'Tis the season

If you ask most people what season it is, they'll say it's winter.

I'd say they're wrong. It's spring consignment sale season!

I went to my first spring sale yesterday evening. Jeff had to a basketball game (tired of reading that yet?!?), so Biscuit and I headed over to a Presbyterian church downtown. I lucked into an early-bird shopping ticket, and I was glad because by the time I got to this same sale back in the fall, everything was pretty well picked over.

A male friend of mine from work was taking tickets at the front door. When Biscuit and I arrived, I introduced the two of them to each other.

My male friend is kind of a big guy, so he didn't notice that Biscuit had stepped forward and held his hand out for a shake. So Biscuit pulled his hand back a little bit then looked at me like he didn't know what to do next.

"Did you want to shake his hand?" I asked. Biscuit nodded his head.

"I'm sorry," my friend said, as he stepped forward and reached his hand out toward Biscuit.

"It's nice to meet you," Biscuit said. And I was very, very proud of him. He was quite the little gentleman.

"That's a nice grip, little man," my friend said. He got a big smile from Biscuit.

Following one of the most important laws of motherhood, I had a bowl of Goldfish in my pocketbook, so I sat Biscuit down under one of the racks and gave him his snack. He sat there and people-watched. Then he saw that they had toys.

"Mom, when you're done, can we go see the toys?" Biscuit asked.

He was being so good, I said, "When I'm done with the clothes, you can pick out a toy to take home."

I got a big smile for that.

We went over to the toy section, and Biscuit immediately honed in on two fire stations. I don't know if I've mentioned it, but Biscuit is crazy nuts over anything to do with firefighters. He looked between the fire stations like he was watching a tennis match.

"Can I get both of them, Mom?" he asked.

"No," I said. You have to pick one."

"I don't know, Mom," Biscuit said. So I picked up the one I thought had more to offer and started selling it to him. "This one has a door that goes up and down. It also has a ramp for the firetruck to roll down."

He finally made up his mind, and we headed to the checkout. I usually have to fight my way through the crowd, swap places with 6 or 8 other women and stand in line for at least half an hour to check out. But with my super-special-early-bird pass, I got in the checkout line with one person in front of me.

We got four pairs of shorts, four shirts, an outfit, a book and the fire station for $25. A pretty good haul.

A friend of mine is a master at these sales. She even sent me a list in chart form this past week. I don't think I can top her sales skills, but it'll be fun to try.

Toddler food

It seems like kid food has been a busy topic this week. 

One of my friends at work was complaining on one of the social networks about how unhealthy the choices are for kids at restaurants. There were a lot of people who commiserated with her and a few who made suggestions of food alternatives at restaurants.

Then today, I was talking with another friend who said she basically has to force her 2-year-old to eat these days. He used to be a great eater, fruits and veggies and a lot of other stuff. Now, he doesn't seem to care even for some of his favorite things.

I can identify with both friends.

It seems like most restaurants offer chicken nuggets and fries, grilled cheese sandwich with fries or hamburger with fries. And that's fine, except that Biscuit doesn't eat grilled cheese sandwiches. Biscuit only eats hamburgers every once in a while (there's never a guarantee of when that every once in a while is, either). So that leaves chicken nuggets and fries as his only options at a lot of restaurants.

One restaurants we like has honey chicken that Biscuit LOVES. It's an Asian restaurant, so the honey chicken comes with rice and broccoli. Biscuit won't eat rice or broccoli. So the last time we went there, I baked a sweet potato, scooped it out and put it in a bowl with a little butter and cinnamon. I took the bowl of sweet potatoes out of my pocketbook, cut up the chicken on Biscuit's plate, and he was happy as a clam.

And I totally understand where the other mom was coming from, too. There used to be so many things Biscuit would eat that he won't even touch now. And to make matters worse, he'll look at food he doesn't like and say, "Eeeewwww!" Oh, I was VERY pleased when he learned to make THAT noise!

Biscuit is still in the phase where one day we can't get him to each much of anything, then the very next day we can't seem to fill him up. Tonight was the latter.

Biscuit is starting to figure out that certain foods are served at certain times of the day. Oh, he'll still ask for Goldfish for dinner, but he's started to memorize some of the food pairings we give him at meals.

This morning, he said, "Mom, I want a blueberry candy bar and yogurt for breakfast." The blueberry candy bars are fruit breakfast bars, by the way. The breakfast bar and yogurt is a common pairing. So is a breakfast bar with applesauce or oatmeal and a banana.

Tonight, for the first time, he made a pretty good dinner request.

"Mom, I want little pizzas and peaches for dinner," Biscuit said. Sometimes I'll make him little pizzas out of English muffins. Jeff was covering a game tonight, and I couldn't think of anything I wanted, so I told him that sounded fine to me.

You would've thought I told the boy he could buy everything in the toy department.

"PEACHES! PEACHES! Pizza and PEACHES!" Biscuit yelled. Then after he repeated it over and over, he yelled again. "Mom! Mom! Pizza and peaches both start with P. THEY START WITH P, MOM!"

Biscuit loves beans and sweet potatoes, and bananas, applesauce and peaches. Sometimes it's hard to figure out how to handle all the food issues, but hey, my boy isn't starving.

Out of the mouth of my babe

A few things Biscuit has been saying lately:

Who are we? I've written before about how Biscuit changes our names and characters several times a day. We here things like, "Mom, I'm firefighter Ronnie Gage, and you're Nurse McCall," or "Mom, you run the store, and I need to buy some stuff."

But I think I like his recent roles for us best of all. 

"Mom, we're not anybody right now. We're just family."

Sing it: I was reading out loud to Jeff from the alumni update section of his college newsletter, and as is common where he went to school, there were a lot of Italian and Polish last names. I tried and tried to pronounce one woman's name, but I fear I was butchering it.

Finally, I just spelled it out loud to Jeff.

"C-i-a-r-a-o-l-o," I spelled out.

"No, Mom," Biscuit said. "It's C-I-N-G-O!"

Riveting TV: This didn't come directly from Biscuit, but I'm going to count it because it was about him.

Jeff had to do an unexpected interview and story last night. When he was done, he called the sports department to tell them the story was ready.

The editor he talked to asked him if he was watching the Daytona 500. Jeff's answer showed exactly how his life has changed over the past three years.

"Nope. I'm not watching the race," Jeff said. "Biscuit and I are watching to see what happens next on Umizoomi."

And being a dad himself, the editor said, "Don't worry. It won't be long before he gets into Phineas and Ferb,'' and that's much better for the adults."

Breaking news: Biscuit just walked into the living room as I was writing this.

"Mom, you're the prince, and Dad is the witch, and I'm the firefighter who is going to save you," Biscuit said. Then he handed me a ball and said, "This is your magic bouncing ball."

Then he took the ball away from me, bounced it across the living room floor and yelled, "OH, NO! YOUR MAGIC BOUNCING BALL JUST BOUNCED AWAY!"

"I'm going to talk to the witch now," Biscuit said as he headed out of the living room. "I'll be careful so the witch won't eat me. I'll have to go through the gate, jump on the crocodiles to cross the crocodile lake. Then I will rescue you. Okay, Mom? Is that a good plan?"

Maybe Biscuit is practicing for the best-selling series of books he'll write later.

Yeah, that's the ticket!

A post from The Daddy Man:

Picture it. Day care. This afternoon.

I went to pick up Biscuit, but he wasn't in his regular room. I grabbed his jacket out of his cubby, which I later learned was not the way to go, then I visited each room until I found him.

Before Biscuit even saw me, this little boy (let's call him "Eustace") came running up to me.

"Griffin hurt me," Eustace said.

"I'm sorry that happened. Are you okay?" I asked him. Then I noticed a little red scratch under his eye.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he said and ran away.

Biscuit finally saw me and came running. And then he saw his coat in my hand. And then he lost it.

Kimmy and I love that Biscuit is independent, but sometimes that boy will make you want to pull your hair out. He has to do almost everything by himself. And his independent streak always seems to turn up at the most inopportune times. And when you're in a hurry. And when you're tired. And when your patience has come to an end.

I had to wrestle Biscuit into his coat and haul him out of the building. He was crying and whining, but I just held on to him and kept walking.

Another dad was coming in the door as Biscuit and I were leaving. He has twins in Biscuit's class. He had a concerned look on his face until he heard what I was saying to Biscuit. At that point, he and I did the been-there-done-that nod to each other, and Biscuit and I headed out to the car.

I was curious about what Eustace had told me. I wanted to know what really happened. By the time I picked up Biscuit, his regular teachers were gone, and I couldn't ask them if they knew what went down.

"Biscuit, Eustace said you hurt him. Can you tell me what happened?" I asked.

"Um, it's a secret, Dad. I can't tell you," Biscuit said.

That wasn't exactly the answer I was looking for. "Biscuit, you don't keep secrets from Mama, and you don't keep secrets from me. Did you hurt Eustace?"

"I didn't hit him, Dad," Biscuit said. I didn't hurt Eustace."

"If you didn't hit him, how did he get that red scratch under his eye?" I asked Biscuit.

"Eustace hit me and he pushed me," Biscuit said.

"Did you hit Eustace?" I asked him.

"Eustace wanted his Mom to come get him and take him to the doctor," Biscuit said.

Once we were home, Kimmy thought she might give it a try, so she asked him what happened. Here's what Biscuit told her: "Eustace wanted his Mom to come and take him to the doctor. He fell down, and a spider scratched him."

It went from bad to worse.

First it was a secret, then Eustace was the offender, then it was the spider's fault. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I think I'll ask his teachers tomorrow morning, just to be on the safe side.

Big-boy room

When Jeff and I bought our house in 2003, we didn't really have any plans to have children. But since we have nieces and nephews, we designated the smallest bedroom for them. We painted it a pretty mint green with white accents and had a basket of toys and games for when they were here.

Fast-forward a couple of years, and after being around our nieces and nephews and some friends' children, we decided that having a couple of our own kids would be the way to go.

Not long after we made that decision, we were at a baby store getting a shower gift for a friend, when I saw the most beautiful crib set. It included a patchwork quilt that had a mint green border and had all different colors in it that could've suited a boy or a girl. It was perfect for that the former niece/nephew room, soon-to-be nursery. Or so we were hoping.

Then fast-forward three loooooooong years later (and many drugs and much drama), and Biscuit was here.

We started with a crib that we borrowed from my brother. His three kids slept in it, and I really liked the idea of it being a "family" crib. Then Biscuit graduated to a cute little toddler bed. He still sleeps in it now.

The bedding is light blue with cars and trucks all over it. It doesn't exactly match the mint green walls, but when we were looking at bedding, we wanted something that reflects his interests. And boy, did we get it right. That boy never leaves the house without some kind of car or truck.

Now, we're thinking about his big-boy room. Biscuit's room is sort of isolated, and it's the smallest of our three bedrooms. So we'll eventually move him down the hall to what is now the guest room. The room is a lot bigger. It has two closets. And it's right beside the upstairs bathroom. We don't have plans to move him anytime soon, but when he's ready, we'd like for his room to be ready, too.

When we moved into our house, I had a dresser, but Jeff didn't. So we went to an unfinished furniture store and bought a dresser he liked. I put a light stain on the top and sides and painted the drawer knobs black. But I never got around to staining the drawer fronts of putting a second coat on the top and sides.

So I told Jeff that I thought we should go back to that same store, buy the same dresser and have THEM stain it how he wanted it. Then I could take Jeff's old dresser, sand it down and paint it to go in Biscuit's big-boy room. We had a plan, and we were excited. (Okay, I was excited. Jeff was going to be fine with whatever.)

We got up on a Saturday, got ourselves and Biscuit ready and headed out to the furniture store. The store isn't on a side of town we frequent, so we didn't realize they had started making room for a road-widening project. The store was on a lot right behind a drugstore. But as we turned the corner at the drugstore, there was nothing there. Not only had they closed the store, they had leveled the lot. There was a big concrete slab where the store used to be and another one where the warehouse used to be. 

And unfortunately, the store isn't going to open back up somewhere else.

I was flabbergasted. I was really at a loss for words. And anyone who knows me knows that is not at all a common occurrence.

We ended up going to the furniture store where we got our bed and nightstands. They didn't have our exact style anymore, but we found something that was the same wood color and that had similar hardware.

So our plan was changed slightly, but we are still painting Jeff's old dresser for Biscuit's room. Well, I am doing the painting. Jeff's part won't come until it's time to haul the painted dresser up the stairs!

I went out this morning and did the sanding, then throughout the day I managed to get two coats of paint on it. It went a lot easier and quicker than I thought it would. I'm going to put at least one more coat on it, so it will have the rich finish that I want, but that'll have to wait for another day.

I did have one complaint, though.

I started sanding the top of the dresser with my little electric sander. But the dust was bothering me. So I got a face mask from Jeff's tool bureau. That kept me from breathing wood dust, but every time I breathed, my glasses would fog up. It was hard to see what I was doing.

Then I started blinking a lot and realized the dust was getting in my eyes, too. So I went back to the tool bureau and grabbed a pair of goggles. They kept the dust out, but every time I exhaled, they fogged up, too.

I called Jeff out to take a before-and-after photos of the dresser, but as soon as he saw my fogged-up goggles, he turned the camera on me. I wasn't at my most photogenic, but then I realized, nobody can see me, anyway for the fog and dust.

So here's what I looked like. Then you can see what the dresser looks like.

Short and sweet

Out of nowhere and apropos of nothing, this is what Biscuit said to me last night:

"Mom, sometimes Biscuit is a dog. Sometimes Biscuit is something you eat. And sometimes Biscuit is just Griffin."

(Note: There's a whole series of children's book in which the main character is a dog named Biscuit.)

Hi Ho, Mommio

Jeff had to cover a game last night, so Biscuit and I were on our own.

(Have I mentioned that I'll be glad when basketball season is over?!?)

Anyway, Biscuit and I finished dinner, and I was trying to think of something we could do together that was a little out of the ordinary. Then I remembered the games Biscuit got for his birthday.

So far, we've played with a domino set he got, as well as a couple of card games. We've played Chutes and Ladders and a dice game. But I realized we haven't played with the Hi Ho Cherry-O game he got.

Hi Ho Cherry-O was one of my favorite games as a kid, and I decided that last night would be Biscuit's introduction it.

He liked it ... he liked it A LOT!

He liked it so much that we played 13 straight games. THIRTEEN!!!

It's basically a counting game. Each player gets a tree with 10 cherries on it. You twirl the spinner and get either a number 1 through 4, a dog, a bird or an overturned bucket. If you get a number, that's how many cherries you move from your tree into your bucket. If you get a dog or a bird, you have to put two cherries back on your tree. If you get an overturned bucket, you have to put all your cherries back on your tree.

I recognized early on that Biscuit was getting it. He understood the purpose of the game, and he would get excited when he got to put cherries into his bucket.

The one thing that caused him some confusion was the way he should count. One time, he got a four on the spinner. He looked in his bucket and saw two cherries. So he reached over to his tree, grabbed two cherries and put them in his bucket.

"Biscuit, you need to put two more cherries in your bucket," I said.

"No, Mom," Biscuit said. "There are four cherries in my bucket. I got a four."

"Yeah, but you already had two cherries in the bucket," I said. "You got a four, so you need to add four cherries. You should have six cherries in your bucket."

He looked at me like I was trying to explain the theory of relativity. There are some concepts that are just flat-out hard to explain.

And to interrupt myself, one of the games he got for his birthday was a version of the card game War, where two players flip cards over and the one with the higher card gets to keep both cards. The winner is the one with the most cards at the end.

Try explaining the "higher number." As in, I have a 7, and you have a 3. Which one is the higher number and why? I made a valiant effort, but I finally just helped him through that game then suggested we played something else.

So as Biscuit and I were spinning and counting cherries, he realized that landing on a dog or a bird meant he was moving in the wrong direction. He started to get a little grumpy when he had to put his cherries back.

I figured I'd try to nip it in the bud. The next time Biscuit landed on the bird, I said, "Oh, no! That silly bird is going to eat two of your cherries!"

I created a monster. His exclamations got louder and bigger as the games went on.

"OH, NO, MOM! THAT SIWWY DOG IS GOING TO TAKE TWO OF MY CHERRIES!!"

Then came the moment when he realized that he had lost. I wasn't sure what to expect.

"Yay! All my cherries are gone," I said. "That means I won!"

Biscuit frowned and said, "But I didn't win, Mom."

"That's okay," I told him. "Maybe you'll win next time."

"Yeah, maybe I'll win next time," Biscuit said.

And he did. He won six games, and I won seven. And he was a very good sport every time he lost.

But the best part was when we were done playing. Biscuit and I had just gotten up from the table. He took off running toward the living room, then he stopped and came back. He wrapped his arms around my leg and said, "I'm glad we played the game, Mom. It was fun."