steam whooshing and the chugging and all that fun train stuff that every little boy dreams of. 

Shit.eating.grin. (on "Claribel" on the Thomas train)

After our first ride we got off and "met" Thomas (i.e. take the obligatory picture with him..it...whatever). Thomas' eyes actually move which was really cool but kind of creepy. 

The boys and Thomas!

We then saw a little diesel train chug by on a different track that was giving out rides. Calen immediately said it was "Mavis" (some little diesel train on the show that looks and sounds just like this one...pretty clever of Calen actually). So of course we HAD to ride Mavis. 

Right after that we dove into a line to meet the Sir Topham Hatt (the conductor boss guy on the show). The line took foreva - long enough that I let Calen eat half of his lunch in line. And when it was his turn, he even obediently ran up to him and instantly turned around and smiled at me so I could get a picture. He is well trained that boy.

Sir Topham Hatt

We took a lunch break after and then went into the Thomas shrine, aka the gift tent. (yeah, it wasn't a store, it was an event tent. A gift event tent. A HUGE ONE). He somehow found two trains that he didn't own and picked them out as his special treat for the day. I managed to smuggle a couple things into the diaper bag for Christmas. 

And just when we thought we had managed to escape the goodies area only spending $20, we found a buggy. An Amish buggy. Selling Amish things. 

And how could I walk pass the charming little Amish lady in her bonnet selling the most adorable hand crafted wooden toys you ever did see?

So we decided to get a couple of heirloom wooden toys for the boys. You know, toys that they aren't allowed to play with until they are old enough to be incapable of causing harm to them. Like when they're 30. But really, something special that they can pass down to their sons and their sons' sons and so forth. 

Besides, when am I going to be able to buy handmade Amish toys out of the back of a buggy again any time soon? Like, never. 

Goodies. Two new trains and two Amish made toys for the boys.

We had time to kill before our next (and last) train ride so Cam and I played while Calen rode on this mini hand-crank train fifteen thousand times. 

And then the grand finale: the BIG, authentic real steam train came and took us on a forty minute train ride in an open car right through beautiful Amish country. You could even see them out plowing their fields with their horse-drawn plows. By this time the boys were pretty tired and trained-out, so Calen mostly just laid on the seat and played with his new trains while Cam fussed in Brad's lap. But Brad and I really enjoyed this ride as it was more "grown up" and the scenery was incredible. This area had everything that south Jersey doesn't have. Hills, farms, grass, and a smell of freshly turned earth (as opposed to Jersey's smell of cigarettes and burning skin from over-tanning). 

Our big Strasburg Railroad steam train ride

After this train ride we said goodbye to Thomas and headed home. We did not make it out of the driveway before both boys were unconscious and drooling in their carseats. 

And all of this before 2:30pm. 

Great day. TONS of fun. Going to be hard to outdo a day like this for Calen for the next rest of his life.

 

 

 

Strategy

It seems the only way I can get Cam to hold still for a picture is to sit him on something elevated that takes him a precious few seconds to figure out how to get down. And before those seconds are up, I need to distract him. Usually by having Daddy make strange noises behind me. And for once in his life, Calen looked at the camera at the same time. Thanks boys. 

 Also note: both boys are proudly wearing their weekend colors. Calen sporting his UW shirt for Saturday's WIN, and Cam in his Seahawks uniform that miraculously still fits (even though he wore it at 6 months old) for today's WIN. Seattle sports sometimes DO prevail!

Sad SuperCam

It' blurry, but Camden's face depicts the type of week we've had. Between illness (that's infected all four of us now), not sleeping well and teething from certain 16 month olds, we've just been a household full of crankiness.

Even Cam's superhero counterpart couldn't find inner peace today. 

But it made a funny picture.

...yes, I do dress my children. I am fully aware that he was wearing the same pajamas in yesterday's picture. In my defense, yesterday's picture was moments before bedtime, and today's was this morning when they woke up. They do wear clothes. Some days they even wear shoes (gasp! I know). I promise.....

Even crabbiness is cute

 

Three Inches Taller

Camden uses strange things as stepping stools. Like his sippy cup. 

It still didn't make him tall enough to touch the tv. 

 

Southpaw Circles

Well I'm sick again with a sinus infection (because I haven't been sick enough this week) so we're keeping things short and sweet.

Calen brought home a little work paper from school today that had a bunch of dotted circles that he was supposed to trace. 

Yeah right. He's three and his favorite way of drawing or coloring is scribbling as hard and as fast as he can. Lines don't exist in his little world. 

P.S. He's left-handed. So I can't just sit down and show him how to hold a crayon and draw. When I try to color left-handed I look like an orangutan with severe brain damage and a broken hand. 

However, once I actually looked at the paper I was shocked to discover that he had traced the dotted lines pretty darn well (for being three). 

He probably had a teacher hold his hand while drawing.

So to prove the theory I gave him a crayon and asked him to draw a circle (one of the dotted circles wasn't drawn on yet). 

And he grabbed the crayon with his little left hand and very carefully traced the circle near-perfectly. 

I'm officially impressed.

P.S: Calen then tried to color in the circles and did his classic scribble hurricane. There's the Calen I know and love.

Yeah I know it's hard to see. But click on it and it'll get bigger.

 

 

Just You and Me

It's Calen's second day of school and I had yet another morning with just me and Cam.

Good Lord one kid is SO much easier than two. Especially when the one leftover is the one that can't whine or ask a thousand questions or never.stop.talking. The silence was amazing and I wish I could wrap up and stuff into my ears when the kids get too loud. 

I really like our little time together each morning.

being a monkey at the playground this morning

 




 

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

My (first) baby boy started school today. 

*Wails* *Sobs* *Throws Fit* *Snot Runs Down Face* *etc*

Okay actually, I did NOT cry today. Which I thought maybe was a bad thing? Shouldn't I be more upset? This is the first day of 14 years of school. (as long as he doesn't get held back. Which he better not.) Though it isn't like REAL elementary school, just PRE-school, so maybe I'm just saving my tears until Kindergarten. 

Or maybe I'm overthinking it. 

Where WAS I?

A friend was gracious enough to offer to watch Camden this morning so that I could drop Calen off alone and take pictures without having to worry about baby brother. I really enjoyed our little special morning together. His little school is small rented building attached to a church in downtown Cape May. As we walked up to the doors (which were locked) he took it upon himself to say hi to all his new classmates (ten or so) and I watched him take on a leadership type role as he convinced everyone to play in the gravel. Great influence. This is bizarre to me because usually Calen is a follower, not a leader. But it was fun to watch. He's definitely not shy.

Ready for his first day of school!

The doors opened and they hung up their little backpacks and went to the play area to play with a plethora of "new" toys with his new little friends. 

He didn't give a crap that I was leaving. I even had to beg him for a kiss when I left. Which he happily gave to me and then turned his back to me as he found an entire box full of Woody and Buzz Lightyear toys. 

Exactly how I wanted it. See you in three hours. 

Running to class

I picked up Cam and we went on some thoroughly exciting errands to the doctor's office, Walmart and Kmart. (ooooh, thrilling). Surprisingly, little Cam and I had an absolute blast. For the first time ever, it was just he and I. He really comes out of his shell when he is not being overrun by his big brother. We took our time and pushed the cart through the aisles and Cam would point at things and go "Yeah!" (his way of saying "Hey, look at this!"). We tried on silly hats and played with toys. It was a fun time together.

At noon I went to pick up Calen. When the teacher finally opened the school room door for us to come in, all of us parents gave out a resounding mushy "awwwww!" as we see two tables full of tiny little people sitting silently in tiny little chairs with their backpacks in front of them waiting patiently for us with little smiles on their faces. 

Who ARE these teachers, lion tamers? How the hell did they transform our monkeys into little short people in three short hours? And it's only the first day. 

Calen informed me RIGHT as he saw me "I have papers in my backpack!" Which clearly was extremely important to him. (the papers were actually pictures that he colored). Then he told me that he "played elephants and cars and big trucks and race cars!!!" And later informed me that he sang "itsy bitsy spider" and "Wheels on the bus" and that he liked school and was 'xited' (excited). School is officially a success. 

Because we like any excuse possible to celebrate and give surprises to our kids, Calen had a new small Lego set and a toy snake waiting for him in his carseat to celebrate his first ever day of school. Then after dinner we took him to Yogo Factory for frozen yogurt. I figured it's a pretty damn good reason to celebrate.   

A Staged "Awwww" Moment

Brad barbecued dinner tonight and I took the opportunity to unload the kids on him and get a moment of quiet time encourage the kids to go outside and play in the back yard with Daddy. 

After ten minutes or so of quiet household bliss, I notice that it is strangely silent outside. Silence + outdoors + boy doesn't happen. What the hell? Did they snatch up the flank steak and make a run for it? So I peaked out the back door to find this:

There they were all playing quietly in the sandbox together. All together now: Awwwww.

Of course, by the time I got the camera and opened the door Brad was getting up to go check on the steak. In which I silently flailed around and mouthed at him to get his butt back down there and act just like it was 90 seconds ago. And then Calen stood up and Brad made him get back down like HE had been 90 seconds ago. So this was totally staged. But it was original 90 seconds earlier. 

"I DONE you take a pictures!"

Calen starts school on Tuesday and I really wanted to get some pictures done for preschool, especially a certain pose that I saw on Pinterest that I HAD to copy. Hey, if it's on Pinterest, it's MEANT to be copied, right? As long as I don't claim it as an original idea....which I'm not.

The weather today was perfect and I mean perfect (75, sunny and no humidity) so I decided it was a good time to do his first day of school pictures. Because let's face it. If I waited until the actual first day of school, I'd be scrambling to get the kids ready and fed, Cam would probably poop in three diapers to slow me down, Calen would be bouncing off the walls because he's so excited and I'd be too emotional and jittery to keep my camera in focus. So we do pictures today. I put him in his little first day outfit and brand new shoes and took him out into the back yard. (Yes, I will take a picture or two on his actual first day). 

Calen, for once, was a really good sport. He held still. He smiled. He looked at the camera. It was a God-given miracle and I got all the shots I wanted, and some fun impromptu ones that I wasn't expecting. Like these ones (and yes I know his shorts are too long. They are 5t and WAY longer than I expected. Oh well. Room to grow):

He was doing so awesome that I told him he could have two pieces of candy corn (the new bribery tool in the house). He said he could have five pieces. I said fine. Bartering little turd. But I wasn't done taking pictures, and finally he got tired. But instead of whining like he usually does, he folded his arms, gave me a fake angry face and said:

"I DONE you take a pictures!"

Which actually made me laugh out loud! Especially with the mild speech delay struggles we've had with him. And after such a cute but angry little sentence, how could I force him to continue? (though I did take a picture right at that moment. Because it was just too cute. In an angry sort of way)

So we stopped. And he got his five pieces of candy corn. 

And yes, I did get THE shot I was looking for: (drumroll please)

 I told him to yell "Preschool!" And he did. And it made the perfect.shot.ever. 

Also: When I asked him what he wanted to be when he was big like daddy, he told me: "A Policeman an fireman an drive ambulance an drive hospital motorcycle (because those exist) an drive school bus an be Super Hero Calen an be PIRATE!" After a long conversation we finally narrowed it down to either a policeman or a fireman. 

 

 

 

It's A Tums Kind of Night

Well. You don't get a real blog tonight because I've had an upset stomach all day and am so uninterested in doing anything other than chew on Tums and wear purple and watch my University of Washington Huskies play #3 LSU live. And as they most likely get absolutely annihilated and my stomach gets even more angry (because I'll be angry), I'll eat more Tums. 

Everything is better with Tums. 

And that's that.

Go Dawgs.

And Go Tums.

The Things You Say

We started the morning right by my three year old throwing around some f-bombs before I could even get the milk in his cereal.

"Mommy, I watch fucky?"

"WHAT?!"

"I watch pirate and fucky the boat?"

"You mean Bucky the boat?"

"Yeah. Fucky."

He means Jake and the Neverland Pirates. And the boat's name is Bucky. BUCKY. With a "B".

Later this morning, he proceeded to announce to all the occupants of Kmart that he loved Fucky and that there was a Fucky toy over in the aisle. While I'm whispering loud enough for them to hear "Bucky Calen. BUCKY." 

Then this afternoon he announced to Brad as he was going up the stairs:

"HEY, Daddy come here. I want to talk to you."

'I want to talk to you'? Did he really just say that?

"What is so important, Calen?"

"I watch Pirates and Jake and Fucky today."

In which Brad slowly turns his head wide eyed at me. And instead of giving him an answer, I just shrugged and walked away. Sometime it's more fun to not explain the situation and bake their noodle a little. 

I did explain it to him later during dinner. 

Also, Calen is forbidden to watch Jake and the Neverland Pirates until he can pronounce BUCKY with a very obvious "B" 

....okay, I'm not that mean. But the first call I get from his outraged preschool teacher means another round of speech therapy.  

today at the playground

 

 

A Kangaroo In A Puddle

First of all, Calen had his big boy Preschool Orientation today. We got to check out his school and meet his teachers and fellow little classmates. Luckily I know a handful of of the kids (Coastie brats like Calen) so there were a few slightly familiar faces. Not that it mattered to my social butterfly who will be friends with everyone and anyone. The only thing that Calen disliked about his new school was going home. I think he's going to like it. 

We got home just in time for a torrential rainstorm. I can see that fall and winter are going to be tough seasons for us because Calen kept begging to go outside and swim, play soccer, etc. I told him it was raining. He responded by saying "I go outside and splash in puddles with my boots?!" 

This kid would go outside if a volcano was erupting and molten balls of fire were dropping out of the sky.

Well I guess there's no point of a rain jacket if we don't use it, so I threw it on him (his rain boots are too small at this point) and took him outside, where he gleefully spent the next half hour running and jumping into this large puddle in the parking lot in his bare feet (at one point I convinced him to at least wear sandals).

Well, he IS a Washington boy after all. Rain is a part of daily life. 

Yeah. If you were one of the 192 cars that drove by and slowed down to stare at the crazy person under the umbrella watching her kid run back and forth barefoot in the parking lot, that was me. 

 
He announced to me at one point as he was jumping over and over "I'm a kangaroo in a puddle!" and by the time we brought him inside he was soaked head to toe, but he got his outdoor time and I got some pretty cute pictures. 

Wordless Wednesday (with words)

Daddy was fixing using doing something with the vacuum cleaner. He turned it on just for a second to test it or use it or something. This got Camden's attention so he marched over to the vacuum, stuck his head in it, and yelled:

"BAAAAHHHHH!!!!" 

Just to make sure he was not out-yelled by a vacuum cleaner.

He then continued to crouch down and help daddy fix use do something with the vacuum. And he and Daddy had *almost* matching Seahawks jerseys too which made it extra cute. 

Hey vacuum, NO ONE is allowed to be louder than ME.

Entering Present Day

Brad and I finally decided to take the plunge and entered the 21st century:

Welcome, 150 channels and NFL Sunday Ticket! It's nice to meet you.

Yep, after almost two years of not having cable tv, we finally said "this is outrageous" and got Directv. With DVR. And NFL Sunday Ticket. And HD. And All that fun stuff. 

Yes, we have gone THAT long without cable/satellite tv (even though we are tech junkies). No, this isn't the first time we've ever had cable. We had it when we first moved here. But were attempting to be cheap cut costs by canceling it and keeping only Netflix. 

And we decided hell, if we're going to get Directv, we might as well pay a little more and get every NFL game ever each week! But when ordering Directv, they decided that we got NFL Sunday Ticket for free. Well, if you insist!

We decided Directv over our usual Comcast because Comcast is BRAIN DAMAGED and doesn't have a deal with the NFL to broadcast all the out of market games. Because they're stupid. And not very smart. And stupid.