dad of the year

After an unexpected week away from this blog (for no real reason other than I just didn't feel like writing much of anything), I'm jumping back in with a quick post for the husband ...

Happy (belated) Father's Day to one of the best dads I know ...

A dad who (even in the midst of an uncooperative three-year-old) makes it look easy and is loved so incredibly much every day of the year!

train wreck

We took Malcolm to a "Day Out with Thomas" event over the weekend and witnessed the (unexpected?) highs and lows of a three-year-old in the span of a half hour.

I think the following photos sum up the experience quite nicely ...

Photo #1: Too much excitement leads to an all-out kicking and screaming melt down, and some tears.

Photo #2: The train is coming back into the station?  Wait a minute ...  This is fun!

Photo #3: Being cooperative and actually posing for pictures (with Gordon, his favorite engine) ... Maybe he wants to come again next year?

 

You've got to love the roller coaster that is life with a three-year-old ... 

As much as I like to complain (commiserate?) about it, I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world!

chemistry cutie

It's never too early to start learning about the periodic table ...

Especially when it is in the form of a cute onesie that  was passed down from your big brother!

My girl's got beauty and brains!

bundled boy

Since Pearl had her very own photo-inspired Haiku last week, I thought it only fair to give Malcolm the same courtesy ...

Adult ski mask?  Check!
Winter coat, gloves, and boots?  Check!
Eyes for seeing?  Uh ...

hungry for haiku

And now ...

A haiku inspired by the following picture:

Dinner time with Pearl,
Avocado, and "the bird."
Just your average night.

in the fish bowl

I wanted to take some photos of our (clean and uncluttered!) house after the realtor came through to take his pictures ...

But, in the time it took me to grab my camera, a certain someone had already emptied her bucket of toys across the living room floor!

Oh well.

I knew it wouldn't last long ...

the wild card

I never liked playing cards.

(I have only ever done so begrudgingly.)

But, with two kids, some of the terminology seems to fit.

For example, no matter what we are doing or where we are going, someone over here ends up being the "wild card" ...  The kid that does the opposite of what you expect and completely surprises you.

Think Pearl will be happy and well-rested for that Christmas party?

Wild card!

Think Malcolm will be uncooperative during a professional portrait session?

Wild card!

And that's where this post is headed ...

Last weekend, I took Malcolm and Pearl out to the local portrait studio to get some shots for Pearl's ninth month and, hopefully, some nice ones of the two of my children together.

While Pearl performed as I expected her to (for the most part), and Malcolm was a bit of a stinker throughout the entire session, I was completely blindsided by the adorable photos (of Malcolm!?) that I ended up taking home ...

Dress shirt: Cherokee ($10.00)

Clip-on tie: Cherokee ($4.00)

Pinstripe Vest: Unknown brand (thrifted for $1.00)

Jeans: Arizona Jean Co. (thrifted for $1.00)

Socks: Unknown brand (hand-me-down)

Shoes: Smart Fit (hand-me-down)

But, lest you be too impressed, there is photographic evidence of some less-than-cooperative behavior as well ...

Wild card, indeed.

censorship

Lately, whenever I tell Malcolm to do something that he doesn't want to do (or say something that he doesn't want to hear), I'm greeted with the following statement:

"Mom, don't say that word!"

(It's like the new and improved version of "me don't like!")

That word.

I have to chuckle whenever he does it.

"What word, Malcolm?"  I want to ask.

Although I know the answer.

That word refers to many words.  Many words that seem to be in my vocabulary a lot lately ...

No, you may not jump on the couch.

Let's take a quick trip to the potty.

Stop taking those toys away from Pearl.

You need to wait for lunchtime.

We'll play with your trains later.

It's still nighttime, you need to go back to your bed.

We're going to get dressed now.

It's time to turn off the TV.

Truthfully, that word could stand in for just about anything, given Malcolm's yo-yoing emotions and changing attitudes these days ... But, nonetheless, it cracks me up.

All of the minor fits and three-year-old stand-offs are totally worth it as long as he keeps chiding me for the use of "that word."

The things he continues to come up with ...

the brain of a three-year-old

Like magic, when he hit his third birthday, my usually-agreeable kid turned into a hard-to-please force to be reckoned with.

Lately, Malcolm has taken to using the phrase "me don't like!" over and over again ... And while it is adorable to hear him say it, it is getting old really quickly!

Here is just a sampling of the things that Malcolm says he "doesn't like" ...

His mom.

His dad.

Any one of the usual videos that he watches.

Not being able to watch one of said videos.

The dark.

Having to turn a light on.

Eating dinner.

Being told that he has to wait for dinner.

Taking a bath.

Getting out of the bath.

Playing with his toys.

When Pearl grabs one of his toys.

Wearing his "big boy" training pants (and using the potty).

Wearing a diaper.

The child is a walking contradiction!

He even cried the other day because he wanted to wear socks, but be barefoot.

At the same time.

It makes my head hurt to think about it!

I guess that's why, as adults, we don't remember the early years of our lives.  We're better off thinking that things were simpler, easier, better back then ...

Not that they were wrought with such conflicting emotions!

stinker

As much as I like to dangle shiny little incentives (literally or figuratively) in front of my son to get the best out of him, I've learned many times over that Malcolm can't be bought.

He is too smart for that ...  And here's a little story to prove it ...

While spending the night at my parents' house, my Mom told Malcolm that if he peed on the big boy potty (Ah, yes!  Potty training is in full, if not slightly leisurely, effect over here!) she'd give him a new truck, but if he pooped on the big boy potty, she'd give him a big new truck.

Apparently, he thought on this for a moment as he played, then suddenly asked my Dad: "Grampa (although he says it more like "Ka-pa")? I poop on potty, I get big truck?"

When my Dad agreed that that was, indeed, the deal, Malcolm removed himself from the room, went to his potty (with some help from my mother), and proceeded to poop the tiniest of barely-there poops on it ...  And then he waited for his big truck!

You'd think my entire family (and anyone else that spends a moderate of time with Malcolm) would know by now, that you really do have to watch what you say to him. 

He doesn't forget.

Ever.

And he holds you to your promises.

But, luckily (for us!), he is also easy-going ...

So, he accepted the new, little truck without protest.

(Photo courtesy of my Dad's iPhone)

Maybe, next time, my parents will be more specific in describing their expectations.

that kid

Malcolm will turn three in a couple of weeks, so I thought it was time to get him out of the house and involved in some "pre-school" activities. 

I by no means expect him to sit down and pay attention for long spans of time, but I figured the interaction with other (non-family) kids his own age and (non-family) adults in charge could be beneficial ...  So, when I saw a $20 Groupon a couple months ago for a local Performing Arts Studio touting a month's worth of little kid gymnastics classes, I jumped on it.

Fast forward to this past Monday and Malcolm's first class.

Let's just say it went pretty much as expected ...

Not well.

For starters, Malcolm and I arrived fashionably early.  While I tried to fill out the emergency contact (and other) forms, he ran around the main area of the center like a wild man.  He jumped down stairs, chased little girls (decked out in their leotards), and rolled around the floor.  He was ready. 

And we still had about fifteen minutes to wait.

Then, when we got to the gym room, his little eyes quickly darted to the colorful wedges and mats ...  And balance beam.  He wanted to explore!  And climb!  RIGHT NOW!

But, alas, we still had to wait.

Finally, the big moment ...  The teachers called all of the children to the center of the room and asked them to form a circle.  Malcolm ventured to the edge of the huge, blue mat, then ran right back to me, tears streaming down his face.

He didn't want to join the kids.

He didn't want to sit.

I let him crab over by me (in the parents' holding area) for a while, and ever so slowly, he started to inch back out toward the group.  They were all acting like fish now ...  "Swimming" around the room and doing a bunch of silly movements ...  Yet it still wasn't meant to be.

Again, he came, crying, to my side and watched from a safe distance.

About twenty minutes into the fifty minute class, when the colorful parachute made it out on to the floor, his interest was piqued again ...  And, this time, he ran out with the group and jumped around on the periphery.

And that's pretty much how he spent the rest of his time ...  Bouncing (rolling, jumping, kicking, spinning, climbing) around on the periphery. 

Even when the other kids were broken off into small groups to try the different pieces of gymnastics equipment, he did his own thing, moving from group to group (as they had specifically been told not to do) and basically causing all kinds of mischief.

He was that kid.

The one that is all over the place.

The one that is having an absolute blast (but that isn't listening).

The one that needs someone to bring him back to earth.

The one that the other parents are probably talking about.

And, you know what?

That's okay.

He is still only two, after all ... 

And while he may be taller than most of the other kids, he is probably younger than them, too.

He isn't quite ready for this whole "pre-school" thing.

I definitely see that now.

So, we'll finish out our month of classes (I wonder what next Monday will bring?!) and then we'll take a break.

And maybe try again in a few months ...

photo bombing brother

This "photo shoot" was supposed to be about Pearl.

Onesie: Old Navy ($4.00)

Skirt: Small Wonders ($3.00)

But someone (who shall remain nameless) came downstairs and discovered me with my camera ...

"Mom!  Look at me!"  he shouted as I tried to engage my youngest child.

"Me too!  Look at me!  Me do it, too!"  he yelled as he strategically placed himself between Pearl and my lens ...

And proceeded to do "tricks" on the couch ...

 

Tee-shirt: Sesame Street (gift)

Shorts: Carter's (gift)

It's a good thing he's so darn cute!

budding naturalist

Malcolm went to the zoo on Monday and enjoyed checking out the local wildlife with some binoculars ...

Little did he know he could have seen a lot more if they were turned the right way!

seven years and counting

Our marriage is many things (in no particular order) ...

Loving.

Supportive.

Fun.

Humorous.

Exciting.

Comfortable.

Easygoing.

Collaborative.

Blessed.

But it's not itchy.

Definitely not itchy.

lessons learned on our first family trip

At the end of last week, my husband and I packed up the kids for a long weekend in Erie, Pennsylvania.  It was only a two hour drive, and, since we've been there many times before, it was easy to come up with inexpensive activities to occupy ourselves ...  Among them were visits to the Erie Zoo and Waldameer Park.

Although I would consider the trip a success, we learned a couple important lessons that we'll certainly keep in mind whenever we decide to round up our kiddos and take to the road ...

Lesson #1: Hotels with pools provide lots of warm-weather entertainment at little cost.

Lesson #2: Some family portraits are actually fun to take ... All you need is a camera with a self-timer.

Lesson #3: Getting the two-year-old to ride on one (non-kiddie) ride should be considered an achievement.

Lesson #4: Just because he enjoys the local zoo, doesn't mean he likes all zoos ...

Lesson #5: You can't really call it a "vacation" when there are two kids involved, but that doesn't make it any less fun!

then and now (boppy edition)

Just for fun ...

Then (December 2009):

Now (June 2012):

Where has the time gone?!

a lesson in babywearing

Are you dad enough?

playing parrot

As Malcolm becomes more verbal, I've come to the realization that I need to watch what I say around him.

Just the other afternoon, we were both in the master bedroom as I got dressed for the day.  I pulled out a (non-maternity) shirt from my dresser and proceeded to put it on.

"Ugh.  Too tight!"  I said to my reflection in the mirror as I removed the shirt and put it away.  I guess I'm not quite "there" yet when it comes to getting back into some of my old wardrobe options ...  Being between sizes stinks!

Jump ahead a couple days to when my husband, Malcolm, and I were all in the master bedroom together (Pearl was sleeping in her room, just so you don't think we intentionally left her out!).  We weren't doing anything specific ...  I think I was putting laundry away and my husband was cleaning up from work.  Malcolm was just hanging out with us, milling around and climbing on and off of the bed.

"Too tight!"  He exclaimed out of nowhere.  "Green ...  Too tight!"

My husband, not knowing what he was talking about, looked puzzled.

I, however, had to smile.

Someone was paying attention to my clothing dilemma!

While (obviously) no big deal, I can see that this is just the start of something much, much greater in our household.  All too soon, we'll have a parrot on our hands.  A little person repeating anything and everything that we say.

It's just another reminder that Malcolm is growing every day.

He is not the baby of the house anymore (both literally and figuratively).  He is turning into a "big boy" through and through, and, before I know it, I'll be having conversations with him.

What a crazy thought!

It's almost as crazy as me thinking I'd fit into one of my "normal" shirts less than two months after giving birth ...

totally typical

Put these two together and you're bound to see at least a few shenanigans ...


Even on (an otherwise subdued) Easter Sunday!

before we knew

It's hard for me to recall the days before I knew I had a little passenger riding along with me, now that I'm so far along in the journey.

Yet, as I was looking through some old photos on the computer the other day, I found an amusing little collection from the time between getting pregnant and actually knowing we were pregnant ...



Getting past the pure ridiculousness of it all, there is definitely a bit of blissful ignorance in the shots ...

Lighthearted good fun ...

Happiness on film ...

In these sequential photos (an obvious test of my camera's continuous shooting mode) I see my husband and myself, living in the moment ... Thoroughly enjoying a little family walk and deliriously jubilant that the whole "one kid" thing was working out so swimmingly (we hadn't screwed him up yet!) for us.

Little did we know, that comfortable little family unit within the pictures we took would be growing ...

That, only a couple of weeks later, we'd come to understand that we'd be increasing our numbers. That three would become four.

Ignorance long gone (there's no mistaking the fact that I am pregnant now!), it's nice to sit back and realize that all the joy (and dorkiness) of that ordinary day has remained ... And that it will only increase once our newest passenger has arrived.