Trick or Treat

Halloween: Take one.

This post is currently just for the pictures (please don't die of shock). I'm going to edit it later when I have more time to describe in detail what we did. But for the record, our Halloween celebration was so intense that we had not one, not two but THREE days of trick-or-treating, which (in true mousey style) required not one but TWO different costumes. (And if you count a different shirt the third day, it was actually three different costumes. We don't do anything halfway around here.) And futhermore, LM was a part of our celebration(s), but seeing as we have my awesome cool neighbor to thank for these pictures, she did not capture LM so you'll just have to wait on that. Without further adieu...
BigM: Day One.

She was a hula dancer. And she told everyone "Aloha" instead of Trick-or-treat, which earned her extra candy.

BigM: Day Two.

This time, she was a ballerina fairy, whatever that is. I still have no idea what that was all about, but she sure did look cute.

And I just noticed in this picture that she swiped LM's "boo bucket". Why, I'll never know because LM did not get any candy. The "boo bag" was filled to the brim.

What's for Supper?

I just asked BigM if she would help me make supper and she said, "Sure. What are we having?"

Chicken and Asparagus Casserole.

{Confused look.} "We can't have that, that's yucky."

How do you know you don't like it? We've never had it before, it's a new recipe.

"But I don't like it. That's gross."

She's having a plain piece of bread for supper. But she's still going to help me make it.

You can pick your friends...

LM has a new trick! You say, "Where's your nose?" and one little finger heads straight up to the knuckle every single time.

We're not doing a very good job to discourage her because we all crack up laughing every time she does it. And then we ask her to repeat it.

(I made a video and if I can figure out how to load it on here, I'll share. Don't hold your breath.)

Oldie but Goodie

Recently (at the wedding DM skipped out on) I saw my very first BFF from when I was about BigM's age. She and BigM actually share the same name (which incidentally I'm sure you have figured out is *not* BigM)- but their name is not the most common name. (No, I don't have a child named Sophie, Ava or Madison.) BigM is actually truly named after my mom- her maiden name.

We also realized that we live about 15 mins from each other, despite the fact that we haven't talked in at least 13 years. So we decided to schedule a playdate because she has 3 children and her youngest two are the same age as my mice. How's that for weird?

We arrived at their house and all the kids got down to business- her older boys and BigM started playing kitchen and airplanes and her youngest and LM were playing "That's MY sippy cup" and "I want to ride the ladybug scooter."

The kids got along beautifully and after awhile her oldest brought out his truck collection that his grandmother gave him. He looked at me and divulged in a hushed voice, "These trucks are REAL old. They're from the 1900's!"

I looked at my friend and said, "You realize we are too?"

I knew it was stupid to turn 30.

Now you see me...

Last night marked the first official slumber party at Lolli and Pop's for both of my little mice. BigM was so excited about it that she asked me if they could go on over right after breakfast. It's safe to say LM wasn't quite as excited.

In general, I'm pretty strict about their bedtimes and the mice are usually in bed, asleep by 7:3o at the very latest. (This comes from BigM not napping at all and LM being the type of person who requires a lot of sleep) but since the beginning of time, when BigM stays at L&P's they let her stay up late. I don't mind, most of the time. Aren't grandparents supposed to break all the rules?

Last time BigM stayed with Lolli, Lolli didn't realize one must make her sit on the potty immediately before bed, or someone is going to be changing sheets in the middle of the night.

So, having learned from past experience, last night Lolli encouraged BigM to go potty right before bed. BigM (in typical BigM fashion) said, "I don't need to go. I don't want to go." (At which point I usually say, "Okay. You don't have to go, but please go sit on the potty and try. If you don't go, that's fine, but if you don't at least try, you'll probably wet the bed." And BigM always always goes potty after my little speech.) Pop intervened and took a different approach.

"If you go potty, I'll give you a bite of my ice cream with some chocolate syrup."

And BigM said, "Even if my mommy and daddy can't see me, God still can."

I'm kind of glad she views sweets as a sin. This will help me explain why she can't have brownies for breakfast when she's older.

(And just so you know, after they laughed, they explained that sugar isn't the devil- despite what I've indoctrinated her with- and Mommy and Daddy wouldn't mind if she had a bite of ice cream. BigM pottied and got her ice cream- everyone wins!)

Par-lay-voo...

BigM and I adore the Fancy Nancy book series. BigM even has a pretty sizable "ensemble" (that's a fancy word for "bunch of outfits") of Fancy Nancy dressup clothes, and at least once a week we have a tea party where we call each other "dahling" and point our pinkies out while we sip our air tea.

Tonight we read Nancy's alphabet book (the actual title eludes me- and that's a fancy word for "can't think of it") and if you're a fan, you're already aware that Nancy adores everything French. So when it came time to say prayers, BigM decided she wanted to talk to God in French. I don't speak French, but I'm positive God does, so I know He understood her prayers tonight, even if I didn't.

"Ab-ba-da-ba-ca-ba-lab-ah-doe. Mack-a-lack-a-tack-a-dack-a-go."
What's that mean?
"There's a hairbow."
Um, okay? Thank you for hairbows?
"Yep. San-a-ban-a-dan-a-ran-a-lan-a-man-a-ban-a-pot. Cack-a-lat-a-ban-a-panda-make-a-rake-a-sack-a-bo."
So, what does that mean?
"Ceiling fan."
Thank you for my ceiling fan?
"Yehhh-eeeessss."
All right then. How do you say 'In Jesus name we pray, Amen?'
"Moo-ka-doo-ka-rula-doola-pake-a-say-da-eek-a-lo."

I certainly didn't learn THAT in any of my foreign language classes.

Excuses, excuses.

DM and I left the little mice for our first overnight trip this past weekend. (I actually just realized that as I was typing this! Wow! So not only do I need to post this hilarious story, I also can document that they do not need us as much as they used to. Should I be sad, or tell you we will be spending the night out again this next weekend? Apparently we got a little taste of freedom and we're running with it. Okay, rabbit trail over.)

A childhood friend of mine got married on Saturday, so after hosting a yard sale in our garage that morning, we raced to my parents' house over an hour away, rolled in on two wheels to get dressed as fast as we could so we wouldn't be late, and as we were changing, DM realized

he

forgot

his

suit pants.

Had I not know better, I would swear he did it on purpose. He truly is a trooper accompanying me to weddings and parties for people he doesn't know, but quite honestly, aside from my parents, me and my high school BFF, he wouldn't know anyone there. I do think he met the bride once in passing a few years ago, but if they had to pick each other out of a line-up, let's just say we hope their lives wouldn't be depending on it.

So, yes, my husband got to stay home, in his comfy clothes to drink beer and watch football without any kids (or even his wife!) around. Could his deal get any sweeter?

I planned on telling everyone, "My husband isn't here. One of our children has a fever, "which incidentally are two completely true, yet separate sentences but when you string them together, they seem like a much better excuse. In all reality, I told everyone who would listen because it was a funny and acceptable excuse not to attend the wedding of two people you don't even know.

Shop till you Drop

Today Sassy and I took BigM shopping! Kohl's was having a super sale, and seeing as I have a Kohl's card and I got the 30% off coupon in the mail, we both knew it was time for a little retail therapy. (In all actuality, we don't have any real need for therapy, but a girl needs to shop every once in a while, right?) When it was all said and done, I spent $185. BUT, I SAVED $265! Anyone impressed?

I was able to finish all our Christmas shopping for the kids, mine and the others I have to buy for. I got a couple shirts for myself, which I desperately needed. You would agree if you saw my closet. I cleared out everything that doesn't fit and I was left with 4 pairs of pants (1 jeans, 1 gray cargo, 1 khaki capris and a pair of black slinky maternity pants. Am I supposed to be excited by the fact that 15 months after the birth of my youngest child I am STILL. WEARING. MATERNITY. PANTS?!?!?!?) As for shirts, I have 2 cotton t-shirts, a bunch of long-sleeved wool sweater sets and 1 sleeveless polo. In all reality, I more desperately need pants, but hey, 4 shirts for less than $50 is a good start, right? Especially when I plan to slim up a bit if LM ever decides I am not a milk factory. She is NOT nursing past 2. I'd say 18 months, but that's like next week!

BigM was such a trooper, and despite the fact that we spent about 30 minutes too long in the toy section, I was able to slip in all the toys, literally right under her nose without her knowing about it. Sassy and I had a covert operation going on- BigM would say "Wook, I wike dat!" I would distract her with the next greatest toy and Sassy would walk around the shelves and slip said "wiked" toy into our cart.

Since she was so well-behaved, I told her on the way out of the parking lot that if she wanted a treat, we could stop at Donald's for a milkshake. Her response?

"Okay, I'd wike a pink one. And tan I get my haircut short wike daddy's so I won't eat it?"

That kid just cracks me up. She has a really bad habit of chewing on the ends of her hair (don't worry, it makes me want to vomit a little bit too) so I am constantly reminding her not to put her hair in her mouth. Maybe a buzz cut IS the answer. I told you that kid is smart.

All I Want for Christmas...

For the longest time, LM had no teeth. If I remember correctly, she got her bottom teeth around 11 months (which is probably wrong, but if you really want a precise date, feel free to scroll back through because I do know I posted when it happened. I'm certainly not going to do that, but if you're a detail-oriented person, go for it.)

According to Doctor Mouse, she was supposed to get the ones on either side of the existing teeth. Well, just because your dad is a dentist does not mean you will follow the charts to the letter. The next ones were the two front teeth.

Now she has a mouth full. She got five, yes FIVE! more teeth in the last three weeks, and one of them is a molar. DM says she isn't supposed to get that one until her second birthday but seeing as someone put fertilizer on her gums, she is now ahead of the game.

And wouldn't you know, she's getting a matching molar on the other side. I'm so so lucky and thankful that she doesn't get fussy when she's growing teeth- but instead she just stays awake at night. For hours. Cooing and giggling and saying, "uh-oh" repeatedly over the monitor, which is adorable. However, at one in the morning, that is not. cute. at. all.

I hope one of them does something more interesting soon, because while this is a very informative post, it certainly doesn't rank very high on my list of things I want to read about and it's about MY kids.

Stairmaster

BigM was never a climber. She didn't climb on anything until she was about 2 and I had to encourage her to even attempt to scale the steps up to the slide. Once she figured it out, there was no stopping her, but even then, she didn't try to climb on things she wasn't supposed to climb on. She still doesn't.

LM, on the other hand, was climbing before she was walking. A few weeks ago, I made some cookies (and I wasn't being domestic, they were the break and bake- a mom's best friend!) and BigM was helping me so her stool was still propped by the counter. The first batch was cooling on the rack and LM toddled over to the stool and started climbing. I really truly didn't think she could or would actually do it, but before I knew it, she was standing on the top step, reaching for a warm cookie. She turned around and sat down, because she wasn't exactly sure how to get down. I had to reward her persistence, so of course I let her have the cookie. (Don't worry, I was standing right behind her, just in case.)

And last week while we were at Sassy & G-Pop's house, she took off down the hall and started climbing the steps to their playroom- she high-tailed it straight up those steps like she'd been doing it her whole life. (They have carpeted steps, we don't.) Normally at our house, she climbs the first step and sits on it, playing with whatever she happens to have in her hands at the time.

Well, this morning, she raided the tupperware lid drawer (seeing as we didn't put a cabinet lock on that one) and I ran upstairs to grab clothes for the mice to wear. I was in LM's room and I heard this "slap, thump, slap, thump, slap, thump..." and ran to the top of the steps. Where I found LM about 3/4 of the way to the top, carrying 2 tupperware lids. I jumped down behind her and she continued on her way to the top, where she stood up and toddled into her room.

Great. Awesome. Yay. Apparently LM has mastered her environment. It's only a matter of time before this kid climbs out of her crib, I'm sure of it. I've started closing the gate to her room, just in case, because I don't think she'll be able to get down the stairs as easily as she can get up them.

Smug as a Bug in a Rug

I've been a mommy for 3 years, 5 months, 1 week and 3 days. I have tons of mommy friends- tons. I always cringe a little bit when I hear some of them talk about little junior not sleeping through the night or when their poor kiddos fuss because they are teething- and especially when I hear of lil' buddy pooping in the bathtub. After offering my condolences, I smugly think to myself, "I'm so lucky those things never happen to me."

It's not good to be smug. LM pooped in the bathtub tonight. And not the kind that would float and you could quickly scoop out yourself and then just disinfect up to your armpit. Yep, it was runny and squishy and there were pieces of it everywhere in their bathtub and... well, that's about all I can say about it without throwing up in my mouth a little bit. (You're welcome for that mental image, by the way.)

On a positive note, it was time to give the bathtoys a good scrub down anyway, so they are currently drying out by the kitchen sink, before they take a spin through the dishwasher.

I'm hoping it will be at least another 3 years, 5 months, 1 week and 3 days before I relive that experience. Next time it happens to you, I promise I will be more sympathetic and supportive. I'll even bring you a pair of rubber gloves for cleaning out your tub.