Out of the mouths of babes

Lately, some truly funny things have come out of my children's mouths. 

Thank you, beloved Miss Kristen for sharing several of these with me. 

***

Big Boy (after I helped him up off the floor): "Fanks, Mama - You're a lot stronger than you look!"

Wee One (to Hubs): "Are you my best fwiend?" 

Big Boy: "Miss Kwisten, you got some smooooth moves." 

Wee One (as Miss Kristen scooped him out of his crib after nap): "Gasp! Dis wooks wike my home!" 

Big Boy: "Mama? Can you get me a waffle?"

Me: "Sure, Bud."

Big Boy: "But first, let's cuddle."

Wee One: (When he smells anything) "Gah! What is dat tewible smell?" 

Wee One: (When someone asks him about his eye) "I not weah my boots on da stai-ahs anymore."

***

Do you have an amusing kid quote to share?

Weekend

A lovely weekend.

Another walk in the woods.

Sometimes gratitude is easy to come by.

Happy Monday.

Friday Moment

Friday Moment with Soule Mama again today.

If you have a moment to share, please leave a comment with a link!

This week, it's a pre-shiner snow moment.

He always chews on the "collah" of his jacket. I have no
idea why. He's a weird kid. 

Let us all hope his face looks like this again soon, yes?

Happy Weekend, Gang.

5:00am

5:00am

Wee One: "Wah!"

Me: Good God. No. "What's the matter, Bud?"

Wee One: "Kin I have a waffle?"

***

With a morning such as this, there will be no blog post today.

Be back tomorrow.

Nice Shiner, Bro.

Now before you go freaking out or anything, the Wee One is just fine.

A bit more colorful, but fine.

Actually, no, he didn't hit himself in the face with a wrench.
But that is exactly what I looked like. 

I can hear you all the way from here, "Good Lord, what happened to his face?"

Well, dear friends, our Wee One learned a valuable lesson:

*Thou shalt not attempt to descend stairs while wearing snow boots, without proper adult supervision.*

"I think this makes me look rugged."

The best part of the story is that this incident occurred while I was at yoga this weekend. So I receive a photo message on my cell phone with this poor child's face.

I wasn't too traumatized, though. Our Wee One is going to be our Emergency Room child.

There's one in every family, yes?

The Big Boy is so cautious and careful, where the Wee One is adventurous and unafraid.

This lovely shiner will be the first of many, I think.

Great Day

If you stopped by for Friday's "Moment" you may have wondered who are the other children involved in that heart-stoppingly cute toddler group hug.

Well, dear friends, those two little angels belong to a beloved friend of mine, who came up on Thursday to spend the day with us - and brought lunch!

Oh, this girl and her daughters - they own some serious real estate in my heart.

This is little sister:

So cute it hurts. 

Now, little sister is so painfully cute you just can't help but want to scoop her up for love, but sadly, little sister is still knee deep in stranger-danger so the only time she would get within 3 feet of me is when I had my big, black camera in front of my face.

"Ta-da!"

And where there's little sister, there must of course be Big Sister. 

Big Sister has captured the heart of my Big Boy. Oh, do these two play nicely together. 

Though Big Sister can't always get on board with the perpetual
truck-and-train play in our house.

Love, love, love this next photo. 

Check out the two girls chatting with my shy Boy.

"Did Santa come to your house this year? Yeah, I was hoping for the TI-89
titanium graphing calculator, but my marble playset is pretty cool."

And I also love this next photo - group hug attempt 1:

Palm to the face.

For those of you (Derek) who are wondering where the Wee One is in all these photos - little guy was sleeping, I forgot to take my camera out until the last minute.

No worries tho Wee One will be back tomorrow. 

Bucket list

This weekend I had the opportunity to cross something off my bucket list.

I went to a 2-day yoga seminar.

Saturday and Sunday, I left the house at 7am and did not return until after dinner.

After working his usual 40 hour workweek my beloved Hubs gave up his weekend and managed both our children for 2 long days.

A huge thank you to you, beloved Hubs. And also to beloved sister-in-law who came up to help him and hang with the littles.

I don't have many pictures to show you from the seminar. There's just no way to capture what went on in that big, empty room at the YMCA - but I can tell you this, it was amazing.

Here's my nutritious lunch. 

It occurred to me this weekend that I've been doing yoga for 12 years. 

I was taking my first yoga class at UMass when I had my stroke in 2001. I was unable to complete the class, and my yogi's cut me some slack and had me write an essay. (Unlike the nazi step aerobics instructor who made me watch several hours of tai bo videos in order to obtain my credits). 

I've taken regular yoga, prenatal yoga, post-natal yoga, and itsy-bitsy yoga with the Big Boy. 

When I really started to think about it, yoga has been quietly at my side for a really long time, and I never noticed. 

Bliss. 

This weekend I was allowed to deepen my practice. 

I was given insight into the poses that I have done for years. 

I was taken back to the absolute basics of my practice and shown the incredible strength and wisdom available at the very foundation. 

For balance - we did tree. 

For inversion - we did legs up the wall. 

Nothing fancy. The "ta-da" poses we put off for another day, to focus on the building blocks of a strong practice. 

It gave me the opportunity to let go of what I thought a "good" practice looked like. I was humbled by the amount of growth and understanding available to me in my most familiar poses. 

In poses that felt familiar, felt like home, I could still find work - still find an edge.

I hadn't even noticed that I had been neglecting the basics - considering them "thoroughly understood" when in fact, I haven't even scratched the surface. 

And the people. 

Oh the people. 

To be in a room with like minded people. So incredibly different, yet in the end, so profoundly similar. It was amazing. 

Older than me, younger than me. Fitness professionals and first-timers. Newbies to yoga and yoga enthusiasts. Each of them beautiful, open and available. Kind. 

Our yogi - so powerful, funny and wise. So kind and genuine. So generous with herself. 

"Imagine what the world would be like if we all did yoga." she said. 

Imagine that. 

Now, back to the grind of diapers, and work, and dirty floors, and dirty bathrooms. But, I am changed. I will hold on to what I was given this weekend. 

A bit of peace. A yearning for more, and less - if you know what I mean. 

Oh I'm so grateful. So filled up to the brim. 

Happy Monday, friends. 

Friday Moment

Happy Friday Guys!

Friday Moment with Soule Mama again today.

If you have a moment to share, please leave a comment with a link.

Yesterday we had a wonderful visit with beloved friends... and this happened

Be still a mama's heart...

Happy weekend.

Grown Up

Now that I am the grown-up, I have come to respect how much effort goes in to creating the joyous carefree seasonal moments from childhood.

Last week, it snowed.

It was our first accumulating snow of the season and it was a lovely little storm.

About 2-3 inches of perfect snowball snow arrived, without messing up the days' commutes too terribly.

Though, from experience I knew that even a few inches of snow could be troublesome - so I had a list of things to do, just in case. 


* Ask Hubs if the generator was ready to go and if there was gas standing by.
* Shovel a path for the generator in case we had to drag it out.
* Fill the car with gas.
* Cook potentially perishable food (we can only grill and microwave in the event of a power outage).
* Assess the status of vital items (diapers, medicine, hot chocolate, tiny marshmallows).
* Hit the library for Thomas the train videos, and an assortment of new books.
* Do all laundry.

In the meantime, while I am planning and coordinating like a seasoned general, the kids want to go out and enjoy the snow.

* Suggest pre-snow gear potty trip and diaper change.
* Endure tantrums and whining.
* Successful potty trip and dry diaper applied - Pat self on back.
* Change the children into clothes that will fit more appropriately under snow gear.
* Endure additional whining.
* Apply snow pants.
* Recognize the Wee One's snow pants are too small, and the bib portion cannot be zippered over his round toddler belly.
* Shrug and leave them anyway.
* Apply jackets, hats and mittens.
* Apply snow boots.
* Change own clothes in kitchen in order to keep up with anxious children.
* Children enjoy snow for 2.2 minutes.
* Force children to stay outside until I finish shoveling the walks and the generator path.
* Endure whining and shivering.
* Head inside for hot chocolate and Thomas the train videos, strip snow layers and wet inner layers
* Set naked children free inside the house.
* Hang up snow clothes to dry, and arrange boots on mats.
* Redress children and start video.
* Make hot chocolate.

Luckily, the power stayed on this time.

I know we won't always be so lucky, but at least I know we'll be prepared.

In the wee small hours of the morning

Sorry guys,

Not much of a post today - our Big Boy was up uber early with a potty crisis.

The crisis has been resolved, but with it went any chance of a child-free moment for blogging.

Back tomorrow.

M

Epic Fails Part 1: The time I hit myself in the face. With a wrench.

Recently while I was regaling beloved Miss Kristen with one of my many tales of one hilarious failure or another, she suggested that I add an "Epic Fails" category to Bad Mama Moments.

Here we are.

Today I am going to tell you about one of my most epically awesome moments.
Before I was a nurse, I was a lab geek working in the Biotech industry. Cells and microscopes and incubators, not gonna lie, it was a pretty fly gig.

Our incubators were fed sciency air via very large compressed air tanks, like this one:

Except approximately 6 feet tall.

Note the large nut on the side of the air tank's top.

One utilizes a wrench to remove the nut and attach the regulator that controls the air flow from the cylinder into the incubator.

On this particular day the nut was on rather tight. Ask for help? Never.

In a burst of inspiration, I opted to use gravity and leverage.

I placed the wrench on the nut, angling the handle of the wrench towards the ceiling - then I placed both hands on the handle of the wrench and applied all my body weight.

Success! The nut loosened and the handle of the wrench came crashing down onto my cheekbone with all the force a 120lb woman can muster, with the help of gravity of course.

I immediately noticed a large egg forming below my eye.

I was not going to be able to hide this little incident from my peers.

***

"Umm, boss?" I say, upon entering the doorway of boss' office.
"Yeah?" he says, looking up, startled when his eyes reach my face.

"Yeah."  I say. "I, ah, hit myself. In the face. With a wrench."

***

"Hi, umm, HR lady? Boss says I need to fill out some paperwork because I had an injury in the lab."

"Oh dear, you poor thing!" says cheery HR lady. "Name, date of birth... yadda yadda... and what happened in the lab?"

"I hit myself.

In the face.

With a wrench."

Silence.

"Well then. Let's just have you sign right here."

Dreams

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.
Martin Luther King, Jr.

I think this is every parents' dream for their child, for the world to see past the outer trappings, and appreciate "the content of their character".

The character that we as parents have nurtured and strengthened since their birth.

The character that is within them, strong and solid and true, from birth, and though we try to support its' growth - our most important job may be to keep the world from harming it.

To teach our children how to live in this world, but not be taken in by it.

To remember that their character is precious, despite the constant messages indicating the opposite.

How do I teach them to pay attention to their character? How do I teach them to listen to the whispers from that place rather than the shouts and demands of the world and their own blossoming egos?

I can't help but imagine the impact on our world if we all pulled our dreams from that sacred place.

I suppose that big change can start small.

I can start with me and how I raise my boys.

Friday Moments

Friday Moments, as usual, with Soule Mama.

If you have a moment or two to share, please leave a comment with a link!

I'm totally breaking the rules today - two photos, lots of words. Sorry, Amanda. I'll try harder next week.

Yesterday we had our first snow of the season.

I love this picture because of his stance.
Little kids just have perfect body mechanics, no?

A meeting of the minds.
"Wookit all dis snow."
"Yah"
"We bettah pwow  a paff fru dis."
"Yah"

Happy weekend, gang.

Thanks, as always, for stopping by.

Whatcha Reading?

On a cold, snowy day like today my thoughts automatically turn to curling up on the couch with a good book.

Not that I'll get to do that today, of course, but a girl can dream.

I've read a couple good ones lately.


First off is Ammie, Come Home by Barbara Michaels. This is a wonderfully spooky mystery originally published in 1968. It's very much like a grown up Nancy Drew. Absolutely no blood-and-guts, tons of well crafted suspense, a dash of romance and (my personal favorite) no shortage of details. When a character walks into a room, I need to know everything - from the wallpaper to the carpet - and Ms. Michaels didn't let me down.
An intellectual foursome must solve a hundred year old mystery before something really bad and scary happens to our lovely, young heroine. Library archives are combed. Dusty attics are searched. Creaky floors and spooky voices hamper our investigators at every turn. Hooray!
I read this one compulsively, it was delightfully intriguing, with the supernatural aspects coming off frightening, rather than hokey.  It was a great read - perfect for a crisp autumn evening, or a dark and cold winter's night. Mwah-ha-ha.

Next up,When She Woke by Hillary Jordan. Warning: this book hits on a bunch of touchy subjects - so if you read it, don't send me flame-o-grams, okay? You've been warned.
This book is thought provoking and suspenseful. I couldn't put it down.
Set in a post-STD-plague ravaged future where religious fundamentalists have largely taken control of the government. Criminals are "chromed", their skin turned a different color based on the type of crime of which they have been convicted. Prisons have been eradicated since criminals are now so easily identifiable and "Chromes" are forced to live in slums, subject to all manner of abuse from the general population.
Our main character is convicted of murder after she is found to have undergone an illegal abortion. She is sentenced to be "a red" for seventeen years. She refuses to give up the name of the father of the baby, or the man who performed the abortion. Released to the general population she begins a journey of self-discovery on which she questions the very foundations of the belief system on which she was raised.
This book is a modern take on the scarlet letter - it's intense, though. If you don't like books that make you question everything, skip this one.

And, what have you been reading lately, dear friends?

Let them eat cake

So, as you know, the Big Boy turned four. 


Four is big.

Yesterday while we were riding in the car spotting fire hydrants (our favorite game), the Wee One was totally cheating, crying "I spotted that one!" when in fact he had been looking in the completely opposite direction.

The Big Boy took it in stride and said, "Now let me spot one, and then you can spot the next one, okay?"

The Wee One complied, and they took turns spotting hydrants - with absolutely no intervention from me.

He's also starting to back-talk a little. 

Trying it out, to see how it goes over.

"You gotta share the trains, Bud."

"No! I! Don't!" 

Two words: Lead. Balloon. Get thine butt to time-out, back-talker. 

Why use the fork? 

He's also started calling me "Mom" instead of "Mumma". 

He puts this hilarious little accent on it - as if he's calling me a naughty word and he expects to be reprimanded.

"Can you read this book, Mom?" 

Anxious pause. 

"Sure, Bud."

Confused face. 

You'd laugh too if you were sitting across the table from this... 

"Mmmmm"

He's so big.

How did he ever get so darn big?

Not cool, bro.

I'm not ready. 

Artful boys

It is important, in my humble opinion, that the boys are exposed to art.

You know me, I read all the books, and the books tell me that self-expression through art can help children with difficult emotions and during difficult times.

Later, we're invading Sparta.

My two boys could not be more different when it comes to art.

The Wee One loves it. Crayons, markers, paint ... anything. He can't get enough. And the bigger the mess, the better.

Shudder. The paint is all mixed up. Gah!

My littlest is freedom personified.

Containing him during art time is like containing a force of nature.

Umm. Sweetie? You've got a little something.
On your face.

The Big Boy, on the other hand, does not enjoy art.

He has only recently begun to participate because of his Wee brother's enthusiasm.

Paint brush inspection.

He sits quietly at the table, thoughtful and absorbed.

Continually requesting that I clean up any stray drip.

For me, art time is an excercise in determination.

I try vehemently to restrain myself from hovering over them and trying to avoid messes.

I grind my teeth and repeat my mantra, "Washable paint. Washable paint. Washable paint."

When it's over, I breathe deeply and give myself a pat on the back.

Apparently, art time is good for me, too.

Weekend Awesomeness

This weekend I got to cash in a Christmas present from my beloved sister.

Girlfriend signed us up for a private Pilates training session for two, utilizing the oft-whispered-about-but-never-actually-seen Pilates machines. 


Oh, you didn't know there were Pilates machines? Well let me tell you sistah-friend, if you've ever taken a Pilates class, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

This beast is called The Cadillac. 

That wee pixie with the ripped biceps is the trainer. She's my new hero and I sort of love her.

That sweet photo editing (brown rectangle) on the left is hiding my sister. You're welcome, Liz.

Yes, the Cadillac is sort of like a set of parallel bars - and yes, you do indeed hang from the bars and do, umm, flips and stuff.

Seriously.

Awesome trainer jumped up there and demo'd it for me. I love her.

This creepy contraption is The Reformer.

We spent our session here, on the Reformer, and it  may have been the best hour of my life.

The black cushion slides back and forth along the frame. You can move it by pushing off that black bar at the near end of the frame or by pulling on some straps that are attached at the far end of the frame.

You place your butt, hands, or feet on the cushion and slide around controlling the movement with your core (i.e. abs, lower back, and glutes) with your arms and legs doing a variety flailing and gyrating and circling.

It was awesome. 

If you are like, "What in the hell is Pilates?" you are missing out. Email me. Find a class. Try some of the moves on YouTube. If you are a local, come to one of my classes - it's awesome, just sayin'.

Thank you, Liz. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Friday Moment

Hey Guys

Friday Moments as usual with Soule Mama

I'm grateful for Soule Mama's "no words" rule today because it's hard for me to find words to describe how I'm feeling anyway.

Four?

Four.

Happy weekend.

Happy Birthday, Big Boy.

Four years old.

Four.

When did that happen?

This morning I found him stark naked in the bathroom, washing his hands.

"Whatcha doin', bud?" I ask.
"I went potty." he says, as if 10 days ago he wasn't still firmly ensconced in diapers.

Earlier this week beloved Miss Kristen found him stark naked in the bathtub.

He had taken it upon himself to disrobe and climb in while she was putting the Wee One in his crib after his bath.

He's growing and growing and growing.

Leaps and bounds.

Big, big boy.

As much as I'd like to sit here and wax nostalgic for a few more minutes, today is his day and he'd really like me to come pretend to be a train with him.

Choo Choo!

Night Out!

Ahh...

Hubs and I had dinner out last night.

Thank you, beloved Miss Kristen.

Fancy beverages.

Excellent food.

Conversation with complete sentences.

Bliss.

We arrived home to a quiet house with sleeping children.

Double Bliss.

For locals Unums is a lovely restaurant for a special night. (Or for a random Tuesday night when you have babysitting available)

Today we're back to business as usual...

Resolutions in photos

My New Years Resolutions include...

More knitting.

Organize and Purge

Improved hydration. 

More yoga. 

Eat more fruit. 

Fewer M&M's

More cardio.

Down, dangit. 5 more lbs. 

What's on your list?