juliloquy

busman's holiday

HPR has the day off and we're going on a day trip to Mt. Vernon. I hadn't realized it's so close.

And this is a photo of Shmoo in the bounce house at his birthday party.

by starlight

I have hesitated to write this because writing about it makes it more real/true. Our cat, Stella, has been missing since Halloween afternoon. I know. We have been trying to stay positive: have filed a report with animal control, put up posters and a craigslist post, alerted our neighbors, and she has a chip. (The Philly pound does the chip to all pets when you adopt.) But as each day passes, we lose a little hope.

Loki was gone for one week once in Philly. We assume he got stuck in a garage when someone went on vacation (Sat - Sat). But we are also preparing ourselves for the possibility that she is gone for good. HPR's positive thought is that someone took her in - it was raining pretty hard that night (although she has stayed out on other rainy nights despite our calling for her. She has always come back dry and unfazed, so she certainly knows how to find shelter).

The kids don't seem too affected by Stella's absence. Probably because Stella always hid when they were awake! We know we have had a good run with her and that she has loved the new house/neighborhood. Loki is missing her, we think.

I'm sure the neighbors are enjoying the Streetcar Named Desire reenactments that we have been doing as we try to call her home to us.

Shmoo through the years

Shmoo made me a mother five years ago. We retold his birth story to him today, how it all started with a donut on Broad Street, and that he said "I want that!" My trolley ride home while in labor, calling HPR to tell him it was time for him to come home. How the fire alarm was going off at the hospital when we arrived, the elevator began to take us up to the 14th floor, but then stopped and returned us to the first floor. (We only had to wait a few minutes before we could go up, but I had visions of delivering in the waiting room.) Anyway, here he is, over the years. Newborn photo missing since I'm not at my computer.

Age one

A few days away from age two, in New Mexico

 

Age three, he's looking at me

 

Age four, brother bugs sister (and best Philly friend, S.)

 

And a few days shy of five, bugging tables turned

Here's to Shmoo!

he doesn't dig on swine

Only a short post today. We are exhausted from preparing for Shmoo's party, then the party itself (bounce house again this year, and s'mores, all in our own back yard), then packing up and driving 3 hours to PA grandparents' place.

Shmoo's quote to the crowd during his party. "I don't eat any meat except turkey bacon. My mom says I'm a veterinarian."

He turns 5 tomorrow!

and yet our house is still filled with crap

Things I threw away/recycled when my son wasn't looking that I had told him he could keep but that he never thought of again:

• leaves, fresh and dried
• various rocks
• pine cones and other assorted seed pods
• deflated balloons, some with ribbons attached, some without
• foxtails
• wild mushrooms
• a brownie mix box
• various candy wrappers

more on parenting tactics

The brilliant Sheryl tweeted that she charges a candy tax for every wrapper she finds on the floor. Excellent! So today, after catching Shmoo trying to lift Loki cat up with a doll scarf, I told him if I saw him hurting the cat or Roo that I would take a piece of candy out of his basket and eat it. As I was gathering shoes and coats to get us out the door for his afternoon Pre-K, I caught Shmoo roughly squeezing Roo on the couch. (He puts one hand on her belly and the other on the small of her back and pushes them together.) I announced that I was taking a piece of his candy and did it. (I set the candy aside because I had just brushed my teeth.) He was crestfallen. Candy is his Precious. So we'll see how effective this is. The best part about it is I can just calmly announce it and do it, rather than put him in time-out, which tends to get dramatic and incendiary. When the candy's all gone, however, I'll have to figure out another plan.

Shmoo's actions worry me a bit because no matter what I say/do, he doesn't seem to realize the consequences of what he does. Empathy doesn't seem to be his strong suite. I wouldn't say it's on the level of sociopath—probably more a lack of impulse control.

It's tough to find the balance of controlling him vs. letting things play out. The cat has claws and teeth and can run away and jump out of reach. Roo can speak up for herself and physically can hold her own more and more. She enjoys the roughhousing they do (different than today's incident because it wasn't mutual). But Shmoo is nearly 50 lbs and strong as an ox. Bottom line is we don't inflict harm on others. /sigh/

mistakes were made

A few recent photos have me wondering what kind of example I'm setting for my kids.

First is Roo's Britney imitation.

 

She went on to give the baby an underdog-push in the baby swing.
Seriously - she said "unnadod" as she was doing it.

All right, so two minor lapses in judgment and no one is hurt, right?
I'm afraid I can't say the same of microwaving the baby.

 

Ding! Fresh baby!

So I guess I should make some changes to my parenting tactics. Maybe the first step should be to let the kids out of their cages more often.

 

missing and loving

Odd things I miss about our Philadelphia house:

- having a window in the bathroom. So nice to have it open in good weather to disperse shower steam, to have natural light, and as a weather/time cue. We have a window in our powder room here, but not in the full bath.

- radiators. I don't understand why these fell out of vogue. They are energy efficient and keep more humidity in the air. We haven't run the heat here much yet, but I'm not looking forward to the dryness and static. I'm sure the cats aren't, either. (Also, the radiators were such cozy window seats for our cats.)

- the front porch. Hanging out in the swing, greeting neighbors and passers-by, watching storms. We are also realizing how much dirt and debris were shaken off our shoes between porch steps and front door, now that we don't have as much transition space from outside to in.

- that it was built in 1919, and brick. We nicknamed it the Speakeasy. 

- the cheesy faux fireplace. The candelabra suited it so well. Also, to me, a mantle really signifies "home." Good thing we'll be in Oakland for Christmas, because I don't know how Santa will get in to this house.

- our dishwasher. We had remodeled our kitchen and our dishwasher was new. The dishwasher in this house isn't bad, but it doesn't hold as many dishes and doesn't seem to get them as clean.

- hot water dispenser in kitchen sink. Tea in seconds. It was great, too, for washing out baby bottles, although we don't have need for that anymore.

- hearing the trolley rumble by, one block away.

Things I love about our Frederick house:

- because it's smaller, it takes much less time to clean. (So one might think we'd clean more often, right?) We also have a designated play room, so toys stay there. More or less.

- back patio w/ sliding door from the kitchen. I often carry Roo out after meals to shake the rice or noodles off her clothes. Loved sitting out there this past summer with a beer while the kids drove their push cars around. Shucking corn outside while the water came to a boil inside. Impromptu picnics.

- fewer mosquitoes in the back yard. It's much more pleasant to hang clothes on the line.

- no plaster.

- carport. I just like to say "carport." It's convenient for bike storage, too.

- Bunnehs.

- washer/dryer. Came with the house. Some high-tech Amana h-e units. They light up like ground control and have more features than our Saturn and cell phones combined.

- hearing the noon and 5 p.m. whistles from a nearby factory. Seems so Laverne and Shirley.

meals on wheels

It's a good thing I signed on to the everyday-in-November thing. Typepad changed at some point when I was in not-posting mode. This will force me to navigate in the new set-up.

I announced on twitter and facebook that Roo is now in a big-girl bed. We had a few rough nights (funny - when Shmoo transitioned to a toddler bed, he didn't realize for several weeks that he could get out of it by himself. He called for me to get him when he woke up in the morning.) and a few limits-testing bedtimes (yes, you're cute, now go back to bed), but she has taken to it quite well. 

In the morning* she gets up and wanders through the living room, in case we're awake, then through the kitchen, to the powder room, and into our bedroom. This makes a nearly complete circle, since the 3 bedroom doors are all near each other at the end of the hall. She says "'ood morning, Mommy! 'ave dood schnooze?" I get up and we go to the living room for a nurse,** and sometimes we'll fall back asleep until the guys wake up.

ANYWAY with the time change*** Roo has awakened at 4:19 and 4:22 the past two mornings despite our putting her to bed at the standard time bedtime. This morning she came around to our room and said "Mommy, 'n I have nursey?" and I said OK. We went to the couch. When she was done, she slid off of me and started back for her room. At first I didn't understand what she was doing. I suggested a snuggle and then followed her. Then it hit me—she was going back to her bed. She crawled right in and I pulled the covers up. I was thrilled at the prospect of going back to bed myself even as my mind flashed to how I'd have to discourage the before-morning feedings, yet still chalking it up to the time change.****

Turns out I didn't have to think about new rules/boundaries because she got back up (for the day, alas) a few minutes later.

Both kids are currently napping, so I will do so myself.

* "morning" here defined, unfortunately, as 5 a.m. or later.

**yes, still nursing and not interested in weaning. I don't nurse her until morning (see fn* above). I can often distract her during the day; the bedtime nurse is just perfunctory, but the morning one THOU SHALT NOT MESS WITH.

***GRRRR

**** cf. note ***

Halloween recap

Daylight savings ends. An extra hour of sleep, right? Yeah, tell that to a 2-year-old. Specifically, my 2-year-old. Because the kids both took good naps yesterday (a rarity for Shmoo these days) and because of trick-or-treating and the required combing through of the haul, we let them stay up late. It still seems so unfair that that never works for getting them to sleep in.

So, Halloween. We weren't sure how our new neighborhood would be. Seems like it would be the kind of place where people really get into the holiday. Probably it was back in the 60s when these houses were first built and there were kids everywhere. Long story short—our cul-de-sac is lame. We were the only house open for business. We are at the bottom of the cul-de-sac and only had about 10 visitors. (Wishing I had been more generous with the first visitors.) Anyway, now we know for next year.

HPR stayed home to answer the door while I took the kids out. Roo was in the stroller for some of the time. Shmoo was sweet in asking folks if he could have some for his sister, too, motioning back to us in the driveways. (Not sure how truly unselfish were his motives, but I'm choosing to put that spin on it.) Our route was a nice loop around the neighborhood. We were out from about 7-8 and toward the end, people were virtually pouring the candy into our bags. So between the kids' take and our leftovers, we're doing well.