Weekend of Adventure

Saturday we tried to make it to Darien, CT to see close friends of ours and their three kids. We wanted Monkey to meet their twin daughters (not too different in age) and their son, and we were looking forward to just hanging out with friends.

Alas and alack, it was not meant to be. In the midst of the parking lot also known as the freeway south of Stanford, Monkey puked all over herself. At the first available turnoff we hit a CVS for some (more) wipes, paper towels, and a clean Hanes tshirt (you know, boys underwear). And home again, home again, jiggity jig we went.

Sunday was much more fun. M's company had its family picnic up in Tarrytown. Back in the car we went (and yes, I had washed the puke off the carseat) and boy was it worth it!

The company went all out, renting those inflatable obstacle courses you see at Church picnics or the carnivals that pass through town. Monkey jumped and jumped and jumped and jumped. And then jumped some more. She loved it.

Lunch and four tattoos later, we were all in the car, covered in cotton candy and happy as clams. I wish we could do that every weekend!

Breakfast of champions

Lately, Monkey's breakfast of choice is.....hotdog buns. Arnold's hotdog buns, to be precise.

Yesterday they were on the counter by the toaster. So Monkey could see them and reached up to pull the bag off the counter. She's a self-service sort of gal. I.e., she has inherited her mother's extraordinary level of patience. The hotdog buns weren't there this morning, and Monkey literally crumbled to the floor in tears, unable to express her dread and sorrow that the world was ending RIGHT THAT MINUTE due to the lack of hotdog buns.

M figured out she might be looking for hotdog buns, and asked if that was what she wanted. Yes, came her whispery little reply, choking back the sobs as relief coursed through her veins. After an admonition to "use her words" and ask for hotdog buns instead of losing her shit ("one, two!" because she wants to hold something in each hand) the beloved doughy oblongs were obtained and all was well.

I feel sort of guilty letting her eat hotdog buns and grapes for breakfast. But really, how is that different than toast (and grapes) or bagels (and grapes)? Or even wheaties? It's all carbs, right?

All I can say is, thank god for vitamins!

Milwaukee, or where the dinosaurs roam

We spent this past weekend with probably our closest friends in the world, in their lovely home (don't believe the hype about the "crapshack") in Milwaukee, WI.

We had a blast.

Their daughter, aka Bunny, is obsessed with dinosaurs. She's also 8 months older than Monkey and, um, freakishly smart. So watching the two of them interact was awesome. And gave us a preview of what life will be like with two ankle biters/insane toddlers in the apartment.

Bunny would flip about which particular (anklyosauraus, for example) dinosaur Monkey was not allowed to touch and which she "didn't want to share"....Monkey would shrug like, ok, damn woman, I can't say that word so you can have your dinosaur all to yourself. Relieved, Bunny would recant her toddler ways and offer the toy up for inspection. It was hilarious! And adorable. Thankfully, Bunny is good at sharing and Monkey was really more obsessed with the rubbery lizards than the actual dinosaurs, so it all worked out well. But for the first ten minutes of our visit I thought it might get ugly.

Also, at first they did the whole parallel play thing. But soon, they were having actual conversations. To wit:

Bunny: What 'cha got?
Monkey: Got my blanket.
Bunny: Oh, ok.

I know, it doesn't sound like two geniuses in the making, but trust me...it was cool. They had a conversation! Like two kids do! Like OMG BFF!!! Awesome, all around.

Watch your language!

We all know this is the way it works, but sometimes it still startles me to hear Monkey repeat things we've said.

Lately she's been getting lots of rides on Daddy's shoulders. It is a way for them to have fun, and quite honestly we often get places faster that way (always a bonus with an inquisitive toddler whose favorite things are rocks! and questions about "what's that?".....both of which delay delay delay any efforts to walk. Anywhere. At any speed. Sigh.)

Since there always seems to be scaffolding up, often Monkey will be on Daddy's shoulders as we go underneath. At which point in time M will say "watch your head!" to tell her to duck.

I didn't think anything of it, until this morning on the way to school. I was pushing Monkey in her stroller, and just as we walked under some scaffolding she piped up and said "watch your head!" I started laughing. I mean, the scaffolding is at least 10 feet up above us....but still, got to watch your head!

Which is my reminder to myself....watch my language! So when that cabbie runs a red light and swerves at us (oh yes, that ALSO happened this morning and boy was I pissed) I need to not cuss. Eek.

Baseball Mania

Monkey is a baseball fan. It's official. And she is SO her daddy's daughter, it is amazing.

Saturday we drove down to Philadelphia and took in a Phillies Brewers game. Yes, M is a devout Brewers fan, what can I say (except go Yankees!). We met one of Matt's good friends and his wife and 10 year old son at the game. They live in Baltimore, so we both split the difference and met in the middle.

Monkey not only enjoyed herself, but we made it through 9 innings with her! She adores the Phillie's mascot, the Phanatic, asking where the "monster" was and laughing with delight when they showed the mascot on the big screen.

There was even a cool kids playground with slides and playground equipment. We would have stayed longer but they had to close it down after some kid puked down the circular slide. Eeeuw.

We sent Monkey to school this morning wearing her Phillie's "tattoo" (of the mascot, of course) and she was showing it off to her teacher when I left.

Now, if I could only talk M into getting Yankee's season tickets......

September 12th - Go Obama!

On September 12th, when we all go back to our daily lives and the rhetoric about patriotism, sacrifice, hope, faith, and service recede into the din of our every day lives, it might be good to look forward to the presidential election and think about who we want to elect as our leader.

I'm rather traditional in my manner (married, 1.6 kids, stable and loving family, insistence on grammer and manners, and only two tattoos in places you can't see without my permission and a lot of beer). But I'm very liberal. Not because I think that family values don't count, or that abortion is a good thing, and yes I even own guns (they're in my dad's gun safe, relax....), but because I don't trust that the Republican party will ever stand up for anyone other than themselves. It's too selfish. Too close minded. Too.....mean. Too concerned with their bottom line and not making sure the kids next door (or rather, next town over) have adequate health care, education, food, water, hell - have a chance to believe in themselves.

And don't even get me started about a woman who is willing to step into the spotlight and ensure her pregnant teenage daughter is on the cover of the Enquirer and endlessly discussed as an example of why abstinence only sex-"education" just doesn't work very well. (and yes, those quotation marks were on purpose. it isn't an education if it doesn't teach)

So here, read another mom's blog with her friends op-ed piece included in it. She's a better wordsmith than me: http://othejoys.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-come-from-family-of-heroes.html

9-11

Never again. That's my hope, my wish, my dream for Monkey and babygirlCarter#2. I don't want them to ever experience a 9-11.

She's his, all right

So occasionally I blog about how Monkey is like me. You know, likes being the center of attention, social, loves books, yadda yadda.

Well last night? She was daddy's little girl.

At one point she started asking (ok, whining) that she wanted to watch something on TV. M and I couldn't figure it out at first............but she wanted to watch baseball! My beloved Yankees weren't on, so we watched the Mets. And Monkey was seriously into it.

Then, M offered Monkey some edamame.......and she loved it. So much that M had to share the rest of his dinner with her! The two of them were eating edamame as fast as he could get the soybeans shucked. Soon, it'll be an edamame throwdown...you know, see who can eat more. Not that he would (*cough cough*) actually do that.

Two new (FUN) games in the Insane Household

So Monkey has two new games. She'd like to explain them to you....

1) Sneak up behind Ollie, our beloved geriatric (and, um, maybe not smart) cat and flick the hair on the top of her ears. Watch her ears twitch. Scream with delight. Repeat 300 times and act offended/traumatized when Ollie tries to bite you.

2) March up to mommy and yank up her shirt (preferably while in public). Attempt to push her distended belly button back into her stomach. Scream with delight. Repeat 300x. Act offended/traumatized when Mommy insists you desist.

What fun games do your insane toddlers like to play?

Repeat 300x

In case you were wondering what our weekends are like, imagine this conversation 300times an hour. All. Day. Long.

Monkey: Ready?
Mommy and/or Daddy: Sure. Ready for what?
Monkey: PLAYGROUND!

Sometimes this even starts before we lift her out of her crib in the morning, as she is scrubbing sleep from her eyes and pushing her hair back from her face.

Vignettes from our life

While at the New York Aquarium we saw a baby walrus. And it was HUGE. Yup, even bigger than little ole preggo-me. snort. Seriously - that thing was an adorable mass of blubber. Monkey, however, ignored the walrus in favor of the coin-swirling thing-a-ma-bobber...you know, you put the coin in at the top, it rolls around and around the cone, and you donate that coin to the aquarium. Of COURSE that's what she loved. Monkey headed straight for it and started begging for quarters.

So, we did what any reasonable parent would do. We told her to ask GrandDad.

**

Our fridge died last Friday night. As in hopelessly unable to keep anything cool, food in ruin and rotting. After a scramble and a superintendant who annoyed me (yet still saved the day) we ended up with a second fridge in our apartment - because the door to the kitchen is too narrow unless you remove the door from its hinges, which have been painted over with, I'm guessing, 15-20 coats of paint. I feel like Sanford & Sons....we have a fridge in our kitchen, empty save for a few crumbs, and a fridge in our dining room, full of our food. And, since the old fridge decided that after 3 days it would partially freeze water for ice cubes, the super decided to call a repair tech to try and fix it. No end in sight folks, no end in sight.

Maybe I can get a beat up old dishwasher in our dining room, too. You know, to work with our junk-shop decor. Sigh.

**

I made dinner with what hadn't spoiled the other night. And, since the frozen fish had thawed, I made orange roughy for dinner! Monkey declined to eat any of it, until Daddy pointed out that Mumble (aka Happy Feet) ate fish! Lo and behold.....she ate all of it.

M is a miracle worker.

Bittersweet

Last week (the "staycation") went by in a flash. Poof - gone.

And today, I dropped Monkey off at her first day of school (year #2!). She ran into the room without a second glance. I didn't even warrant a "bye" until I prompted her (loudly). I was so proud of her, watching her work the room as she greeted her friends.

As I rode the bus to work, I realized that this past week was the last time I would ever get to do something like that with my baby. That week, those precious few days, they were our last - ever - mommy & monkey time. Yes, we'll have weekends and things like Thanksgiving break, but still - that was the last uninterrupted week where it was just the two of us. Ever.

Because the next time we spend a week like that, I'll be caring for her little sister. And I know that I will love this second daughter with a fierceness that is unrivaled by anything except for my love of Monkey. My firstborn. My baby that has grown up so fast. It isn't that I am regretful or mournful that I'm pregnant with number two - the exact opposite. Her gentle kicks and nudges (and occasional wallops to the bladder) make me smile. I can't wait to meet her.

But today, today I realized that soon everything will change. Somehow I wish that Monkey would remember this time, this special mommy&me time. But I know that when she looks back at her childhood, at her earliest memories, they will likely revolve around her little sister. And that's a good thing.

The Adventures of Monkey and Mommy

Well, the staycation is going swimmingly.

This past weekend we: went to Coney Island and got sandy, Monkey fell/got dunked in the surf, we ate cheese fries at the original Nathan's hotdog stand, saw a baby walrus at the Aquarium, and our car didn't start on fire...it only smoked a bit. Um, yeah. So after a full day in the scorching sun (since even the Aquarium is outside), we stood in the parking lot with an insanely tired little girl and turned the motor on to try and figure out why the engine was smoking. And then drove home because no one (and by that I mean M and Grand Dad, Nana and I stood there impatiently shifting from foot to foot) could quite figure it out. We got home safe. And Monkey LOVES the ocean.

And that was only on Sunday!

On Tuesday I called in an emergency sitter to watch Monkey and drove the car out to Flatbush, Brooklyn to our mechanic. The highlight of that experience was the two guys (family members, I'd guess uncle/nephew) there who bantered exactly like the brothers in the Ocean's 11 (12 & 13) movies. As M put it, at first he thought they were in on the joke, but then he realized that they actually DID act that way towards each other! Odd, but funny.

Today we went to the zoo with Monkey's friends Daniel and Caleb. At one point the three of them were walking hand in hand. I about died from the cuteness of it all!

Tomorrow we go meet Monkey's teachers at her Montessori daycare (she's in the Purple room!) and then will play until it is time to have lunch with godmom Heather.

I need to keep a calendar open to make sure we do everything we said we'd do! This staycation is busy work, I tell you!