On the coldest day in 5 years....

Generally, it is an up hill battle to get Baba out of his pajamas. He is just not interested in getting his pajama's off because pj's are so comfy, cozy, and other things among his 9,574 other excuses for not getting dressed.

I was eating my Kix and Reece's Puffs mix for breakfast this morning (I highly recommend mixing cereal. Yum!) and I turned around. The boy was darn near naked. I laughed so hard cereal almost came out of nose.

I said, "Why are you naked?"
Baba said, "I'm not naked. I have my undies and socks on."

I said, "Why are you in your undies and socks."
Baba said, "Because my pj's came off!"


Its the coldest day of the year and my child is running around in his under-roos. He says he's not cold because he is a polar bear, but he did mention the chair was cold when he stole my cereal and sat down to eat it.

PS I brought down clothes for him to wear and have been nagging him to get dressed for the past 30 minutes or so. Now his clothes are missing and he isn't sure where they went. I can only conclude his clothes have a mind of their own.

Sinner!

Yesterday afternoon my phone rang with an unknown number. I usually don't pick up if I don't recognize the number, but it was a local area code and River City Theater has about 14 different phone numbers they call me from, so I answered thinking that our rehearsal location/date/production had been changed. Again.

It wasn't River City Theater.

It was our pastor. My first that was, "Oh crap! He's going to ask why we haven't been in church since Christmas Eve. Really!? I can't miss a few Sundays without the pastor giving me a call!? What's up with that? I'm sorry we ever started going to that church."

He was actually calling to remind me that registration for Grandma's Marathon opens today. We spoke for a few minutes with no comment on our spotty church attendance, just a pleasant conversation on the joys of training for a marathon. He said he was filling out his registration and thought of me and how busy you are with little kids and thought I might have forgotten that registration opened today. I thanked him for thinking of me. All in all, it was a pleasant conversation. Although, I think he muttered, "sinner" under his breath when he hung up.

5 pieces of bread

There were 5 pieces of bread consumed at my house this morning. I had none, the girl had 1, and the boy had 4. Yes, 4. Two toasted with jelly, two without toasted but with jelly.

So, to the dude at the food store with his snide comment of "Like bread, do you?" upon seeing the 6 loaves of bread in my cart. No, I don't really like bread, but my kids do. And as an FYI the 2 gallons of milk I bought, sir, will last about a week.

Baba Babysits

Rudy is obsessed with the steps and is a quick little bugger so you have to watch her constantly. You turn your back for 2 seconds and she's halfway up. Baba is obsessed with "watching" his baby and loves volunteering to "watch" her so I can go to the bathroom, start supper, make a snack, etc.

Baba wanted a snack this afternoon and volunteered to watch his sister while I fixed his 87th snack of the day. I said okay, but to let me know if she started on the steps. He agreed.

I fixed his snack and came around the corner. "Where's your sister?" I asked.

"On the 'teps!" Baba yelled.

I said, "I thought you were watching her."

He said, "I was. But I needed a break."

He had been "watching" her for about 30 seconds.

I rescued Rudy from the steps and they happily went back to playing with the cat toy (which I got on clearance at Target for 29 cents. Next year, Santa is bringing boxes, cat toys, and more boxes).

Grocery Store Math

Now I remember what I was really going to blog about.....

I was at the grocery store today and came across this math problem:

128 ounces of OJ for 2.99

OR

64 ounces of OJ on sale for 2 for $6

Do I need to slow down? Should I repeat the question? It was a tough choice. I had to call my dad.

Someday....(insert lyrics from your fav song with someday in it)

To quote ZennieZou, "I've a bad blog keeper-upper guyer (I'm adding guyer because that's what the boy would say)."

My poor neglected blog has taken a backseat to my new hobby, reading several books at once. For example, I'm reading: America, the book by Jon Stewart, Pollyanna by some lady, and Harry Pothead and the Half Blood Prince by another lady. America and 1/2 Blood by choice, Pollyanna because I'm auditioning next week and have very vague memories of the movie with Haley Mills.

I have really cute holiday pictures of the kids. Someday (July is looking pretty open) they'll get posted. Until then, wish me luck auditioning - here's hoping I don't get confused and start acting out scenes from Harry Potter.

Santa

Baba has been very concerned about everyone, not just him, getting presents lately. He was quite worried when, as of last Friday, there was NOTHING for me under the tree. Zippy took him shopping so he no longer has that to worry about.

But today at Target, he asked me what Santa was bringing me. I said I didn't know and asked what he thought Santa should bring me. He thought for a moment and said, "a new shirt without holes and new pants."

So, my three year old has noticed that my favorite sweatshirt has a hole in the sleeve. I was kind of embarrassed at first, but there's a good chance I won't stop wearing it. I really like it. I hope Baba isn't too disappointed when Santa brings me Season 2 of Ducktales instead of a new shirt.

Angry Boy

The boy was angry at me the other day. He glared at me and said, "MOMUA HAROLD!!"

I laughed.

To my dear friend, ZennieZou

My dearest ZennieZou,

If you EVER give me another Danielle Steel book to read I may have to stop being your friend. I really tried to like her because she came highly recommended from you, but I can't.

I read that one about the kids on the Titanic for you. By the end of the book, I had wished they had all gone down with the ship.

I am currently trying to read Sisters. I've had it for 3 years and I feel it is time to return it. The English major in me won't let me return a book I haven't read.

So far, it is harder for me to get into than when I read Canterbury Tales in Olde Englishe in college. By the second chapter, I was skipping paragraphs. By the third, I was skipping pages. By the fourth, I was hoping they would all get hit with an meteorite and then next 200 pages would be "The End" written over and over and over. No such luck.

I keep reading, however. I trust your judgement and am hoping by the end of the book it redeems itself (or they all die in horrible, bloody, gory, etc accidents that make me feel that reading it has worthwhile. Its like when you are stuck in traffic and think "Man, there better be a BIG accident to cause these delays.").

But, I really like being your friend so no more Danielle Steel, okay? Every other book you have ever sent me has been readable and enjoyable. If you send me more Danielle Steel, I may have to tell Dumbly you are not setting your thermostat within 10 degrees of the outside temperature.

Thanks,

ZarahZou

PS stupid snow. I'm really bummed about cancelling our play date. Wanna have a play date in Florida?

Same tree, same crap, I mean, same BEAUTIFUL stuff

A couple weekends ago, we decorated our parents Christmas tree. I do believe we out did ourselves this year.

We found the beautiful Styrofoam ball with three dots of glitter left that my mom always tries to hid from us. She said, "What until you have kids..." I have kids. One of whom made a beautiful blue glitter Styrofoam ball that he promptly dropped on the floor and got glitter in between my floor boards that I'll never get out. The ball is hanging on our tree and the boy is forbidden to touch it, to think about touching it, or look at it.

Even better than the Styrofoams ball (what says Christmas more than glittery Styrofoam?) was this yellow ornament I found in the box. Apparently, its actually a twist-tie, but it was in the box so it was fair game.

And this ornament I found in the box that my mom said, "Don't go in that box. There's just junk in there." Open invitation. If she really didn't want us in that box, she wouldn't have said anything about its contents.

My new concept in decorating - try the ornament out for the season, if you don't like it, take it back. Just leave it in the bag! As an added bonus, you'll never have to dust your ornaments, just shake the bag off at the end of the season.

After all our treasures where on the tree (my dad and uncle were going to contribute the yule beer cans later), we crawled under and screamed Silver Bells until Rudy cried. Ditty's friend from college even got to share in the family fun.

Something wrong with that boy.....

Tonight during supper Baba picked out a lima bean and said, "I found it! There are those things I love."

My kid willingly eats lima beans. I don't even willingly eat them. They just happen to be in the mixed vegetables I buy because I always forget to look for the lima bean free label.

I want to go on that one!!!!

I'm either the greatest mom in the world or off my rocker. I took both kids, by myself, to Nickelodeon Universe at Mall of America today to ride rides. The day went pretty well. Rudy was content to patiently drool and chew on everything within arm's reach (greetings to tooth number two who made his appearance this morning - the first made his appearance the day after Thanksgiving).

Baba was content to ride as many rides as possible in the 3 hours allotted to his riding pleasure (on Tuesdays, Nick U offers a 3 hour unlimited ride wrist band for $9.95. Basically kids can ride all the 3 point rides until they puke or they reach the 3 hour time limit, whichever comes first. Best deal ever).

There was one minor hiccup in the day. Baba is 41 inches. You have to be 42 to ride a couple of the rides alone. He really wanted to ride Swiper's Swooper, but wasn't tall enough. With the help of a very nice Random Mom in line behind him, we avoided a meltdown. He chitchatted the entire ride with Random Mom. Random Mom got off the ride and said, "What a friendly little boy." Remind anyone of Baba's namesake?

Even worse then having to be 42 inches to ride Swiper's Swooper alone, you have to be 48 inches to ride the roller coaster he really wants to ride. The first hill looks like an upside down "U" - straight up and then straight down. (Big Zjosh, next time you are in town and feeling like going to an amusement park, I will so ride this ride with you). Then it goes into an upside down loop. I really, really wanted to ride it - I'm over 48 inches! - but I couldn't really leave my kids unattended. Darn kids.

I tried to make lifts for his shoes to help him "grow" the last inch out of a diaper, but they didn't work. Diapers are too squishy, must try other material. He was content to ride the Pineapple Popper 4 times in a row to make up for the injustice of his lack of height. His other ride of the day was the WonderPets Flyboat. Everytime he reached the top of the Flyboat ride, he would point to the roller coaster of his desire and say, "That's the one I want to go on." I would say he is too short and the operator would laugh.

To get his mind off of the unfairness of life, we had lunch. After lunch, he sat back and said, "Mom, I grew my inch. Let's go ride some more."

Unfortunately, he hadn't grown, but to make up for it we got some ice cream in his favorite hue, blue (it was cotton candy flavor and kind of gross, but to each his own). We also, much to the boy's delight, saw a set of triplets that was about Rudy's age. Baba said, "Mom, the only problem with 3 babies is we'd need to buy 2 more cribs."

While it is true we would need to buy 2 more cribs, I have a hard time believing that would be the only problem with triplets. I can think of several more, including the fact that, despite my best efforts, I have failed to grow an extra arm. When the number of babies outnumber the number of arms, I think that's a problem. Enough cribs or not.

Baba's New Pet

Shortly after Rudy was born, Ditty and Poonch II got a dog named Buster (or is it Busta?). Anyway, I asked Baba if we could get a dog instead of 5 more sisters. He politely told me otherwise.

Today while we were watching Franklin the Turtle for the 9,958,877,392 time (Franklin could count by 2's and tie his shoes. He could zip zippers and button buttons....) and eating popcorn, we had the following conversation:

Baba: Mom, can I have a popcorn seed for a pet?
Me: A popcorn seed for a pet?
Baba: I was thinking it would be a good pet, it won't poop anywhere.
Me: That's true. You better ask Dad.
Baba: (holding up the popcorn seed, admiring his pet) I will name him Pacos. Let's call Dad.

So we call Dad, who for some reason thought a popcorn seed pet was funny. I'm certainly not opposed to getting a pet for the boy. Pets teach responsibility, but how much responsibility does it take to take care of a popcorn seed?

Postscrip: Pacos the popcorn seed got thrown in with his brothers in the bowl and got tossed. So far, Baba is unaware that his precious pet sits in the bottom of the garbage can, waiting for someone to bring him to the curb. This could get ugly. Especially, since his Halloween pumpkin still sits on our counter, uncarved, because the pumpkin is his friend and he didn't want to cut it with a sharp knife.

Things heard around the house....

"Mom, I hit the baby with my ball and now she's crabby and I'm going to get swallowed by a whale."

"You love your big brother, dontcha baby? Yes, you do."

"Mom, I took her plug away and she's not crabby."

"Mom. I know I'm not supposed to be in her crib when she's napping, but I wanted to see her smile."

"I think I heard my baby. Let's go get her!"

"Dad! Bring Mom!" (apparently, I wasn't moving enough for him that night. He had only called for me twice!)

"Mom, I have an idea! Let's move Rudy's crib into my room and then we can put another baby in Rudy's room." (this was at 1 am)

"Let I see what's the matter."

"I already see-ed, Mom." (in response to any time I say, "We'll see."

"It's bedtime? That's awful."

"Mom!!!! My butt is cracked."

"How is a whale born?"

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a bee. I just have to grow a stinger and fill in my crack."

"Don't let my baby sleep, Mom. I want to play with her."

Me: Tomorrow is Saturday so Daddy doesn't have to work. Baba: No, Mom, Sad days are when Dad has to work.

Baba: Did someone forget a washcloth? Me: Did someone forget his manners? Baba: Did someone forget a washcloth, please?

"Mom! Let's name our next baby, 'Baby Skunk!' "

"Can I go back to day-care so you can have another baby in your tummy?"

"C'mon, Wili. Let's play bat-the-ball!"

"Make me something I've never ever had for lunch before."

"Spinach! I want spinach on my lunch."

"I don't think I've watched enough TV."

Child Labor

Why did they make child labor illegal? They look so cute doing it.
Note the hearing "selection." He is safe while laboring.

And Rudy makes such a good supervisor.

A typical day...

Today, like all days, started way too early. The boy alarm went off just after 5 am and the girl alarm went off shortly there after. Both woke up happy. I woke up crabby. I like sleep. Baba started the day by crawling in the crib to see his baby. And then told me to take a picture. My camera has been MIA since Saturday when we came home from my parents. I told the boy I didn't know where it was. He showed me where it was. Last time I let him "help" me unpack.

I told the boy it was time to get dressed. He told me it was time to farm. And he had a lot of farming to do today so he needed to be a naked farmer. I was laughing too hard to tell him no. Rudy then gave me a present in her diaper so we went upstairs. In the time it took me to change her, the boy had every pillow in the house sitting in front of the couch and was jumping off the couch in his undies. Again, laughing to hard to discourage the behavior.

After some jumping, he decided to go for a swim underwater with Baby Jaguar, so they crawled under the pillows, I mean, water.

Here he is with Wili and Baby Jaguar watching the ships sailing in the ocean. Despite what my least favorite teacher at Baba's school says, I don't think he is ruined by having watched TV. He sat and watched the invisible boats for at least 15 minutes. (The cat was either dead or sleeping since she didn't move during the whole "swimming" adventure that took place).

After I wrangled him into clothing, we went to vote. Baba was very disappointed to learn that voting did not involve a boat or leaving Baby Jaguar on shore while we went boating (he was going to sit in the back of the boat). In order to get over the trauma of finding voting to be not as exciting as he expected, we went to the food store where he got an apple. I tried to talk him into a donut. He insisted on an apple.

Lest you think that Baba is the only strange child in my house, Rudy has spent the last 30 or so minutes laying on her side cooing at our rocking chair.

I know the table is a helluva conversationalist, but I'm surprised at the recliner's way with words.

The Quest for the Halloween Bucket

I love shopping with Baba. First he tells that pharmacist that I shouldn't take my birth control because we want more babies. Then he tells me that I need to find a person in a red shirt to help us find the Halloween bucket he so desperately wants. He then proceeds to tell every person wearing a red shirt (employee or not) that we are looking for a candy bucket for Halloween.

I finally did it!

I've had grocery stores pay me to take various items off their hands, but until today, I've never had a grocery store pay me to take my entire order.

I bought 20 yoplait yogurts (we go through a lot of "o-gurt" in our house - this should last us a week) and 2 Ben and Jerry ice cream treats and they paid me 20 cents. I can probably die happy now.

Hi-to the-larious

Apparently, whoopee cushions are the height of hilarity when you are 3.5 years old and 4 months old (and the parents of said people).

Baba and the Doctor

I had the privilege of taking Baba to the doctor because his "pee-er thing 'tung when pee shot out!" We walked in to check in with the receptionist and my child says, "Mom, I want to talk to her."

So I lift him up. He then says, "I'm here because I'm sick. My pee-er thing 'tings when pee shoots out." The receptionist was able to keep a straight face until she looked at me and saw that I was giggling. We then had the most exciting adventure in his short life - peeing in a cup. He thought that was the neatest thing ever and has been asking to pee in a cup since then. He also has been telling everyone and their brother that he got to pee in a cup.

When the doctor made it in the room, my child scales the examining table and announces, "my pee-er thing hurts. Do you have the tools to fix it?"

The doctor almost giggles. I have told Baba repeatedly that pee-er thing is not the proper term, but he keeps telling me he likes pee-er thing better. Oddly enough, he has no problem calling his knees patellas as in, "Mom, I washed my patellas, can I get out of the tub?".

Anyway, after our fun at the doctor's office, he announces he doesn't want to be a big boy any more. I ask him what he wants to be. He says, "I want to be a girl because girls don't have pee-er things and if he was a girl he wouldn't have a pee-er thing and then his pee-er thing wouldn't hurt."

I really couldn't argue with that logic.

Uff-da!

I "rented" Finding Neverland from the library (I love Peter Pan, one of my all time favorite stories/movies/plays/etc) because I still haven't seen it. Instead of watching that, we are watching Mr. Baseball. Not my first or last choice for the evening. I've seen it once. Once was enough.

I've come to the conclusion that Baba is a Minnesota boy. In the past few days he has said, "You betcha," and "Uff-da you are a heavy kitty, Wili." Zippy and I almost peed our pants laughing at the uff-da. I didn't realize that Zippy or I said uff-da on a regular basis.

Baba and I were going through Rudy's closet this afternoon, switching out the 3 to 6 month clothes for the 6 to 9 month clothes (yes, she isn't quite 4 months old yet). I was packing up the clothes that Rudy outgrew and/or never wore because they are off season. Baba started to throw a fit because his baby hadn't worn those clothes yet. I said we couldn't dress his baby in shorts in the winter. He thought about it and decided the only solution was to have another baby sister and proceeded to run downstairs to tell Zippy we needed another baby. On a happy note, he has lowered his number of sisters he wants from 5 to 3. As Zippy said, I'm only one set of triplets away from that. The odds of spontaneous triplets is one in 8100. It could happen. I hope it doesn't.

Its a Miracle!

Rudy slept from 9:15 PM to 5:15 AM.
Miracles do happen. Now only if we could get the big boy named Baba to sleep that well. He was up at 5:15 AM, too (which was an improvement from the previous day's 4:30 AM) and CRABBY! Of course, he wasn't ready to nap until 3:30 this afternoon.

An Open letter to the Neighbor....

Dear Ziz's Nemesis,

What on earth are you still running your air conditioner? You were running it that night it got down to 50. Why? And, please stop abandoning your dog in your front yard. He barks. A lot.

Oh, and when my child says, "Hi neighbor!" please don't glare at him. He's three not sixteen. He's not selling anything, he just wants to be polite and say hi.

Thanks,

Your Zeighbor

And a letter to the makers of Zullzrog sunscreen:

Dear Zullzrog,

I bought your sunscreen this year. Despite it being a BOGO and double coupon day it was a waste of money (I paid just over $4 for 2 things of sunscreen). I applied your SPF 45 thrice on Sunday and am doing a fine imitation of lobster girl.

Thanks,

Your Zunburned Zriend

Is it Santa Claus?

We've been re roofing my parents house for the past week and a half (hail damage - a tornado went through next door and put their neighbor's tree on their neighbor's car). They have a really steep roof. A really, really steep roof. I'm walking around like I'm wearing 6 inch heels even though I'm barefoot. We almost finished today.

Baba wanted to go on the roof. Since he's part monkey, I let him. He was super pumped when we sat on the highest part of the roof. He could see so far. He could even see Pa's shop. Which is maybe 100 feet from the house in his backyard. It was a heck of a view.

I heart Grocery Shopping

Here's why I am the greatest grocery shopper ever. Today at Cub Foods I bought the following:

2 boxes of Cinnamon Toast Crunch
1 box of Cheerios
1 box of Reeses Pieces Cereal
2 boxes of Strawberry Chex
1 box of Honey Nut Chex
1 box of Nature Valley Granola bars (Honey and Oat, if you must know)
2 boxes of Betty Crocker fruit snacks (Spider man for the little boy and Transformers for the big boy)
1 bag of hamburger buns

My grand total was $1.96.

What a downer!

I was so looking forward to balancing the checkbook tonight and my statement isn't ready. I really wanted to balancing the checkbook. What a bummer.

Baba Learns About Gravity

We went to the cabin last weekend. The boy loves water. He didn't care that it was raining when we got there, he still wanted to be in the water (since he was going to get wet anyway and I didn't have to be out with him, I had no objections to Pa taking him out in the rain). The rain finally stopped and we got to play in the lake. Yeah!

The boy decided he was going to jump off the end of the dock. He decided not to tell anyone. Although he had a lifejacket on, that darn gravity pulled him under. He didn't like it because water went up his nose, but he was going to try again later.

We figured he would be done for the night. It was pretty late when he took his dip so we headed up to the cabin. When he heard we were going in, he was unhappy. He wanted to go tubing. That child has no fear.

The Captains: Hook vs Morgan

I brought the children to the liquor store today (I am such a good Mom!) because we are going to the cabin this weekend and we needed vodka. I put the children in the cart and drove right to the Karkov and headed for the door.

And
I
Got
Carded

Yeah, 2 kids and I get carded. How come the only time I didn't get carded was when I was in college and drinking while not quite of age.

But, on the way out, Baba saw a bottle of Captain Morgan. He asked if that was Captain Hook. I said, "No, that's Captain Hook's cousin, Captain Morgan."

While I was mixing the Peppermintini bucket, Baba asked what it was.

I said, "It's a drink."
Baba said, "I like drinks."
I said, "It's a drink for big people."
Baba said, "I'm a big boy named Baba."
I said, "It's a drink for big people who are 21 or who have a fake I.D. saying they are 21. Are you 21 or do you have a fake I.D.?"
Baba said, "No."
I said, "Then you can't have any."

Rudy didn't even ask for some. If I can't pass for 21, she can't pass for 21.

The Boy on why Pa hunts.....

Baba: Look Mom! We have two rolls of duct tape.

Me: (half paying attention while trying to get the squirming 3 year old and the screaming baby into the car) That's good news.

Baba: That's why Pa goes hunting, to kill ducks to make duct tape.

Da Plane! Da Plane!

While waiting for Curious George to come on this afternoon, we caught the tail end of the purple monster (Barney - the boys name for him, not mine. Usually Baba screams whenever Barney dares prance across his TV, thus the monster). The unbelievably obnoxious Barney brats had built a airplane out of boxes. Guess what we did this afternoon?

The boy wanted to fly with his sister to his McDonalds (the one with the truck in the play-place), but Zippy and I couldn't come because his plane was too little for all of us to fit. Rudy played along for a few minutes. She's a good sport.

He wouldn't stop begging for propellers, so they got added right before bedtime.

Now he needs a real engine - he doesn't want to pretend fly. If you give a mouse a cookie......

The baby who says, "Waaaaa!"

The little baby doesn't sleep. Well, that's not true. She sleeps just fine if you are holding her (except Thursday night, Friday night, and Saturday when she screamed all night. That was exciting), but as soon as you lay her down, she's up. Just like her brother. But, we believe we have the screaming all day and night figured out (new formula and its like we got a new baby - she was back to her happy self).

Speaking of her brother. He got a pair of shoes that he can put on all by himself (pretty cool when you are 3). We went to the park today. He ran over to some kids playing and asked if he could play with them. They said yes (which is good, because they couldn't have been more than 8 and I could have easily taken them). He ran back to me and told me he made a bunch of new friends. He then ran back to his friends and told him that he could put on his shoes all by himself. They were polite enough to tell him that was cool.

When I was snuggling with Baba tonight, he said he had fun today. I said that's good and asked if he liked being home with Mom and his sister. He said he did. I asked if should go back to work. He said no. That's all the confirmation I needed.

Fun with Jaundice

Rudy had juandice. Thankfully its all over, although the glow-in-the-dark alien baby was an interesting edition to the family.

The wait is finally over.....

RudolphtherednosedreindeerFionna-honker has finally made her appearance:

5/27 @ 5:09 PM

9 pounds 5 ounces (ouch!!!! If I would have known, I would have opted for the repeat C-Section)

20 inches long

Baba thinks his sister is cute, especially her toes. Her toes are Zhompson toes - I have 'em, my father has 'em, the boy has 'em, and now Rudy has 'em - long, scrawny, and crooked.

Still Pregnant

'Nuff said.

I'm a Guitar Hero!

Zippy really, really, really wanted Guitar Hero for our Wii. Since I bought the Wii for him, I've been hearing about his lifelong ambition to become a guitar hero. I finally broke down.

Turns out, I'm the greatest Guitar Hero ever. I thought I sucked at Guitar Hero. I thought I didn't like playing it. Turns out, 10 years of piano lessons makes you really quite good at playing a silly video game.

I really like video games. If only they'd come out with Keyboard Hero. Oh. Or Kazoo Hero.

The Name Saga

We've been working on convincing the boy that everybody has two names - one name while you are in Mom's tummy and a new name when you are born. He was Zebulon Isaac Thaddeus while he lived in my tummy and he's now Baba. :-)

So, my mom asked Baba what his sister's name is. Baba said, "Her name is RudolphtherednosedreindeerFionna-honker. But that's just her name now."

My mom said, "What will her name be after she's born?" (I'm sure she was hoping to get the real name out of him - we are withholding that information - she wasn't thrilled when Ditty started bragging about knowing the name. Te he he).

My child said, "Rudy."

Well, at least Rudy is more realistic than Rudolph...Fionna-honker!

10%

The good people at Target offered me a $25 gift card if I created a baby registry. I like Target and I like gift cards so I complied. A couple clicks of the scanner and 10 minutes later, I was $25 richer and never thought about my registry again.

Until I got a coupon in the mail from my friends at Target offering me 10% off anything left on my registry (which was everything). The coupon encouraged me to register for diapers, formula, and any other last minute items. Since babies tend to need diapers (and I am NOT washing cloth diapers - besides I'm not decide which is more environmentally friendly - washing loads and loads of laundry or filling landfills), I accepted their generous offer.

Zippy and I registered for everything babies need that I had coupons for. We then took our registry, 10% off coupon, and my other coupons to the front of the store to checkout. The cashier rang everything up the total was, gulp, $132.41. She couldn't get the coupon to scan, so she decided to take the 10% off manually. She thought 10% should be about $30.

My jaw almost hit the floor. Besides 100% or 50%, 10% is one of the easiest percents in the world. I told her it was $13.24. She told me I was really good at math. I'm really good at being honest.

The newest addition to our family...

This is Mr. Wili.

She is almost 6 years old and my big-furred kitty (3 years ago I took her to the vet. They told me that at 12 pounds she needed to loose weight. I took offense and haven't taken her to the vet again).

This is Thomas.

We adopted Thomas Monday night. The boy named him. He looked at the cat and said, "That's Thomas." Since he was naming a cat and not attempting to name his sister RudolphtherednosedreindeerFionna, we didn't argue.

Mr. Wili is scared to death of Thomas. I can see why. Thomas has got to weigh 2 pounds, maybe. Thomas had Wili cornered under Zippy's desk last night. The big cat was growling and hissing at the little cat. Baba said, "It's okay, Wili. Thomas is a nice kitty. He is a friend for you." Wili wasn't convinced.

This is Baba and Thomas taking a pretend bath.

The boy wanted to take a bath with his kitties tonight. I told him that kitties don't like water. He said they would take a pretend bath since they were pretend dirty. Thomas obliged, Wili sat in the doorway and growled. The boy had real fun in the pretend bath. Then he decided he should be the doctor and Thomas should be the sick boy. Thomas did not obliged.

My roots are showing....

Tonight a telemarketer lady called to offer me all kinds of things I would be a fool to refuse. Somehow I managed to refuse the bulk of her offerings.

She wanted me to sign up for some book club. I said I wasn't interested. She said it was really important to read to my children. I said I still wasn't interested and my mom is a teacher so I get books cheaper than what she could offer (the library also offers really cheap books, which I mentioned when she tried to get me to join a different book club).

She then said, "Do you rent or own?"

Not realizing that she had changed topics, I said, "my books?"

She was referring to my house.

Oh and PS, dear telemarketer lady: I understand that your job sucks, but please don't call me at 8:30 on a Saturday night. Although I listened polietly for 11 minutes and 36 seconds it was only because I felt bad that you were telemarketing on a Saturday night not because I cared about your exciting offers chosen just for me.

And the great naming debate continues.....

Trying to name a baby with the help of a very stubborn 3 year old is no easy task. While Baba was in the tub, Zippy and I were going through our list.

Me: Zalyssa?

Boy: No. That name is yuck.

Zippy: Maybe.

Me: Zjosh?

Boy: No. My sister's name is RudolphtherednosedreindeerFionna. That's a good name.

Zippy: We are not naming your sister Rudolph.

Boy: But that's her name.

How can you argue with that? Especially since his cuteness trumps Zippy and my combined cuteness.

HONK!!!!!

Zippy was in the bathroom shaving this morning and heard a door shut. He opened the door and saw Baba sitting at the top of the steps. Baba said, "I woke up Dad."

Baba then opened his bedroom door, pointed to his bed, and said, "See."

Baba raced to our bedroom where I was still sleeping (it was 5:58, I still had 2 minutes to sleep). He stood so his face was about 6 inches from my face and yelled, "HONK!!!!!"

I woke up. He thought it was funny. I wanted my two minutes of sleep. He then said, "C'mon Mom. Let's go watch a movie" and raced down the hallway.

I don't move as fast as he does especially after being awoken with a zealous honk so I didn't follow him (I still had 2 minutes, remember?). He made it half way down the hall, stopped, and said, "I forgot Mom!"

He high-tailed it back to my room and I was up for the day. There is nothing quite like a good honk to get you out of bed.

Super Human Strength

When I was super-pregnant with Baba (like 8 and a half months about to pop any minutes pregnant), I decided that I could no longer live with the way our living room furniture was arranged. My loving husband watched from his computer as his wife, the newest super hero "Pregnant Girl" moved couches, end tables, entertainment centers, and a super heavy steamer trunk that came from the old country around the living room. His only comment was about the temperature of the house when I became warm and turned off the heat so I could open the front door for some air. I fail to see what his problem was, just because it was January in Minnesota.

Today "Pregnant Girl" and all her hormonal glory and strength made her return. I could no longer live with the current arrangement of furniture in the living room. The boy kept asking why I needed to rearrange the living room (he was watching Toy Story and got a ride on the couch and the recliner while I was moving them). Rather than explain hormones and the nesting instinct to him, I just told him I was tired of the way the furniture was arranged.

This time, Zippy helped. I'm not sure if he didn't want his pregnant wife rearranging alone or if he was afraid I would get overheated and freeze Baba to the couch. Either way, I had help.

Cleveland

Thursday, March 13:

Besides for the boy locking himself into a bathroom stall in a gas station in Wisconsin (my deepest apologies for anyone who desperately needed to use that stall, but I wasn't crawling under to unlock it) and his obsession with eating at "Talking Bell" the trip to Cleveland was uneventful. When we got to Zeagan's house, the boy announced he was hungry and she should cook him supper. Zeagan doesn't cook - she makes reservations, so he got an apple instead.

Friday, March 14:

We went to Mongolian BBQ for lunch - my child ate crab, baby corn, and 5 tortillas. He also taste tested everything that Zippy and I got, but that's not unusual. He is really into sharing - which means he eats everything you have.

After lunch, we went to the Children's Museum which had a Galapagos Island exhibit. It was basically a room filled with sand that the boy could dig in to his heart's content.

Saturday, March 15:

We went to Mama Santa's for lunch (yum) and then road the Rapid downtown to visit Zeagan at work. My child ate a butter sandwich and made Zeagan "Hot Cocoa" which was chunks of bread, spinach, and whatever else he could throw in his cup when we weren't watching.

Sunday, March 16:

We had lunch at Panini's (a panini, that is, a real panini, is a beautiful thing), wandered around Coventry, and then headed back to Zeagan's to play with Zabby. The boy impressed us with his mad verbal skillz:

Boy: (gives Zabby brown marker) You can color with this one.

Zabby: Thank you.

Boy: Do you like brown?

Zabby: Yes. Do you like brown?

Boy: I like making in the potty. Do you like making brown in the potty?

Zabby: Yes.

Zippy and I were rolling on the floor. Zabby is 5. I wish I would have had a video camera on those two.

Monday, March 17:

We drove to Wisc. Dells to spend the night at the Atlantis Water park. It is the perfect place for Baba to play - the deepest part of the kiddy pool is 1 foot. The boy runs around the pool (seriously) for a couple hours, goes to bed, wakes up and repeats.

Tuesday, March 18:

We get up and go to IHOP or the pancake store, depending on who you ask for breakfast. The boy "shares" breakfast with Zippy and I. We swim some more and return home.

The Cat

I believe Mr. Wili misses Baba. My mom said she sat in this position for 20 minutes last night.

Don't worry, Wili, we will be home soon and Baba can't wait to see you. He misses you, too.

(By the way, Wili, the back view is not flattering, you look very big furred. Remember, the paparazzi is always watching you)

The Farm Room in all its glory

The bed is revealed

Pa built Baba a wagon bed, complete with wheels and a hitch.

I wish I was almost three and got so excited about stuff that I forgot words.

Baba's New Room

Mr. and Mrs. Zooker came down to paint this weekend. We aren't finished, but this is the boy's reaction to what we've done so far (Pa built the barn).

Routine OB check

There is nothing routine about a routine OB check with an almost three year old. Baba has accompanied me on almost all of my appointments so he knows the routine. He knows how many receptionists are supposed to be working ("Where'd that other guy go?" I guess there were three "guys" last time, and only two today), how many nurses there are, how many lab techs are in the lab, and where the good toys are.

We got to the doctor and checked in. Baba played with the toys until they called for our turn. As we walked back, he said, "Hi jelly man," to the ultrasound tech (he hasn't seen her since Jan, how does he recognize her?). Then, to his wonder, I got to be pee in a cup. He asked if he could pee in a cup. I said no. He asked if he could see my potty. I told him to look with his eyes. He said, "Wow, Mom! You made lots of potty." I felt like taking a bow.

We walked across the hall to the lab and waited for it to be 4:30 so they could draw blood for the glucose tolerance test (I passed, hooray!). Baba asked the tech why she didn't take blood out my arm and why she didn't take more blood.

Then we got to go to the "little room" and wait for the doctor. During our last trip, he was fascinated by the stirrups. I told him they were so the doctor could look at a patient's feet. Because he's almost three and I know everything, he believed me.

As soon as he finished his sucker (I was so prepared), the doctor came in. He said, "Doctor, why is there no little potty in the bathroom for me to go potty in?" I thought it was a fair question and the doctor said he didn't know why there was no little potty, but he would check into it.

The doctor had me hop (relative term) on the exam table. Baba asked, "Are you going to look at Mom's feet?" Luckily, my doctor has a sense of humor and remembered Baba from last time and said that he wasn't going to look at my feet today.

He put the fetoscope on my belly and asked if Baba knew what that sound was. Baba said, "Yes! That's Rudolphtherednosedreindeerfionna." The doctor looked at me and I explained that the boy is convinced that's his sister's name. He said he's heard a lot of unique names, but that is by far the most unique.

After playing with Baba's trucks for a few minutes, the doctor said he'd see us in four weeks. Baba asked, "Where are you going?"

The doctor said, "I've got to get back to work."

My child said, "Get to work, mister!"

Life is definetly more exciting with an almost three year old.

The most important thing I learned.....

I spent the past weekend painting. I spent the weekend before this weekend painting. I like painting. You see, I've come to the conclusion that the belly is not getting any smaller, and panicked. This house will be painted before Rudolph makes her appearance. Paiting around the toilet in our bathrooms (I've got one bathroom left!) is quickly becoming not an option.

I've discovered something during the hours I've spent high on paint fumes - the most important thing I've ever learned is to properly clean a paint brush.

A college degree, a brain brimming over with useless facts, working knowledge of Microsoft Office suites later and the most important thing I know is something I learned in 7th grade art. That and I love my paint brush. When Zippy told me that my little paint brush (stolen from the art room when I was a senior in high school) was "broken" I almost cried. I couldn't imagine having to replace that brush. It'd be like finding a new leg. The replacement might work, but it just wouldn't be the same.

I wonder what my parental units would have said had I told them I wasn't going to college - I had already learned the most important thing I could ever learn - how to clean a paintbrush.

What I did last night.....

My super exciting evening:

I got off of work and picked up the boy from day-care. Apparently, he had been standing at the window saying, "Want you here now, Mom. Hurry up," since he got up from his nap. Everyday it gets tougher and tougher to want to go to work. We went to 'Great-Donalds' to celebrate the day's potty success (can I help it if I wanted ice cream?).

Then we ran around Great-Donalds for a while. A local Great-Donalds used to have a gas station attached. The gas station went out of business, but the gas station part of it is still there - so basically its one big room. Lots of fun for running. Then Baba decided he wanted to go to the library and pick out a Thomas movie. We went but arrived at the library 6 minutes after it closed. No Thomas movie. Darn.

So we went home and watched Clifford instead. We had a lovely dinner of soup and grilled cheese (um, Zennie, I hate to admit it, but Patty-Lou was right, I totally got heartburn from soup. Of course, I get heartburn from breathing because I'm pregnant.....) when Zippy came home and then it was time for Baba to go to bed. Baba disagreed. We made a deal - if he went upstairs and got ready for bed, then we could watch one (1) Thomas story. We watched one (1) Thomas story and then Zippy shut off the TV. You would have though Zippy threw Baba's Pudgie (favoritest stuffed animal) out the window. Baba demanded justice - Dad needed to go in time out for shutting off the TV.

After the fit was over, we went upstairs to read books. I was invited to lay with the boy and accepted. I'm not sure who feel asleep first - me or him.

I woke up to the worst heartburn in the world, took a couple tums, and then got to do my favoritest thing of all: BALANCE MY CHECKBOOK!!!!!! It took me longer than it should have because I pulled the number I was supposed to be balancing to out of my arse. It balanced perfectly once I realized that. Then I went to bed.

The End

Most exciting evening ever?

My quest

Maybe its the hormones talking, but I have decided that Rudolph will not be happy unless she is sleeping in a lime green crib...

And my crib needs to be cheap. I'm not spending a ton of money on something that the child will be sleeping in for maybe 3 years (Baba lasted a year. Apparently, scaling the wall of the crib, balancing on the edge, yelling "Baba jump!" is more fun than sleeping. I suppose hearing/seeing Mom and Dad run into your room after each crash would be amusing).





I mean, really, I've spent at least 5 minutes looking. If they can make a crib like the above, why can't I get a simple, lime green crib. And, its kind of creepy that you would put your child in the belly of a horse to sleep. Of course, Rudolph will be sleeping in the roar room, but still.

Side note. Baba still insists we should name his sister "RudolphtherednosedreindeerFionna." I'm all for unique names and Rudolph is unique, especially for a girl. But can you imagine learning to write that in Kindergarten? The other kids are Joe, Jane, Bob, Kayla, and your name is RudolphtherednosedreindeerFionna.

The Apple and other quick stories

Zippy heard Baba singing "Old McDonald" (always a favorite) in his room tonight when he was supposed to be sleeping. Zippy went in to check on him and found Baba sitting under his nightlight reading one of his farm books.

I so used to do that. When my sister and I used to share a room, we would take turns reading under the night light. And take turns tattling on the other for reading under the night light when we were supposed to be sleeping. Sometimes, he is so much like me, it scares me.

Baba mentioned tonight that he would like his Bob birthday party, please. I asked who he was inviting to the party - Ma, Pa, Mr. & Mrs. Zooker, Ziz, Zicah, Harvard Zosh, and Wili (the cat). It's going to be one heck of a party!

And, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer Fionna is still, by far, Baba's favorite name for his baby sister. We have until May to convince him otherwise.

Baba's Rocking Chair

Baba has a rocking chair, which used to be my sister's rocking chair. There is a picture of my sister sitting in what used to be her rocking chair on the wall at my parents house. Baba didn't really notice it until Christmas. And then became obsessed with why Mrs. Zucher was in her rocking chair and "what can we do to get her out my rocking chair?"

The other highlight of Christmas was my handsome little man in his suit (refused to wear the tie - wonder where he gets that from) and him tearing the paper off every present at my parents house and then carrying it over to Great Pa to show him.

Survey Says

I take a lot of online surveys. Its a great way to earn some extra cash, but please stop asking me if I would be friends with a certain brand if it came to life. I honestly don't know if I would like Target the person as much as I like Target the store.

An update on the plastic hot dog....

When we were in the bathroom getting ready for bed tonight, Baba noticed the plastic hot dog and said, "That don't belong in the bathroom. The bathroom is for people, not for hot dogs."

The hot dog has safely been relocated to Baba's room.

In my bathroom.....

The following items have taken up residence in my bathroom. If they are yours, please claim them.

1. One red tractor.
2. One green tractor with dual rear wheels.
3. One watch that is 1 hour and 15 minutes fast (it is 15 minutes fast so you think you are running 15 minutes behind and don't dally in the morning. It is an hour fast because we got the watch a couple years ago in a Happy Meal and can't figure out how to change it. In a couple months, it will only be 15 minutes fast).
4. One puzzle book.
5. One hardcover copy of John Gresham's the Rainmaker.
6. One green step stool.
7. One plastic hot dog.
8. One copy of "Let's Build."
9. One blue cup.
10. One super old copy of Fortune magazine.

Haircuts

Zippy and I had been thinking Baba needed a haircut for a while. But its so hit and miss with that one - he either screams the entire time or is as good as gold, so we put off the hair cut as long as possible (I trim the back when it starts looking mulletish - no child (or husband) of mine is leaving the house with a mullet).

Last Saturday, out of the blue, Baba announced he wanted Mrs. Mooker (he has taken to calling my sister Mrs. Mooker and nothing else) to cut his hair. I called up Mrs. Mooker and told her to bring her clippers.

After a few minutes, Baba decided he no longer wanted Mrs. Mooker to cut his hair. I asked if Pa could cut his hair. He said no. I asked if Ma could cut his hair. He said no. I asked if Mom or Dad or Mr. Mooker or Pudgie (my parent's dog) could cut his hair. He said no to all of the above.

I asked who could cut his hair.

He thought for a while and then said Harvard Zosh.

In the end, he settled for Mrs. Mooker (who's haircutting name is Dalia, by the way. I think she's adopted).

Swedish Cooking for the Sophisticated Urbanite

Ziz, who fries everything (seriously, fish, zucchini, green tomatoes) in butter flavored Crisco has been insisting that us Swedes are weird since she arrived. We are weird because we eat lefsa (technically, that's Norwegian, but its still darn good), Lutefisk (what's wrong with cod soaked in lye with some nice white sauce? And boiled potatoes, can't forget the boiled potatoes), and pankakor (egg pancakes - they are delicious).

But we throw down tonight. Zippy used my great grandma's recipe and made Swedish meatballs. Yeah, she's coming around. Lutefisk here we come!

Waiting for Christmas

We put up the Christmas tree at our house Saturday night. We were snowed in and had nothing better to do. Since then, Baba has been trying to convince us it is Christmas and it is time to open his presents. Every night he says, "We porgot to open our presents." We take turns telling he we didn't "porget" and he has to wait until Christmas.

Tonight we were talking about why he needs to learn all the letters in his name - so he can "read" the packages on Christmas and pick out which are his. I told him that he would have presents at Great Ma's house, Ma and Pa's house, Grandmy and Grandpy's house, and Baba's new house.

He said, "Wow."

He paused and then asked, "Will Harvard Zosh have presents for me at his house too?"

I told him he can hop on a plane and find out. :-)

Heartbreaking Woogies

The boy has mom/dad cycles. For a couple weeks Zippy will be his best friend and Dad has to do everything. Best of luck to you if you try to serve him breakfast in the morning and you aren't Dad. "Want Dad to pour my cereal." "Want Dad put me in my car seat"

Currently, he is on his Mom cycle. Which means I can do no wrong and Dad can do nothing. He wakes up in the middle of the night and Zippy, being a good husband/father goes to check on him. Baba yells, "No Dad! Don't want you. Me want Mom!"

There are plus sides of being his current favorite. He literally dances for joy when I come home from work, or down the stairs, or leave a room and come back. And he has an abundance of kisses, hugs, and woogies for me.

My child is the inventor of the Woogie. A woogie is a pinch to the cheek done while saying, "Woogie, woogie, woogie." Not really sure where that came from. But, since woogies are rather painful (especially when his sharp little claws get involved), I like to sic him on Zippy. "Go Woogie Dad, Baba." And, since I'm the current favorite, he complies.

Tonight we were watching "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" for the 97th time this weekend (okay, so realistically, it was only the fifth time (which is 5 hours of Christmas fun) since Saturday morning, but my tolerance for bad late 60's Christmas cartoons is waning. The "classic" Christmas shows are shows you watch once a year, not once an hour, but I digress. At least we've moved on from Frosty the Snowman. That sucker is only 20 minutes long. That's three times an hour. You do the math). Baba turned around and said, "Me want to watch backwards so I can look at you Mom."

Yeah, just about made me cry. Little stinker makes it so hard for me to leave him.

Christmas Tree Decorating

Every year we put up the Christmas tree Thanksgiving weekend. It used to be Thanksgiving day as soon as we got home from Grandma and Grandpa whoever's house, but now we have a 7 PM bedtime to think about. We'd pull the tree out of the box (artificial all the way), throw on the ugliest ornaments we could find (you know, the crap you made in kindergarten), and then crawl under the tree and scream Christmas carols at the top of our lungs. Silver bells has always been a favorite.





Not much has changed. We are our all older, but we still come home to put up my parent's tree on or about Thanksgiving day. We still crawl under the tree and scream (last year, Baba was terrified of our, um, singing. This year he thought it was hilarious). And we still find the ugliest kindergarten crap we can find. Pickings were slim this year as my stinking mother has started to throw away/hide some of our "best" work. We'll make up for it throughout the Christmas season by putting various crap (empty beer cans is always a favorite) on the tree.





Nothing like a family tradition to put in you in the holiday spirit.

I wish I would have had a camera....

My poor little neglected blog.

Tonight, Zippy and I took the boy out to a neighborhood Chinese food buffet. The food was most excellent, thanks for asking. The boy wanted to try everything. And I mean everything. He tried crab Rangoon, beef with broccoli, sesame chicken, Peking chicken, stuffed mushrooms, lo mien (his favorite), and all the other dishes that were there. He out ate Zippy and almost out ate me (what can I say? I'm eating for two). I ate so much that I had to call my mom and make sure she fed him while he was at her house (she did, and surprise, surprise, he ate a ton there, too).

Some of the other parents were amazed at my child's lack of pickiness. I just shrug my shoulders. I don't know why he is willing to try everything, but I'm not taking credit for it. The way the belly baby is acting, there is going to be a lot of food that it won't eat. I love broccoli, but since getting preggers, the thought of it is enough to make me yack.

When I walked in (I was meeting Zippy and Baba there; I came right from work), I was looking around trying to find my boys. The little Chinese greeter lady saw me and walked over.

Greeter lady: You looking for someone?
Me: Yes (looking around).
GL: You sit there.
Me: (looking there) I don't know those people.
GL: You sit there (pointing at a different table).
Me: I don't know those people, either.
GL: I find table for you.
Me: That's okay. I'll wait by the door.

I promptly called Zippy and told him to hurry up or I'd be eating with some random people.

Algebra

Today Zennie let me do a few of Zalyssa's algebra problems. Call me a nerd, but algebra is way more fun that work. Actually, if given the opportunity, I would do algebra all day long.

Anyone want to hire an algebra problem solver? I wonder if Zennie would let me do algebra problems at the basketball game Saturday night.

So my sister will get off my back....

Baba was supposed to be a cow for Halloween, however, Zippy's co-worker failed to locate the costume in time for Halloween. He was a farmer instead. Zicah went as a bumble bee, which oddly enough, Baba had been his first Halloween (I went as a homicidal maniac or a crabby pregnant lady - your choice).

At first, Baba did not want to go trick-or-treating. He wanted to stay home and watch Curious George. But alas, Curious George was done for the night and his other option was going to bed, so off we went.

After the first house he was hooked. Ring the doorbell, say "trick-or-treat," and get candy. Who wouldn't love that?

Fun with Pa

My child is not spoiled.

My father did not spend several days figuring out how to make his lawn mower run super slow without dying.

I wonder why Baba loves Ma and Pa so much.

I've Never Licked a Spark Plug (even though Zippy offered)

We're back from Boston. Sadly, I can no longer be a Pirate Who Don't Do Anything (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxLza2Lq1-g), but the trip was fun and worth giving up the title.




Paul Revere's House


We left Thursday afternoon, sort of. We finally got to Boston around 1 AM Friday morning after spending an hour bonding with the MSP tarmac and the O'Hare tarmac. Harvard Zosh escorted us to his bed where we promptly feel asleep.

We woke up bright and early Friday morning and started our day with breakfast (I had a Portabella and pesto omelet - yum!) followed by a stroll around Harvard, Mount Auburn Cemetery where my great, great, great Uncle Newell is buried, and several stops along the Charles river to watch the crew teams practicing. We had dinner with Harvard Zosh and his girlfriend Zory and a neat restaurant (I had fish. I like fish - they are tasty).


Saturday morning we got up to celebrate Harvard Zosh's birthday and then went into the city to walk the freedom trail and go to the aquarium.

Ben Franklin's parents, John Hancock, Paul Revere, Samuel Adams, and others are buried in the is cemetery. A lot of the graves have skulls and cross bones on them. Kinda morbid, isn't?





Irish Potato Famine Memorial






USS Constitution aka Old Ironsides


My new penguiny friend from the aquarium. He is standing with his arms out to cool himself off. He doesn't like swimming because he has cataracts and the other penguins pick on him. Penguins are mean!

I had two goals while in Boston: eat clam chowder and eat lobster. I succeeded Saturday night when Harvard Zosh took us to the Blue Dolphin for dinner (although misleading, they don't actually serve dolphin or porpoise). I became rather attached to my lobster friend and pulled his head off so he could watch me eat.


And finally, for you Miss Zou. I didn't go in, but I did take a picture, just for you:

The Farm: The Happiest Place On Earth

On Saturday morning, after a whole week of listening to Baba say, "Want go Great Ma and Great Pa's house," we gave in. We lost power around 6:30 AM Saturday, so Zippy and I decided to stop at McDonald's for breakfast.

The boy loves McDonalds. We can get him to do almost anything in exchange for a trip to McDonalds. "Sit really still for the doctor and we'll go to McDonalds." "Sleep in your room by yourself for 3 nights and we'll go to McDonalds."

We stopped at McDonalds expecting to hear how Baba wanted French Fries and Apple Dipples. His reaction was quite different. "No want go to McDonald's! Want go Great Ma and Great Pa's house."

Zippy got out of the car to run in and place our order. Baba screamed, "No Dad, get back here!"

I wonder what I could get Baba to do in exchange for a trip to Great Ma and Great Pa's house.

Highlights of Como Zoo

Driving the cars.





Driving the firetrucks.





Driving the dump truck.





Riding on the choo-choo train (not made for anyone over 3 ft. I think I have a scar).





Oh, yeah. And the monkeys. The verbal boy stated that the monkeys were silly, goofy, and funny.