It snowed

Rather, we got an entire winter's worth of snow in the space of 36 hours.

A lovely gift left by the snowplow after we had dug out Sven. 

Kekoa went forth valiantly with his shovel, and experienced all the magical-ness of childhood, before shoveling and going to work become a concern.

He helped us shovel, digging around the sides of the car where the big shovel couldn't reach. And he was light enough that he acted as his own snowshoes: here he is standing on top of three feet of snow, but he didn't sink down. He felt like the king of the world.

He pretended the snow was sugar, and baked all sorts of delights with it.

He was also a big fan of sled rides. He had a great time in general, except for when he had to go inside, at which point he would start wailing, "I'm FROZEN, I'm FROZEN!"

Ellie, on the other hand.

Yeah, not so much. 

That's how she spent most of the time while Kekoa was playing and we were shoveling. Between all the growling and hibernating, she made a pretty passable imitation of a bear. Apparently winter is not her thing.



We also had lots of inside time, where we drank "special tea," played lots of "find-the-bear-hibernating-in-the-cave," and watched The Snowman at least four times in two days. They were enchanted, and Kekoa walks around continually singing, "I'm walking in the air."

Selfie with the bear!

Ellie also developed the distressing habit of saying "Cheese" when her picture is taken. It's not that she says "cheese"....it's the face she makes every time.

It's going to be a couple of years before I get a good picture of her again. Ah well. I can always fall back on the pictures of her sleeping,

Just Like Daddy

Daddy's birthday is this week, so this post is in honor of what he means in our house... (okay really it's an excuse to dump pictures and quotations, but just humor me, ok?)

Kekoa wants to be just like Daddy. He knows that his name is the same as Daddy's, even if he goes by a different nickname, and he doesn't want to miss out on either.  It's very confusing when he goes around introducing himself: "Hi, I'm Kekoa. Hi, I'm Josh."

Josh was pumping gas the other day and when he got back in the car, Kekoa piped up: "You worked wery wery hard, Daddy. I'm so proud of you."

Josh loves to bake, and Kekoa has picked up on that. I keep a designated drawer empty to be the "oven," and I've eaten many a loaf of pretend banana bread.

They love to bake together. One day, we were serving banana bread to some of our friends.
"I made that," Kekoa said proudly to our guest.
"Oooh, what did you put in it?"
"Baking powder...and salt...and sugar....and baking powder...and lots and lots of salt...and soda. And cinnamon!"
"Wow, that's a lot of baking powder and salt."
"Yep. I loooooove baking powder!"

Our guest was gracious enough to try it anyway. :)

Josh also enjoys miniatures. After a couple years of Kekoa begging to try painting, we got the idea to give him some cheap army men and Daddy's old paints. He feels that his work is *extremely* important. Furrowed brow important, in fact.

Anything Josh says is bound to be repeated. If I tickle Kekoa, he says, "All right all right, you got me, you got me."  If I drop anything or might be hurt, "Are you okay, my love?" And, "Oh yes, indeed. You are correct."

One day Josh and Kekoa were baking scones and Ellie tried to pull down the parchment paper lining the baking sheet. Kekoa squatted down to her eye level and said very seriously in a tone he knows all too well, "Look at me. LOOK at me. We do NOT touch the paper."

Meanwhile, while Josh has Kekoa hanging on to his every word, Ellie has Daddy wrapped around her finger. How do I know? Well, one hint is that when I upload pictures to the computer, there are all kinds of random shots I don't remember taking:

Not pictured: that very same slimy chewed-up apple in its secret hiding place, aka my dresser drawer.

While Kekoa *wants* to be like Josh, Ellie *is* like Josh. While Ellie naps, introverted Kekoa and I enjoy the quiet. But if Ellie wakes up first, she spends the entirety of her time banging on the door trying to wake brother up to play.

Kekoa, after some banging woke him up: "I had a good nap. I woke up and I said, 'Who's that at the door?' and I said, 'I don't know, who IS that?' And then I said, 'Maybe it's Mommy. But maybe it's Ellie.' And now I'm saying, 'Oh yeah, it WAS Ellie'."

And then there's the attitude toward mess. MY child walked into the playroom the other day, burst into tears, and walked straight back out. "I can't play in here! It's too messy!" He's also the one who came to me, quite proud, and said, "Mommy, I made a huge mess!" I came out expecting to find flour all over or something, but then I had to take a picture of the "huge mess":

But don't worry, don't hate me yet. At that very moment, Josh's child was making herself comfortable:

The blur in the middle is OCD Man, racing in to save the day

So I suppose the moral of the story is if you marry someone with a dissimilar personality...be prepared to raise their little mini-mes. 

Happy birthday, Josh. Thanks for balancing our kids out (but oh hey, can you take the extrovert out for a while? K and I need some alone time).

1 + 3 = crazy

We managed to pack a lot of life in the last couple months. Kekoa turned 3, Ellie turned 1, I turned an unspoken number (but let's just say my frontal lobe is beyond fully matured and is now into the degeneration side of things...), we packed, we painted, we moved, we unpacked, we survived. We had visits from three of the four grandparents (we miss you, Papa!).

In any case. It's been stressful and glorious and exhausting. We've been sore and bewildered and exhilarated. And darn it, now I don't have an excuse to keep putting off those dentist visits.

But for the highlights. Kekoa's birthday was a small affair, being only four days before we were to close on our new home and on the tail end of a stomach bug. But Kekoa's reactions to gifts are immensely gratifying. He's usually so thrilled to have a present that he's practically fawning all over your feet before he even opens it. But then once he does open it: "WHOA, check it out! CHECK IT OUT! I LOVE [insert gift here]!"

He was quite pleased this particular birthday because he made a killing in trucks. He also recently graduated to solo teeth brushing, and finds me at all hours of the day asking if he can brush. The doctor was quite pleased with him because he rocketed from the 0.17 growth percentile into the 2nd percentile this year. That's our big bruiser for you!

Why yes, these pjs HAVE fit him 3 summers in a row.

Ellie didn't even get a cake for her birthday. "What? No smash cake?" My mom asked. But with this girl, *every* day is a mess worthy of a smash cake.

Daddy had mercy and baked some banana bread

Only Ellie can pork down a whole avocado, fifteen grape tomatoes, and half a chicken thigh, then cry when we run out food as if she hasn't eaten in weeks; Everyone talks about the teenage boys, but honestly, I'm not sure we're going to survive our toddler girl.

She really is a delightful little human, though a bit dramatic. Not given her way, she will flop facedown on the floor and sob helplessly as if the world is coming to an end. She's an expert beggar and has been known to swindle whole bananas from soft-hearted Nanas.

Somehow I ended up with a girly girl, because she coos in delight when she sees her pretty dresses and hairbows and gasps excitedly when we pass dolls in the store. She loves anything soft and cuddly, and brother obliges by throwing an entire zoo of stuffed animals into her bed every night.

Ellie scored PURPLE dresses for her birthday.

"Da-da" is her favorite person/word, but she's also figured out that "I la la" ("I love you") is an excellent method of attention-getting - which happens to be an art she excels in, snuggling comfortably into your shoulder before you put her down for an unwanted nap.

After being a lifelong vehement proponent of the toilet paper going over, I've converted to an under (temporarily, I'm sure!) because she loves to unroll it, and when it's over it unrolls straight into the toilet (yes, I know - keep the bathroom door closed. uh-huh. you tell the 3-year-old that).

She and "buh-der" continue to delight me with their friendship, strewn with fights and make-up kisses. They both love to wrestle (usually Ellie's instigation), and looking at a picture of Ellie the other day Kekoa proclaimed, "Oh, sooo beautiful!" He takes good care of his "sweet baby," and she in turns humors him by giggling wildly when he gives her zerbets.  The other day Kekoa was eating a snack when Ellie woke up from her nap, and she went straight for the mooching. "Great job saying 'more,' Ellie. You asked so nicely. Yes, you may have a blueberry!"

Kekoa: "Josiah lives in Hi-de-ho!" [Idaho]
Me: "Yes, and where do Mimi and Pops live?"
Kekoa: "Caluhfornee-uh!"
Me: "What about Nana and Papa?"
Kekoa: "Ha'aye'e!"
Me: "And where does Uncle Steve live?"
Kekoa: "Uncle Steve lives in the army!"

Kekoa: "What time is it?"
Me: "I don't know, what does the clock say?"
Kekoa: "The clock says tick-tock!"

Me: "Can you tell Nana what to do if you get lost?"
Kekoa: "But I don't want to tell Nana to get lost!"

Me: "Do you want to hold my hand?"
Kekoa: "No thank you. I'm too big now."   :( :( :(

Ten Months

You guys. Ellie hit a HUGE milestone this month. I mean, huge. Been waiting for it since the day she was born. Well, since the day we found out she was a girl, really.

BOOM.

Hair clip! Enough hair for a hair clip! A friend was watching the kids one morning and when I picked them up, Ellie had a little clip in her hair. She showed me how to put it in so that it STAYED ALL DAY.

Of course, Ellie fails to appreciate the occasion and prefers to eat her hair clips. Whatever. 

We also pulled out the walker, but she's not very good at turning yet, so the walls are in constant danger. It's rather a high maintenance toy at the minute.

I'm enjoying the heat if only because sundresses! Baby! Baby in sundresses! Have I mentioned I love having a girl?

Because Ellie is so very small for her age, our visits at the doctor usually include a conversation like this:

Doctor: "And you really should start giving her solid food."
Me: "Oh, she is on solid food."
Doctor: "But you should give her more solid food. Even if she refuses a food, you should find something else for her to try."
Me: "But she doesn't refuse food."
Doctor: "Then you should give her more food."
Me: "You don't understand. I can't give her more food. I let her eat until there's literally No More Food."
Doctor: "Oh. Well maybe add another snack."

Josh and I are engaged in a secret (well, until now) competition to find a food that she won't eat. We've had some pretty serious competitors--including spicy curry, salsa, and sriracha--but none of them have survived the Hunger Games: Baby Edition.  At this point, there is a high probability that she lacks taste buds altogether, because if Josh and I don't like something, we just scrape it into her bowl. The closest she's gotten to refusing a food was finishing her first bowl of split pea soup and not immediately demanding a second bowl (but she happily ate leftovers the next day).

All that food seems to be working, though. Remember this picture? Taken last August.

Nine months later....

Ah, time. You are a cruel master.

She's a daredevil who loves to sit on the big girl swing all by herself, who loves to climb then slithers down HEADFIRST, and who took her first solo step just a couple days ago. She's a total squirmy wormy who prefers to be held upside down, sideways, or thrown over a shoulder.

 And then there's Kekoa. Kekoa-the-crazy. Kekoa-who-is-almost-three-and-don't-you-forget-it.

After Memorial Day picnic - that's a little boy's face if I ever saw one

Kekoa who suddenly appeared to develop a rather morbid fear of death. Kekoa who used to love naps and bedtime, then suddenly started resisting by saying, "But I don't want to go to bed! I could DIE!"

It took a while to figure out, but one of his picture Bibles has the story of the little girl who dies and then Jesus raises her from the dead. Which, apparently to a toddler mind, means that if you lie down on your bed, you will probably die. Whatever that even means to a toddler.

In the meantime, most of our other conversations center around food.

Kekoa: "I'm hungry."

Me: "Okay, I have some soup for you."

Kekoa: "No thank you. I'm a different hungry."
***

Me: "Are you a copycat?"

Kekoa: "No, I'm not a copycat!"
Me: "What are you then?"
Kekoa: "I'm hungry!"

***

Me: "Okay, the toilet is clean enough now. But if you're very calm and patient tomorrow, I'll let you clean the toilets again tomorrow."

Kekoa: "Hurray! Thank you so, so much! See ya tomanow, toilet!"

***

Genius strikes on a fine spring day

Kekoa spontaneously bursts into tears.

Me: "Why are you crying?"

Kekoa (in between hiccup sobs): "Because my neck is clean!"

***

Me: "Did you know that I love you?"

Kekoa: "Yep!"

Me: "Do you know who else I love?"

Kekoa: "Wonder Woman!"

***

He also got two temporary tattoos, an octopus and a whale, who proceeded to have a conversation.

"Hi Optotus"
"Hi Whale."
"Are you getting tired?"
"Yeah, I'm a little tired. Are you getting tired?"
"No, I'm not tired."
"Okay. See ya later."
"Okay."

It reminds me of my brother's infamous knock-knock joke at 3 years old, that one that was so lame that it was hilarious. "Knock knock. Who's there? Pig. Pig who? Goodbye pig."

Sometimes his conversations between toys are a little more passive-aggressive and typically follow a particular failing of mine (like refusing a dessert request at 8am):

"Hi Mater. Can I have a special dessert?"
"Yes, you can have a special dessert! Want to share some jello?"
"Oh yes! Thank you Mater! I love you! You're my favorite!"

"Hi red train."
"Hi blue train."
"Can I watch Cars?"
"Yes, blue train! You can watch Cars TWO TIMES!"
"Oh, thank you red train! Thank you so, so much!"

Ellie climbed up onto Kekoa's bed. Kekoa was thrilled to have a bedmate, so he laid next to her, they giggled together a little bit, and then they both went to sleep (which was an extra nap. No complaints here!). These are the days that make all the toy-sharing, eye-poking, and clean-neck drama worth it.

Longer Out Than In

Ellie is nine months today. This is completely preposterous. Not because she's nine months, but because Kekoa was been two for basically forever and in the meantime Ellie has managed to go from a five pound blob that faintly resembled a naked mole rat to an actual tiny human.

I'm not kidding about the resemblance...

Tiny human!

How to sum up the last month or so? Well, the doctor put it best when she looked into Ellie's mouth: "OHMYGOSH that's a lot of teeth coming in....I am SO sorry."

Teething aside, she is feisty and crazy and loves people and loves moving and most, most, most of all loves eating. Well, unless eating involves pre-blended travel packs of chia seed supergreens. Which, let's face it, shows fairly good judgment on her part.

I thought that her increasing mobility would make her happier, but noooooo. Now she just wants us to help her walk around all the time. She has zero fear and I have to watch her constantly because she will just crawl off the edge of the bed, fling herself out of your arms, stick her head in the toilet, etc.

Her manual dexterity is improving, mostly due to an enormous amount of nose-picking practice. She gives high fives and is fascinated by whatever toy her brother is playing with. Her brother, on the other hand, has perfected the art of offering her his least favorite toy in an attempt to distract. She is not to be fooled.

The sibling relationship is an ever-entertaining roller coaster of emotion. We watched Uncle Andy's robotics team win their division at the World Championship, placing them among the top 8 alliances in the world (!). And my kids did a happy dance together, laughing and giggling (the robotics team uniform is orange shirt with turquoise skinny jeans. I don't usually dress my kids this way):

They adore sharing a room - neither of them will go to bed without the other (hmmm...is this because they're friends, or are they just trying to drag the other down with them?). Ellie's usually up from her nap first, and she loves going in to get brother. When we walk up to the door she gets a big smile on her face and starts lunging for him.

But both the cute and ugly moments are just that - moments. The other day I found them watching a video together, with their arms around each other and cheeks pressed up together.

But then I got out the camera and they both turned to look, which destroyed equilibrium. Cute sibling moment becomes a less cute wrestling match.

And while this is primarily about Ellie...well, what's life without a few Kekoa snapshots? He keeps us laughing, that one.

One night when we were going to bed, we saw this. "Kekoa, go to bed," Josh ordered, but the hands didn't move. So I nudged them...and they didn't move. He fell asleep that way. I couldn't decide whether it was funny or creepy.

 Trying to put away state puzzle pieces, one state won't fit in the container:
Kekoa: "It's not working! Texas is TOO strong!"

Singing to himself a deeply philosophical song of his own composition pondering the inconvenience of love:
"I like cuddling, I like cuddling
I like snuggling Pooh Bear and fire truck blank[et]
I like hugs and kisses
But I'm very hot....I'm very hot....I'm very hot."

On the way out the door with Josh:

Kekoa to me: " I love you, my love!"

Don't Blink

We recently spent almost 3 weeks in California with my family, first for a family wedding and then for a robotics tournament that my youngest brother participated in (his team did awesome - easily the best individual robot there, his team won the most prestigious award, and their three-team alliance came in second. I'm kinda proud).

But during those two weeks, little Miss Ellie decided to grow up. She had been crawling for about a month, but not far or fast. And then in the space of two weeks, she was crawling everywhere, pulling herself up, getting back down, waving hello, cutting a third tooth -- and in the week since, a fourth -- and saying "Ellie" (which she pronounces the way her brother does - "eh-yah") and "hi." It was funny to come home and realize that we were not at all babyproofed - I had moved breakables and tearables and chokables off the bottom shelves, but suddenly the second shelves, end tables, and night stands were in danger too! If I go insane, it's because of the great love of Duplos that my children share. Or rather, one's great love of building that seems to directly contradict the other's love for destruction. And the fact that Ellie can now reach every surface Kekoa can, so nothing is safe.



We determined she was an extrovert. Kekoa used to save all his big milestones for right after a trip, when he was relaxing at home. She was totally energized by our crazy schedule full of crowds and socializing.

This, of course, means that I have an introvert who freaks out if we're out too much and an extrovert who freaks out if we're in too much. But whatever. Fortunately both our kids are similar to one of their parents - Josh and Ellie will be the social ambassadors and Kekoa and I will be the homebodies. It's all good.

We also pulled out the rest of my old baby clothes. Miss Ellie now has so many sweet summer dresses, I need it to be summer STAT. And speaking of me as a baby....

Ellie at 8 months

Me at 8 months - look like anyone you know?

Kekoa had a grand old time with his cousin on my side of the family - the two boys got along splendidly and were adorable together. Most toddlers aren't really interested in playing together, but his cousin was and that made Kekoa so, so happy. Like, new best friend happy. Looking at pictures later: "It's my favorite dog Benji! It's [cousin!]! I love him! My favorite friend!"

He also adored the robots and promptly got to work making some when he found his Duplos (you can see why it looks this way by seeing one of my brother's robot matches here - I'm a proud sister).  The other trucks are the audience who intermittently yell "Come on guys!" and "Great job Uncle Andy!"

Another funny thing Kekoa has started is using placeholders when he thinks there ought to be more adult words, but he doesn't know which ones. So he'll be telling me a story:

"Hey Mommy! We went on a walk to the library and eee uh ah ooh ee ah see a police car!"

Or when he's singing, if he can't remember the rest of the line: "Oh say can you see by the dawn's early light, ah uh ah oh in eh oh EEMING"

They're all very distinctly pronounced syllables and he doesn't miss a beat as if he's searching for words or saying "um." He just acts as if everything he said was perfectly clear.

That is something that can be said for toddlers: life is never boring. Mind-numbingly repetitive - yes. But boring? Not so much.

Kekoa Miscellaneous

Kekoa wanted to eat some M&Ms, to which he is allergic, and Josh told him that it would make him very, very itchy. "But we have plenty lotion!"

"Hear the ffff sound for the F words....ffff in fire truck and in...birfday candles!  fffff fffff fffff hooray! Going to be free! All of these words have an f."

(in case you didn't get that... ffff ffff ffff is blowing out the candles, and "free" is "three")


While getting his hair combed:  "Okay Dad, I'm done being calm." After which he proceeded to indeed be done.


Kekoa was Ellie's biggest cheerleader when she was figuring out how to crawl....until he realized that anything left on the floor is fair game.  "No, you can't crawl anymore. Too little!"


Ellie was crying and Kekoa brought her all his toys to comfort her. When she persisted in screaming, he decided it was time to put his foot down:  "That's ENOUGH, Ellie. You MUST calm down now."

Those younger siblings are just all kinds of trouble: "No, Ellie! You can't go potty in your pants! You must go potty in the potty!"

And of course, sometimes you just get fed up of keeping a youngster in line. Kekoa, talking to himself: "No, don't kick the baby. That is NOT a good plan."

"Look at my horsey!"

He has his sweet moments, too. We moved Ellie into Kekoa's room last month, and it has worked out beautifully. The other night Ellie didn't want to sleep and started to cry. We waited a few minutes, then heard Kekoa talking to her: "It's okay Ellie, I'm right here." She calmed down immediately and we heard some giggles for a few minutes, then silence.

Around 11:00 pm, I heard Kekoa crying, so I went in to check on him. He had brought his pillow next to her Pack n' Play and slept on the floor next to her - she was pressed up against the mesh netting to be close to him. But his blankets were stuck behind his bed and he was shivering under a thin receiving blanket.  "It's okay, Bud," I whispered. "You can sleep in your bed and I'll tuck you in."

"But Ellie needs me!"

It doesn't get any better than that. <3 p="">