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