A couple weeks ago we were shopping for a birthday present (I'm sure you might remember our pre-party fiasco I blogged about recently) and ran across a $20 kit to raise a tadpole. Being the sucker parents we are, we purchased one for Grayson and were planning to order our "free tadpole" the next day. What we failed to realize was that they do not ship tadpoles when the weather is hot. This meant, no tadpole until November. We had already told Grayson about the tadpole and he seemed excited. Easy fix: visit the local pet shops to find a tadpole.
Lesson #1: Pet stores do not sell tadpoles (unless they accidentally get mixed in with the goldfish?? How that happens I'm not sure) Lesson#2: Grayson could care less about the tadpole. He is a boy. He wants a frog. Not just any frog. A BIG FROG. Lesson #3: There are a lot of things you have to do to keep a frog alive in captivity (or so the salesman says)
When we got to petco we found the perfect frog. A fire-bellied toad. Grayson was drawn to him. We talked with one of the salesmen about purchasing a frog and what all we had in our kit. He told us all of the stuff you have to do. Including a weekly run to purchase crickets (yuck). We decided to wait a few days and see if we were really up to adding to the petting zoo.
All week Grayson is asking about getting his frog. Damn. What did we start. So we decide we'll get him the stupid frog. It can't be that bad right? We convince him that he needs to cooperate on our morning errands in order to go get his frog. He even comes up with a name over lunch (dad helped him in this endeavor).
Grayson "We should name him Pito" Dad " I think Cheeto would be a good name" (think of his orange belly) Grayson "Well.... Captain Cheeto would work. He is an Avenger" (Of course he is!)
So here we are with a super excited kid who already has plans for his new pet. We go to the store and pick out the frog.
After our discussions about the frog and his size, we opt to purchase the $40 kit they had at Petco that comes with a living space, shredded coconut something or other and moss for the base, vitamins (WTF? For a frog? Even my dogs don't take vitamins), and a vine for him to climb on. We knew we had to buy him a swimming bowl. No big deal. Then as we are talking to the guy we learn that we need a tank heater, UV lighted cover, humidity and temperature gauges. Of course the frog has humidity needs that don't meet human standards. What were we thinking??? His solution to our frequent cricket purchases... buy a cricket keeper and feed hundreds of them at a time with special vitamin enhanced food so they are good for the frog. We veto the cricket farming. Chances of 1 cricket escaping in Grayson's bedroom are high enough. We can't risk an entire colony of them on the loose... our cats are domesticated!
We approach the checkout register feeling good about our purchase. Grayson has his frog in the carrier box and is talking to him "Its okay. We are on the way home. You can get out soon. Don't be scared".... our hearts are smiling he is so happy.
Grand total: $110. Excuse me? Can you repeat that? We didn't even buy all the stuff he recommended. Ugh. So we buy all the stuff. How can you not at this point? How do you rationalize with a 4 year old that his $6 frog is not worth the $104 worth of stuff he comes with?
Of course... a week later.... we are laughing at ourselves and I firmly believe that Captain Cheeto probably could live without all the extra comforts the salesman suggested, but how do you argue with the amphibian specialist who can probably make the frog live for 10 years. (This last though scares me. I am very convinced that Grayson will lose interest before he turns 14) Captain Cheeto is comfy in his new home. We have to read him books for bedtime and Grayson requests bedtime stories about him. Of course he does....making up stories about a frog who is an Avenger can't be that hard can it? Ha!
Saturday morning started off like every other normal Saturday when you have a kids birthday party to attend.... and you waited until the last minute to decide if you were going (we RSVP'd at 10:00 the night before): We got up early and rushed around to get everyone bathed and presentable.
This particular party was CARS 2 themed and the invitation said "Bring your Power Wheels for Racing Fun". Well, I wasn't really excited about this to begin with. For starters, Grayson has only wanted to ride his Firetruck we got him for Christmas a couple years ago a few times and each time was probably less than 15 minutes. A lot of work to get it out of its spot in the garage for not a lot of playtime. The other reason, packing it and dragging it to the party. I figured that several kids would bring them and they usually have 2 seats. Maybe this was just a lazy parent thought. Gray's Firetruck also does not easily fit inside our vehicle. The rear seats need to be down and this leaves no room for the most important part of our party plans...taking the kids. The kicker though, Devin's (Grayson's best friend) parents couldn't fit his in their car either. Then we offered. We can take both of them on our utility trailer. No big deal.
TIME 9:20 a.m. (Party starts at 10) Our trailer is parked in the backyard (a subject I dislike and better a topic for another blog) which is sloped downhill. Usually, Dusty just gets the riding mower out and moves the trailer around where he needs it to avoid any tire tracks in our almost green grass. This particular morning though, the grass was wet. This made getting the trailer moved a little more difficult. It took effort to even get it positioned where you could pull it out from between the trees. The mower kept spinning wheels instead of getting a good run uphill. So I suggested we could move the trailer by our hands. We have done this before. Its not a large trailer. However, I didn't take into account the wet grass on a slope, Dusty wearing crocs, myself in flip flops, or the fact that if the lawnmower wasn't getting the job done... I probably wasn't much of a help. After several attempts and a few almost slips under the trailer, we move the trailer back downhill a bit to get a better start and the pulley thing on the trailer (whatever that's called) is hooked up and tightened down. Dusty lets me get on the mower and he is going to help give the trailer a "man-powered boost".
Grayson is patiently waiting on the side of the house just watching. Braxton is crying off to the side, tears and all. He is tired and wants to be held...and afraid of the lawnmower. For my daredevil this is amazing to me. He can climb on the bar, jump in the pool... but he can't stand noise. So I get Braxton in my lap so he will calm down and we attempt to move the trailer uphill again. This does not really help my driving skills, but it saves some sanity.
Now for those of you who haven't heard. Dusty is not a big fan of me mowing the yard. I did this one time when we lived in a duplex (only 1/2 a yard to mow mind you) and he wasn't pleased. He referenced the neighbors being unhappy with him making his wife mow, but I figure its really that I didn't go in the appropriate pattern and we weren't to that acceptance point in our relationship where you just let your spouse help despite it not looking quite like you would like. This all leads to me not really being skilled with the mower. I did get a brief refresher on the brake and gears before I started. Last time I got this lesson...probably about 2006 when he decided I should know how in case he ever broke his leg.
After several attempts, we finally get a good running start up the hill. Not a fast run, but a run. We move the trailer about 20 feet up hill when I hear him yell "Let Off". So I stop. Now I hear more clearly some words of frustration. Apparently I was supposed to hear "Don't let off". So now we are stalled and spinning wheels again. Back to manual assistance for moving the trailer, only to catch on the side of the fence gait. ...we can keep going and risk tearing the gait up (probably a rather expensive option) or we can nearly cry and finally get it arranged where we can hook up the Yukon to it.
TIME 10:00 a.m. At this point I let Dusty take over controlling the trailer and getting it loaded with the Firetruck. I run inside to get the camera, diaper bag, and present all collected and ready. Braxton is following me around the house crying. I think he got louder with every new room we went in. Major tears were falling. We were already almost 15 minutes past the start time of the party and we hadn't even started to get to Devin's house to pick up his truck. I finally get back outside and get the boys in the car (unbuckled) so that I can get everything loaded. Next thing I know.... Braxton is standing in the middle console of the front seat holding an open can of coke..... upside down and over his car seat.
I believe my children heard the first time I have ever YELLED a curse word. Not a parent of the year action. I believe my next step was a prayer that neither one of them would repeat it.
TIME: 10:39 We get on the road to Devin's and pick up his truck. We get to the party right about 11 a.m. But we at least made it. By now....we are all laughing at the morning. And the kids had a blast. Although I wasn't excited that we went through all that effort for a stupid birthday party, I was happy to see all the kiddos have a great time. I only wish there were pictures for the above story so that you could all enjoy it even more.
FAST FORWARD: 36 hours later. Dusty is rolling the trailer back closer to the fence after dark and while medicated for allergies. He steps away to get a block to keep it from rolling into the fence. 5 steps: no more taillights on the trailer. Perfect Ending.
I've always heard people say how the younger child will be easier to potty train because he/she always watches the older sibling(s). Not sure how much sense this ever really made, but perhaps I will cross my fingers that such a theory holds true. Braxton does have an interest in what Grayson does in the bathroom. I hear a lot of yelling by Grayson when he is in there to get Braxton away. I catch him often after Grayson is finished trying to reflush the toilet and then getting on the step stool by the sink like HE was the one who just did something spectacular (yes as parents of toddlers, using the bathroom is a spectacular thing when it happens... more so when they officially are 100% trained and you don't have to search the house looking for the "wet spot" when they come telling you they just went potty and their pants are soaked)
Seeing the interest Braxton has with his brother's bathroom habits I made a "wandering Walmart" decision to purchase a new toddler toilet seat to put on our toilet at home. Wednesday afternoon I sat him on it (much to his delight) and he probably sat there for 5 minutes just grinning from ear to ear. Of course, this means nothing else occurred, but I never expected that to happen. He is only 17 months and despite reading articles "Potty Train your Baby at 6 Months" I realize that not all babies are potty geniuses and the odds of my son being one is even less.
Thursday night it was time for a bath so I took Braxton in and got him undressed. He quickly tried to climb on the toilet so I sat him up there (probably 10 minutes this time). I spent a lot of time preventing excessive toilet paper being unrolled and put in the toilet. I finally scooped him up and stood him on the floor. Next thing I know, Braxton is lifting the toilet seat and climbing on the step stool. He stands there and sticks his belly forward (I wish I had a picture, it was so hysterical) so he could "aim". Nothing happens. Braxton looks down, then stands back up with his belly out. This repeats several times. After a couple minutes I just put him in the tub.
Absolute distress. Braxton starts crying. Not just crying, but extremely upset. Tears and everything. After about 20 seconds of this, he stops.... looks down....and starts peeing. Poor baby. Mom was just not patient enough. He obviously had the right idea and knew he could go, but he just couldn't get it coordinated in time. Maybe he will be a toilet genius afterall :-)
"Stephanie hates rice." This is something that most of you know and have even taken into consideration (without me around) when meal planning. Now this is not just a dislike for a particular food. I have lots of issues. I probably could benefit from some sensory integration therapy. Other things I can't stand: Loose Socks, Hair in my cheek, tapioca pudding, wool sweaters (or any other scratchy material), dry oatmeal, slimy food (looks and texture), wet toilet paper/paper towels (gagging does occasionally occur when I have to handle this), sandpaper... this is a quick list. I'm sure my friends and family can add to it.
It is possible that my sensory issues are from being a NICU baby, but I've about decided they are at least partially genetic. My argument: Grayson. His biggest challenge is the season change in wardrobe. Switching from pants to shorts or short sleeves to long sleeves (and vice versa) is always a nearly tear jerking event. Dad has found the solution.
A few weeks ago he had to put shorts on Gray for the first time of the year. His solution "But Shorts make you Faster". Who could have predicted that this would work for a little boy. Exactly why mom never figured this out. Another piece of wisdom that only another male could know.
On a side note: I've recently become a fan of this blog. http://averycan.blogspot.com/ I have great admiration for parents in their situation. It often reminds me that I can be a better mom. I have 2 healthy babies. When I first read this blog, I wasn't sure how to take it.... but there are so many hysterical comments I kept reading. I can see where they are coming from...increasing awareness and making their best effort to help their daughter experience some of life's greatest little events. I'm sure it ultimately doesn't matter what they do with her, she will just love them for all their love and attention.
Grayson: "Mom, when you get sweaty you have to drink lots of water. You have to have lots of water to poop. If you don't drink water when you get sweaty you wont get to make poop." Mom: "Yes Gray, you do need to drink water when you get hot and sweaty. Water is good for you" Grayson: "Yes. Water is good for me so that I can poop. I need to make a big poop so when we get home I need a lot of drink of water"
I imagine that I asked for this conversation since a couple weeks ago Grayson was in the bathroom yelling "MOM" (in a strained voice) "My poop is stuck" and I was frustrated he wouldn't drink water earlier after coming in from the playground at school. I answered him with "Well maybe if you had drank your water you wouldn't have that problem."
Grayson switched classrooms recently at school and has been coming home demonstrating lots of learning, which I LOVE! We have learned all about how he needs to blow his nose to get out mucus (not just snot), the trees are in our ENVIRONMENT, and lots more. But lately he has been talking about being dead. Not sure if this is just a phase or if something happened with a classmate's family and he has just picked up on it through playground gossip.
A couple weeks ago I mentioned that Grayson was carrying around a blanket that my mom had given him when he was first born. His Response:"Mom (big sigh and a look of... you have no idea what you are talking about mom). Grandma DeeDee is dead." His comment was so matter of fact, like there is no possible way she had given him the blanket because she is not here. He has no memory of her since he was so young when she passed away.
Last week we were driving down the highway and passed the cemetery. As we passed he got excited and said "Thats the flower garden where Grandma DeeDee is dead at". Not sure how he figured out she was "there" since I always just say it is where we go to put out flowers to remember her. I am glad that he views this as a garden though. Since the time he has been able to walk, he has ensured that there are 3 (exact number) pine cones mixed in with her flowers. Its been a cute tradition and I'll be sad if he every forgets it.
Then there was the Museum of Discovery. We went for a dinosaur exhibit. The first thing he says... "That dinosaur is dead. Where did his heart go when he died?" Thats a hard question to answer for a preschooler.
Probably one of the funnier stories.... his first swimming lesson. He was mostly excited (except for a few moments early in the morning where television was more important...this is where the new Angry Bird towel became important... yep I knew this might require a little coersion). He had his goggles on his head for a couple hours and wore his swim trunks all morning. His instructor convinced him to get in the water with her and he participated for the most part. Everytime she would shift her hand placement on him he would say "I don't want to die" in a very solemn serious tone. The funniest part ... he never seemed scared during their session and his poor teacher wasn't sure what to make of it all!
So...we too decided to be in the majority of people who purchased a Mega Millions ticket in hopes of having way more money that any people really need to survive. We did not win. As we were returning from the grocery store this weekend we passed a billboard that listed the current value of the jackpot (a barely worth a ticket 12 million - ha.) Dusty read it aloud and I commented that we donated to the winners (and scholarships of course). He noted that "well, our money went down the drain". Of course Grayson was paying attention.
Gray: Why did our money go down the drain? Dad: We played a game with money. Gray: What kind of game? Dad: A numbers game.
There were several attempts to explain this game to Grayson, but I'm not sure he ever really understood.
Gray: Well, when will our money come back up the drain?
He also had a great suggestion to teach us how to win, since we obviously lost by our own choice. He reports that he intended for us to take him home, let him get in his piggy bank (as any responsible parent would allow), and he would pick the letters we needed to win and we could use his money. Maybe that is our problem.... we picked numbers instead of letters.... and our 4 year old is now wanting to play the lottery.
+Devin+and+Grayson.JPG)
