The title of my last post and the previous snow day post are from the book Snow by Uri Shulevitz. It is one of Simon's (many) favorites. The first time it snowed this season, he stood with Micah on our front steps and said, "I am a boy and you are a dog." In reference to the line in the book, "'It's snowing,' said boy with dog." We still get a kick out of that, as you can imagine.I love that Simon loves reading so much. I love it when he makes references to things that we've read, or when he pretends to be a character from a book. I love sharing stories that I grew up with and I love finding new treasures that we both enjoy. It's so exciting to me. Some of my favorite memories are of going to the library, checking out the 21 books that were the maximum number we could have out at a time, and then sitting on the couch with my mom while she read them to us and I'm so happy that Simon seems to get the same joy out of such things.
I thought I'd share some of the books we're loving these days, for your own enjoyment. And if you have any to recommend, please do so in the comments. First, A Pair of Red Clogs by Masako Matsuno. I remember my librarian reading this to us when I was in elementary school, then playing the weather-telling game at recess for days afterward. I used it in a Primary activity last week and the kids loved it. They could have kicked their shoes off for hours. I highly recommend it.
Quick as a Cricket by Don and Audrey Wood. I'm a huge fan of the Woods. This one is perfect for Simon's level, as is Piggies. I remember loving Heckedy Peg back in the day, but I think it may be a bit too much for Simon right now. (Remind me to tell you about how I freaked him out about broken legs and amputations during FHE the other week . . . I'm such a good mom.) Simon also loves The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear. Frog and Toad Together by Arnold Lobel. As well as the other Frog and Toad books. Of course. I was a little nervous that he wouldn't be able to stay with me through all of the stories in the book, but he really enjoyed them.
And finally, The Pigeon books by Mo Willems. We've been able to get Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog, and The Pigeon Wants a Puppy at our local library, but there are several more. I'll let Simon read this one to you himself. It's fun.
It's been snowing for two days here. How did I not know this storm was coming? Yesterday we stayed in -- tossed bean bags, made muffins, learned to roll over, you know, that kind of stuff, and today I decided I was tired of watching all the fun from the window so we bundled up and headed out. It's beautiful beautiful beautiful out there. Sure, you can hardly get around, but it's white and fluffy and fun to drag your feet through. Provided you are wearing boots. And three pairs of pants.
We launched a contest at work called YouGoods and it is potentially really cool. The gist is that you can submit any product ideas you have. We will choose the best ideas and then post them on our facebook page for voting. The winner will then win two round trip tickets to sunny NYC, a hotel stay & $500 in cash. They will also meet with our merchant team to discuss the details of producing and selling their product.
The PR girl at work told me to post this on our blog because, though we have received many entries, the overall quality of submissions is not all that high. This means that if any of you have a great idea you have a good chance of winning a trip to visit us, some monies, and the chance to make a lot more monies if the product goes into production.
If you are interested in this, I highly recommend giving it a try. The deadline is March 15th. Your entries will be much stronger than most if you include photos, sketches, etc. The ideas don't have to be 100% complete, but the more thought out and executed the better. If you have any questions on ownership rights or such please ask in the comments section. Also, here are the rules. Good luck.
p.s. I should note that the airfare is sponsored by JetBlue, so you can only fly from an airport that they go to. This means any of you Hawaiians will need to make it partway on your own. Sorry.
Simon is pretty excited about our new vacuum. He thinks it is his because it is about his size. Ha! I don't know that I'm ready to share my toy with an almost 3-year-old, but I appreciate his enthusiasm. Let's hope it lasts until he can actually use the thing.
These are the words I heard most this weekend. Hands down. During his "nap," Simon requested a kleenex in this manner every 10 minutes or less until we all got tired of the charade and naptime ended without the sleeping bit. Kleenexes piled up in various parts of the house as Micah and I tried to conserve them and Simon wandered aimlessly from place to place.We had "big" plans for Friday, which consisted of ordering a pizza and watching the Olympic opening ceremonies. Simon fell asleep long before the ceremonies even started. And then we discovered he had a fever. The cough rattled through his door and woke all of us up some time during the weekend. (Well, maybe not Oliver.)
Saturday's plans were canceled. Of course, all we were going to do was watch some of our friends' kids while they went on their hot Valentine's Day date, but still.And on Sunday I related the fun of our weekend to my family several times (since only a few were available to skype at any given time). "Boogers! Boogers, Mom. Boogers!" By the time I was laughing about it with the last round of skypers (my youngest brother, my older sister, her husband), and telling the newlyweds about the joys of childrearing, I realized something about having (and loving) kids (which Becca and Jon will have to find out on their own, I'm sure): It is very rarely warm and fuzzy. It is, however, very often cold and slimy. Which makes it not necessarily fun, but does make it funny.
One way of showing love is to wipe a snotty nose every 10 minutes. Another way is to ask for your nose to be wiped every 10 minutes.
Simon would like to demonstrate the proper method of drawing a person. He has ample experience in this artistic field, as demonstrated by the three (3) figures depicted above. (One is partially hidden by his arm.) We have digitally documented the process for your benefit and included captioning for ease of replication.
"Snowflakes don't listen to radio. Snowflakes don't watch television."
It snowed all day yesterday. I was pretty excited about it. Schools had been preemptively closed, friends were running to the store on Tuesday to stock up on goods because they were sure they'd be snowed in for a week, and I was looking forward to being warm and toasty while the flakes flew outside. Sadly, our apartment isn't that warm and it didn't snow as much as I hoped. But on the plus side, several of Micah's co-workers worked from home to avoid the storm, so his boss bought lunch for those who braved the 3 inches to come in. (Free lunch! Hooray!) And I popped popcorn and watched Ratatouille with Simon for the 786th time. (Favorite quote: "You're the one gettin' fancy with the spices!" Micah and I can't cook together without one of us saying it.) I also used some of the time to learn to use Manual mode on my camera. Here are a few photos (which I subsequently tinkered with in Photoshop -- is that cheating?) from the endeavor. (I think the world would be a better place if everyone wore red long-johns, don't you?)
Do not be deceived, this book is not actually about the Man in the Iron Mask. Which is a pity because he was the most compelling character. I finally finished reading it last night. I started it when Simon -- yes, Simon -- was born, but lost interest, probably because I was reading it in the middle of the night when I woke up to feed him. So I gave it another go when Oliver was born, and -- surprise! -- had a hard time staying interested. Again. Possibly because of the same 3 am feeding issue. But I finished it. Mostly so I could say I've read it and be done.
I'm sad that I had such a hard time with it. The Count of Monte Cristo, also by Dumas, is one of my all-time favorites so I expected great things from this. I blame my failure to really enjoy it on several things:
1. The cover. I'm not judging it, but I certainly was influenced by it. The cover of our copy is the same as pictured above. I think we got it at a garage sale. I felt like I was reading a trashy airplane novel rather than a classic. Something about the green glow and the typeface cheapened it for me.
2. As previously mentioned: what the heck happened to the man in the iron mask?!?! How could Dumas just abandon him after all the trouble he caused?
3. I've never read The Three Musketeers and I had a hard time connecting with the musketeers. A shame because the book is *actually* about the drama of their demise.
And 4. I was reading it in the middle of the night. And sometimes falling asleep half-way through a sentence. Which, I think, meant I had a hard time keeping track of what was going on. I couldn't figure out why Fouquet was on the king's bad side after he rescued him from the Bastille (ah, yes, the embezzlement issue! Of course!). And I never really caught on to who Colbert actually was. I probably should have taken the time to go back and read through it more carefully, but, like I said, I had a hard time focusing.
I'm just glad I can say I've read it now, set it aside, and move on.
I don't know if I would say he is "trained," but he hasn't had an accident in several days and we have braved public transportation without the crutch of a diaper a couple of times.
If I were the type of mother who posted pictures of my mostly nekkid child, I would post a picture of Simon in his fancy-schmancy underpants, but I'm not that kind of mother, so you'll just have to imagine the cuteness of such a thing.
It was a bit cold -- in the low 20s -- tonight when Micah and I picked the boys up from being babysat at our friends' house. Our friends don't live particularly close to us, and there isn't a really good way to get there from our place. It's two buses or two trains and a decent walk no matter which route you take. Micah was wearing Oliver in the bjorn, with his coat zipped up around him, and I was carrying Simon. We walked to the bus stop, looked at the time table and realized we'd have to wait at least 45 minutes for the next bus, so we decided to keep walking to the closest train station. It snowed a little bit last night, nothing too bad, and the sidewalks were pretty clear. At times we walked into gusts of wind, but they were always short-lived. Simon kept telling us he was hungry and asking for food, despite having eaten quite a bit before we left and having polished off a bag of goldfish cracker crumbs (I don't blame him for confusing "hungry" with "tired" -- I still do it all the time). We turned a corner and started walking up a small hill, and I looked over at Oliver. His nose was red and his drool was bubbling out of his mouth. I felt bad that he must be so cold and we still had a few blocks to walk before we got to the station. And then the thought, "At least you're not walking across the Plains," popped into my head.
I've heard of the ways people suffered as they crossed the Plains, of the cold and the scarcity of food. And it is true that at times I think I'm pretty hardcore, wearing my kids all over the place, carrying who knows how many pounds of laundry on my back in the rain and wind and snow. Sometimes I think we're relatively tough because we don't have a car and we do a lot of walking in all kinds of weather. But I always know that I'm not more than a few minutes away from warmth and food. I can tell my 2-year-old that he'll just have to wait until we get off the train and then we'll have dinner. And I don't go to bed at night hoping my baby doesn't freeze to death.
Micah and I are both descendants of pioneers, some of whom went through truly horrific experiences to get to where they were going. And right now I can't believe that I have taken pride in the "difficulties" of my life. I am grateful that I can do the things I do, grateful that sometimes it is a little bit hard and that I do it anyway, but even more grateful that my ancestors were as tough as they were so that I don't have to be.
Micah's version is slightly different, but I'm writing this, not him.
First, I have been making our bread for the better part of two years. I really liked the recipe I was using, and since I got it from one of my best friends I felt like it was important that I stick with it, if only for the illusion of some sort of added connection between the two of us. But then, over the past few months I started noticing that I was the only one eating the bread, and more often than not at least part of it would go bad before I could get to it. At about this time, I started hearing and reading about Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day from other friends. I was interested, but if I was going to make the switch, I wanted Micah to be excited about it too. Because if I was going to be the only one to eat the bread anyway, I might as well make my special-friend bread and pretend that it meant something special that I was using the special-friend recipe.So I told Micah about it and he was kind of like, "Nyeh." So I didn't do anything about it. And then some friends offered to let us borrow their copy of the book and Micah was kind of like, "Nyeh." So I didn't do anything about it. And then Micah was looking for ideas of what to get me for Christmas and I suggested the book and he was kind of like, "Nyeh." And then I thought, well, I'll just try it and if it is easier and if it Micah eats it, then I'll make the switch. So a few days after Christmas I whipped up a batch of the basic "boule" dough and baked a loaf. And Micah raved about it. We ate three (admittedly small) loaves in three days. So we decided to borrow the book from our friends to see if it was worth getting. We had it in our possession for about 7 hours before Micah was like, "Let's just do it. Let's just get the book and the storage containers and the pizza stone and do it."
And I was like, "Huh."
ps We've been using this recipe (also in the book) to make granola for our breakfast and it is rather tasty. I roast it at 275 for about 1 1/2 hours, stirring every 15 minutes, just until it starts to brown and it turns out really delicious. Like I can't wait to get home from my run so I can eat some. That kind of delicious.
Well, this is a weird feeling. I don't remember the last time things felt so normal around here, like we are actually doing what we are going to be doing for the next couple of years. I am not anxious about anything. I'm not overly excited about anything. I'm not bored or over-scheduled or trying to figure things out. I'm just being me. Running early in the morning, making breakfast, doing dishes, getting the boys dressed and out to go shopping or to the museum or institute or to do laundry, changing diapers, potty training, putting the boys down for naps, making dinner, trying to keep up with friends via e-mail and blogs and phone, planning Primary stuff, trying out new things (knitting, at the moment).You know. The usual. In the back of my mind there are some things that I keep thinking about, but they are the unknowable things, things that I just have to be patient about and for the first time in . . . forever? I'm feeling fine with just waiting, just being. It is fun to speculate on how things will go, but I don't feel the need to obsess about how much longer we can live in New York and where we will end up when we leave, or what our family will be like in 10 years, or when I'm going to be able to start (really) writing again and what my career will be like when the kiddies aren't sapping my brain power 97% of the day.
Yesterday I got my flute out to play some Primary songs for the enjoyment of the little people, but soon turned to some of the songs I learned back when I took lessons. I was playing a particularly emotional song and was just reaching the climax when I turned around to look at Oliver, who was sitting on the couch. He looked like he was fighting back tears. One tear even ran down his chubby cheek. But he managed to regain his composure when I stopped playing. I can only assume it was the power of the music that was affecting him so, and not my extremely rusty flute-playing "abilities." He has a sensitive soul.And also. One day last week I got in the shower and left the door open, as I (almost) always do when I shower so I could peek out and make sure the boys weren't killing each other. I'd just shampooed my hair when I heard a thud and poked my head out to see what was going on. I thought Simon must have fallen, but one look at the couch tipped me off: Oliver was no longer sitting where I had left him. And then the crying started, and it was Oliver's little cry. I was already out of the shower, of course, and ran to pick Oliver up off the floor where Simon had lost the strength to carry him any more. Simon claimed he needed to show Oliver some "new animals" in his room. Ha. Oh well. It was the first time, but I'm sure it won't be the last that Oliver gets hurt as Simon tries to be a good Big Brother. I'm just a little surprised it took 3 months for something like that to happen.
I love that Simon loves reading so much. I love it when he makes references to things that we've read, or when he pretends to be a character from a book. I love sharing stories that I grew up with and I love finding new treasures that we both enjoy. It's so exciting to me. Some of my favorite memories are of going to the library, checking out the 21 books that were the maximum number we could have out at a time, and then sitting on the couch with my mom while she read them to us and I'm so happy that Simon seems to get the same joy out of such things.
First, A Pair of Red Clogs by Masako Matsuno. I remember my librarian reading this to us when I was in elementary school, then playing the weather-telling game at recess for days afterward. I used it in a Primary activity last week and the kids loved it. They could have kicked their shoes off for hours. I highly recommend it.
Quick as a Cricket by Don and Audrey Wood. I'm a huge fan of the Woods. This one is perfect for Simon's level, as is Piggies. I remember loving Heckedy Peg back in the day, but I think it may be a bit too much for Simon right now. (Remind me to tell you about how I freaked him out about broken legs and amputations during FHE the other week . . . I'm such a good mom.) Simon also loves The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry and the Big Hungry Bear.
Frog and Toad Together by Arnold Lobel. As well as the other Frog and Toad books. Of course. I was a little nervous that he wouldn't be able to stay with me through all of the stories in the book, but he really enjoyed them.
And finally, The Pigeon books by Mo Willems. We've been able to get Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog, and The Pigeon Wants a Puppy at our local library, but there are several more. I'll let Simon read this one to you himself. It's fun.
