Luke, I am your fodder.

I haven't blogged in like a week - I might have writer's block, I may just be tired, or maybe - just maybe - my kiddos haven't given me much to write about. You know, blog fodder.

The tweets are helping me keep track of the goodness that we do come across though. Take for instance, today, after school at approximately 4:15. This is also known as Emma's I'M STARVING AND YOU NEED TO FEED ME NOOOOOOWWWWWWWW moment.

I was fixing dinner (yes, we eat the early bird special every night... 4:30 or 4:45 meal time), and our poor depraved skin and bones daughter was whining and sassing and did I mention whining about how hungry she was. I offered her a carrot. I offered her some tomatoes. I was not (that should probably say I will never) about to give her a "snack" that would ruin her appetite for dinner. Between great dramatic tears I threatened her with my usual, "Emma, you have a choice. You can have a carrot or you can have a tomato (both of which she LOVES, by the way). I'll give you three seconds to choose. ONE...TWO..." She then chimed in with an Oscar worthy performance, "Mom, stop! I can't think with all this counting!"

And, just last week before dinner she...

Wait, this one is going to need some back story. Remember when we were kids and we pooped and wiped our butts with toilet paper? Good 'ole Charmin or whatever was on sale that week? Well, flushable butt wipes have ruined that all for me. ME. Yes, me. It is my fault. I admit it here and now, journal readers. I LOVE flushable butt wipes. I think they are called something prettier than butt wipes. Maybe "toddler wipes" or moist wipes or something. Point is, I got used to using them on my kids / me after a pooh (aren't you glad you read my blog???) and now my kids are addicted to them. If we run out or are in a public bathroom and I don't have the wipes, they get stressed out. "They aren't wet! (they = toilet paper sheets) They scratch!" Em has even told me she doesn't like to poop at school because the paper hurts her bum.

I'm realizing now this whole story has nothing to do with what I tweeted... Oh, well, you read it this far, you must be sucked in... :)

The other day Em - out of nowhere - announced from the bathroom, "I just pooped and I wiped my butt!" Daddy was all, "Woohoo! Great, now wash your hands!"

That, my friends, is blog fodder. I think what I wanted to ask y'all is, at what point do you stop wiping your kid's butt? I mean, you want it to be clean (i.e. moist wipes) [sorry Auntie Cole] but do you still want to be wiping the butt when your kids is going into junior high?

OI! Ponder that... and MOVING ALONG.

Ben is our literal little literate. WE LOVE THIS KID.

There is no grey area with Ben. Everything is black or white. I 'cannot' remember the conversation but we were talking about our family and Dodo (our dumb dog). At one point we mentioned that Dodo was probably saying something like "Hi, Ben. If you don't want to eat that steak, I'll eat it for you." And Ben was all super specific, "Dogs don't talk." He does that a lot. I'll be snuggling him and squeezing him and telling him he is my little monkey and he comes right back with, "I'm not a monkey, I'm a boy!" etc etc. Ben, you crack us up. I will attempt to tweet your literaries more to impress your followers...

We spent the past weekend in PA. Aunt Miki was visiting from Denver so we made the trip for a mini family reunion. Short and sweet but worth every minute. There is nothing like family and we love you all.

Tweet me

On a daily basis Ben blows me away with his sentences. I am constantly amazed by his thoughtfulness and hit quick wit and his ability to use words to get out of trouble.

Would you like some examples?

Yep, so would I. Too bad I can't remember what he says! There was a time when if one of my kids said something clever I would quickly tweet it (batterbabybunch), then when I was ready to blog I would scroll through my feed, remember the cuteness, and record it here for all eternity.

Well, I am going to start making a concerted effort to capture the awesomeness once again starting tomorrow. Stay tuned for the funny things that come out of the mouths of my babes!

Rylan

Guess what I got to do for 60 hours?

Leave Mr Mom in charge and go visit my bestie and her brand spanking new baby on the opposite side of the country! It was a crazy whirlwind trip (postponed once due to a blizzard), but worth every bit of the travel. Auntie Cole was there for the birth of Em, and she babysat Em while Ben was being born. I wished I could have been there for the birth of Rylan but that kid decided to hang out in her Mama's belly an extra 10 days completely throwing off my plans to sneak out of my convention in CA in early Jan so I could be there when she was born. So, basically I missed the meconium but I got the mustard seeds. (That last sentence will pretty much only be understood by parents reading this journal...) :)

Having an infant in the house is actually a lot like riding a bike. I haven't done the infant thing for - sheesh, FOUR YEARS (how did that go by so fast??) - yet being with Rylan consistently for even such a short time brought back all the muscle memory buried deep within. She felt so fragile when I first picked her up, but by the end of our time together I was tossing her around confidently like a sack of potatoes with no fear of injuring her! (Ah, come on, you know what I mean...)

It also reinforced that I am happy to be beyond the infant years and into a new "season" of child rearing. Wait, that doesn't sound right. Let me explain...

When Emma was born we knew we wanted #2 right away. Let's face it, at age 36 I wasn't getting any younger. I nursed her for 6 months, had just one menstrual cycle and got pregnant again. Just like we planned it. When Ben was born we planned the same calendar. Nurse him 6 months, get pregnant with the third and final and then close up shop. But it didn't happen. When Ben turned 10 months old and I wasn't yet pregnant, I was all, "Ya know, I kinda like our perfect family unit. We got the girl. We got the boy. I'm now 38, we can be done if you want." Daddy was all, whatever you want, baby oven. And we closed the kitchen.

We moved into crawling, then walking, then potty training, preschool and kindergarten. We said good bye to Baby Einstein and hello to Daniel Tiger and Word Girl. The onesies went into the donation bin and now we have a dresser full of big kid clothes. I also got to finally stop polluting the garbage dumps with diapers (as a freaky environmentalist - diapers killed me! But not enough to actually use and have to LAUNDER cloth diapers. Yep, I just called myself a hypocrite so you don't have to. You are welcome.)

I love this stage of parenting. I loved having a newborn... It was the lack of sleep that was so tough!

Needless to say, I got very little sleep the past 60 hours, but I wouldn't have changed it for the world. Auntie Cole, I love you! I love love love that your little baby girl looks EXACTLY like you. She is the best snuggler, makes the funniest faces, and has an extraordinary smile when she is talking with her ceiling spirit friends. I can't wait to see you all again - let's shoot for sooner than later, okay??

Future EmBen, thank you for letting me go hang out and leaving you with Daddy. Thank you for the giant smiles and snuggles I got all day today after returning home. Ben, thank you for your "grown ups come back" song (and Daniel Tiger thank you for teaching him that song). Emsadoo, thank you for asking to stay up for an extra two minutes so we could "hang out" and then thanks for asking for an encore performance of our song "me and my girl".

Kiddos, I love you so stinkin' much. Auntie Cole, welcome to the unconditional love club. I know you are going to be a great addition to the club - you were born to play this role. Rylan, you are one lucky little baby girl. But you probably already know that...

I may have planted about 10,000 kisses on her head in 60 hours. That's not weird, right?

Bubonic plague

No. No. No. No one is ill. This is just a noteworthy example of how when you eliminate electricity from your life, your children's minds thrive...

At one point in our no power having once again penthouse life over the crazy weather weekend drama, EmBen were enjoying some sort of doctor / patient play and I found this written on their bedroom door. Hope y'all take heed when doctor Emma is about because it seems to be serious stuff...

Translation: Ben can't be touched by you.

Blizzard 2 / 2013

Dear future EmBen, What a crazy few months of weather we have had! I'm going to have tshirts printed up that say, "We survived a rolling 12 months on Long Island!" But let me remind you because you are possibly too young to remember, we have been having a ton of fun. This past weekend dumped 30 inches (yes, THIRTY inches) of snow on us in an 8 hour time frame. How is that scientifically possible, you ask? I can't explain it. And if I hadn't seen it with my own eyeballs, I may deny it happened. I'll also offer up some photographic proof. Exhibit one: Benjamin at 12:45pm on Friday, February 8th.

Storm, schmorm. What's all the hullabalu about, Ma?

Well, I woke up at 4:30am Saturday morning and couldn't fall back to sleep. I looked out the window and was stunned at what I saw. A blanket of snow where a line up of cars used to be! I put on my snow clothes and figured I'd get to work. I spent the next 90 minutes shoveling a 15 foot long path to what I thought was the door of our minivan so that I could charge my dead cell phone (Yep, we lost power as we ate dinner Friday night at 5:35pm). My efforts are recorded for all posterity here:

This is not the mini van I was looking for...

It turns out what I thought was the minivan was actually Daddy's car, phew, so I freed the passenger side door from it's snow death but knew I didn't dare turn on the car until I cleared out the exhaust in the back, too. By that point I was physically toasted, so upstairs I went and tag teamed Daddy. He came down and continued the mission, we got the car fired up and the phones charging. While that was happening, we transferred the contents of the frig onto our deck into the snow to keep them from spoiling.

Who wants some cheese? Cheddar? Cottage? Laughing Cow?

Surprisingly, after we tag team shoveled for a good 7 hours, a snow cat appeared and started clearing out the 3-6 foot drifts that had formed in our street. You kiddos loved climbing those giant mountains of snow that formed.

I am Queen of the mountain!

Benjamin, you weren't concerned with climbing the mountains - but you were obsessed with carrying around giant SNOWBALLS wanting more than anything to bring one into our house to play with:

But I found it, Mom! Why cannot I bring it into our house?

(By the beautiful way, Ben, you don't use contractions and WE LOVE IT. Everything you say is so very literal and perfect in our view. But Daddy, I cannot eat my broccoli... I cannot put on my sneakers. I cannot go to bed... etc). We got our power back finally after 49 freezing cold hours on Sunday evening. You both were getting ready for bed and just like after Hurricane Sandy, I didn't let on it had turned back on. I'm sorry if that feels deceitful to you 20 years later as you read this, but Daddy and I really needed you to go to bed without a fuss - we were tired tired tired! You did - thanks, kiddos! - and I snuggled with Daddy on the comfy couch and watched a dvd before we passed out. You woke up this morning unaware the power was on. I turned on the tv so you could watch Sesame Street but did not turn on the lights. It took you a good hour to realize YOU WERE WATCHING TV and we had POWER again before you mentioned it. Then you went mad through the penthouse turning on lights making sure each room was indeed electrified! (They all were and you were wildly happy!)

It rained all morning which helped to wash away a good portion of the street slush, so we made our way down the street to the high school for some sledding. It was a ton of fun and you both showed off some amazing athletic balancing skills on the bumpy trail. You were not afraid and Daddy and I were very proud of your mad skills. Em, your sledding position of choice was forward facing criss cross apple sauce. Ben, you preferred to go backwards on your hands and knees with your butt up in the air. Too funny!

Hold on tight!

I assure you that is a face of JOY!

It was a crazy weekend. My trip to CA got postponed for a week because there was no way I was getting to the airport, but I trust it all happened for a reason. I'll let you know as soon as that reason makes itself clear to me!

Wandering down the street with no fear of cars as it was too snowy for anyone to get through! Look at all the abandoned cars!!

These are not the droids you are looking for.

Benjamin has never seen St*r Wars. He has no idea who Yoda is... Yet, our little man is a Jedi in training.

Get this. Whenever we catch him doing something he probably shouldn't be doing, he tries the 'ole Jedi mind trick on us.

For example, this morning I heard him rustling around in his bedroom. As I didn't want him to wake Emma, I quickly opened his door with the intention of quietly shooing him out of the room and into the living room.

What I found upon opening the door was a naked boy! I instantly assumed he must have wet the bed (I was right - we got in late last night, he slept late... it happens so rarely one cannot be aggravated). He looked at me and without hesitation in order to change the inevitable subject said, "Look, Mommy! I took my pajamas off all by myself! I'm gonna put on new pajamas!" He was so sweet and enthusiastic I couldn't help but laugh and he did not get into trouble (not that he would have).

But the point is, he does this ALL THE TIME (especially when he knows he is about to get into trouble). Sadly, all too often his dang Jedi powers work on us! I don't know if it is the quick wit combined with the incredible enthusiasm, but one cannot stay angry at Ben for more than 3 seconds.

Surely this is a skill that will be developed in him with all his successes. Little does he know his Mama and Daddy perfected it as children, too, and will only allow its use in mild behavioral transgressions. But, dear Ben, there will be many an adult/teacher at your school who will be unaware of your skill. Wield your power to do good, my son.

Charter Girl

Emma has always responded positively to the use of "charts" yet I rarely use them. What is the matter with me? Whether it was potty training, sharing, cleaning up or what have you - when I tracked her good behavior with charts - she was GOOD.

The past few weeks have been a bit rough around the penthouse. You have probably noticed I have been blogging about sunshine Ben more than anything else - mostly because Em has stressed me out and I don't feel like talking about it. The lying! The bullying! The sass! The blatant disrespect! I know, I know - you have all hung out with her and you don't believe me...

Well at the beginning of this week I was absolutely fed up ready to purchase handcuffs so I could lock her to her bed when I had an epiphany. CHARTS! Duh - mama!

I immediately drew a LIE chart out. Every time she told a lie she got a check. After three checks she was to lose her favorite toy for a week. Daddy jumped in and suggested we reinforce the positive and call it a TRUTH chart - for every day she did not tell a lie, she got a star. (Daddys are so smart sometimes...)

I then drew up a KINDNESS chart. Kindness including everything from random acts of kindness to good behavior to eating dinner / drinking milk without a fuss or sass.

Guess what?

This kid has been on her best behavior all week and we have gotten along better than we have in a long time. We snuggle on the couch reading books, we dance, we sing songs... The penthouse has been an absolute joy to hang out in all week.

So faithful readers, do me a favor, will ya? Whenever you read my complaints about behavior issues with Em in the future, remind me to reread this post and bust out my sharpies and a clean piece of paper!!

(Ben could care less about charts... go figure.)

Well visit x2

Ben had his 4 year well visit to the Pediatrician on Friday morning. It is usually a source of giant stress and headaches for this Mama because he is afraid, but thanks to our pal, Daniel Tiger and his recent cartoon visit to the doctor, this trip was easy breezy!! He let her do all the necessary checks with a giant smile on his face and he chatted her up the entire time. Go Ben! (And considering his recent tantrums I was especially on edge...) He weighed in at 40.5 pounds and is 41 inches tall. The doctor called him a perfect square!

From the doc we hit up "library school". There was a visitor in the class - another dental hygienist - and Ben showed off his mad skills cleaning the puppets teeth with the giant toothbrush again.

We picked up Emma from school a bit early and headed to the Dentist for a checkup. Good thing, take a good look at this blurry pic below. She already has an adult tooth growing in behind her row of baby teeth! We have a shark on our hands! The dentist said her teeth look awesome, to continue doing what she is doing but to start working regularly on wiggling that front tooth to get it out of there. If it doesn't come out naturally in the next 6 months they may have to extract it, but he felt pretty confident it would fall out and the adult tooth would move forward and fill in the space it was meant to.

We're gonna need a bigger boat!

Ben was also super studly in the dentist chair. His only challenge was keeping his mouth open for longer than 3 seconds at a time. His teeth are also cavity free and the dentist seemed happy with his progress. Both kids got a cleaning and a flouride treatment for free thanks to the Stony Brook University Kids Dental Health day. Hooray for Dental Health Month!!

Ben in the chair, Emma observing.

Not a tear to fear.