About three weeks ago, one of our friends (who is a producer at a local news station) called and asked if our kids would be available to test out a product for a segment called "Does It Work?" The family they had originally scheduled to film backed out at the last minute, and they were in a bind. Since the product was geared towards toddlers, she thought of our kids.
The concept was simple. They brought a few examples of the product in question--the Gyro Bowl--to our house and we set the kids loose with them to see if they did what they were advertised to do. The segment aired last Wednesday. Our friend posted it to Facebook, and we reposted it, too. But, just in case somebody missed it, here is the link to KWCH.com. Enjoy.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Presidents' Day Extravaganza
Settle in. This is going to be a LONG post.
Libby had the day off yesterday for the Presidents' Day Holiday. We started the day with a dentist appointment for Gabe (by "we," I mean "Libby")--the second in his three part filling series. This time he needed THREE of them (including the very front one that has been literally falling apart for the past year and a half). He did REMARKABLY well with the procedure (which they finished in less than forty-five minutes--apparently dentists who work with children are FAR more motivated to get things finished and get patients in on time than the ones who work with adults are), and was rewarded with a fake mustache and a few other little gumball machine style prizes.
With my help, Gabe will bring back the Burt Reynolds. I especially like how the presence of the mustache put a crazy look in his eyes.
Libby had the day off yesterday for the Presidents' Day Holiday. We started the day with a dentist appointment for Gabe (by "we," I mean "Libby")--the second in his three part filling series. This time he needed THREE of them (including the very front one that has been literally falling apart for the past year and a half). He did REMARKABLY well with the procedure (which they finished in less than forty-five minutes--apparently dentists who work with children are FAR more motivated to get things finished and get patients in on time than the ones who work with adults are), and was rewarded with a fake mustache and a few other little gumball machine style prizes.
With my help, Gabe will bring back the Burt Reynolds. I especially like how the presence of the mustache put a crazy look in his eyes.The only snag he hit came about thirty minutes after the dentist finished--about the time the laughing gas started to wear off. Gabe kept trying to put his binkie or his chocolate milk sippy cup in his mouth, which invariably resulted in him freaking out. He would cry and say, "My teeth are too big!" This went on for another half hour until the medicine completely wore off. And then he was fine.
As a further reward, Libby took Gabe to the Cosmosphere because he's into space right now.
There's definitely something to be said about our children's exposure to new ideas on television. I remember when we were growing up, we'd go through out "phases" of being interested in things. We had dinosaur phases and bug phases and whale phases and space phases and whatever phases, but they spanned months or years of our childhoods. Thanks to the various educational pre-K stuff that Gabe watches, I think he's already managed to blast through almost all of those phases already before he's reached the age of four. I'm not saying that something GOOD could be said about it, just that SOMETHING could be said of it.
Libby's thinking was that it would be nice to have a special Momma/Gabe day out--and she was right. He had a blast. Sadly, she forgot our camera. She did have her phone, though, and if we can get the pictures transferred from there I'll do a separate posting on how their day went.
While she and Gabe were having their special day, Norah and I were meant to have a special Daddy/Daughter day. Which is a great idea. In theory. The thing is, Norah and I spend all day, every day together as it is, so we've pretty much exhausted our things to talk about. It's not like she's capable of really DOING anything all that special. Plus, it was cold again yesterday so we couldn't even go outside and play. So we pretty much just went about our business as usual.
In the process of doing what we usually do, I checked out the feeds that I follow on Twitter at some point in the morning and noted that many people on there were enjoying a pretty amusing hashtag--#SuperPowersOfThePresidents--in honor of Presidents' Day. Several of the comedians that I follow were joining in and it seemed like good fun, so I hopped on the bandwagon as well.
After awhile, I decided to share the love with my Facebook friends. Then, when I decided that the restrictive character limit of Twitter wasn't suiting my needs, I shifted to only posting on Facebook (you can pretty clearly see where it started as the posts go from being short and concise to long and windy). In between Norah botherings, I spent most of the rest of the day flooding the News Feed on there with what one of my friends affectionately referred to as "spam" in the form of presidential "facts" about their special abilities. I BELIEVE I shared a fact about every president over the course of the day--but it's possible that I missed one or two in the process.
For those who failed to check their Facebook feed yesterday, or for those who want to relive the magic, I've decided to copy/paste all of the status updates that I made through the day. You're welcome.
Note: these are in no particular order. Mostly I was just hitting a president as he popped into my head, but by last night I had to reference a list of all the presidents to jog my memory. Anyway, these all just sort of came forth randomly.
Here goes:
As a further reward, Libby took Gabe to the Cosmosphere because he's into space right now.
There's definitely something to be said about our children's exposure to new ideas on television. I remember when we were growing up, we'd go through out "phases" of being interested in things. We had dinosaur phases and bug phases and whale phases and space phases and whatever phases, but they spanned months or years of our childhoods. Thanks to the various educational pre-K stuff that Gabe watches, I think he's already managed to blast through almost all of those phases already before he's reached the age of four. I'm not saying that something GOOD could be said about it, just that SOMETHING could be said of it.
Libby's thinking was that it would be nice to have a special Momma/Gabe day out--and she was right. He had a blast. Sadly, she forgot our camera. She did have her phone, though, and if we can get the pictures transferred from there I'll do a separate posting on how their day went.
While she and Gabe were having their special day, Norah and I were meant to have a special Daddy/Daughter day. Which is a great idea. In theory. The thing is, Norah and I spend all day, every day together as it is, so we've pretty much exhausted our things to talk about. It's not like she's capable of really DOING anything all that special. Plus, it was cold again yesterday so we couldn't even go outside and play. So we pretty much just went about our business as usual.
In the process of doing what we usually do, I checked out the feeds that I follow on Twitter at some point in the morning and noted that many people on there were enjoying a pretty amusing hashtag--#SuperPowersOfThePresidents--in honor of Presidents' Day. Several of the comedians that I follow were joining in and it seemed like good fun, so I hopped on the bandwagon as well.
After awhile, I decided to share the love with my Facebook friends. Then, when I decided that the restrictive character limit of Twitter wasn't suiting my needs, I shifted to only posting on Facebook (you can pretty clearly see where it started as the posts go from being short and concise to long and windy). In between Norah botherings, I spent most of the rest of the day flooding the News Feed on there with what one of my friends affectionately referred to as "spam" in the form of presidential "facts" about their special abilities. I BELIEVE I shared a fact about every president over the course of the day--but it's possible that I missed one or two in the process.
For those who failed to check their Facebook feed yesterday, or for those who want to relive the magic, I've decided to copy/paste all of the status updates that I made through the day. You're welcome.
Note: these are in no particular order. Mostly I was just hitting a president as he popped into my head, but by last night I had to reference a list of all the presidents to jog my memory. Anyway, these all just sort of came forth randomly.
Here goes:
Realizing the mistake he'd made, he allowed himself to be struck by lightning whereupon he traveled back in time to stop himself from running for president. He made do by spreading STDs through much of France instead.
When the minutes of one of their meetings was leaked, however, it was discovered that the group's REAL name was The Willful Haters of Impertinent Grandmothers. Though many people still supported the group's initiatives, they couldn't ADMIT they did or they would run the risk of being disowned, and the W.H.I.G. party was dissolved shortly afterward.However, since so few people knew or cared about ham radio, this can't be confirmed. The other theory is that Harry Truman had no super human abilities. He DID, however, have The Bomb, and The Bomb is an excellent substitute for superpowers and big penises.
Utilizing science that man now whimsically refer to "steampunk," Depression era scientists attempted to replace the president's skeleton with early generation cybernetics, with undeniably terrible results and the experiment was scrapped after that. But it didn't turn out all bad. FDR's wheelchair could transform into three other forms--a pegasus, a unicorn, and Cary Grant--which makes him one of the awesomest presidents, bar none.
Nonetheless, he COULD transmute base medals like iron into even baser metals like lead, which was a really stupid thing to be able to do and doesn't warrant further mention.
Seriously though, you should look at some pictures of Dolley Madison. She is about as far away from a "Peanuts" character as it's possible to be.
Interestingly, since he was the representative from Atlantis, Aquaman was also this League's "Aquaman."
The side effects of dosing were later spewed all over the Japanese Prime Minister, but few would argue that he didn't have it coming.
Interesting side note: parts of Ike's personality stuck with the orangutan after the surgery, manifesting in slightly more aggressive behavior. He went on to punch his way into cinema history as Clyde in the Clint Eastwood vehicle "Every Which Way But Loose."
Neither theory can be confirmed, but the favor is leaning toward the dragon option because Grant's body is not in his tomb. It is believed that, since dragons are immortal, Grant faked his own death to escape the public eye. But it's also possible that the high octane contents of his stomach spontaneously combusted shortly after he was buried.
In four short years, he was able to accomplish a quite impressive agenda, setting this country up for staggering growth and prosperity for generations to come. But, really, that's not surprising considering he was a member of a superior alien race who could bend reality to their whims and control the minds of man with their formidable telepathy. Everyone knows THAT about him. What nobody can figure out is WHY he went to all that trouble. And that, dear friends, is why I bring all this out in the open today, for I plan to gather a team of former presidents to travel back in time to confront James K. Polk! But more on that later.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Gabe's First Purchase
For a few months now, off and on, we've been trying to introduce Gabe to the concept of money. I tell myself that this is for his benefit as I hope, at an early age, we will be able to teach him to be responsible with an allowance and save it for things that he really wants--taking the first few steps towards teaching him how to temper his consumerism and prioritize his spending in a way that will something something something. Whatever.
But the REAL reason we do it is for our own benefit. First, by teaching him the value of money, we will have an effective method of bribing him to do chores around the house that neither Libby nor I want to do anymore. And, second, we'll be able to stop buying him every little thing he wants because he'll have his own money to spend and he'll have to pick and choose the things that he really wants.
But it's been pretty slow going so far. He grasps the concept of "money buys things," but he is having a difficult time coming to terms with money's value. Just last week, we had a conversation that went something like this.
"I will get some new Legos," he said. This is his typical negotiating open. He states it as undeniable fact and then, from there, he can claim that anything we say is simply an easily dismissed excuse that is standing in the way of that reality.
"Not today, hon," I replied.
"I will get new Legos yesterday," he informed. He's also having a tough time grasping the concept of the passage of time.
"Legos cost money, hon, and we are poor."
"What is poor?" he asked, cutting to the chase.
"It means we don't have a lot of extra money to spend on things we don't need." I followed this with a list of the things we DO need, like our house and electricity and the internet and hookers and blow--the necessities.
"But you have LOTS of moneys," he said.
"What do you mean?"
And he walked over to the big jar of loose change that we have in my office. "See! There are LOTS of moneys in there!"
Which was true. There are lots of moneys in that jar. But most of them are pennies. So, total, there's maybe a hundred bucks or so in there (and, secretly, I'm saving that money to put towards a new gaming console whenever my X-Box craps out or is replaced by a new system). I spent a little time trying to differentiate the various coins in there (glossing over the few dollar coins since, really, they won't be around long enough to worry about) to him and their relative values.
I think part of the problem is that he can't reliably count past 16 right now. Probably it's difficult to comprehend the concept of 100 pennies if it's just some number you can't even picture.
Anyway, Saturday, we tried our hand at bribing him with money. We offered him a quarter to do two separate chores. When he finished them, we gave him $.50 and told him we'd go somewhere that he could spend it. Since there aren't many places $.50 will get you something these days, we went to the thrift store.
Sadly, it being a Saturday, the toy section at the store had been pretty thoroughly picked over. There was nothing left but a few sad bored games and a couple of puzzles--none of them appropriate for a 3 year old.
Nonetheless, he found a puzzle that he became instantly enamored with--a 750 piece landscape puzzle. Despite numerous attempts by both Libby and I, he refused to consider anything else (the closest thing to age appropriate was a 100 piece one for ages 6+, but even that would have been better). But he was insistent that THIS puzzle was what he wanted. We tried to tempt him with some new books and a number of other things, but nothing worked. It had to be this puzzle. And it WAS $.50. So he bought it (we covered the tax because I figured that was a concept for a later day).
We had walked to the store, so we had a bit of time getting home for Gabe to revel in the glory of his purchase and plan for its eventual use. All of these uses involved us putting the puzzle together for him. He refused to believe that such a huge puzzle would take us more than ten minutes or so to put together.
So, when we got home, we opened it up and showed him the puzzle. He was immediately disappointed and couldn't understand what was going on. All he saw was a million tiny little pieces that made no sense to him.
And he was pretty much done with his puzzle from that point on.
Libby did talk him into using some of the pieces to decorate a cardboard box that he's going to use for storing something or other. They used a glue stick and started sticking the pieces to it.
After ten minutes of that, Gabe was pretty much done forever with his first purchase. Based on that level of interest, I would say that I am NOT teaching him responsible consumerism--I appear to be teaching him the worst kind of buy-this-on-a-whim-and-be-done-with-it-in-a-day consumerism. Guess I'm going to have to start buying him anything for awhile and see how that goes.
And here are some pictures of the puzzle and the box project.
Libby says this is still a work in process. I don't buy it. This will sit on our dining room table for a week and then I will throw it in the recycle bin. Mark my words.
But the REAL reason we do it is for our own benefit. First, by teaching him the value of money, we will have an effective method of bribing him to do chores around the house that neither Libby nor I want to do anymore. And, second, we'll be able to stop buying him every little thing he wants because he'll have his own money to spend and he'll have to pick and choose the things that he really wants.
But it's been pretty slow going so far. He grasps the concept of "money buys things," but he is having a difficult time coming to terms with money's value. Just last week, we had a conversation that went something like this.
"I will get some new Legos," he said. This is his typical negotiating open. He states it as undeniable fact and then, from there, he can claim that anything we say is simply an easily dismissed excuse that is standing in the way of that reality.
"Not today, hon," I replied.
"I will get new Legos yesterday," he informed. He's also having a tough time grasping the concept of the passage of time.
"Legos cost money, hon, and we are poor."
"What is poor?" he asked, cutting to the chase.
"It means we don't have a lot of extra money to spend on things we don't need." I followed this with a list of the things we DO need, like our house and electricity and the internet and hookers and blow--the necessities.
"But you have LOTS of moneys," he said.
"What do you mean?"
And he walked over to the big jar of loose change that we have in my office. "See! There are LOTS of moneys in there!"
Which was true. There are lots of moneys in that jar. But most of them are pennies. So, total, there's maybe a hundred bucks or so in there (and, secretly, I'm saving that money to put towards a new gaming console whenever my X-Box craps out or is replaced by a new system). I spent a little time trying to differentiate the various coins in there (glossing over the few dollar coins since, really, they won't be around long enough to worry about) to him and their relative values.
I think part of the problem is that he can't reliably count past 16 right now. Probably it's difficult to comprehend the concept of 100 pennies if it's just some number you can't even picture.
Anyway, Saturday, we tried our hand at bribing him with money. We offered him a quarter to do two separate chores. When he finished them, we gave him $.50 and told him we'd go somewhere that he could spend it. Since there aren't many places $.50 will get you something these days, we went to the thrift store.
Sadly, it being a Saturday, the toy section at the store had been pretty thoroughly picked over. There was nothing left but a few sad bored games and a couple of puzzles--none of them appropriate for a 3 year old.
Nonetheless, he found a puzzle that he became instantly enamored with--a 750 piece landscape puzzle. Despite numerous attempts by both Libby and I, he refused to consider anything else (the closest thing to age appropriate was a 100 piece one for ages 6+, but even that would have been better). But he was insistent that THIS puzzle was what he wanted. We tried to tempt him with some new books and a number of other things, but nothing worked. It had to be this puzzle. And it WAS $.50. So he bought it (we covered the tax because I figured that was a concept for a later day).
We had walked to the store, so we had a bit of time getting home for Gabe to revel in the glory of his purchase and plan for its eventual use. All of these uses involved us putting the puzzle together for him. He refused to believe that such a huge puzzle would take us more than ten minutes or so to put together.
So, when we got home, we opened it up and showed him the puzzle. He was immediately disappointed and couldn't understand what was going on. All he saw was a million tiny little pieces that made no sense to him.
And he was pretty much done with his puzzle from that point on.
Libby did talk him into using some of the pieces to decorate a cardboard box that he's going to use for storing something or other. They used a glue stick and started sticking the pieces to it.
After ten minutes of that, Gabe was pretty much done forever with his first purchase. Based on that level of interest, I would say that I am NOT teaching him responsible consumerism--I appear to be teaching him the worst kind of buy-this-on-a-whim-and-be-done-with-it-in-a-day consumerism. Guess I'm going to have to start buying him anything for awhile and see how that goes.
And here are some pictures of the puzzle and the box project.
Libby says this is still a work in process. I don't buy it. This will sit on our dining room table for a week and then I will throw it in the recycle bin. Mark my words.Friday, February 18, 2011
Daddy No More
Not too long ago, Libby told me a story from her childhood. At the time, I thought it was kind of funny, but didn't really relate.
It was a very short story, really, just sort of a memory she had of something her mom said. Once, when the kids were shouting for her, she replied back "My name is not Mommy anymore!"
At the time she told me this, I think Norah was just learning how to say our names. However, in this last month, she's not only mastered our names, but she's learned that calling them out gets our attention and draws us over to attend to her whims. Since she figured this out, there is no doubt that she has abused the privilege. She will yell for us no matter where she is or what she is doing--even if we're standing right in front of her face at the time.
Her other new favorite is "I'm stuck." Now that she knows what it means, she's "stuck" everywhere. On chairs, on the wrong side of the baby gates, in her crib, on the floor with a small blanket somewhere near her, you name it. "Daddy! I'm stuck!" she'll shriek, just because she can.
Anyway. When it was just Gabe calling for me all the time, I guess it really didn't bother me and I really couldn't relate to the story Libby told me. one child shouting all the time is, I guess, fairly easy to ignore (which I TOTALLY get now--I always wondered growing up how Mom could just "not hear" us when we were in the same room with her trying to get her attention, but now I understand how it's not only possible but necessary for the sake of sanity). Now, with both of them calling out for me, even if I'm standing right next to them and can clearly see what they are already doing, hearing "Daddy" said so many times has prompted me on a couple occasions these past few weeks to think to myself, "My name isn't Daddy anymore!"
I told this to Libby yesterday and I think she didn't have any real sympathy for me. I'm reasonably sure that she thought I was exaggerating, because she said I should count how many times they said it.
An outright count would be pretty impossible. I would need one of those little clicker things gate attendants use to keep track of how many people show up for a sporting event. And I would have to be paying enough attention to hear them say it the first or second time, which often isn't the case.
So I decided to figure out an average instead. I focused my attention for thirty minutes and counted--just an average thirty minutes this morning while average amounts of nothing in particular were going on. Then I figured there were about ten hours a day that they were both up and calling for me. That's a pretty small estimate because it would assume they both slept until 7:00 and then took a three hour nap apiece. That happens maybe one day in twenty, but I wanted to err on the side of caution.
Thirty-seven times! That's how many times "Daddy!" was yelled in thirty minutes. Granted, Norah will shout it continuously when she wants something, so she could rack up ten in thirty seconds, but still. Three hundred seventy times a day would be the total. THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY TIMES A DAY! THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY TIMES A DAY!!! Who wouldn't go crazy? If I punched a wall every minute, it would take me over six hours of punching to equal this number--I could remove the plaster and lathe on one of our walls (because I have fists of steal). If I took a 1/2 ounce drink of soda every mile, I would consume nearly three gallons of liquids while we drove from our house to Amarillo, Texas (which, considering the size of my bladder, would take about a day and a half with the number of stops we'd make). 370 cockroaches could fill and entire shelf in one of our kitchen cabinets! 370 pages of a book would make one of the not stupid Harry Potter novels! 370 marshmallow peeps would have 6660 calories (oooooh, spookyish number) and represent the total caloric intake recommended for a normal male (not me since I have a terrible metabolism) for three and one third days!
You get the picture. It's a lot. And it's driving me bat shit crazy right now. I'm thinking about having them change my name every day to something nonsensical so the value of a "Daddy" doesn't keep plummeting like it is now. But I sort of doubt either of them would grasp the reasoning behind it. Heck, half the time, they both have to call me "Mommy" a couple times before they remember they aren't just saying some random word.
To try and give everyone an idea of what it's like, I asked Gabe to start saying "Daddy" non-stop while I recorded it. I hoped Norah would join in when she heard Gabe saying it, because she often does that. She did, but she only said it twice, so you can't quite get the full effect. But it ought to work pretty well for giving you an idea.
It was a very short story, really, just sort of a memory she had of something her mom said. Once, when the kids were shouting for her, she replied back "My name is not Mommy anymore!"
At the time she told me this, I think Norah was just learning how to say our names. However, in this last month, she's not only mastered our names, but she's learned that calling them out gets our attention and draws us over to attend to her whims. Since she figured this out, there is no doubt that she has abused the privilege. She will yell for us no matter where she is or what she is doing--even if we're standing right in front of her face at the time.
Her other new favorite is "I'm stuck." Now that she knows what it means, she's "stuck" everywhere. On chairs, on the wrong side of the baby gates, in her crib, on the floor with a small blanket somewhere near her, you name it. "Daddy! I'm stuck!" she'll shriek, just because she can.
Anyway. When it was just Gabe calling for me all the time, I guess it really didn't bother me and I really couldn't relate to the story Libby told me. one child shouting all the time is, I guess, fairly easy to ignore (which I TOTALLY get now--I always wondered growing up how Mom could just "not hear" us when we were in the same room with her trying to get her attention, but now I understand how it's not only possible but necessary for the sake of sanity). Now, with both of them calling out for me, even if I'm standing right next to them and can clearly see what they are already doing, hearing "Daddy" said so many times has prompted me on a couple occasions these past few weeks to think to myself, "My name isn't Daddy anymore!"
I told this to Libby yesterday and I think she didn't have any real sympathy for me. I'm reasonably sure that she thought I was exaggerating, because she said I should count how many times they said it.
An outright count would be pretty impossible. I would need one of those little clicker things gate attendants use to keep track of how many people show up for a sporting event. And I would have to be paying enough attention to hear them say it the first or second time, which often isn't the case.
So I decided to figure out an average instead. I focused my attention for thirty minutes and counted--just an average thirty minutes this morning while average amounts of nothing in particular were going on. Then I figured there were about ten hours a day that they were both up and calling for me. That's a pretty small estimate because it would assume they both slept until 7:00 and then took a three hour nap apiece. That happens maybe one day in twenty, but I wanted to err on the side of caution.
Thirty-seven times! That's how many times "Daddy!" was yelled in thirty minutes. Granted, Norah will shout it continuously when she wants something, so she could rack up ten in thirty seconds, but still. Three hundred seventy times a day would be the total. THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY TIMES A DAY! THREE HUNDRED SEVENTY TIMES A DAY!!! Who wouldn't go crazy? If I punched a wall every minute, it would take me over six hours of punching to equal this number--I could remove the plaster and lathe on one of our walls (because I have fists of steal). If I took a 1/2 ounce drink of soda every mile, I would consume nearly three gallons of liquids while we drove from our house to Amarillo, Texas (which, considering the size of my bladder, would take about a day and a half with the number of stops we'd make). 370 cockroaches could fill and entire shelf in one of our kitchen cabinets! 370 pages of a book would make one of the not stupid Harry Potter novels! 370 marshmallow peeps would have 6660 calories (oooooh, spookyish number) and represent the total caloric intake recommended for a normal male (not me since I have a terrible metabolism) for three and one third days!
You get the picture. It's a lot. And it's driving me bat shit crazy right now. I'm thinking about having them change my name every day to something nonsensical so the value of a "Daddy" doesn't keep plummeting like it is now. But I sort of doubt either of them would grasp the reasoning behind it. Heck, half the time, they both have to call me "Mommy" a couple times before they remember they aren't just saying some random word.
To try and give everyone an idea of what it's like, I asked Gabe to start saying "Daddy" non-stop while I recorded it. I hoped Norah would join in when she heard Gabe saying it, because she often does that. She did, but she only said it twice, so you can't quite get the full effect. But it ought to work pretty well for giving you an idea.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Book
So, I finished the first draft of the stay-at-home dad/compilation of the posts on this site book yesterday. I know I mentioned this a few months back and I had a few volunteers for proofreading/editing, but it took me a couple months longer than I thought it would to get it finished up and thought I would just ask again fresh, in case people got busy or were just otherwise not interested.
The copy should be relatively clean, but I would still appreciate if people could keep an eye out for typos/grammar errors/awkward spots that I missed on my own rewrites. Mostly, though, I'd like people to read it to see if it works the way I have it roughly laid out right now (Libby has some ideas on that, but hasn't had any time to look it over yet) and to let me know if there are sections that just don't work. I have some suspicions about a couple. Obviously, I'd like to keep it as long as possible (it's about 74,000 words now), but I want to keep it moving quickly and really only want the most entertaining stuff. I'm not sure how long it SHOULD be, but I'm thinking anything less than 50K words would be bad (60K would be ideal).
Anyway, let me know if you're interested and, if I have your email address, I can send out the word document. Thanks! You're all peaches. Unless you don't want to read it for me. In which case, if you don't have a good excuse, you're a dick.
The copy should be relatively clean, but I would still appreciate if people could keep an eye out for typos/grammar errors/awkward spots that I missed on my own rewrites. Mostly, though, I'd like people to read it to see if it works the way I have it roughly laid out right now (Libby has some ideas on that, but hasn't had any time to look it over yet) and to let me know if there are sections that just don't work. I have some suspicions about a couple. Obviously, I'd like to keep it as long as possible (it's about 74,000 words now), but I want to keep it moving quickly and really only want the most entertaining stuff. I'm not sure how long it SHOULD be, but I'm thinking anything less than 50K words would be bad (60K would be ideal).
Anyway, let me know if you're interested and, if I have your email address, I can send out the word document. Thanks! You're all peaches. Unless you don't want to read it for me. In which case, if you don't have a good excuse, you're a dick.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Kissing Practice
For the past few weeks, Norah has been a bit obsessed with kissing. Pretty regularly, if we're sitting on the floor or she's up on our lap, she'll turn to us and start leaning in, signifying it's time for a slobbery smacker. She usually wants a hug, too.
This, I have to assume, is a normal part of the development process. Gabe went through a similar phase. The difference is that Gabe's started about six months ago and is still sort of going on ("Can I have a hug and a kiss, Daddy?" he will ask, usually after he's done something to raise my ire). Gabe still hasn't figured kissing out. With his freshly wettened lips held loosely together, he leans in and presses them against us--sometimes on our lips, sometimes our noses, sometimes our chins, he doesn't really care where he lands it). He doesn't pucker his lips, he doesn't make the traditional smacking noise, he just presses his mouth parts against something and calls it good. Cute, but slobbery and kind of gross. Hopefully he will get his technique worked out before high school or he's not going to be very popular in the dating community.
Norah, on the other hand, might be TOO popular considering how quickly she's catching on. Worryingly popular.
Last night, she was sitting on Libby's lap and she wanted a kiss. Libby puckered up and Norah opened her mouth and leaned in. She proceeded to envelope Libby's mouth with her own, creating a seal--kind of like she was giving mouth to mouth. Funny as hell from my perspective, but clearly unsettling and a little gross for Libby.
"You try it," Libby said.
"K. But get the camera," I replied. So Libby did. Then Norah started kissing me while Libby got the camera. By the time Libby got back with it and started recording, Norah had actually more or less figured out how to kiss normally, puckering her lips a little and adding the smacking noise. With about two minutes of practice, she came closer to mastering the technique than Gabe has managed in the past six months!
I've said it before and I'll say it again, she's going to need some monitoring once she hits puberty.
Here's the video. It's not nearly as entertaining as it would have been if she'd kept doing the mouth-to-mouth method, but it's still kind of cute. Especially the part where I'm in it.
Actually, after watching it again, I realized that she DID give Libby an open-mouthed one the first time. So enjoy that.
This, I have to assume, is a normal part of the development process. Gabe went through a similar phase. The difference is that Gabe's started about six months ago and is still sort of going on ("Can I have a hug and a kiss, Daddy?" he will ask, usually after he's done something to raise my ire). Gabe still hasn't figured kissing out. With his freshly wettened lips held loosely together, he leans in and presses them against us--sometimes on our lips, sometimes our noses, sometimes our chins, he doesn't really care where he lands it). He doesn't pucker his lips, he doesn't make the traditional smacking noise, he just presses his mouth parts against something and calls it good. Cute, but slobbery and kind of gross. Hopefully he will get his technique worked out before high school or he's not going to be very popular in the dating community.
Norah, on the other hand, might be TOO popular considering how quickly she's catching on. Worryingly popular.
Last night, she was sitting on Libby's lap and she wanted a kiss. Libby puckered up and Norah opened her mouth and leaned in. She proceeded to envelope Libby's mouth with her own, creating a seal--kind of like she was giving mouth to mouth. Funny as hell from my perspective, but clearly unsettling and a little gross for Libby.
"You try it," Libby said.
"K. But get the camera," I replied. So Libby did. Then Norah started kissing me while Libby got the camera. By the time Libby got back with it and started recording, Norah had actually more or less figured out how to kiss normally, puckering her lips a little and adding the smacking noise. With about two minutes of practice, she came closer to mastering the technique than Gabe has managed in the past six months!
I've said it before and I'll say it again, she's going to need some monitoring once she hits puberty.
Here's the video. It's not nearly as entertaining as it would have been if she'd kept doing the mouth-to-mouth method, but it's still kind of cute. Especially the part where I'm in it.
Actually, after watching it again, I realized that she DID give Libby an open-mouthed one the first time. So enjoy that.
Monday, February 14, 2011
The Last Snow Day
Yesterday, while I worked on dinner, Libby took the kids out to play in the snow. It was about 60 degrees yesterday, and is supposed to be right around that all this week. Already, the massive snow dump we received last Tuesday has dwindled to a few inches of icy crunchiness, and it should be completely gone--except in shaded areas--by the end of today. So we decided if the kids were going to get a chance to get out in it and do some hardcore playing, it was now or never. We bundled them both up and took them out. Libby snapped some pictures while they went at it.
OK, so these first pictures of Gabe were taken Thursday and not yesterday. Sue me. It was still cold as ass out there Thursday, thus the bundling up. Here, Gabe--without any prompting--decided to be useful and scrape off the sidewalk by the garage. This is not a stretch of sidewalk that we would ever use, but, you know, whatever.
This picture was taken after Gabe purposely face-planted into the snow. For some reason, he still thinks that's a good idea--maybe because snow LOOKS soft, like pillow stuffing. I'm guessing he'll finally learn differently eventually.
He spent a lot of time lying down in the stuff.
Here he slid down the pile on the side like he was sledding.
OK. This was from yesterday. You can tell because the snow is already half melted and the kids aren't all bundled up. I guess maybe that path Gabe scraped on Thursday wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Cheese. Yeah, these pictures are cute, but not terribly entertaining otherwise. I DO have a good picture to share in a bit, though, so bear with me.
Norah did quite well outside. I think we're FINALLY getting to the point where she can handle herself well enough outside that we can start having regular playtime outside again.
She looks so forlorn. Seriously, I think this kid is going to be a trouble all her own as she gets older. Gabe will be a "getting in trouble" kid, but I see Norah and I butting heads on a very regular basis for the next 16 years or so.
The best part is when he hits the tree and is surprised at how it springs up without the snow on it.
Not a lot going on in this one, but it was on the memory card, and who am I to decide what is and isn't worth sharing?
This was supposed to be a video of Norah doing an Incredible Hulk impersonation. She was roaring and pulling at her PJs like she was ripping them off. Then, of course, she stopped doing the PJ thing once I got the camera. But she kept roaring, and that was kind of entertaining.
OK, so these first pictures of Gabe were taken Thursday and not yesterday. Sue me. It was still cold as ass out there Thursday, thus the bundling up. Here, Gabe--without any prompting--decided to be useful and scrape off the sidewalk by the garage. This is not a stretch of sidewalk that we would ever use, but, you know, whatever.
This picture was taken after Gabe purposely face-planted into the snow. For some reason, he still thinks that's a good idea--maybe because snow LOOKS soft, like pillow stuffing. I'm guessing he'll finally learn differently eventually.
He spent a lot of time lying down in the stuff.
Here he slid down the pile on the side like he was sledding.
OK. This was from yesterday. You can tell because the snow is already half melted and the kids aren't all bundled up. I guess maybe that path Gabe scraped on Thursday wasn't such a bad idea after all.
Cheese. Yeah, these pictures are cute, but not terribly entertaining otherwise. I DO have a good picture to share in a bit, though, so bear with me.
Norah did quite well outside. I think we're FINALLY getting to the point where she can handle herself well enough outside that we can start having regular playtime outside again.
She looks so forlorn. Seriously, I think this kid is going to be a trouble all her own as she gets older. Gabe will be a "getting in trouble" kid, but I see Norah and I butting heads on a very regular basis for the next 16 years or so.The best part is when he hits the tree and is surprised at how it springs up without the snow on it.
Not a lot going on in this one, but it was on the memory card, and who am I to decide what is and isn't worth sharing?
Now I have a few more entertaining pictures and another video to share that really don't pertain to anything except the overall weirdness of my kids.
Last night, Norah decided to wear a pair of Gabe's underwear like a hat. Unlike Gabe, Norah rather enjoys wearing hats (Gabe has ALWAYS pulled them off--it wasn't until this winter that we were even able to keep a stocking cap on him when we're outside playing).
Not to be outdone, Gabe decided to decorate himself, too. He's wearing a headlamp and a gold medal around his neck. He insisted that I take a picture of him, too.
Last night, Norah decided to wear a pair of Gabe's underwear like a hat. Unlike Gabe, Norah rather enjoys wearing hats (Gabe has ALWAYS pulled them off--it wasn't until this winter that we were even able to keep a stocking cap on him when we're outside playing).
Not to be outdone, Gabe decided to decorate himself, too. He's wearing a headlamp and a gold medal around his neck. He insisted that I take a picture of him, too.This was supposed to be a video of Norah doing an Incredible Hulk impersonation. She was roaring and pulling at her PJs like she was ripping them off. Then, of course, she stopped doing the PJ thing once I got the camera. But she kept roaring, and that was kind of entertaining.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Lovers
Thanks to the weather, we've had three snow days. I'll try to get some of the pictures and video of the snow adventure up later (or next week, or sometime).
Before that, though, I wanted to share something that we got from one of Gabe's preschool teachers. His school and his teachers are awesome. We feel really lucky to have gotten Gabe in there this year. A week or so ago, they sent home a list of the students' names for the sake of Valentine's Day cards (I guess, I don't know why else we would need to know their names). But before I even knew the list was in there, the kids had gotten a hold of it and marked it up enough that we couldn't make out several of the names. Libby emailed Ms. Kristen to ask for another list, which was sent home in Gabe's backpack yesterday. Last night, she replied to Libby's email to let her know the list was in there, but she added an extra story that I thought was worth sharing. Here's the copy of the email:
I have no idea where he's getting the notion of "lovers" from. Another one of those things kids pick up from who knows where. I'm pretty sure that's not a topic that's discussed in Bubble Guppies. I just liked his introduction to the table of girls. It will be interesting to see how this kid gets on with the ladies in later years.
Before that, though, I wanted to share something that we got from one of Gabe's preschool teachers. His school and his teachers are awesome. We feel really lucky to have gotten Gabe in there this year. A week or so ago, they sent home a list of the students' names for the sake of Valentine's Day cards (I guess, I don't know why else we would need to know their names). But before I even knew the list was in there, the kids had gotten a hold of it and marked it up enough that we couldn't make out several of the names. Libby emailed Ms. Kristen to ask for another list, which was sent home in Gabe's backpack yesterday. Last night, she replied to Libby's email to let her know the list was in there, but she added an extra story that I thought was worth sharing. Here's the copy of the email:
sent one home in gabe's backpack.
i can email too if norah gets to it.
: )
p.s. BEST story of the day:
g: i have two lovers
me/rob: (thinking and smiling)...really? who are they?
g: my mother and my father
me: oh, you said MOTHERS (totally made sense to me then)
g: no, i don't have 2 lovers, i have three lovers!
me: (smile and wide eyes realizing he did say lovers)...oh, yeah?
g: mommy, daddy and norah are my lovers.
gabe went over to the project table full of girls and said:
hi, my name is gabe and i have three lovers.
they responded with raised eyebrows and BIG smiles.
i've never had a better image of lovers than now.
he's so great.
I have no idea where he's getting the notion of "lovers" from. Another one of those things kids pick up from who knows where. I'm pretty sure that's not a topic that's discussed in Bubble Guppies. I just liked his introduction to the table of girls. It will be interesting to see how this kid gets on with the ladies in later years.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Norah Begins to Pull Her Weight
The title of this post could, almost, be taken literally. She can very nearly pull her own weight to the places that she wants to go. Actually, I've noticed that she seems a bit behind "getting around" as compared to Gabe at that age--and I've been attributing it to the fact that she has about five or six pounds on where Gabe was at the same time. It's only been in the last week or two that she's begun to pull herself up onto the dining room chairs and the chairs/couch in the living room (more on this in a bit). Gabe was doing this by eighteen months, maybe even earlier than that.
But that's not really what I want to talk about.
No, what I want to discuss is the fact that now, FINALLY, Norah is starting to provide me with a pretty steady supply of blog fodder. If you look back through the archive, it won't take you long to notice that, until recently, Norah has received very few posts that were actually entertaining. I mean, sure, there is a minimum amount of entertainment value to be gained from looking at pictures of a cute child, and I've always maintained a brave face--in the form of abject snarkiness--about her development and suchlike. But there haven't been as many pictures or videos of her doing something that was, in and of itself, pretty funny.
I'm sure this comes as a relief to Gabe, too, as he will now have a lessened burden to shoulder. I mean, that IS a lot of pressure to put on a three year old. He's been carrying this blog for two years now. I'm not sure how he keeps coming up with new material all the time--for almost 300 posts now.
Good grief. 300 posts. Well, at least neither of them will be able to claim that their early years weren't well-documented. They probably won't LIKE how it was documented, but that's neither here nor there. The basic information is all there, even if I am mostly a dick about all of it. I'm going to write that off as an opportunity for them to get to know me better as a person, too. Yeah. That sounds well justified.
Anyway. Norah.
I've got a picture and a video that we've taken over the past few days of her doing rather amusing things that I thought I'd share.
As I said before, she's starting to master climbing into the chairs. The recliner is the easy one because she can climb up the arm using the recliner handle on the side. Here, however, she's lost interest in finishing up the procedure. Instead, after she cleared the armrest, she just rolled over and started watching TV again. She stayed like this for five or ten minutes, and has done it several times, suggesting either that this is a comfortable way for her to watch TV, or she's too lazy too bother with using the energy it would take to get all the way into the chair. At this point, I'd say either is as likely as the other.
This was something she did last night and it kept her busy for about ten minutes. The video should be pretty self-explanatory.
But that's not really what I want to talk about.
No, what I want to discuss is the fact that now, FINALLY, Norah is starting to provide me with a pretty steady supply of blog fodder. If you look back through the archive, it won't take you long to notice that, until recently, Norah has received very few posts that were actually entertaining. I mean, sure, there is a minimum amount of entertainment value to be gained from looking at pictures of a cute child, and I've always maintained a brave face--in the form of abject snarkiness--about her development and suchlike. But there haven't been as many pictures or videos of her doing something that was, in and of itself, pretty funny.
I'm sure this comes as a relief to Gabe, too, as he will now have a lessened burden to shoulder. I mean, that IS a lot of pressure to put on a three year old. He's been carrying this blog for two years now. I'm not sure how he keeps coming up with new material all the time--for almost 300 posts now.
Good grief. 300 posts. Well, at least neither of them will be able to claim that their early years weren't well-documented. They probably won't LIKE how it was documented, but that's neither here nor there. The basic information is all there, even if I am mostly a dick about all of it. I'm going to write that off as an opportunity for them to get to know me better as a person, too. Yeah. That sounds well justified.
Anyway. Norah.
I've got a picture and a video that we've taken over the past few days of her doing rather amusing things that I thought I'd share.
As I said before, she's starting to master climbing into the chairs. The recliner is the easy one because she can climb up the arm using the recliner handle on the side. Here, however, she's lost interest in finishing up the procedure. Instead, after she cleared the armrest, she just rolled over and started watching TV again. She stayed like this for five or ten minutes, and has done it several times, suggesting either that this is a comfortable way for her to watch TV, or she's too lazy too bother with using the energy it would take to get all the way into the chair. At this point, I'd say either is as likely as the other.This was something she did last night and it kept her busy for about ten minutes. The video should be pretty self-explanatory.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Interpretive Dance
Originally, this was going to be a post about the things "good" parents who don't let their children watch much television miss out on (and, in fact, I will still go over this later), but something happened last night that was more interesting.
Earlier in the week, some friends loaned us a drum and some other musical instruments--I say "loaned," even if they thought it was "gave," because we really don't need any more noisy toys in the house than we already have--and the kids have been enjoying them. Last night, right before bed time (which tends to be when Gabe is at his most high strung and, thus, most entertaining), Gabe decided to put on a show. As usual, we missed the best part while we got the camera, but we were SORT OF able to get him to recreate what he was doing. We took three different videos, and all of them have something to offer, but the first two are the best as Gabe used his own body to play his shaking instruments against.
A pretty good piece of video--though I need to break him of the habit of performing for a few seconds then wanting to immediately see it on the camera. It tends to disrupt the flow of things.
This one had the best bit where he hits himself on the head with the rattles. I like how it took a little bit for him to realize that it hurt.
I meant to make a Mary Poppins/one man band reference while we were recording, but I hesitated, not sure if I was actually remembering Dick Van Dyke doing that in Mary Poppins or if that was just part of some weird dream I'd had. Not that I am prone to dreaming about Dick Van Dyke. I mean, I DO dream about him. Not in a weird way. Except dreaming about Dick Van Dyke being a one man band is a pretty weird way to dream about him, if I'm dreaming about him at all.
Usually, when I say "Muno," she will continue with all of the Gabba characters in the order that they appear in the intro song. This time she needed extra encouragement, though. And you might have to turn up the volume a little bit to hear her say some of the names. She kept turning away from the camera and the mic on our camera isn't very good.
Earlier in the week, some friends loaned us a drum and some other musical instruments--I say "loaned," even if they thought it was "gave," because we really don't need any more noisy toys in the house than we already have--and the kids have been enjoying them. Last night, right before bed time (which tends to be when Gabe is at his most high strung and, thus, most entertaining), Gabe decided to put on a show. As usual, we missed the best part while we got the camera, but we were SORT OF able to get him to recreate what he was doing. We took three different videos, and all of them have something to offer, but the first two are the best as Gabe used his own body to play his shaking instruments against.
A pretty good piece of video--though I need to break him of the habit of performing for a few seconds then wanting to immediately see it on the camera. It tends to disrupt the flow of things.
This one had the best bit where he hits himself on the head with the rattles. I like how it took a little bit for him to realize that it hurt.
I meant to make a Mary Poppins/one man band reference while we were recording, but I hesitated, not sure if I was actually remembering Dick Van Dyke doing that in Mary Poppins or if that was just part of some weird dream I'd had. Not that I am prone to dreaming about Dick Van Dyke. I mean, I DO dream about him. Not in a weird way. Except dreaming about Dick Van Dyke being a one man band is a pretty weird way to dream about him, if I'm dreaming about him at all.
Now, onto the other thing.
We are bad parents. I, especially, am a bad parent. Before we had kids we swore that we wouldn't let the TV be our babysitter. We would raise our own kids and they would be creative and brilliant and learn to entertain themselves and all that jazz--and perhaps they would even grow to love jazz, though that would have been something that I discouraged since most jazz is kind of awful (no offense to anyone who likes jazz--I just don't get you, or your music).
But then reality set in. Did you know that, without television, it becomes your personal responsibility to entertain your child for EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS? I did not know that initially. It never even crossed my mind. In addition to this fact, you also WILL NOT BE ABLE TO WATCH TV YOURSELF FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS LEST YOU SET A BAD EXAMPLE FOR YOUR CHILD. That fact also never dawned on me.
And I loves me some TV.
So, clearly, this was doomed to fail from the outset.
But, then, Gabe ended up not really caring that much about the television. We might keep it on in the background, but he didn't really pay attention to it. He had more important things to do and parts of the dining room to be in. So, in a way, nature saved me the embarrassment of admitting that I was a failure. Which was awfully nice of her.
Then came Norah.
Norah is, I'm sad to say, a bit of a TV junkie. She will watch it with rapt attention, sitting through entire programs at times and giving it her full focus (probably the reason why Gabe has been able to take or leave it--generally he is only able to focus on not being focused). What's more, she is a bit of a TV savant. She has a weird, almost uncanny, ability to remember character names from shows that she has only seen bits and pieces of--and some that I swear she's never seen at all. And not just main characters, either. Every once in awhile she'll spout off the name of a character in a show and it will take me awhile to actually figure out who she's talking about.
Take Spongebob, for instance. Now, for the most part, we've restricted Gabe from watching "big kid" cartoons when Norah is in the room. Once in awhile we might watch a Phineas and Ferb or something on Nick, but not very often. Probably we have watched Spongebob around her a few times, but, as a rule, when big kid cartoons are on, she doesn't pay attention to them. If there aren't any bright colors or songs or characters speaking at a nice, slow, measured pace that's easy for small children to understand, she moves on to something else.
So I was surprised when, out of the blue, she pointed to a product in a store and said "BubBob!" And, sure enough, there was Spongebob. Now, being able to recognize Spongebob without having seen the show is probably not a stretch. He's everywhere. But, the other day, she was looking at the box of Spongebob fruit snacks we have (yeah, I know, I'm a failure AND I buy products with the characters on them--there is NO hope for me at this point) and she said "Cabs!" and pointed at Mr. Crabs. I have no idea how she picked up that name having not really watched the show that much, but she did.
And she's done it several times, too. She knows the name of Dan's little brother in Dino Dan. She picked out Diego's name (I think she actually has a bit of a crush on Diego, she LOVES him and always points him out when she sees him) by watching DORA--not Go Diego Go, because that show is terrible and I don't let the kids watch it if I can avoid it. She calls him Gogowah. Not sure why, unless it's some sort of a reference to the name of the show, which, again, I can't explain since I don't think she's seen the show more than maybe twice--and both of those times I bet she didn't see more than five minutes of before I caught it and put something else on.
See? Savant. Or "gifted" perhaps.
BUT, there is one thing that good parents who don't let their kids veg in front of the TV (and I say that, but, before everyone gets the wrong idea, she doesn't sit in front of the TV all day--she might LOOK like that's all she does, but she doesn't, I swear) will miss out on: the adorable cuteness of a small child saying character names. My favorite one of hers is Dino Dan. It is so cute you almost want to hug the words themselves. And having her say that name almost makes it OK for that awful, awful show to exist.
Here, watch this.
We are bad parents. I, especially, am a bad parent. Before we had kids we swore that we wouldn't let the TV be our babysitter. We would raise our own kids and they would be creative and brilliant and learn to entertain themselves and all that jazz--and perhaps they would even grow to love jazz, though that would have been something that I discouraged since most jazz is kind of awful (no offense to anyone who likes jazz--I just don't get you, or your music).
But then reality set in. Did you know that, without television, it becomes your personal responsibility to entertain your child for EVERY WAKING MOMENT OF EVERY SINGLE DAY FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS? I did not know that initially. It never even crossed my mind. In addition to this fact, you also WILL NOT BE ABLE TO WATCH TV YOURSELF FOR YEARS AND YEARS AND YEARS LEST YOU SET A BAD EXAMPLE FOR YOUR CHILD. That fact also never dawned on me.
And I loves me some TV.
So, clearly, this was doomed to fail from the outset.
But, then, Gabe ended up not really caring that much about the television. We might keep it on in the background, but he didn't really pay attention to it. He had more important things to do and parts of the dining room to be in. So, in a way, nature saved me the embarrassment of admitting that I was a failure. Which was awfully nice of her.
Then came Norah.
Norah is, I'm sad to say, a bit of a TV junkie. She will watch it with rapt attention, sitting through entire programs at times and giving it her full focus (probably the reason why Gabe has been able to take or leave it--generally he is only able to focus on not being focused). What's more, she is a bit of a TV savant. She has a weird, almost uncanny, ability to remember character names from shows that she has only seen bits and pieces of--and some that I swear she's never seen at all. And not just main characters, either. Every once in awhile she'll spout off the name of a character in a show and it will take me awhile to actually figure out who she's talking about.
Take Spongebob, for instance. Now, for the most part, we've restricted Gabe from watching "big kid" cartoons when Norah is in the room. Once in awhile we might watch a Phineas and Ferb or something on Nick, but not very often. Probably we have watched Spongebob around her a few times, but, as a rule, when big kid cartoons are on, she doesn't pay attention to them. If there aren't any bright colors or songs or characters speaking at a nice, slow, measured pace that's easy for small children to understand, she moves on to something else.
So I was surprised when, out of the blue, she pointed to a product in a store and said "BubBob!" And, sure enough, there was Spongebob. Now, being able to recognize Spongebob without having seen the show is probably not a stretch. He's everywhere. But, the other day, she was looking at the box of Spongebob fruit snacks we have (yeah, I know, I'm a failure AND I buy products with the characters on them--there is NO hope for me at this point) and she said "Cabs!" and pointed at Mr. Crabs. I have no idea how she picked up that name having not really watched the show that much, but she did.
And she's done it several times, too. She knows the name of Dan's little brother in Dino Dan. She picked out Diego's name (I think she actually has a bit of a crush on Diego, she LOVES him and always points him out when she sees him) by watching DORA--not Go Diego Go, because that show is terrible and I don't let the kids watch it if I can avoid it. She calls him Gogowah. Not sure why, unless it's some sort of a reference to the name of the show, which, again, I can't explain since I don't think she's seen the show more than maybe twice--and both of those times I bet she didn't see more than five minutes of before I caught it and put something else on.
See? Savant. Or "gifted" perhaps.
BUT, there is one thing that good parents who don't let their kids veg in front of the TV (and I say that, but, before everyone gets the wrong idea, she doesn't sit in front of the TV all day--she might LOOK like that's all she does, but she doesn't, I swear) will miss out on: the adorable cuteness of a small child saying character names. My favorite one of hers is Dino Dan. It is so cute you almost want to hug the words themselves. And having her say that name almost makes it OK for that awful, awful show to exist.
Here, watch this.
Usually, when I say "Muno," she will continue with all of the Gabba characters in the order that they appear in the intro song. This time she needed extra encouragement, though. And you might have to turn up the volume a little bit to hear her say some of the names. She kept turning away from the camera and the mic on our camera isn't very good.
I don't think there can be any denying that that was cute. Is it a fair trade off for branding an intrinsically unhealthy appreciation for the boob tube onto my child's brain? . . .Yes. Yes it is. Or at least that's what I'm going to keep telling myself until the time when both of the kids are old enough to entertain themselves and I don't need the TV to get a bit of peace and quiet in my house. Whatever I need to tell myself to get through the day, right? Right.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Snow Days
For a few days leading up to the early part of this week, many in the media were heralding the arrival of Big Snow to a significant portion of the midwest. Ridiculous names for the weather event were bastardized and used (actually, they started using these a year or two ago, and now they have become the standard references for anything more than six inches of snow, but this was the first time I'd ever heard anyone using these terms to talk about snow that WE would be getting--usually they were talking about weather they were receiving in the northeast). Snowpocalypse, Snowmageddon, and The Snowpture (OK, I made that last one up, and I can understand now why nobody has combine "snow" and "rapture" up to this point) were bandied about like official meteorological terminology.
And we DID get snow. But probably only about six inches of it. Hardly worthy of a reference to the end of times, I think.
In addition to the snow, though, we got sub-zero temperatures and wind gusts up to 50 mph--which, I think, was significantly worse than the snow itself. In preparation for the weather, we moved a bunch of stuff from out of the yard and put it under our back porch--cushions and toys and other what-nots and such-likes. Because of the wind, though, we would have been better off leaving the stuff in the middle of our back patio.
Under our back porch. Clearly, if we ever had an ACTUAL Snowmageddon with the kinds of winds we had yesterday, we would be unable to get out of our back door. The wind just whipped the snow around the back of our house and straight into the porch area, which was shielded from the wind, and dumped it all over our stuff. You can't see the door from here, but several times during the day we had to empty out the area between our screen door and the back door--snow kept blowing in the screen and piling up to six or seven inches in there.
Our back patio. See the bald spot there? That's where we should have stored everything, apparently. The big pile of snow there is what accumulated as we shoveled off the concrete immediately outside our back door throughout the day. Had we not kept up on it, it's very likely that we wouldn't have been able to open our back door.
And we DID get snow. But probably only about six inches of it. Hardly worthy of a reference to the end of times, I think.
In addition to the snow, though, we got sub-zero temperatures and wind gusts up to 50 mph--which, I think, was significantly worse than the snow itself. In preparation for the weather, we moved a bunch of stuff from out of the yard and put it under our back porch--cushions and toys and other what-nots and such-likes. Because of the wind, though, we would have been better off leaving the stuff in the middle of our back patio.
Under our back porch. Clearly, if we ever had an ACTUAL Snowmageddon with the kinds of winds we had yesterday, we would be unable to get out of our back door. The wind just whipped the snow around the back of our house and straight into the porch area, which was shielded from the wind, and dumped it all over our stuff. You can't see the door from here, but several times during the day we had to empty out the area between our screen door and the back door--snow kept blowing in the screen and piling up to six or seven inches in there.
Our back patio. See the bald spot there? That's where we should have stored everything, apparently. The big pile of snow there is what accumulated as we shoveled off the concrete immediately outside our back door throughout the day. Had we not kept up on it, it's very likely that we wouldn't have been able to open our back door.Anyway, because of the weather, school was canceled yesterday--and again today, in fact, mostly because the wind chills were around -25 this morning. Which meant Gabe had his SECOND snow day of the year! Pretty special considering he only goes to school two days a week and our district is notorious for NOT canceling school no matter how bad the weather is.
I remember snow days. They were awesome. An unexpected day off in the middle of the week that didn't require making fake throwing up noises while dumping a glass of water into a toilet in order to stay home sick (as I'm sure I've mentioned before, I faked sick A LOT throughout my school career, so having a day off wasn't such a big deal, but having a day off that I didn't run the risk of getting in trouble for faking sick was pretty fantastic as it meant I could run around the house and do whatever I wanted instead of having to stay in bed reading comic books).
The glory of the snow day continued on into adulthood for me, too, as I began to teach shortly after I finished grad school. Not only did it mean that I didn't have to teach that day, but I was effectively being PAID to not teach that day! Even better than just getting to run around the house!
But, now that I am not a student, nor am I teaching, snow days have lost some of their luster. Don't get me wrong. I still like getting enough snow or ice or other winter weather to strand us in our house. Being a bit of a homebody, I always appreciate when the weather FORCES me to stay inside because it means I don't have to feel guilty about not going out. And not feeling guilty about one's own shortcomings/flaws is a pretty fantastic feeling--possibly akin to not having to go to school.
Still, there's just a little bit of something missing. Maybe it's just having the kids and knowing that we're stuck in the house with them for a day or two without the OPTION of being able to get out somewhere. Or perhaps I'm just getting older and jaded and the simple pleasures aren't enough for me anymore. Either way, we spent very little of yesterday just enjoying our time stuck in the house, and that's a shame.
The weirdest thing about this weather pattern (well, it SHOULD be weird, but since this is Kansas we're talking about, this is actually pretty normal and happens a couple times every winter) was the weather that bookended (or will bookend, I suppose) it. Last weekend, it was nearly 70 degrees. We had some friends over who generously helped us cut down a couple of our nasty elm trees (and Libby got a little video of Gabe not riding his motorcycle that I'll put at the end here). Then sub-zero temperatures and a subpar Snowpocalypse. And by this weekend it's supposed to be in the upper 50s again. Basically, within about forty-eight hours, our temperature varied by more than 70 degrees (not counting the wind chill). That shouldn't be normal. And, being a winter person, it doesn't seem fair. We don't have that kind of range in temperatures during the summer. It's not 105 one day and then 40 the next. Why should we have to suffer through seemingly eternal heat during the summer but not get eternal cold during the winter? Our weather is dumb.
Anyway, here's the video of Gabe. It's not really relevant to anything, but his description of what's wrong with his motorcycle at the beginning is pretty amusing.
I remember snow days. They were awesome. An unexpected day off in the middle of the week that didn't require making fake throwing up noises while dumping a glass of water into a toilet in order to stay home sick (as I'm sure I've mentioned before, I faked sick A LOT throughout my school career, so having a day off wasn't such a big deal, but having a day off that I didn't run the risk of getting in trouble for faking sick was pretty fantastic as it meant I could run around the house and do whatever I wanted instead of having to stay in bed reading comic books).
The glory of the snow day continued on into adulthood for me, too, as I began to teach shortly after I finished grad school. Not only did it mean that I didn't have to teach that day, but I was effectively being PAID to not teach that day! Even better than just getting to run around the house!
But, now that I am not a student, nor am I teaching, snow days have lost some of their luster. Don't get me wrong. I still like getting enough snow or ice or other winter weather to strand us in our house. Being a bit of a homebody, I always appreciate when the weather FORCES me to stay inside because it means I don't have to feel guilty about not going out. And not feeling guilty about one's own shortcomings/flaws is a pretty fantastic feeling--possibly akin to not having to go to school.
Still, there's just a little bit of something missing. Maybe it's just having the kids and knowing that we're stuck in the house with them for a day or two without the OPTION of being able to get out somewhere. Or perhaps I'm just getting older and jaded and the simple pleasures aren't enough for me anymore. Either way, we spent very little of yesterday just enjoying our time stuck in the house, and that's a shame.
The weirdest thing about this weather pattern (well, it SHOULD be weird, but since this is Kansas we're talking about, this is actually pretty normal and happens a couple times every winter) was the weather that bookended (or will bookend, I suppose) it. Last weekend, it was nearly 70 degrees. We had some friends over who generously helped us cut down a couple of our nasty elm trees (and Libby got a little video of Gabe not riding his motorcycle that I'll put at the end here). Then sub-zero temperatures and a subpar Snowpocalypse. And by this weekend it's supposed to be in the upper 50s again. Basically, within about forty-eight hours, our temperature varied by more than 70 degrees (not counting the wind chill). That shouldn't be normal. And, being a winter person, it doesn't seem fair. We don't have that kind of range in temperatures during the summer. It's not 105 one day and then 40 the next. Why should we have to suffer through seemingly eternal heat during the summer but not get eternal cold during the winter? Our weather is dumb.
Anyway, here's the video of Gabe. It's not really relevant to anything, but his description of what's wrong with his motorcycle at the beginning is pretty amusing.
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