Disappointment, in the Form of Cultured Coconut and Dance Rooms

We went to Trader Joe's after dropping Luke off at school yesterday. Trader Joe's is always on my need-to-go-to list because it's the only place around here that has the coconut milk "yogurt" that Weston eats (will this child ever outgrow his dairy intolerance?!) but I put it off as long as possible because it's pretty far from home. As such, when we do finally get a chance to go there, I spend an obscene amount of time looking at everything. As soon as we pulled into the parking lot...

Weston: We at store now?
Me: Yes, we are.
Weston: What we do at store?
Me: We're going to buy some chicken and some Lara bars and some yogurt.
Weston: Weston yogurt?
Me: Yes.
Weston: YUUUUMMM! I eat Weston yogurt at store?
Me: No, we have to buy it and take it home first.
Weston: Whhhyyyyy?
Me: They don't like for us to eat things before we buy them.
Weston: Awwww.

Five minutes later, as we were browsing the aisles...
Weston: Me eat Weston yogurt now?
Me: Have we paid for it yet?
Weston: No.
Me: Then no.
Weston: Awwwwww.

Five minutes later, still browsing the aisles...
Weston: Mama! Buy Weston yogurt now! Me eat it in the car.
Me: I don't think so.
Weston: Whhyyyy?
Me: Because you need a spoon to eat yogurt.
Weston: A spoon?
Me: Yes. And where are the spoons?
Weston: In our house.
Me: So we'll be eating the yogurt once we get to our house.
Weston: Awwwwww.

When we went to pick Luke up later (after our yogurt snack, of course)...
Weston, peeking into the dance room at preschool: Mama, what this is?
Me: That's the dance room. It's where the big boys and girls dance.
Weston, starting to bounce up and down: Me dance?
Me: No, it's just for the children who go to school here. Would you like to dance at home?
Weston: No. Dance at school.
Me: Next year, you can dance at school.
Weston: Whhhyyy?
Me: Because you have to be three years old to come to school here.
Weston: I three years old?
Me: No, you're two.
Weston: Awwwwww.

Back to School

On Monday, Luke's preschool had a transition day, which meant that he had a slightly shortened day and I got to go with him while Weston got some solo time with McMoose. Last year, Luke started school in the middle of the year, so we didn't get to see all the beginning of the year stuff that happened. This year, I'm getting to experience it and I admit that I was skeptical about the logistics of transition day at first. I was worried that the children with stay-at-home parents would get to come and the ones with working parents would not--but as it turned out, all the kids in Luke's class came and it was a lovely, sweet way to re-introduce the kids to preschool. Plus, have you tried asking a four-year-old what went on at school? At least at our house, those conversations go something like this:

Me: How was your day?

Luke: Good.

Me: Did you do anything fun?

Luke: Yes.

Me: ...Would you like to tell me about it?

Luke: I went to school.

Me: ...Yes, I realize. What did you do there?

Luke: I'm not going to tell you.

Me: Right. Any new friends?

Luke: Yes. 

Me: Who? 

Luke: Kids at my school.

Me: Do they happen to have names?

Luke: I think so. 

Me: Do you know any of these names?

Luke: Well...I just know my own name because it's Luke.

Here are some pictures from today (his first full day of school...because I forgot to take them on Monday.)

 

 

Whobody?

Weston's current favorite word is "whobody." For example...

Weston: Whobody bamming with a hammer?
Me: I think it's our neighbor.

Weston: Whobody drinked Weston's water?
Me: You did.
Weston: No me did it. You did it.

Weston: Whobody riding his bike?
Me: I have no idea who that is.
Weston: That a people riding his bike on road. See people?
Me: Yes, I do see the person.
Weston: Noooo! It not a person! It a people!

I know that someday in the not-too-distant future, he'll learn to say, "who," and it will be a sad day when he does. Until then, I am fully encouraging and enjoying the use of "whobody."

Busy

Weston: Hey, Yuke-bear.
Luke: I'm busy.
Weston: Hey, Yuke-bear!
Luke: No, I'm busy.
Weston: HEY, YUKE-BEAR!
Luke: I am busy.
Weston: Heyyo, Busy!

Paint

At what point, I wonder, does painting no longer turn into a whole-body experience?

Addicted

This week, Luke and I have been reading Little House in the Big Woods and I'm at least as interested in the story as he is. We sneak in a chapter in the morning, maybe another before quiet time, and a couple more before bed and each time we get to the end of a chapter, we have a conversation that goes something like this:

Me: So that's the end of that chapter.
Luke: Yup. It sure is.
Me: Yup.
Luke: So...
Me: So...
Luke: Well...
Me: Yeah...
Luke: Maybe we should...
Me: Read another chapter?
Luke: Yes! I love that idea!
Me: Ok, me too! Let's do it.

We end up feeling quite like co-conspirators and instead of our usual 5 or 10 minutes of reading together, we end up reading for an hour. We are living up this last week of summer break.

Week-long Marathon

At the beginning of this summer, Luke sat down and made a bucket list of things that he wanted to do this summer. While I didn't write down my list, I did have one and it was pretty easy to remember because it went something like this:

(1) Potty train Weston
(2) Do the things on Luke's list.

So early on, we half-heartedly talked about the potty and tried to get into the habit of getting Weston to use it, but in case you didn't know, there's just so much fun to be had during the summer! And the idea of staying home for several consecutive days and really working on these skills with him was...not appealing. So after a two or three days of very casual attempts, I said, "Oh, I'll do it in a month." And a month later, there was camp and there were beach trips and I said, "Oh, I'll do it closer to his birthday." Then, his birthday came and went and all of a sudden, I found myself very close to running out of "summer." (Why must it be during the summer, you might ask. After all, isn't the benefit of being a stay-at-home mom that you don't have to structure these things around someone else's schedule? Well, yes. But also, no. Because in about 10 days, our entire lives will revolve around preschool. I don't even understand it.)

So I decided that this was the week. I cleared 90% of the things off our schedule so we could do this thing. And this? This week that just passed? Has been maybe the longest week of my life. It didn't help that both kids have had upset stomachs this week. (Upset stomachs. During potty training week, for crying out loud. Talk about trial by fire!) Didn't help that Weston has taken to waking up at the very crack of dawn since moving into Luke's room. Really, really didn't help that I couldn't run out and get some tea at Starbucks anytime I wanted because--potty training! But we seem to have made it through to the other side (knock on wood, cross my fingers, whatever.) The idea of being done with daytime diapers is thrilling.

Big

There's a lot of big-ness going on around here.

Big Feet. I took Luke shoe shopping today because I noticed that every time he has tried to put on his shoes recently, there has been a lot more hopping, fussing, and requesting help. The reason, as it turns out, is that his feet are two sizes bigger than his current shoes. Oops. We bought him some new shoes then and there and they have real shoelaces in them and he is so excited about learning to tie them. Every time I look down and notice his feet, I think, "Why does he have on big-kid shoes?! Those things are huge!"

Big Milestones. Last weekend, McMoose and I left the kids with my mom and stepdad and had a mini-vacation by the sea. I expected that Weston would have more trouble with it, but he seems to have been fine with it AND he slept through the night both nights that we were gone. Now, he does this from time to time when we're home, too, but for the most part, he was still waking up in the middle of the night and climbing into bed with us. Not a huge deal, but he's getting bigger and kickier, so we decided to try moving him to Luke's room and he has been so excited about sleeping on Luke's bottom bunk that he has stayed in there and slept through the night all week. (Of course, this means that my insomnia has returned and I lie awake until the wee hours of dawn and then I'm grouchy all day. AND I no longer have the convenient excuse of a night-waking toddler to excuse the wakefulness and/or grouchiness.)

Big Attitudes. After spending a weekend away from us, Luke was feeling quite full of himself and was under the impression that he no longer had to listen to us. At various points this week, he has informed us of such things as, "I do what I want and don't do what I don't want," "I am feeling defiant today," and "I do not like that plan."

Big Plans. I told Luke today that I wanted to take a look at his winter clothes so I could see which ones might still fit him and have a better idea of what I need to look for when I randomly search through consignment sales and clearance racks. He asked me if that meant I would need to be in his room during his quiet time and I said yes, to which he replied, "Well, then, you probably shouldn't do it. I usually like to have my quiet times in peace."

Big Jokes. Weston has discovered potty humor. Oh, has he ever. Luke never really went through this particular phase, so this is new to us. He walks around all day, working the word "poo-poo" into every conversation possible and then, he and Luke laugh uproariously.

Big Plants. We planted carrots, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, and green beans in the garden this year. Based on past experiences and some research, we were expecting some carrots, lots of tomatoes, a reasonable number of peppers, maybe a cucumber or two, and a few green beans. Instead, we have deformed, miniscule carrots, enormous, giant tomato plants with very few tomatoes on them, no peppers to speak of, a cucumber plant that shows no signs of growing cucumbers, but tries to take over the entire garden (including any human beings who get too close and stand too still,) and an insane number of green beans. We've only been picking the beans for the past three weeks or so, but already, we've eaten them with three meals and have one more meal-sized portion sitting in the fridge and three more meal-sized portions sitting in the freezer. Up until this week, we were harvesting once a week, but this week, we had to do it twice because they're growing so fast. If the harvest season really runs through October like it's supposed to, we'll be eating frozen green beans all winter. (Yay!)

Signed, Notarized, And In Triplicate

For the past almost-two-years, I've been putting off some paperwork that really needed to get done because: (a) I didn't want to do it; (b) I couldn't concentrate on it with the kids running around; (c) I was worried about the end result of filing said paperwork; and (d) I really just didn't want to do it. Today, finally, was the day that I sat down to do it. It went something like this:

(1) Dear Friend comes over to watch the kids so I have no more excuses.
(2) Instead of doing paperwork, go out to the garden and pick a pile of green beans and two tomatoes.
(3) Instead of doing paperwork, go to Starbucks. Because clearly, caffeine is a necessity in this kind of endeavor.
(4) Instead of doing paperwork, sit and visit with Dear Friend until it becomes clear that really, I need to go get started.
(5) Go into office and close door. Sit in spinny chair. Spin.
(6) Turn on laptop. Huff.
(7) Open the half-finished form, which has been untouched for the past almost-two-years.
(8) Look through the information to see if anything has changed. Realize that two years ago, I weighed twenty pounds more because Weston was just a few months old. Gleefully change this information. Congratulate self on postpartum weight loss. Wonder why, if I have lost all that weight, I still have what Luke calls "a big, jiggly belly."
(9) Realize that one of the documents I didn't want to look for is no longer relevant because I have waited long enough that it no longer falls within the window of "During the past five years." Celebrate because this might be the first time procrastination has served me well.
(10) Complete the entirety of Form A.
(11) Realize that before I can submit Form A, I need to complete, submit, and wait for approval of Form B.
(12) Huff.
(13) Complete most of Form B. Call people who might have the rest of the information. Leave messages on their voicemails.
(14) Realize that before I can submit Form B, I may or may not need to complete, submit, and wait for approval of Form C. Realize that no information exists IN THE ENTIRETY OF THE INTERNET about whether I do or do not need to complete Form C prior to submitting Form B.
(15) HUFF.
(16) Read the requirements for Form C. Huff again because every. blessed. thing. has to be notarized.
(17) Realize that in order to file Form C, I either have to mail sensitive legal documents and put my trust in a delivery service or personally deliver the documents to an office that is near my mom's house. Where we spent all of last week. When I could have turned in the documents. If I had known about it.

I am really not interested in being an adult any longer. Where's the form to request an adjustment in status back to childhood?

Waiting for the Other Shoe

My house is clean (for a place that houses two adults, two littles, a dog, and two cats.)

My house is quiet (compared to the din that usually fills these walls.)

I have managed to check off the things that were on my to-do list for today and we're only halfway through the day.

I had enough time to put lunch together while the kids played without squabbling. Had enough time to sit down and eat with them instead of trying to catch up on whatever I was falling behind on. Had enough time to wipe down the table and sweep the crumbs off the floor so that later this afternoon, I will not have to battle the ants that so love to invade our home.

More and more, I find myself feeling like I've got this life-as-a-parent thing under control. Finally.

(I'll sit here, enjoying the clean and the quiet for the next few minutes until the next big disaster happens.)