Some Random Pictures

Here are some of the pictures I tried to attach to my previous post:

Drew and Owen getting ready to blow out the candles. We were smart this year and took their shirts off before they could get them all dirty.
The football cake I made. Kinda hard to see the whole shape, but believe me; it's shaped like a football...
Proud little two-year-old Owen.
Happy little two-year-old Drew.
One of the little riding toys we got. Your feet go on the black spots, and you wiggle the handle and the thing moves forward or backward, depending on which way the handle is facing. So fun!

Two Down, 17 To Go*...

Drew and Owen are TWO years old! We survived another year! It was definitely a lot easier than the first year. Well, maybe not definitely. But for the most part, quite a bit easier. The birthday itself was pretty hectic. I didn't get many pictures taken, but I took a picture of the cake, and I took pictures of each of my birthday boys. My sister in law took pictures of Drew and Owen blowing out the candles, so I'll have to get copies of those from her.

All day long the boys were singing the birthday song. They were thrilled when everyone sang it for them and clapped when they blew out the candles (they didn't actually do it themselves; David helped). They loved their presents, too. David and I got them new coats (boring, I know) and two riding toys (these, they love. We love them, too; they actually hold up to 200 pounds, so we can ride them with the boys. Or without them). Cousin Westley gave Drew a little helicopter and Owen a little airplane. And the Colorado cousins sent cute Curious George stationary.

I was going to post pictures, but blogger is acting up. So maybe some other time.

*I figure the boys will live at home at least until they're 18, but I'm not going to officially kick them to the curb until they're 19... Actually, I'm hoping they'll decide to go on missions at that point. I guess even if they don't serve missions, or go away to college or get married, they can still live at home. But only 'til they're 30. That's the cutoff point.

Uncooperative Kids

Thanks, everyone for the toilet training advice! There were a lot of good ideas for me to mull over. I think I'm going to wait a while to really start the training, and for now I'll not press the issue. This evening, I noticed Drew sitting in the cupboard below the kitchen sink (nothing strange in and of itself). He was grunting a little and his face was red, so I asked him if he wanted to sit on the toilet. He got all excited, and ran to the bathroom. But once on the toilet, he did nothing. Just sat. But we had a little "conversation" about the bodily functions, so I figure at the very least, he's getting used to the concept. When Owen is given the opportunity to sit on the toilet, he generally declines, and Drew, overhearing us talk about it, always wants to have a go at it. And it's fine; we'll just leave it at this for a while.

I've been trying to get some pictures of the kiddies that I can put on my mantle. The ones I have of the boys have been up there for about a year and a half, so they're pretty out-dated. Samantha was actually fairly cooperative and these are the pictures I got of her.

Owen does okay for portrait-y pictures, but when he's doing something clever, he won't let me get a picture of it. For example, tonight he was walking around my room with my belt draped over his shoulders, wearing my shoes (on the wrong feet) and Vito's empty water dish on his head. And gross as the dog dish was, he just looked so darn cute. So I dashed to get the camera, and as soon as I got it turned on and was about to snap the picture, he dropped everything and just smiled demurely for me. But this is the closest thing to portrait shot I've gotten.

Drew seems to make the same face in every single picture. It cracks me up, but I also wish he would act more natural and less "cheesey." He's much cuter than this in real life. (that's Cousin Westley in the background)

Here are some random photos of all the fun we've been having around here lately:

Drew loves the glasses.

Owen loves the glasses.

Samantha doesn't love the glasses quite as much. Sorry, Drew. Maybe when she's a little bigger...

All the boys hanging out in the emergency pop-up tent. it's called the emergency pop-up tent, because we only bring it out when we absolutely can't think of anything else to do and everyone is going crazy ('cause it's a pain in the butt to put away).

"Just try to tell me that I'm too big for this exersaucer..." --Drew

What Happens Now?

I think I'm ready to start the boys' toilet training. The only thing is, I don't think they're particularly ready. It's not that I'm just tired of changing diapers, or paying for diapers (honestly, I was tired of that when the boys were about three months old*). It's just that we had an incident a couple days ago that made me really wish the boys knew how to recognise the signs and convey to me that it's time to use the toilet. And for some reason, the toilet is great fun to them until it's actually time for business. Then it becomes something scary...

As a side note, part of this story is one of the bits I had wanted to put in yesterday's post, and had forgotten about. I think my subconscious must have been willing me to forget, because it's actually a little gross. Read on, if you dare...

Flashback to bath time, two days ago. Drew and Owen were happily splashing in the tub, when Owen got a look on his face. I asked him if he needed to use the toilet. Of course he said no. I whisked him out of the tub anyway, and onto the Cushie Tushie (I'm really against training potties. I don't like the word potty, and more importantly, I really don't want to have to clean one). He sat there for about two minutes, 'til he looked really cold, then finally said he was done. But he had done nothing. So I put him back into the tub.

Not two minutes later, I noticed floaties in the tub. At this point, I had started feeding Samantha, and didn't really want to put her down, 'cause she'd been losing patience with me not paying attention to her. So with my one free hand I yanked the boys out of the tub and told them to just stand on the bath mat for a couple minutes while Samantha finished eating. They were really good and just stood there, looking into the tub. Then Drew yelled, "Ew! Snakes!" and pointed to the floaties. We all started laughing, though I think for different reasons. Then the boys thought it would be fun to throw bath toys on the floaties. I about puked.

It seemed like eternity, but Samantha finally finished eating and I was able to clean out the tub and finish bathing the boys.

So I guess the point of all this, if anyone is still reading, would be this: how do I start? What are some good ways to get kids more interested in using the toilet? And how do I help them recognise the urges? I just feel a little overwhelmed. I've heard everyone say, "Don't rush it; that will only prolong the process." But how do I encourage without everyone getting discouraged?

*It took me 'til my boys were about three months old to get sick of paying for diapers because up to that point, I hadn't had to buy any. I had a friend give me a couple boxes (as in boxes of packages) for a baby shower present (she worked at the hospital and got good deals), and another friend passed on all the diapers that her kid had grown out of that she hadn't used. So I didn't really have to buy diapers for a couple months. I have awesome friends!

Pickle, Pickle Star

I had a mental list of Funny Things the Boys Have Said running through my mind all day, and now I can't remember them! I'll just write the ones I do remember and maybe more will come as I type (most of them are Drew sayings, because he talks about 3 times as much as Owen)...

*On our way to the store tonight, Drew yelled, "I see 'em moon sky!" He's getting very good at putting words into sentences.

*Yesterday, Drew told David, "I watch football, too!" He ends a lot of sentences with the word "too." I've been trying to get him to exchange it for the word "please," which is almost always applicable. He also ends a lot of sentences with exclamation marks. He's a loud kid.

*Drew wanted to sing "Pickle, Pickle Star" before bed today. In real songs, that's "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

*Owen is more active than verbal. Last week, his cousin Westley taught him how to do a somersault. Today, I taught him how to jump off of a step with both feet, and how to do jumping jacks. His jumping jacks are really cute; I'll try to get a video to post.

Here are some words that the boys always mispronounce:

Fwap= Straw

Soosing= Sleeping

Manus (or Mayonnaise)= What Drew calls Marcus (his cousin)

Sassay= What Owen calls Westley

Fessie= What Drew calls Westley

Tac= Cat (they don't say this often; usually when they see a cat, they call it Kee Kee Kee, like they would if they were trying to get it to come to them. Or they just call it Merle, 'cause that's what we call our cat)

This is all I can think of for now. I'll have to jot stuff down on paper so I don't forget it before I can actually record it. When Drew and Owen are older, I want them to know how clever they were as kids!

I'm A Sap

I've always told myself (always as in ever since I've become a mom) that when it's time for my kids to start their school I will be rejoicing, and I won't be the mom who turns into a soggy mess of tears and running mascara. I still have a few years before the first day of school, but I suspect my resolve was slightly shaken today.

We went to the celebration of Marshall Public Library's 100th birthday. It was a lot of fun. They had different events throughout the day. The one we made it in time to see was a performing bull and his friend a performing donkey. The boys, animal lovers that they are, thought it was really cool. There was also free cotton candy, a trolley that went to the Union Pacific Railroad depot, and a little train made by McKee's pet store.

That little train is the reason I question my ability to remain tearless when the kiddies start school. We put the boys in their respective train cars and sat back to watch them ride around the parking lot. As I sat on the curb watching, I noticed how excited Drew looked and how proud of himself Owen looked. For some reason, I got all teary-eyed (and I'm getting that way now, as I'm typing). It was a weird feeling to see my kids looking so "big."

So now, as I analyze my feelings, I'm thinking that parents don't necessarily cry because they're sad to see their kids go (I think the reason I would rejoice is because I'd hopefully get a few quiet hours to get stuff done while my kids are at school), but because they are proud of their kids and the kids' increased independence. That's how I felt, anyway, as I watched my little boys ride around that parking lot without me, enjoying themselves thoroughly.

I Owe David Steak

I guess my blog has really taken a back burner; I'm way behind on writing, and haven't made it over to friends' blogs, either. It kind of bums me out, because blogging is one of my unwind activities to keep me from getting too wrapped up in things (I just have to make sure I don't get too wrapped up in blogging...).

Things have been going pretty well. I've been busy, but it's a good thing. Rather than try to recap everything that's happened the last week or so, I'll just start fresh with tonight...

I'm not a gamblin' kind of gal, but David does like to gamble--he likes Craps and Blackjack, and likes to bet on sports sometimes. Tonight, watching Monday Night Football, I decided to act like I knew what was going on and assert my confidence that the Buffalo Bills would beat the thus far undefeated Dallas Cowboys. David said "I'd bet money that the Cowboys win by a landslide. Would you like to make a wager?" Normally, in this situation, I retreat and just watch the game quietly. But I felt feisty today, so I said, "Sure. What will the stakes be? How 'bout steaks?" So it was decided that if the Bills won, David would take me to Texas Roadhouse tomorrow (I was supposed to go for my birthday dinner, but we still haven't made it over yet, cause it's always packed there). If the Cowboys won, I would make David a steak dinner. He pointed out the fact that he's paying either way since I don't have a job, so I told him I wouldn't make myself any steak, I'd just watch him eat his.

The game was very close, and very exciting. And with two seconds remaining, the Cowboys won by a point. So I'll be cooking steak and blogging will, once again, be put on the back burner.

Mommy's Helpers

I've been trying to give the boys little responsibilities such as putting their clothes in the hamper, picking up general clutter in their room, putting their dishes in the sink, putting toys in the toy box, et cetera. They've been doing really well, so far. I don't let them put books away, though, because I like them to be put on the bookshelf a certain way and so far I'm the only one in the house who does it "right" (I guess I have slight OCD issues when it comes to books).

Today I let Owen help me put clothes in the dryer. He acted like I was doing him a favor. Every time I handed him a bunch of clothes to put in, he said, "Thanks. Thank you." It cracked me up. Now if only they could help fold the clothes without the living room ending up looking like a tornado hit...

I took Samantha to her two-week checkup. I didn't take Drew or Owen with me. I took them with me last week to the growth checkup, and they were hell on wheels. Drew kept opening the door to our room and slamming it shut, then he opened it and ran up and down the halls. The good thing was, the pediatricians are used to kids and didn't seem to mind. But they looked a little relieved when I showed up with only one kid today.

Samantha is chunkin' up quite nicely. She put on 8.5 ounces in the last week. Her doctor is really nice. He always gives much needed words of encouragement, such as calling me an "experienced Mom." It's nice to hear, because even though this is kid #3 for me, I feel like two years is a long time and I've forgotten what to do with a baby. Also, I'm not sure how to handle just one. But I guess so far, it's going well. We have a healthy, chunky baby and two healthy, (very) chunky toddlers, and nobody's maimed anybody yet...