Salt Water Cure

"The cure for anything is salt water- sweat, tears, or the sea." - Isak Dineson

We'd alread had more than enough of the first two for the day. So I threw the boys on the car, even if to hear the screams echo off any surface other than our home.

Rotten first started noticing animals at the zoo maybe a month or two ago. Recently, he's started showing a preference for ducks. The pond at Pt. Defiance Park has a good-sized flock, and he will just stare at them, then clap excitedly, and (see above) try to catch them from his stroller. His first birthday will be duck-themed.

Stinky, going against his nature, wanted to sit very still "so the ducks will be by me" and it worked! A few minutes later, a female mallard came and sat in the sunny patch to the left of him in the picture. We've been reading Make Way for Ducklings so he decided she was Mrs. Mallard.

Next, we drove to Owen Beach, where Rotten and I disagreed about the edibility of pebbles for most of our time there. Eventually, I got him to clap when I'd make one splash in the water.

Stinky spent most of his time working on a raft consisting of three pieces of driftwood. He managed to balance himself on it, but it sank every time. Our troubles were cured, at least temporarily, because they were hungry and sleepy when we got home, and I got some peace, at least until dinner time.

I Don't Want to Live on the Moon

There's a sweet song from Sesame Street that Ernie sings, I Don't Want to Live on the Moon, where he dreams of travelling to the moon, under the sea, to the jungle and through time, but muses that while he'd love to see the sights, his heart really lies with his family and loved ones. Stinky and I love singing this song together. As I drove him home after preschool the other day, I thought about the lyrics in a deeper way than I usually do as we're singing in the car.

There are still moments when I miss the freedom of time that existed before motherhood. I think nostalgically about going shopping and the only person I had to say "no, not today" to was myself. I sometimes think about the projects I could be doing instead of pre-treating soiled laundry, or even writing a blog post with both of my hands.

But the truth is, while I sometimes miss that freedom, the projects, it wasn't really that great. I wanted these boys, and the life they make so exhaustingly awesome. So I'll join Ernie in singing today:

I'd like to visit the jungle, hear the lions roar,
go back in time and meet a dinosaur,
There's so many strange places that I'd like to be,
but none of them permanently.

So if I should visit the moon,
well, i'll dance on a moon beam and then,
I will make a wish on a star
and I'll wish I was home once again.

Though I'd like to look down
at the earth from above,
I would miss all the places
and people I love.

So although I may go, I'll be coming home soon.
No I don't want to live on the moon.

Edit: A friend of mine posted a link to an awesome performance of this song. Check it out here.

Jerk

(In case you were wondering,the couch is where my wild things are often found, taking brief breaks from their adventures .)

It was a rough night for everyone around these parts. It included way too much crying and way too little sleep. The only sleep I can say that I'm certain I got was sitting upright in a chair where I zonked out while feeding Rotten. As a result, the night and morning have pretty much blended together and somewhere in there, I became a huge jerk. A massive headache hit me. Stinky woke early, woke Rotten and me, got into everything in the bedroom he knows he isn't supposed to, and spoke as loudly as humanly possible. I haven't had a drink in my life, but I swear sleep deprivation has given me a hangover.

I'm glad my children are so forgiving. I hope they won't remember days like this. The plan for the day is to get Rotten down for a nap, then to clean the jerk-i-ness right out of me. Then it's all Dr. Pepper, movies, knitting and baking. The plan for the weekend is to stay warm and do as little as possible. What about you?

Brothers

They're becoming best friends. Stinky asks if he can 'babysit' Rotten. He wants to help with him all the time. Blanket time involves both of them and cab go on for half an hour sometimes. Rotten wiggles with delight when he sees Stinky and looks at him with terrifying admiration, as if to say "I can't wait until I can keep up and we can make Mom extra crazy." I know it won't constabtly be wonderful with them, but I love watching the love they have for eachother grow.

Full Of It

It was a really nice weekend. Was yours? I hope so.

I'd planned for a round-up of the handmade gifts I made, but the weekend has been too full.

Full of family faces, from near and far.

Full of noses being wiped, Theraflu and Emergen-C chugged.

Full of puzzles and games played on the rug.

Full of gratitude and reflection.
Full of snuggles and late-night movies.
Full of joy at Rotten sleeping in the bed Santa brought him (On his own! CELEBRATE!).
Full of one-on-one time with Stinky thanks to Rotten's sleep successes.
Full of appreciating gifts, but embracing the companions.

Much, much too full for writing any blog posts.

So I hope you'll forgive me, but this weekend was so filling that if it was a meal, I would be searching for my maternity pants. Okay, you caught me, I totally had to find my maternity sweats. I'm back on track now. Come back tomorrow, though. This week is full of good stuff.

Week of Thanksgiving: Brothers

When we went in for the mid-pregnancy ultrasound, I was sure that our baby was a girl. I would have put money on it. When the ultrasound tech told me there was no doubt, this was another boy, I was shocked for a moment, and then I thought "brothers!" Then I cried like a baby, but good tears. I love the way that Stinky looks out for his little brother. I love that Rotten laughs and smiles at him in a different way than he does for anyone else. It's almost conspiritorial, and I know it should scare me. I'll worry when Rotten is mobile.

Stinky, Rotten Boys.

"Great name, I know. But it's not the worst. Parents believe that a hideous name will frighten off gnomes and trolls." - Hiccup, How to Train Your Dragon

My mother ran a home daycare for over twenty years. I helped her with this through some of high school and college. Our favorite kids in the daycare were usually described by the phrase "good and rotten." Good, because they were usually obedient, loving, and easy to be around, but rotten enough to be spunky and fun.

Colin has a habit of faking me out with his sleep at night. He's been kind of colicky lately, and will fall asleep for just a few moments to wake up yelling at me all over again. The other night he stopped as soon as I picked him up and made a contented cooing sound. "Oh, you're rotten," I sighed at him. It fit. So here on the blog, I'll be calling him Rotten.

Stinky wasn't a colicky baby, but he loved, loved, loved his binkies. When he was little, I'd pace with him, chanting "Stinky binky boy, stinky binky boy." Eventually, it became just "Stinky" - sometimes stinkopotamus or stinkasaurus rex - and it suits him in the same "good and rotten" way that Rotten suits his brother.

So, those arethere are the origins of Stinky and Rotten. Maybe the names won't frighten off gnomes and trolls, but I like them just the same.

Summer Joy no. 30

Summer Joy no. 30

the boys, holding hands and being "bruvvers" as Stinky says.

you know what else makes me smile so big my face might crack? saying "the boys."