The day that was.

Oh, the day of crabbiness.

It started when Paul would not let Shawn take a shower before work. He was insistent that Shawn watch SuperWHY! with him. Since there was a little time to spare, Shawn got Paul dressed before coming upstairs to collect Joss and get me outta bed. I made it down stairs, and entered the room to hear Shawn tell Paul to “go give mommy a big hug!” Paul collapsed on the floor in a tantrum.

M: What's the matter, Paul?
P: Want to go upstairs!!
M: You wanted to go upstairs to wake me up?
P: (wailing) YEEEEEEEEESSSSS!!!
M: OK, come and wake me up. (goes upstairs, gets back into bed)
. . .moments later. . .
P: Mommyyyy – time to wake up!

So, Shawn showered, I got dressed, and the kids had their breakfast at home. They usually eat at daycare, but today is special. Paul gets to go visit Mommy at work at the dentist's office, and have his teeth cleaned! Paul had a minor melt-down over not going immediately to school, but quickly recovered, and became excited to see the dentist. So excited, in fact, that he buzzed around me like a deranged hummingbird, until I told him to put down the broom and do a puzzle, for crying out loud.

I got my things together, and was about to head out the door when Shawn called for Paul to go to the potty before they got ready to leave. Paul freaked out, screamed NOOOOOOOOOOO, ran around the house, and wound up in the bathroom, collapsed face-down over a small ottoman. I passed by the bathroom at this point, and smelled a smell that was smelly. “I smell poop,” I said. Then it hit the fan.

Shawn yelled, Paul cried, the bathroom got covered in poop. “Let's get out of here,” I whispered to Joss (who had spent the last 10 minutes following me around and crying when I didn't stop to pick him up), and I put on his coat. As we tip-toed out the door, we heard “You're covered in poop – don't sit down. Don't sit down!! DON'T SIT DOWN!!!!”

Joss and I got to the office about 15 minutes before Shawn and a freshly underpanted Paul arrived. Paul was sweet and charming and obedient. He got his teeth counted (20!), polished, and swabbed with fluoride. Afterwards, he could choose some prizes. He chose a Spiderman sticker, and promptly stuck it to the front of his shirt. “I have Spiderman sticker!” Then Joss grabbed a few stickers from the bowl.

M: I think Joss wants you to have this Batman sticker.
P: No, want other sticker.
M: This My Little Pony sticker?
P: Yeah.
M: Do you want it on your shirt or in your bag?
P: Want on BACK of shirt. (Gives sticker to Shawn)
D: Hmm. This pony's name is Butterscotch. (Places sticker on Paul's back). I have just placed a “Kick Me” sign on my son.

Paul also took a few silly bands, and happily left for school with his brother and Daddy. Until he got to school, and didn't want Daddy to go to work. . . Later today, Shawn went back to take Paul home. He walked into the room and found Paul standing over another child, about to bean the other kid with a plastic bucket. Shawn stopped the assault, and told Paul that we don't hit people. Paul thought this over a moment and calmly replied, “I am mad at you, Daddy.”

I got home late from work, and opened the door to chaos, as per usual. Paul ran up to me, playing with a toy electric guitar, and stated that he was a Rock Star. He would only answer to “Rock Star” for most of the evening.

D: Paul - time to go potty.
P: Nooooo! I not Paul, I Rock Star!
D: OK, Rock Star, time to go potty.
RS: OK, Daddy! (Skips off the the bathroom.)

I guess it's a step up from the “Turtle” he's been for the past month or so. Joss heard my voice and made a frantic bee-line for the door. It would have been wonderfully sweet if I didn't have to pee so badly. Anyway.

We sit down to dinner, a hodge-podge of leftovers. Paul has a plate of noodles, meat sauce, and veggies, but only wants some salad. Plain romaine lettuce does not have the more calorically dense nutrition of the other elements of his meal, so I told him he could have some salad after he ate more noodles and veggies.

P: That's not the right words, Mommy.
M: What?
P: That's not the right words. The right words are “get salad!”
M: (trying not to laugh) The right words are “yes, mommy,” “I will, mommy,” “yes, daddy,” and “thank you, daddy.” Now finish your dinner.
P: I'm done. My belly is full of food.
M: OK. (begins to take away his plate)
P: Nooooo, not finished eating!!!!

I gave him back his plate, finished feeding Joss (who smeared his blueberry-pear-purple carrot blend all over his head, and looked like he had been in some horrific car wreck ), and began to eat my own meal. Paul played with his fork, twisted in his chair, anything but eating his dinner.

M: (gets the kitchen timer) You have 5 minutes to finish eating.
P: Noooooo – still eating – (insert repetitive whining here)
M: You'd be better off using this time to eat instead of complaining about wanting to eat.
P: (whines, but also tucks in to his dinner. Finally)
M: (timer dings) Time's up.
P: (more whining)
M: You have until I finish cleaning-up Joss.

I cleared away the carnage that was Joss' dinner, and told Paul is was bath time. Paul began to freak out. Shawn came back from inside the kitchen to take Paul's mostly empty plate. Paul flipped out, Shawn and I both told him it was “time out.” Paul kicked the tantrum into over-drive; Shawn calmly lifted Paul up and took him to the time out step. I brought Joss into the bathroom, and began the arduous task of scraping a days worth of food from his hair. Joss took advantage of a rare solo bath to finally play with a coveted train/boat bath toy – one of his own birthday presents, by the way.

Paul slunk into the bathroom and apologized. I gave him a hug and a kiss, and told him to strip – time for bath. Paul fussed a bit, but managed to take off his jeans (which were on backwards from the last time he got himself dressed after using the potty) and underpants and sat on the potty. “The Cars™ seat keeps me from falling in,” he said. Then he tried to climb into the bathtub still wearing his T-shirt, sweatshirt, and socks. As I helped Paul get out of his shirts, Joss decided that he absolutely had to be inside my shirt, soapy wet self and all, stood up in the tub, grabbed my shirt, and tried to climb in. I somehow disentangled Joss from my shirt, and Paul from his own shirt, and rinsed Joss off. Shawn came to grab Joss out of the tub, and Paul and I got to have a quiet bath time, just the two of us.

There was the usual shampooing, face scrubbing, body soaping, and all-over rinsing. I decided that the red, square washcloth looked like a jellyfish. I pinched a little fabric in the middle to make a wee mouth, and began talking to Paul as the jellyfish. He loved that. The jellyfish ate the toy boat, and nibbled on Paul's fingers and toes. Paul said that the bubbles in the tub (the dissipating lather from his shampoo) had little tiny playgrounds on them. He carefully made plucking gestures over the bubbles, rubbed his knees, then said the playgrounds were now on his knees. The jellyfish ate the playgrounds off Paul's knees – and then things got dark. Paul was upset the playgrounds were eaten. . .

P: (to the jellyfish) I get a knife, and I cut your belly. (He makes a stabbing/slicing motion over washcloth. He takes out the playgrounds, and places them back on his knees.) I got playgrounds out of your belly.
M: (as the jellyfish) I'm so sad now – you cut my belly with a knife!
P: It's OK – I'll fix you with tape. (Very deliberately, Paul tapes up the jellyfish's wounds.) All better.
M: Thank you – I feel better now! It's time for me to go – goodbye. (I let the washcloth free-float in the water)
P: (Picks up the washcloth, examines it.) Where mouth go? Put mouth back on the jellyfish, Mommy.

Paul and the jellyfish chatted for a little bit longer, but then the bath water grew cold, and it was time to get out of the tub. There's a small lever that toggles the tub drain open and closed. We call it the button.

M: Paul, do you want to push the button down, or should Mommy?
P: (gently taking my hand away from the button) I want no one to do it.

I managed to cajole Paul out of the tub, and cheered him up considerably with lots of hugs and warm blasts from the hair dryer. He got dressed in Pj's, brushed his teeth, and went up to bed with relatively little complaint. Joss watched most of the rest of the (recorded) Oscars with me – he got antsy listening to Jeff Bridges introduce the Best Actress nominees.

The dude abides.

Rainy day fun

It rained today. Epic, biblical, torrents for hours rain. At least we don't have to shovel it, right?

After breakfast, bathroom issues, some sibling rivalry and the resulting tantrum and time out, we headed out to Target. And both boys passed out in the car. What's a mommy to do? Why, hit the drive-thru Starbucks for a chai latte, find a sweet parking space, crack the windows, and read the book she had the foresight to bring with her. Oh, and nap a little too.

Once Paul woke up, we had our Target run, then met Daddy for lunch. What a nice surprise! Then after lunch - the indoor playground!

There's a pirate ship, and a castle, and two huge inflated bouncy slide thingies, and a race track with friction cars, and an infant room stocked with a few baby slides, play table, and mirrors.

Oh, and a triceratops.

Paul was fearless.

Joss was chill.

Mommy wished she had brought a flask. Friday of vacation week + RAIN = a million-gillion screaming crazy kids. *sigh*

Paul enjoyed climbing. . .

. . .and Joss enjoyed crawling.

Well, until he was stopped by the cops.


(Sorry for the blurry cell-phone pics.)

It's my Potty, and I'll poo where I want to. . .

Paul is in Sudden-Death potty training. Day Care has told us in no uncertain terms that Paul MUST be potty trained before the end of March. (I don't know what the "or else" could be, but I imagine it involves water boarding and multiple viewings of Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo.)

Anyway, they suggested that we send Paul to school in underpants, and with a few several changes of clothes, and we'll all go for broke. The first day he made all his pees in the potty, but had a poopsident (poop accident). The second day he made all his pees in the potty, and didn't poop at all. He came home, peed in his cow costume, threw an enormous tantrum when Mommy and Daddy couldn't instantly clean the costume, then peed his pants again.

This morning, we started out in underpants, peed twice on the potty, then despite being never more than 12 steps from the bathroom, pooped in his underpants, then duck-walked over to tell Mommy that the deed was done. *sigh* Pull-ups were called into play, but remained dry throughout the afternoon.

Part of today's activities involved the purchase of more underpants. Mommy chose some adorable Paul Frank monkey-pants, and Paul chose Cars and SpongeBob.

Cross your fingers. (And legs.)

Irene comes to visit!

Mommy's friend-from-waaaay-back Amanda, who we last saw Summer of '09, was enjoying her President's Week break in the Boston area, and came over to visit with her husband, Dave, and daughter Irene. It was great catching up and comparing parenting notes, especially since Irene is going to become a big sister in a few months.

Paul dished the "oldest sib" dirt over a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs.

What you do not see in this picture is the utter chaos of the rest of the front room, the result of lots of great playing by the 3.5, 2.5, and 1 year old masters (and mistress) of disaster. =)

Bath time! Difference between boys and girls: Irene immediately began to gently wash Joss. Paul has NEVER tried to "wash" Joss, but he has dumped many gallons of water on Joss' head.

Joss has begun the phase where he needs to pull himself up everywhere, even in the slippery bathtub.

Post-bath hugs with Dave, Irene, and Paul.


We had a great time seeing you all - hope to meet up again soon!

An artist's rendering of Joss' current dental situation.

Joss finally cut tooth #4 today! The upper right lateral. Hopefully, we'll have one or two nights of sleep before he continues on teething the other upper central inscisor. (Fingers crossed and Tylenol at the ready.)

From the mouths of babes. . .

We're sitting at breakfast, discussing birthdays.

M: Do you know whose birthday is coming up next? Safta's!
P: Safta doesn't have birthdays!
M: Oh yes, she does. Do you know how old Safta will be?
P: How old?
M: Sixty-one years old.
P: 61?!? My goodness! That's a LOT of numbers!!!

I swear, Safta, I did not coach him on that! =)

Um. . .

Daddy: Paul! Time to put on your coat and shoes and go to school.

Paul (sitting in the couch, wearing sunglasses, eating a bag of popcorners, watching Curious George): No!!! I'm too busy to put on my coat and shoes!!!!

Left Alone with Daddy

This is what happens when they leave the kids with daddy all day. Thank goodness Annie distracts so well. (Don't ask about the couch cushions.)

Where ever thou goest, I will go. . .

. . . even up a huge flight of stairs. . . several times in a row. . .

The Video:

Old toys

Gotta find more of Paul's old toys - poor Joss was using a diaper carton as a walker!

This is one of Joss' favorite toys. (Note his little tongue sticking out.)

He has figured out how to place the pegs in the holes. . .

. . .but prefers to eat the pegs!

This one tastes green, and the other tastes like a cylinder. . .

Joss update

By the way, Joss now:

*has three teeth (upper right incisor, both lower central incisors), with 2 more upper teeth about to cut through. He looks like Cleetus, the Slack-Jawed Yokel.

*can crawl, and crawl very quickly.

*can pull himself to a standing position, and does just that at every given opportunity.

*loves to feed himself. He loves chicken, banana, cereal, yogurt melts, apple snacks, and rice.

*follows Paul around like a puppy.

Friday Fun at the Playplace

Although the weather was gorgeous on Friday, the playgrounds were all still covered by snow and slush. What's a boy and his brother to do? Hit the playplace, of course!

Despite appearances, Paul made a few friends. . .

Joss wanted in on the car fun.

OK, who gets to drive first? (Note how they picked up a chick? These guys are smoooooth.)

Paul conquered Mt. Inchworm.

Joss enjoyed having freedom to explore.

Paul spent quite a while with this marble puzzle, figuring out how to manipulate the circle ball-diverting thingies to make the marbles go along the right path. It was really cool to watch.

And Joss only wants to do whatever Paul does.

Paul loved this mirror when he was about Joss' age. . .

But Joss has more teeth!


It was an eventful outing. Joss had his first creeper - this little girl (with a very loaded diaper, ugh) kept hugging him, and playing near/on top of him, and tyring to get/keep his attention. Joss seemed unfazed by the experience.

Paul had his first attempted mugging. This little boy - 4, maybe 5 years old, who already had a tussle with another kid - liked Paul's skull sneakers. At first he just tried to touch the skulls, which did not thrill Paul, but then the kid tried to grab the sneakers away! Paul is patient, but no push-over. He hung on to his shoes and wailed, "NOOOOOOOOO, MIIIIIIINNNNEEEE!!!" Mommy intervened at this point, and shooed the would-be mugger away.

Ouch.

Mommy: Come here and give me a hug!
Paul: No. I just gave you a hug.

With love from Shawn, Beren, Paul, and Joss

Joss' first Birthday Party!

Bring on the partying hoards! We have baked ziti and grapes galore!

At times it seemed like the lil kids out numbered the adults. . .

Binghamton University reunion by the play kitchen. Just like back at the Nite Owl.

Jon and Stacy dance, while Joss sneaks up on the tiger.

Party!

Paul two-fists the drink boxes. He's ready for college.

Amy and Jack wish Joss a happy birthday.

Cullen and Connor take a quick rest from partying like crazy.

It's not a party if Daddy's not at the piano! Here, Tesla helps him with the more complicated section in the second movement of "Old McDonald's Farm in Gmaj."

Sophia and Paul have an under-the-table picnic - very reminiscent of Mommy's extensive history of hiding under tables at parties.


Ahhhh. . .the cake. Just like at Paul's first birthday, Mommy splurged on an AWESOME cake. . . Top View:

Front View:

Paul supervised the candle placement.

Joss - your hat is to stylin!

Happy Birthday Dear Joss! Happy Birthday to you!

CAKE?!?

Blowing out the candle. . .

. . .and CAAAAAKKKEEEE!!!!!


Extra special thanks to Safta Sheila who was an amazing help with set up and break down. we love you Safta!

Whew! That was fun, but exhausting. Hope you had fun, Joss!