A Year in the Life

I was writing down my newest funny from the kids and realized it's been a while since I shared some. 

Last January, Ellie emphatically resented the Pack n' Play and its caging of her free spirit. Her brother, a snuggler through and through, offered sharing of his toddler-sized bed. The result is tons and tons of pictures like this:










Note: we actually do have two beds. Heck, we actually have THREE beds for them. Clearly if we ever need more space they're going up on Craigslist.

Kekoa (after playing together): "Thank you for your time, Ellie."

Me: "Kekoa, did you try your onion yet?"
Kekoa: "Did you just say Aaron? That's soooo silly! Yes, I ate the Aaron. I'm eating Uncle Aaron!"
Me: "Okay, goofball. Did you try the turkey?"
Kekoa: "No, but I did try the Peter."


Kekoa is a dashing four. Ever since his rabid obsession with clocks at eighteen months old, he has been prone to falling deeply in love with some concept or item and then that obsession becomes his identity. After the clocks were star flags. After the star flags were robots. And this year (besides the eternal undying love for vehicles) is...lobsters.



An enabling Mimi allowed him to live out his dreams of becoming a lobster. It was supposed to be for Halloween, but a sly lobster has been seen slinking around on any day of the week.

Kekoa: "Daddy, do you know things?"
Josh: "What things?"
Kekoa: "All the things."
Josh: "No, I don't know all the things."
Kekoa: "But I do."


Kekoa: "Mom, did you know I'm not actually a boy? I'm a fellow."

LEGOs are our other obsession right now. 



After resisting heavily getting Ellie a "baby house" as she calls them because of her (alleged) carelessness with her toys, Josh built her a LEGO baby house so as to prove this carelessness.

It turned out to be quite a fruitful endeavor, because not only is the house intact a month later, but two Ewoks, a Wookie, four Jedi, one astronaut, and a guy have been potty trained in that baby house. Not a single LEGO accident around here.

Yes, that is Chewy on the potty and Ewok I  in the bathtub

Josh was a little flabbergasted that in 20ish years of his LEGO-building experience, he had never once made a LEGO potty, sink, or bathtub. But I am pleased to report that not a single occupant of this (very crowded) baby house has forgotten to wash his hands.

Josh: "Ellie, do you have to go potty?"
Ellie: "No."
Kekoa: "Ellie, do you know why it's important to go potty?"
Ellie: "Why?"
Kekoa: "Because if you don't go potty, then you will get cavities in your brain."

Kekoa: "I don't like bathrooms."
Josh: "Why don't you like bathrooms?"
Kekoa: "Because they're unkind to me."


We also enjoyed family visits this year, and a fun cruise with both sets of grandparents. Kekoa's favorite part of family visits is when the visitor is here for breakfast. Ellie's favorite part is when she is adored. Both of them love being told bedtime stories, especially when Piglet and emergency vehicles figure prominently in the stories.

Kekoa: "Daddy, you and I have a relationship."
Josh: "Yes. And what is our relationship?"
Kekoa: "You are my Dad and I am your son."
Josh: "That's right."
Kekoa: "Mommy and Ellie have a relationship too. Theirs is a pirate ship with a flag."

Kekoa discovered Oobleck this year (in the years of his foolish youth he had deemed it too messy to touch). Mommy discovered that Oobleck is a great outdoor activity.

Ellie discovered the great joys of birthday breakfast-in-bed this year when she turned two. Mommy discovered that two-year-old breakfast-in-bed is a great outdoor activity. 

Kekoa: "Hey Daddy, do you know what takes food to your tummy? It's your asparagus."

Kekoa: "You know Mommy, I'm going to find a new land where it's okay to eat oatmeal every day. And I shall be the king."

 Ellie, having proclaimed loudly her love for all things fluffy, soft, twirly, and cozy, was delighted when one of her great-grandmothers send a very snuggly bathrobe. We also competed ferociously this year for the world record of "most tutus worn at one time."



We're not really needed around here for the parenting. Kekoa takes care of most of that for us.

Ellie: *wails*
Kekoa: "Oh Ellie, what's wrong?"
Ellie: *wails*
Kekoa: "Oh, are you feeling frustrated?"
Ellie: "uh-huh"
Kekoa: "Oh, because you want a puppy?"
Ellie: "uh-huh"
Kekoa: "But I'm sorry Ellie, you don't have enough money for a puppy. But save your money and you can buy a puppy. Does that sound fair?"
Ellie: "Yeah. Puppy!"

Josh (watching Ellie eat): "Man, I love Ellie. We should keep her forever."

Kekoa: "No, we can't keep her."

Josh: "Why not?"

Kekoa: "Because she eats too fast."

Me: "Can I keep you?"

Kekoa: "Only for a little longer. Then you have to take me back to the library so other people can get a turn."

Kekoa is showing glimmers of being a productive member of society. This year he gained the ability to make money, and in return took over cleaning the bathtubs, cleaning the toilets, wiping down the table, wiping the kitchen counter tops, collecting the trash, and unloading the silverware from the dishwasher.

We were watching the Daniel Tiger potty episode while Ellie sat on the potty.

Kekoa: "After this, can we watch another episode?"

Me: "If you want to watch something you have to finish your chores."

Kekoa: "But I don't do chores. I'm a watchin' man!"

Kekoa asked to watch something, but it was almost dinner time so I said no. About five minutes later:

Kekoa: "Mom, I have a really good idea. If you turn on an episode, we can have something really special for dinner. Sound like a deal?"

Me: "What would we have for dinner?"

Kekoa: "Chicken nuggets!"

I still said no (tempting as it was), but about five minutes later:

Kekoa: "Here's another deal for you: if we watch something now, then while we eat we can watch a movie."

Clearly he's got this win-win negotiating down to a science.

We carved our first jack-o-lantern this year, designed by Kekoa. The children were about as interested in the process as they appear in the picture.



I'm excited for this next year. Ellie has buckets to say, but we only catch about half of it. But considering how entertaining one verbal kid is, next year will be even more fun!

Three overfriendly ducks approach us.

Kekoa: "I think they're deciding who to eat first."

K on Sunday: "Dad, can we go to Chick-fil-A?"
Josh: "Nope, it's closed today."
K: "Yeah, Dad. That's why you have to try the door."

Kekoa: "Mom, I'm juicy."
Me: "You're juicy? Do you mean you're thirsty?"
Kekoa: "If I say I'm thirsty then you'll give me some water. But I want juice, so I'm juicy."

Not a Baby

Ellie turns 2 today. That makes her officially not a baby, which suits her just fine. After all, no one can be a baby who goes by the name "mommy" to so many of her own babies. She's the busiest little mommy you can imagine - always changing diapers, rocking to sleep, feeding, dressing, taking on walks.  The work never stops, really.

 She has a large and growing brood, though she is prone to playing favorites. I sometimes wonder if her other children ever get jealous of her obvious preference for Piglet.

Unfortunately for Piglet, being a stuffed animal of the Velveteen Rabbit variety means very many baths are necessary. And not even by my own decree - any time I throw in a load of laundry, Ellie comes running to add Piglet to the "baf."

Fortunately for Piglet, he has a very faithful, very watchful mommy who will -- no joke -- observe his bath for the entire washer cycle. Woe to me if Piglet somehow ends up invisible at the bottom of the washer.

It is a testament to her brother's great love for her that he often keeps her company as they oversee. Gotta make sure Piglet doesn't become too agitated (see what I did there? I crack myself up.)

Taking pictures of the bath guard has become the new sleeping-kid-pictures: I know I have a million pictures already, but I can't resist taking one more.

"You exaggerate," you say. "A million photos is just a matter of hyberbole."

 And perhaps it is an exaggeration.

But not much of one.

When I'm not using the laundry as a free mother's helper, I'm using the bathtub. I have discovered that if I put Ellie in the bathtub with a sponge, she will be perfectly content to scrub it down for at least 20 minutes.

"Gee," you say, "Ellie's life sounds ever so hard and difficult. Caring for babies, doing laundry, and cleaning bathtubs - is that poor girl being worked to the bone? What does she do for fun?"

I'm glad you asked. Apart from her [dubiously helpful] household contributions, Ellie spends most of her spare time perfecting her own personal style.

Whether it's 20 shades of pink...

...construction worker Ellie..

...or a look I like to call "winter hat and coat on a 90-degree day"...

 ...Ellie puts great care into choosing her outfits. And she isn't afraid to put a little variety into her wardrobe, either. You never know whether you will get Fairy Princess Fireman Ellie, or Dr. Ballerina Ellie, or Queen Hawaiian Superhero Ellie. Whatever she chooses, you can bet she has strong opinions on it.

It does make a handy parenting hack, though. When you need to get Ellie's attention, just say "tutu" to the empty room and watch her materialize out of nowhere.

Me (trying to get Ellie's attention): "Ellie? *no answer* Eliana? *no answer* Elbie. *no answer* Elzers." *no answer*

Me: "Monkey?"

Ellie: *turns around*

Me: "Really? That's the name you respond to?"

Ellie: "hoo hoo ha ha"

Josh: "Oh, I just love you. I say we keep you, whaddaya say?"

Ellie: "Thank you"

Curious George Turns 4

I have never liked the children's book Curious George. The monkey is naughty. He never means to be naughty, but he doesn't think. The monkey usually ends up being rewarded for being naughty.

I never liked it. I still don't like it.

But I empathize with the man in the yellow hat now. I AM the man in the yellow hat now.

And Curious George is turning four.

Curious Kekoa is a fine sort of fellow. He is thoughtful, fun-loving, and a very big helper. Kekoa is also an excellent big brother. The other night Ellie was crying, and I found him in her bed beside her, gently stroking her hair. He looked up at us and said, "She's pretty adorable, huh?"

Ellie asked to sleep in the toddler bed, and her kind-hearted brother offered to switch beds with her. So yes, this is an almost-four-year-old, willingly sleeping in a Pack n' Play for over two months. He had to sleep either in fetal position or in x-position so his feet could go into either corner.

Sometimes being a "good" big brother crosses the line into "overbearing" big brother though....

[Scene] Josh and I are in the living room, and we hear Ellie start to cry a little. She can be a little dramatic, so we give them a chance to work it out themselves. She's not calming down, though. We go into the bathroom, and find Ellie and Piglet in the bathtub, fully clothed, with an entire bottle of shampoo dumped on their little heads.  Kekoa is using a cup to bathe her. "Look! Ellie's hair was yucky so I'm giving her a bath!"

 [Before you judge Kekoa too harshly, Ellie was a willing subject. He cannot put her in the bathtub, so she had to have climbed in herself. But let's just say baths given by three-year-olds are not her favorite.]

[/end scene]

Kekoa is also our master builder. Legos and Duplos are his tools of choice (he'll take Legos any day, but Mom has stepped on Legos one too many times so there are strict rules governing their use). The picture below shows a forklift and a crane carrying a big pipe (with a rabbit driver, obvs). He can find any use for Duplos.

But sometimes he can find one too many uses for the Duplos...

[Scene] when the children are allowed to come out of their rooms at 7:00am, I notice that Ellie smells a bit...overripe. But when I change her diaper, a smeary Duplo comes out. 

"Why is there a Duplo in Ellie's diaper?" I ask.

"Well, Ellie was uncomfortable because she was dirty, so I used the Duplo to scoop it out. And then it got stuck."

"Why didn't you just get me?"

"Because we weren't allowed to come out unless I have to go potty, and I didn't have to go potty!"

The Duplo ended up in the trash. 

[/end scene]

He has always loved baking, but recently he has started helping with the cooking, too. The other night he prepared (with help on the chopping and heat portions) and served up a meal of carrots, sauteed spinach, and salmon. The spinach in particular he prepared without an ounce of help, only verbal directions and a watchful eye near the stove.

If Kekoa serves you, be prepared for large portions

His desire to be helpful is wonderful. But occasionally  he's a little too helpful....

[Scene] late afternoon, and the children are suspiciously quiet. I'm enjoying the productivity, and the thought crosses my mind: "I'm so glad the kids are keeping each other occupied so I can get some work done!" But I dutifully check on them.

The door is closed, and Kekoa runs to meet me as I open it. He's not wearing pants. "Where are your pants? I ask. 

"My pants? Why would you ask about my pants?" Uh-oh. That's not a good answer.

"What are you doing?"

"We're doing all the laundry!"

Wow, what helpful children. But uh...where could two children who can't reach the washing machine do the laundry?

And the laundry they did indeed. Every stitch of clothing from the dresser, all the bedding, every stuffed animal. All hung lovingly to dry all over the furniture. The children are nothing if not thorough. 

[/end scene] (that wasn't really the end of the scene, but it was the end of the internet's view of the scene).

Kekoa is going to make a great husband someday. He's practicing already, you know. This week he was having a hard day, so I asked him if he needed some time to himself to regroup. He agreed, and half an hour later I walked into our room to find him doing some light reading:

The title is Date Your Wife. It's never too early to start preparing, I guess. He will be a very dutiful husband.

But sometimes you can be too dutiful....

[Scene] I am loading the dishwasher, and the phone rings. I answer the phone in the other room. While I am talking, I wander back into the kitchen to find Kekoa and Ellie drizzling dish soap into the dishwasher soap dispenser, closing up the door, and starting the dishwasher.

Fortunately, I am in time to stop the madness before bubbles start cascading everywhere, and Kekoa helps me wipe out all the dish soap that spilled in the bottom of the dishwasher.

[/end scene]

There you have it. He's Curious George. He's the only kid I know whose biggest messes come from trying to clean up. The intentions are honorable. The execution is...poor.  And did I mention these were all from the last two months?

The good news is that he's learning. He now knows how to clean poop off of Duplos (and also when to give up and just throw them away). He knows which detergent goes into the dishwasher. He knows to never, ever give his sister a bath. He even knows how to fill the washer, measure out the soap, and get (three consecutive) loads of laundry started. Someday, just maybe, our curious little monkey will be a responsible adult. 

But the better news is that we love him, and we get to keep him. And not only do we get to see the responsible man he will be someday, but we get to see the process that takes him there. Some days it's a funny process. Some days it makes me want to rip my hair out (or at least rip the toilet-water drenched carpet up). And some days the carpet-ripping days turn into funny days, in retrospect.

Happy birthday, sweetheart.

A Wintertime Past

It's no longer winter. Hooray! But my mother reminded me the other day that my picture-posting friend may become her new favorite daughter, because otherwise she never gets to see pictures of her grandchildren. Which reminded me that I've had this post sitting in my drafts for about five months.

This winter we learned the old parenting truth: half of parenting is gazing at your children thinking, "The most beautiful creatures in the entire world live in my house. How did I get so lucky?" and the other half of parenting is sputtering, "why why WHY would you think that was a good idea?"

This winter was nice because there have been lots of playing together (also less nice because lots of fighting opportunities). Tooooons of dress-up. Usually along the lines of "people who ride in loud and cool vehicles":

Ellie....or Justin Bieber?? The world may never know.

But even more often as Mommy and Daddy:

The construction worker goggles were deemed too difficult/painful...

So they were generously offered to an unsuspecting victim:

I won't bore you with the details like how deeply the elastic strap cut into my brain.

Even when they're not dressed up, these two can usually be found side-by-side, whether that's eating....

...or as astronauts flying in rocket ships... 

K: "Is today Friday?"

Me: "No, today is Saturday."

K: "Oh goody! I love Saturday! It means tomorrow we can go to outer space!"

...or the Hundred Acre Wood...

....or in boats (not pictured: Josh collapsed from exhaustion from succumbing to the endless chorus of "push me, Daddy!")

They delight me. Separately, but most of all together.

Ellie has graced us with her presence for a year and a half now. She insists that she only needs one nap a day, but by mid-morning most days gets a little glassy-eyed:

The only thing that keeps her awake is anticipation of her favorite thing: lunch. But once lunch is finished, she can't wait a second longer:

ok yes, it's lunch and she's in her PJs. It was winter, y'all. PJs are a legit outfit.

 Her favorite foods are beans and rice and yogurt and meat and fruit and potatoes and sandwiches and soup and pasta and squash and broccoli and... well, okay. Pretty much all the foods. Except, oddly enough, hot dogs and toast.

She's constantly trying out new words, to Brother's delight. And gee, she has a lot to say. A lot. She is well-acquainted with all kinds of trucks, but also loves diapering, feeding, kissing, and tucking in her babies.

Kekoa continues to be my confirmed introvert.
K: "Where are we going now, Mommy?"
Me: "We're going home."
K: "We're going home? OH BOY!"

He's an excellent big brother, but he's still human: "I really love my sister. But it's really hard to share. I just want to have it ALL."

Uncle Aaron: "See you later, buddy! Do me a favor and take care of your little sister, okay?"
Kekoa: "Hmmmm. I'll see what I can do."

Now that it's spring, the paints and dress-up clothes and train tracks are getting a little break, in favor of sidewalk chalk and ladybugs. Maybe by October I'll post pictures of the spring. Or maybe not.

P.S. Don't try to count how many of the pictures involve my children in their pajamas. Just don't.