Quick Question...

Does anyone know the disciplinary protocol for finding your child trying to shove a fist full of doggie poo into the little hole where you put the key to turn on the gas to the fire place? I wasn't sure if this was more of a verbal reprimand situation or a time out. I couldn't find this category in the Happiest Toddler on the Block or The Baby Whisperer Answers All Your Questions (if she was still alive- I'd let her know she missed a few of mine!)

Thanks!

It's All the Rage in Paris and Milan!

Lampa!

Today Wilson and I went to our very first Itsy Bitsy Yoga class! It was lots of fun and a great way to meet a few new friends. Wilson was, as usual, a little intimidated when faced with the fact that other children exist and were in a confined space with him. But he did let loose a little and try a few poses and actually smiled and laughed at a few of them. I think he's really going to enjoy it once he warms up to being around other people. I went on and bought the book and signed up for future classes. Between now and our next class we can look through the book and practice some of the things we learned today so we can get more "up to speed" before next week. It was so cute to watch all the little "yogis" go into a pose when the teacher called one out. It's amazing what they can learn and retain at such a young age. You're supposed to call out a pose in a sing-songy voice and help them into it. Wilson's favorite right now is Lampa- go figure. This is the yoga word for "jump". He walks around bouncing, sort of bending at the knee saying "bomp-bomp, bomp-bomp", laughing the whole time. It's too much fun!
Namaste.

The Toddling Tyrant

Tonight I'd like to use some of my prized web real estate to blog about some of my favorite things about Wilson. While there are many- they tend to get overshadowed by the messes he makes and gets himself into. There are also times when this toddling tyrant wobbles around pointing a pudgy finger at no one in particular, handing out orders in his own foreign language. It's at these times that I think, "So this is what Hitler would have looked like, had he been about a foot shorter, worn suits with snaps up the inseam, and been, well, Aryan."

However, there's so many other times that he brings more joy than I could have expected. I am always amazed at what we don't have to teach him. Earlier I mentioned how you don't have to teach "sneaky". But we also didn't have to teach him to love. Hand Wilson any plush toy and he immediately puts his head on it, "loving" it. He tries to "love" the hard plastic animals that came with his farm set. He loves his cars & gucks. He also continually tries to "love" Jack even though he has changed Jack's name to "Grrrrrrr" because growling is all he ever hears come out of the dog.

We didn't have to teach him to be funny, but you can't be around him for long before he has you in stitches. He has genuinely figured out humor, and knows what is going to make his mom and dad laugh out loud.

We didn't have to teach him to smile, giggle, and say "men-men" (Amen) when his dad finishes the blessing, but I'm sure glad he does. It's heart warming. We didn't have to teach him to say "Hi-O" when he drops something. Okay, so we did teach him that, but it's a welcome break from the typical "ah-o" that you here from every other kid. (and dang funny if I do say so myself!)

We have had several sleepless nights lately- I'm very fearful that he's trying to give up his afternoon nap (he didn't take one at all today). Last night he woke up around midnight and I rocked him for a little while before heading to the guest room with him. Around 3am, with his head on my knee cap and his foot in my mouth (and Tate on one of my legs & Jack on top of Wilson- all of a sudden Wilson's not so evil when he's a ticket onto the bed), I woke up and moved him to his bed. He of course woke up and began ranting and raving about how he didn't need to go back to bed. He'd had 3 hours of sleep- he was good. At this point, I had had enough togetherness- I shut the door and went back to the guest bed and snuggled in with the dogs.

However, earlier- at midnight, I was kind of relishing the time I had with him. If he never had sleepless nights, I'd never get to hold him. He's never been much of a cuddly baby and has never let anyone but his dad rock him. So, if a night or two with no sleep now and then means I get to hold the little tyrant in his baby blue train footy pajamas so be it. We're going to have to work on the nap thing though. That's when I take my shower and there are only so many days in a row I can go with no shower!

Chef Wilson Presents

Peanut Butter, Brownie, Chicken Spaghetti, Apple Surprise

Are you having trouble getting the right amount of Crispness in your oatmeal?

I have found the solution. Simply have your toddler smear a bowl of oatmeal all over his shirt, peel said shirt inside out over his head, put it through a wash, rinse, and spin, and then dry. When the shirt is removed from the dryer and turned right side out, you'll have that oatmeal miniaturized and crispified (most will be stuck to the shirt, but watch the floor because plenty will spill all over there, too). This makes a great topping for yogurt or fruit cobblers/crisps. Or you could just put the shirt back on the young chap and send him into the yard as the ultimate earth friendly bird feeder.

This discovery was made after doing laundery after the "I don't want to eat oatmeal with a spoon" incident. My washer and dryer have never been so fiber rich!

We would like to thank Pat Pat and Paw for keeping Wilson tonight so that we could go to a movie at the new Grandview! I am pleased to say that we passed the dress code with flying colors and rather enjoyed Match Point. Unfortunately, as I type he is hurling insults at me over the monitor- something about "outright defiance of his clear request to not go to bed. He was quite comfortable in the four poster, queen from which we aroused him, and this Jenny Lynn is just not up to snuff." Guess it's time to try out the old- "I'll be right back..."

Mom,

. . . really, I don't need a nap. I'm not even a little tired. I promise I won't through a fit when the animal crackers run out in Target & I'll behave like a complete gentlemen when you tell me I can't pull every book off the shelves in Borders. But, really, no, ahhhhh, nap. I'm not even the, ahhhhhhhhhh, slightest bit- zzzzzzzzzzz.

But...

I dooooooon't waaaaaaant to eat my oooatmeal with a spooooooooooooooooon!

It's the New Cream of Mushroom Soup

Tonight I made a new culinary discovery- Ready Rice. You tear the pouch, put it in the microwave for 90 seconds, and that's it- rice! No water, no measuring cup, no boiler with white goo stuck to the bottom. How simple is that- it could easily replace cream of mushroom soup as a staple in the cupboard. And, as you all know (except maybe a few of my Yankee readers, bless their hearts), there is nothing a Southern woman can't "casserolize" given 8 ounces of cream of mushroom soup- I don't care what Robert St. John says! But given the speed and ease (and taste I might add) of Ready Rice, you can now have funeral food thrown together before the bereaved can decide just which shoes Aunt Estelle would rather take with her to the great beyond.

The above is actually the second great discovery I've made in the kitchen this week. Did you know that they print recipes in magazines- and that you can actually cook them?! I realize this is sort of obvious, but I have been taking it for granted. As many magazines as I have lying around- I very rarely read (much less) try the recipes they publish. I bet we could eat something new every night. We first benefited from this discovery earlier this week when I made Chocolate Paradise- a chocolate cheesecake with ganache topping (see February 14 for pictures). Tonight I made sort of a Southern version of fried rice- Southern because you use bacon drippings instead of sesame oil to cook your chicken and veggies in (leave it to us to turn Oriental food into your next coronary). It was pretty good, but now that I've got cooking rice down pat- we're going places. Julia Child's got nothing on us!

I realize that you all "tune in" to read the latest on Wilson and not me and the low bar I set for myself on the "Donna Reed" scale. So, tonight I'm posing a multiple choice question for all of you to see how well you know the little guy.

The right side of Wilson's face is red and swollen. What happened?
a. Jack had it up to his beard with Wilson's antics and finally let him have it
b. Wilson finally scaled the piano bench and fell off
c. I noticed him chewing while coloring and half a crayon is missing- this is an allergic reaction to red dye #40.
d. All of the above.

Let me hear from you- I'd really like to get this one figured out!

Need a Good Babysitter?

If anyone's looking for a good sitter- I've got a great suggestion. He makes sure that his charges are well taken care of, comfortable, and that they get lots of rest. He is also careful to see that they keep up with their "lovies" like this young man (pictured to the left) and his lion. He might watch a little too much TV, but his rates are reasonable, let me know if you need his number.

It's All Greek to Me

It is no coincidence that Gerber does not "jar" hummus. Wilson is really into dipping things these days. Pretzels in peanut butter, chips in salsa, pita in hummus. Last night I gave him a bowl of hummus and some cracker sticks to munch on while I heated up his "bupper". Apparently the ratio of crackers to hummus was a little off & he decided that his fingers, arms, and face would do just as good a job as dippers as the crackers did. If he smells a little like chickpeas and olive oil the next time you see him, check under the chins- I may have missed a spot!

Wilson's House of Hair

Wilson's House Of Hair:

If your "do" isn't becoming to you,

You musn't be coming to us!

I'm Sure It Wasn't Mine

There's too many kids in this tub.
There's too many elbows to scrub.
I just washed a behind
That I'm sure wasn't mine,
There's too many kids in this tub.
- Shel Silverstein

A Clearer Picture of Heaven

Wilson and I have just made chocolate ganache. We're both bouncing off the walls! I can only assume this heavenly sauce wasn't mentioned in the Bible because there was no good Hebrew or Greek word for "ganache" (I'm sure some street up there somewhere has to be paved with this instead of gold!). Whipping cream, milk chocolate chips, and semi-sweet chocolate chips- doesn't get much better than this!

You Don't Have to Teach Sneaky

For several weeks I've been a little worried that we'd turned our little boy into a card carrying redneck way before it was time. The first sign was that at the site of one of our dogs nearing his chair at dinner time, you could hear him screaming throughout the house "eeeeeeeeeeehn" (to get the full effect of this noise, take yourself back to the sound that came from the old man in your neighborhood as he ran out on his porch attempting to deter dogs from digging in his trash). This was really funny at first, but then became a little concerning when I realized he was imitating me, and I wondered what else do I utter throughout the day that gives away the not so eloquent side of my southern heritage. However, it did keep the dogs away from his food and alerted me to when they were breaking the rules.

Today I noticed a shift in the tides. I walked into the kitchen to find Tate under the table happily sopping up every crumb of Wilson's breakfast as he threw it to him on the floor. I watched for a few seconds until Wilson looked up and saw me. As soon as our eyes met he blurted out "EEEEEEEEEEHN"! Too late! Busted! His inner monologue must have gone something like, "Um, oh, shoot! Maybe if I scream real loud she'll think he snuck up on me. Yeah, that's it, he snuck up on me. That's our story, I'm eating my cereal, Tate walked in real quiet like, I was so scared I dumped the whole bowl on the floor, then in shock I sat and watched. She'll buy that." I think he's also got some ocean front in North Dakota if anyone's interested. I can just see the two of them in some dark room somewhere plotting. "Okay, I like to throw food on the floor and you like to eat food off the floor. I think we can work something out here."

His first attempt at sliding one past mom. The teen years should be fun!

Okay, okay, okay!

Many people have requested that I start a blog. I have refused until now saying, "When on earth am I going to find the time to 'blog'?" ( I guess that's the right verb). After all, the requests have come on the heals of a few emails detailing the now very busy life of me and my toddler side kick. I am just now realizing the irony that his initials are WEE! I need to have that exclamation point legally added to his birth certificate. He is pictured above hosting a car show on the window ledge in the backyard.

Well, here I am at 12:34am starting what I said I wouldn't do- bore you with the minutiae of our lives. At least this way you can be bored on your own terms and not have our stories bombarding your in boxes. I am "blogging" at this hour because Wilson is refusing to go to sleep. He is a little stuffed up and just keeps waking up. Right now I'm trying out a technique I was sure wouldn't work on him yet. This is the trick where you say, "I'll be right back" and then come back in 5 minutes. You then say you'll be right back and come back in 10 minutes and so on, increasing the time in between your pop ins until the child is asleep. So far, so good. The only problem is, is that if I leave and he doesn't cry, I feel I've just received a get out of jail free card. I also see the green light to start a new project- like a blog! Maybe one day he'll come to appreciate my ADD like his dad has.

Nothing much new has happened today. Wilson is continuing to grow and add words and expressions to his vocabulary. Today after many run ins with the "sucky-ball" (aspirator for those of you out of the loop on our vocabulary) he began grabbing it, sticking it in his own nose and mimicking the slurping sound it makes with his mouth. It was hilarious- he tried out several noises before he settled on just the right one. He's the only kid I know that is actually amused by the sucky-ball. He leans right in for you- happy to have the snot whisked away.

A final thought before I end this, our first post. Why is it that in the pale glow of a night light things that made you hopping mad at noon are now so sweet? His mirror is covered with little hand prints. As I sat rocking my now 30 pound "baby" who is over half my height, I spied them. Each finger represents a struggle to get a diaper on as he clung to that mirror for dear life, hoping this time he wouldn't end up bare-bottomed on the changing table. They represent special hardware that I had installed so that that mirror could withstand 30lbs swinging from it- hardware that I learned about from installing art in a courthouse where common thugs are known to rip things straight off the walls for sport. Yet now, in the middle of the night, these little prints become such a sweet reminder of the little boy that has filled our home with such joy and laughter. Even things like toy "gucks" (trucks) that make me wonder how many more times I'll trip on them or board books that have taught me there is something more painful than a paper cut (a cardboard page cut) take on a special light. They remind me that these are the things that make up the best parts of his day- and that he is what makes up the best parts of ours.

He's still asleep. Goodnight.