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.

Baba want go Ma and Pa's house.

I wonder why Pa (my father) is Baba's favorite person in the world.

Me want apple

If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, what will 4 to 5 apples a day do for you? Baba is obsessed with eating apples. He wants an apple for a pre-breakfast snack, and apple for the car ride to day-care (its at least a 12 minute drive), an apple at day-care, an apple when he gets home, and an apple before bed.

And, you can't cut it up. He likes to eat it whole and eat the whole thing. Seeds, core, stem, you name it. The first thing he talks about when he wakes up in the morning is eating an apple.

Zippy met us at the clinic for Baba's 2 week post op (the tubes are in and working - hooray!). Baba hadn't napped all day (not so hooray, I desperately needed a nap). He fell asleep in the car and slept through me taking him out of the car, walking to the clinic, getting into the elevator, and pressing the "2" button. When the elevator stopped, Baba woke up and saw Zippy. He said, "Hi Dad, Baba ate apple."

Nursery Rhymes A La Baba

As overheard outside his door while he was singing instead of sleeping.

Dumpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Dumpty Dumpty broke. No horses.

Old McDonald had a farm. Ee-i-o. Horse here. Horse Everywhere. Hee-haw. Horse no say hee-haw. Baba funny. Neigh here.

Baba is funny. I had a very hard time not cracking up.

Poor little blog....

Its hard to find time to write something when you are working a million (give or take a couple hours) a week. I leave the house around 7:15 and usually don't get home until 6:30 or 7 at night. Oh yeah. I also like to work on Saturdays.

I just found out about a new Gap, I mean, Zap roll out. I emailed Zippy and said, "You don't really like seeing me in the evening right?"

Zippy replied, "Nah. Can I invite my mistress over?"

Miss ZennieZou's wedding is on Sunday and my big toe has a chip! It's terrible. I guess my only option is to get another pedicure. Darn the luck.

For Crimes Against France

We butchered chickens with Zippy's parents today. Perhaps because Zippy, Ziz, and I have seen The Addams Family way too many times, we repeated the scene where Wednesday and Pugsley try to behead Pubert for crimes against France several times. We got quite good and hmming France's national anthem. "Woe to the Republic."

Today was a big day of "firsts" for Ziz. Her first time shooting a BB gun (she did not shoot her eye out, we just shot cans), her time riding in the back of a pickup truck (come to think of it, I'm not sure she has ever rode in the cab of a pickup truck), her first time holding a live chicken, her first time holding a beheaded but still moving chicken, her first time plucking a chicken, her first time gutting an animal of any kind, and her first time washing chickens. We'll make a farm girl out of her yet!

S-M-A-T

I like to think of myself as a smart (s-m-a-t) girl, but there is just a connection that I'm not getting. Every time I eat something with gluten in it, I spend an extended length of time in the bathroom, visiting my friend "el throno". No gluten? No getting sick.

So I go gluten free for a few days. I get to feeling really good.

And then I cheat. I alternate between having just a little gluten (a bite of a cookie won't hurt me, right?) and a lot (a whole pizza won't hurt me, right?) with the same results.

Have a learned my lesson? Kind of. Pizza, not worth getting sick over. The Belgian waffle roll dipped in chocolate, smothered with whipped cream and sprinkles I had at the State Fair today, totally worth getting sick for.

Hold me back....

I've discovered Facebook. Do I have time to get into MySpace to?

In a van down by the river....

We went to visit the Mighty Mississippi a couple weeks ago on the way to my aunts house. Baba started screaming, "Baba get out car now. Baba want to walk!" And since he has mastered the doors in Mom's car we took his threats seriously and stopped the car at a park.

Zippy would have been perfectly content viewing the river from afar. Baba and I wanted to get up close and personal with the river (and on the climb up I almost stepped on the dead fish that we had been discussing the smell of since we climbed down the bank to the river).

Baba wasn't content to just look at the river. We had to draw in the sand. Guess what we drew? What's that you say, tractors and wagons? Ding, ding, ding. You are the winner. Baba's tractors and wagons look more like squiggly lines to me, but I'll let it slide. He is only 29 months.

Ever since we moved to Baba's new house by the pond, Baba has been obsessed with fishing (it fits right in between his obsession with going to Ma and Pa's house, tractors, and trucks). So, Baba found a stick by the river and proceeded to "fish". We caught no fish.

The highlight of the journey down to the river (besides the dead fish, of course). Was the airplane that Baba spotted. I'm still not sure how he saw it. I believe the plane was a couple feet below orbit.