Saturday, August 28, 2010

Food for thought

A post from The Daddy Man:

Kim was out running errands, and I put together a plate of leftovers for Biscuit's dinner. He had some macaroni and cheese and some oven-fried chicken.

I warmed it up, and the boy seemed hungry enough, but he only picked at his food while he was at the table. Then, he said, "Down, please."

I didn't think he had had enough to eat, so after he ran into the living room to play some more, I grabbed his plate and brought it with me. I sat on the couch and pretended to eat the food on Biscuit's plate. He's always very interested in having some of whatever is on everyone else's plate, so when he thought he saw me eating, he walked over and said, "Bite, bite, bite, please."

I gave him a bite then pretended to start eating again. "Bite, please. Bite." I gave him another bite and this continued until he had cleaned his plate.

I'm figuring out that sometimes parenting involves just a little bit of trickery.

Noise, noise and more noise

A lot of Biscuit's toys (most of them, actually) were gifts from friends and family. And I usually have a pretty good memory about where things came from.

So, when Biscuit plays with his toys, I often think of the people who gave them to him.

So ...

Thank you, Grandmama and Grandpapa for the push-toy popcorn popper. It's especially nice when we're watching a movie, and Biscuit decides to go pop-pop-popping round and round from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen to the hallway and back into the living room.

Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa for the music table. It plays instruments and sings songs and names letters and colors. It's lovely. Especially after you've heard the same thing over and over and over again. And also especially when Biscuit gets stuck on just a couple of the buttons, and the music table suddenly becomes a rap DJ table. B-b-b-b-b-b-lue circle. B-b-b-b-b-blue circle.

Then there's the carrot car. One of my friends got Biscuit a dragster that looks like a carrot. It has a removable rabbit driver. When you pop the rabbit back into the driver's seat, you get revving noises and tire-squealing noises. It's really cute ... for the first 12,000 times you hear it!

Another friend gave Biscuit a stuffed Easter duck that's wearing a rabbit costume. The duck is very soft, so Biscuit loves it when I attack him with it. The duck nuzzles Biscuit's neck, then he runs around yelling "Cack, cack, cack, cack!" (His way of saying "quack.")

Biscuit's aunt and uncle gave him an animated Eeyore that sings "If You're Happy and You Know It, Flap Your Ears" and "Do Your Ears Hang Low." Every time that donkey starts singing, Biscuit's face lights up like it's Christmas. You'd think I'd get tired of those songs, but it's actually still amusing to me. Of course, you can check back in six months and see if that's still my opinion.

Yet another friend gave Biscuit a cool toy that's kinda hard to describe. It has a twisty-turny tube that winds it's way around and down inside the toy. When you push the plunger on the side, air starts circulating through the tube and several balls start to bubble out of the top, then roll down a ramp back into the machine. I have to say, I like the way this toy works. But of course, it has obnoxious music and this loud humming noise that sounds like a small generator. A few times of watching the balls float out of this thing and back inside, I'm ready to flip the off switch.

My question is ... Why do the cool toys always have to make noise?!?

The land of nod

6:51 a.m. ... in the morning ... on a Saturday ... that's what time I got up this morning.

It's so not fair. Jeff and Biscuit were both still sleeping, and I say, if my boys are sleeping, I should be sleeping, too.

I remember when Biscuit was a wee tiny baby, and many of my mom friends told me to make sure I took naps when the baby took naps. I was never able to make that happen. I always found things that I needed or wanted to do more than sleep. But I swear, the older that child gets, the more I crave those naps I should've taken then.

I've never been much of a napper. They have usually left me feeling more groggy than refreshed. But lately, on the weekends, I've been sneaking in afternoon siestas when Biscuit goes to sleep. There's a little guilt there. I feel like I should be doing something productive, doing something I couldn't do if he was awake. But lately, the luxury and restorative power of those naps has sapped away that small bit of guilt.

As a matter of fact, Biscuit is napping right now, and I'm kinda mad that I'm in the process of doing laundry and writing this blog post instead of stealing a few winks!

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Mind your manners

Our Biscuit baby is working hard on his manners. And we're very proud of him. Manners are important to both Jeff and me. We both had them drilled into us when we were kids, and we want to continue that tradition.

So far, we've worked on saying "please," "thank you," "you're welcome" and "bless you" (for sneezes).

Biscuit brings books to us and says, "Read book, please." Okay, actually, he says "Ree book, peas." But still, "please" is the important part.

When he's finished eating, Biscuit will say, "Down, please," for us to take him out of his high chair.

He also says, "Bite, please," when he wants some of whatever we have. That one is probably the most common of his mannerly phrases.

Biscuit struggles a little with "thank you" and "you're welcome." When we give him something, we'll say, "Say 'thank you.'" To which he usually says, "You're welcome." Or actually, "You wellwa."

He does say "thank you" when someone blesses his sneezes, though, and "bless you" when someone else sneezes. Jeff sneezed this morning, and here was the conversation:

Jeff: (sneezes)
Biscuit: Bless you, Dada.
Jeff: Thank you, Biscuit.
Biscuit: You wellwa.

Emily Post would be proud.

Monday, August 16, 2010

Happy husband

I think the sports genes are kicking in with Biscuit.

When shown a soccer picture, Biscuit says, "Kick ball."

When shown a golfer, Biscuit says, "Hit ball."

When shown a baseball player, Biscuit says, "Catch ball."

Yep. Husband is happy.

Sick but still funny

I had to take Biscuit to the doctor this evening at 6:40. Our appointment was at 6:40. I didn't even know doctors' offices stayed open that late.

Biscuit is okay. He has a sinus infection. Nothing 10 days of antibiotics won't take care of.

But he was so pitiful today. I was trying to work from home, but he just wanted to be in close contact at all times. It's hard to edit stories with a little one lying diagonally across your chest.

When we got to the doctor's office, we were the only people in the waiting room, and Biscuit decided that he needed to touch every chair in the place. There are probably 30 chairs in the waiting room, and he touched each one and said, "Chair" every time.

Then when the nurse came out and called Biscuit's name, he looked at her, put his hand on his chest and said, "Me." Yep, she's talking to you, Biscuit.

He stood on the big-boy scales ... 23 pounds. Then she took his temperature in his ear. "Good job," the nurse said. "Thank you," Biscuit said.

It seemed to take forever for the doctor to come in. We read several books, we named all the animals in the pictures on the walls. They had a wall chart to measure the kids' heights. It had cute monkeys on it that were holding flowers and bananas. I called Biscuit over to show it to him.

"Look at the monkeys, Biscuit. This one is holding a banana," I said to him.

"Niiiiice," he said. My little man still has his mojo, even when he's sick.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Two shows in two days

We just got back from our second car show this weekend. We had one last night that was a cruise-in, and one this afternoon that was a regular park-it-and-wait-for-it-to-be-judged kind of show.

Last night, we met a couple of friends and their son, who is 3 months younger than Biscuit. The town where they live blocks off main street after classic cars pull in diagonally down both sides of the street. Then people can just walk around checking out the rides.

It took Jeff and me longer than we thought it would to get to the show. We both got out of work later than we'd hoped, plus, we had to pick Biscuit up at day care, go home, change clothes, get the Barracuda out, then drive 30 minutes to the cruise-in. By the time we got there, they had already closed off the street.

We have to drive two cars when we go to shows because the Barracuda isn't equipped to handle a baby seat, plus, with Biscuit's history of ear infections, I really don't want him blowing in the wind from the back seat of a convertible.

So Biscuit and I found a parking spot in a bank parking lot. And as soon as I opened the back of the car, it hit me ... when I was p
acking to go to the lake last weekend, I took Biscuit's stroller out of the car. I was two blocks away from where the cars were, and even farther away from where our friends were. Luckily, as soon as Biscuit and I caught up with our friends, I had some toting help.

Jeff couldn't figure out how to get parked, so he asked a police officer. The guy told him that the only way he could get in was to go through the TV line. So here's Jeff, just arriving in town, and he hops right in line in front of all the other cars and gets on TV. My husband, the camera hog! Our friend sent us a link to the local cable TV channel so we could watch Jeff cruising through downtown and his interview with the show's host. They'll rebroadcast it from time to time until the next cruise-in.

By the time Jeff found a parking place, both kids were hungry, so we headed into a tasty burger joint. By the time we made it out of there, a lot of the cars were heading for home. They have several cruise-ins a year, so I guess we'll have to plan better for the next one.

The show we went to today was the 16th annual show for a local car club. Jeff entered the same show two years ago (and wo
n a trophy). And he won a trophy today, too. This area is very Chevy and Ford laden, so when a Mopar shows up, it usually gets a lot of attention.

We met a really nice guy from one town over. His dad had given him the car he entered, just like Jeff's dad gave him his Barracuda. It was nice to talk to him, especially hearing him and Jeff both talk about how their cars have way more sentimental value than they ever will monetary value.

Biscuit took a quick nap during the afternoon, but for the most part, he was perfectly content sitting in his stroller looking around. Although, he did get a bigger kick out of the ducks, dogs and babies than the beautiful cars that were all around him!

After the trophies were handed out, Biscuit and I were heading back to our car. All the entrances but one were blocked off, so as we walked, all the cars started parading past us. I found a shady spot, and we stopped and just watch the cars come by. I explained to Biscuit what each car was and whether we liked it or not (and being a Ford girl from way back, I think I was pretty fair in including some Chevys on my list of what we liked).

I hope for Jeff's sake that our boy takes an interest in cars. If his behavior right now is any indication, I don't think I have anything to worry about!

Bad Mama!

I pulled into the driveway yesterday evening and started mine and Biscuit's evening routine.

I pack up all of my stuff and set it in the passenger seat. Then I get out and open Biscuit's door and get him out. Then we walk to the mailbox where I have to give him a letter of some sort to carry, then we head back to the front passenger seat of the car, grab my stuff and head into the house.

I'm routine oriented. This is what we do every day. So imagine my surprise when I opened Biscuit's door yesterday evening and see him just sitting in his car seat ... with NO STRAPS BUCKLED!!!!

I set him in his seat when I picked him up from day care and never fastened the straps on his seat. Me ... MRS. ROUTINE.

Thank goodness our ride home was uneventful. And that Biscuit isn't more rambunctious in his seat.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Of Poots and Poo

I realize that Biscuit will probably find some of these blog posts embarrassing one day. So, I'm going to share an embarrassing story about myself to help make up for it.

Here goes ...

I was standing in the kitchen one night last week. And I thought I was all by myself. I was already in my nightgown.

I didn't know it, but Biscuit was standing right behind me.

I farted. Yes, you read that right. I thought I was alone!

Biscuit then hiked up the tail of my gown, patted my butt, and said, "Poo, Mama? Poo?"

"No, baby. But thanks for asking," I said to him.

Mama time, Part 2

Remember when I talked about leaving my boys at home for the weekend so I could spend some time with my girlfriends at the lake? Well, my dear husband said I didn't tell the whole story.

I did only talk to Jeff and Biscuit on the phone a couple of times. But during those phone calls, I had a whole list of information to pass along to Jeff.

I'm a control freak. I'll be the first to admit it. I always have a plan in my head.

So when I heard that Jeff and Biscuit were going to a car show Saturday and a ballgame Sunday, I really, really, REALLY needed to impart the proper procedure of how everything should be done.

This is where I realize that I married exactly the right man.

"Jeff, I know that you are perfectly capable of handling Biscuit for a weekend, but can I go through the list for my own peace of mind?" I asked him.

"Yep. Shoot," Jeff said.

"You need to take your diaper bag, but make sure there are diapers, wipes, changing pads, a spare outfit, a sippy cup, a pacifier and some snacks," I told him.

"See? It's a good thing you ran through the list because I wouldn't have thought to take snacks," Jeff said.

I'm not sure if I really helped him get ready or if he was just appeasing his crazy wife! Either way, he knows me well enough to know how to keep me calm. And that's a good, good thing.

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

When Mama's away ...

When Mama's away, the boys will play. This is what I found out when I called home from my girls' lake weekend.

Friday night, Jeff and Biscuit stayed home and watched "Adam-12" DVDs. They had PB&J sandwiches for dinner.

Saturday afternoon, they went to a car show, then had pizza and bread sticks for dinner.

Sunday afternoon, Biscuit and Jeff went with one of Jeff's friends and his son to a minor league ballgame where Biscuit ate french fries from a cup with ketchup, of course. (Between my mother-in-law and my brother, Biscuit has mastered the art of dipping ... chicken nuggets in honey mustard, fries in ketchup, even hush puppies in BBQ sauce.)

Biscuit wore a borrowed hat until the sun went o
ver the back of the stadium.

After the game, Jeff a
nd Biscuit went to the gift shop, and Jeff bought Biscuit his own Hoppers baseball cap. And to say Biscuit liked it is an understatement.

When Jeff brought Biscuit home from day care Monday, Biscuit was wearing the hat. When Jeff changed Biscuit into pajamas that evening, Biscuit came right back into the livin
g room and grabbed his hat.

Jeff teases me because I wear my hats down close to my eyes in the front. He always says, "You're rockin' that hat low, aren't you, babycakes?"

I guess I passed that along to Biscuit. He rocks his hat low, too. So low that he makes his ears stick out.

We keep trying to adjust it on his head so it won't crimp his ears down, but he'll just reach up and pull it right back where he wants it.

Oh yeah, and when my boys weren't out and about, they were partying in the bathroom. Check this out:

Mama time

I spent this past weekend with three girlfriends in a rented lake house. I went Friday evening after work and didn't return home until Monday evening.

Surprised? Yeah, me, too.

But look at the view. Yo
u would've stayed all that time, too!

When we were planning th
e trip, I wasn't sure how long I'd be able to stay. Part of that was because with kids, you never know. But also, I just didn't know if I could stay away that long. I've never been away from Biscuit that long.

There were several times throughout the weekend that I was tempted to pack up and come home. But every time that happened, I got out my laptop and looked at pictures and videos of Biscuit. I just kept telling myself that the trip was good for me (time for me to rest and recharge), good for Biscuit (to sp
end some time away from me) and good for Jeff (so he can see what it's like for me during basketball season!).

We carried lots of junk food, celebrity magazines, romance books and slouchy clothes. The other ladies spent some time in the water, but I made it as far as the floating dock at the end of the pier, and that was far enough for me!

I talked to my boys on the phone a few times, and
I think they missed me. But not too much. They found plenty to do (see the next post).

When I got back Monday afternoon, I started the laundry and made a nice meal for dinner. Because Biscuit had junk food all weekend, he wanted nothing to do with the meat and veggies I set before him. So he pitched a fit at the dinner table.

Then as I was trying to get the table cleared and get my bags unpacked, it seemed like Jeff was in my way no matter which direction I turned. I had to go into our bedroom for a few minutes to regroup.

I had the whole weekend of worrying about nothing. I ate when I was hungry, not because the schedule said it was time. I slept when I was sleepy, not because I knew the alarm was going off in a few hours. I read more than a chapter at a time in my book. I sat on the deck just staring up into the trees. Basically, I had no responsibilities.

But then I had to step
back into reality. And it was harder than I thought it would be. I was thinking about getting hugs and kisses, reading kid books and sitting at the dinner table together, but I wasn't prepared for the boys being in my way, nobody wanting the dinner I made and Biscuit having a bad day.

But I folded some laundry, went through some mail and put my cosmetics back in the bathroom, and then I got my groove back.

I missed my boys terribly while I was gone, but I also learned that a little time for Mama every now and then is certainly not a bad thing.

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Our little man ... and I mean little

Check out Biscuit's in his new outfit.

Biscuit has a dresser drawer full of summer-season clothes that he can't wear. They're all too big. He's still smaller than most kids his age, and we've had a really hard time finding shorts for him.

The sizes generally go by age. Biscuit is 20 months old, but he wears 18-month shirts and 12-month shorts. He actually has a couple of pairs of 9-month shorts he can still wear. His waist is so little that when we put a pair of the 18-month shorts on him, he took off running and literally ran right out of them.

The outfit in the picture above is brand new. It's size 12-month. I told Jeff that I hate to buy new clothes so late in the season, but everything is on sale right now, and hey, the boy's gotta have something to wear that fits.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


Sometimes when I hear Jeff and Biscuit interacting, I just stand outside the door and listen. They're so funny together. Here are three recent conversations:

Jeff was helping Biscuit eat breakfast. Biscuit had half a piece of toast left and decided that he needed to let his Hot Wheels truck drive over it.

Jeff: Biscuit. That is an off-road truck not an on-toast truck.

Biscuit: Yeah. Truck.


The three of us were on our way home from day care today, and Jeff noticed that a family's side yard was covered in kudzu.

Jeff: Wow. They have lots of kudzu.

Biscuit: Bless you, Dada.


Biscuit couldn't reach the cars he wanted, so he came in the living room to find Jeff.

Biscuit: Mone, Dada. Mone. Hope (which means help).

Jeff (after getting the cars down for Biscuit): Say thank you.

Biscuit: You're welcome.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Not nice

Biscuit was sitting on our bed earlier this evening, when he decided it would be fun to try walking around up there.

We have a king-size bed, and it's pretty high up off the floor. So high that I have a step stool to get up there. (Don't make fun. I'm short!)

It was actually funny, because we got that bed at the same time my nephew was moving into a big-boy bed, so we just called our bed my big-girl bed.

So anyway, Biscuit was walking around on my big-girl bed, and he was getting a little too close to the opposite edge. So Jeff told him to come over to his side. He grabbed Biscuit's arm and pulled him over closer.

Apparently, Biscuit didn't think this was a good thing to do. He looked at Jeff and said, "No, no, no! NOT nice!"

We be illin'

There are many things I love about our day care.

The multitude of random illnesses my sweet Biscuit baby brings home isn't one of them.

Colds and stomach bugs have plagued our house since he started, and from what I hear, this is a pretty common scenario. The funny thing is that the teachers and workers wash their hands. They wash the kids' hands. And they have all these safety measures in place.

But there's only so much you can do to ward off snotty-nosed, runny-butted little munchkins.

And thanks to those snotty-nosed, runny-butted little munchkins, I had to stay home from work today, and Biscuit has had massive, and I mean MASSIVE!!!! diaper issues. Just ask Jeff, he had to put our comforter, his clothes and Biscuit's clothes in the washing machine about an hour ago.

Hopefully, everything will come out in the wash. And after all, tomorrow is another day.