She's Crafty

Confession: Organization makes me irrationally happy.

I swoon at color coded file folders.  Binder clips make me weak in the knees. 

There is a special and specific place for every thing from potato chips to slivered almonds to tomato paste in my pantry and when they are not in their designated location, it makes me itchy.

Even my junk drawer is organized. Seriously.

So, I created an epically organized calendar for my 2 year old son.

Here's how I did it-
1. On snapfish.com you can create a sheet of 20 stickers for about $5.

• I did 4 sheets- Pman and Mommy, Pman and Daddy, P and Gramma (she watches him every other Friday- WAY awesome), and another of his school.

2. I bought a $5 calendar from Target.

• I had paper clips and index cards at home

3. I put a paperclip on the index card.  Then I stuck one of the stickers on top and cut around the index card, so each picture fit on the day square on the calendar. In the end I had many reusable papercliped stickers featuring the above mentioned people and place combos.

4. Then I cut slits in the top of every weekday.  I slipped the paperclipped picture into the slot so that when you look at the calendar you can see who P will spend his day with- every day for the entire month.

Here's what it looks like:

After dinner each night we go to the calendar and talk about what we did that day.  He pulls off the current picture and places it in a bag. 

Then we talk about who P will be with the next day.  He is learning how to tell today from tomorrow from yesterday AND he always knows what's coming next.  It's working! He woke up last Thursday (yesterday) and said, "Skoooo." (translation: school)  He remembered! (Or that's what I'm telling myself anyway.)

There it is.  I'm an organizing freak and I am passing the obsession onto my son- it seems. 

Judging the Dutch

Confession: I generally do not like amusement parks. 

I get horrible motion sickness if I even sit in the backseat of a car- hell I've even gotten sick while driving a car.  When you introduce whirly twisty rides to a lady like me, bad bad things happen.  For this reason, I usually avoid amusement parks.  However, Josh loves them.  So now that Parker is getting older we have taken him on a few rides and so far he seems to love them as well.  Just after his 2nd Birthday he got on a non-kiddie version of the Scrambler with Josh.  As his little body was whipped around and whizzed by me, I stood watch, gnawing on each one of my fingernails.  He was squealing with delight, I was gripped with terror.

I have family in Lancaster, PA, which is near Dutch Wonderland- a kiddie focused amusement park.  Josh and I drove to my family's house on Friday and Saturday we headed to DW.  Here are some photos, but first a quick review:

Cost- a ticket for anyone 3 and above is $31.95, unless you can pass for a senior citizen, then it's like $25.95 or something.

Rides- there are rides the 2's and 3's can do alone and tons of rides they can do with their parents.  There is also a great selection of rides for kids up to about 10 or 12 years old I would say.  There is a waterpark as well, but P was coming off a fever, so we did not venture over there.

Food- crappy and expensive

Location- it's super easy to get to and there are a ton of hotels around it.  I've heard there is a kids hands-on museum a few miles away from the park and a train museum close by that is pretty cool.  We only went to the park though.

Overall- we had a great time.  The park was not so big that we felt overwhelmed and we were able to do all the P appropriate rides.  Most of the park is shaded, which is great.  Save for the collective toddler 2p.m. meltdown performed simultaneously by the hundreds of kiddos at the park, it was a fun family trip and we will be going back for sure.

On the trip P discovered a love for Strawberry Pop Tarts, fell off a bench and hit his chin-typical, thoroughly enjoyed the log flume(!), slept without incident on the air mattress- guess he is more ready for a big boy bed than I thought. (He is currently still in his crib. Santa is bringing him a big boy bed- stay tuned...)

Thanks to Anne and Uncle Herpman (Herman) for hosting this super fun weekend!

Mom. Dad. Just pull the wagon and please stop talking to me directly.

*Happy*

*Awesome*

Anne and Uncle Herpman

I'm Fine (For Now)

Pman reporting for duty.

On Monday I did not set up any play dates.  We did not go to the gym.  It was just P and me.

Monday morning we dicked around the house until we were bored then we went to the park. 

On Monday we ate Arby's french fries (and only french fries) for lunch. 

Monday's nap was was barley 30 minutes.

On Monday I packed up his Batman backpack and wrote his name on everything inside. 

We sat on the floor of his room and listened to a CD I used to play when I rocked and fed him late at night while the rest of the world slept.  Parker read books to me. 

This scene is burned in my memory.  I already know when he hits other milestones in his life, I will automatically recall this image- us on the floor, books everywhere, soft rain forest type music in the background peppered by the sounds of his toddler babble. This is the first time I am sending him out into the world and simply trusting he will be ok.

Monday evening, after Pman was in his crib for the night, I made his lunch, wrote him a note (I know I know stop rolling your eyes) and put a special treat in his lunch box.

On Tuesday I woke him up gently.

Our morning was filled with comments about how exciting the day was going to be because he was going to get to go to school.

On this Tuesday morning, the first- first day of school- he gave me a kiss on the porch of the school because I didn't want to have to make a big deal about leaving once we were inside.

Monday morning was tear-free and so was Tuesday.  Parker ran right up to the playground with the other kiddos and did not look back. 

I'm told, by someone I hardly know, my son had a great day and even slept during nap time.  The teacher-stranger told me my son was sooo sweet and she could tell some kids just have old souls and she thinks P is one of them.  She told me how when she handed him scissors, to check out his cutting ability, he looked at her like, "I'm not sure my mommy would like this." According to this perfect stranger my preciousP said please and thank you. 

As we left the school Parker enthusiastically told this new person, who will play a big part in his life, "Bye! See Ya Thsisuaohyyy!" (Thursday)

This school is a little one- maybe 2 classes of 7 to 8 students total.  I signed him up in February knowing this August date was looming, but when you are celebrating Valentine's Day it is hard to even conjure up images of the end of summer.  I was easy breezy about the whole thing really because, "August was sooo far away."  I expect the next few times to go a little bumpier than this first day.  He knows what preschool is now- that is all day and mommy is not there.  Maybe he will be a-ok, maybe not. 

People keep asking how I'm doing.  It's funny, I never really know how to answer that question anymore.  I am feeling how ever Parker needs me to feel.  He's cool with it, so I'm following his lead.

A part of me is sad though- only because I know he is growing up and I wish sometimes I could slow it down.  I think back to times when I lost my patients with him or talked on the phone while he played by himself or fed him dinner early so I could get him to bed so I could just- get- a- break.  Apparently none of these things caused any permanent damage because my Pman is a happy camper.  When he is not it only takes a few quick easy tricks- gummy candy, playing with scissors (apparently), going outside or racing his cars to make him happy.

 

That's How That Happened

Confession: I have greatly been neglecting my blogging duties, both in posting and commenting. I apologize.

I am closing out the class I taught this summer and finalizing (read: starting) the three syllabi's for the three different classes I will be teaching this semester.  While I am doing all of this, I am trying desperately to not calculate the amount on my paycheck verse the amount of hours I'm clocking in on my couch grading, coordinating and planning. 
That conversion chart only brings me to tears and causes me to eat all the Oreo's Safeway has to offer.

As I channel the brilliance that make up my in-class activities and graded assignments for all students to enjoy, I will leave you with this short story that pretty much sums up my last couple days:

When I want Psizzle to, "Come here." for any reason, he will run to the farthest corner of the room we are in.  He wants me to stretch my arms toward him and say, "Reeeaaadddyyyy?! GO!" Then he runs into my arms as fast as his little chicken toddler legs will allow.

(It makes me sad to think he may get in trouble for this when he starts school NEXT WEEK.  I feel an uncontrollable need to tell the teachers about this habit and encourage them to play along because I think it is cute.  Also, Pman does not drink from a cup without a lid and has questionable skills when it comes to boxed drinks.  I fear he will be judged thusly.)

Anyway, as we are in P's room for a postnap diaper change/potty visit, I asked him to, "Come here please."

He took off for the far corner, which is also where his windows are.  His windows with curtains that go all the way to the ground.  As he launched his little body in my general direction, he also pulled the curtains and the curtain rod right down- out of the wall, leaving a series of holes and a gash.

After a quite a bit of deep breathing and counting to ten, P got the message that mommy needed a minute.  I said, "I'm mad right now. I wish you knew to be more careful.  Let's go calm down and have a snack."

Snack?  Snack you say?  Let's go.

A bit later back up in P's room, brandishing a power drill, I climbed up on an ottoman so I could attempt to fix the curtains.

Did I mention it was a rocking ottoman?

Yea.  Well.

I'm not sure what happened or how.  I was up, trying to drill the screw into a stripped hole of sorts while cussing quietly through my teeth and plotting against the stupid guys who design curtain rods and the ones who built my house because clearly they all had a hand in this mess.

Within minutes, I was on the ground, firmly gripping the power drill (thank God).  My fall was not graceful.  When it was done, no one was bleeding, the window itself was still in tact and Parker had learned some new combinations of some very bad words. 

I did somehow end up with a bruise the size of Montana on my calf.  It's not cute, but I'm hoping strangers think I got it in some mountain climbing accident and not while standing on moving furniture with battery powered tools in my hand- in my 2 year old son's room.

Timing

When your teeny tiny infant child picks out a lunch box- blue, or "booo!" and a backpack- Batman to take to his first day of preschool you become more aware of time and quickly it moves and how quirky it can be.

My infant son who I now squeeze desperately every time he gives me a chance, goes pee-pee on the potty about 3 times a day.  He did this on his own.  I swear I am not pushing him. 

One day he said, "Peeeeeeee?!" 
I said, "Do you want to try the potty?"
As a grin stretches across his face "Esss." He replies full of self confidence and excitement. 

Without too much detail, mostly because I'm sure most of you can fill in the blanks about how this whole thing goes down, I will say as Parker fills the pot his face- his whole being-is beaming with pride.  His confidence is contagious.

He does sit on the potty, in lieu (ha get it!) of standing and every time he goes, he grabs for the toilet paper- perhaps too much potty time with mommy. 

His new found pee-pee in the potty talent is coming at an interesting time.  When he goes to preschool he will be there all day and they will start working on potty training with him.  I expect a little regression when school starts, but I think we are on a good road.

My precious baby boy who has been going to the gym with me 4 to 5 days a week since he was 2 months old is now...just now...2 weeks before his first day of school ever...starting to cry, no wail, when I leave the kiddie room at the gym. 

He clings to my legs and says, nay sobs, "No Mommy.  No Mommy." 

Why now?  Why couldn't we have gone through this clingy stage earlier and been through the woods by this point?  The ladies at the gym tell me he is over it within minutes.  I know he will be fine at school.  Josh and I picked this school because we know he will love it. 

I picked this school because I loved it. 

Pman is ready.  I am ready.  I wish I could transfer that "pee-pee in the potty" confidence to "first day of preschool" confidence.  I would gladly make the switch.

Another recent discovery in the world of Pfunk is french fries.  He knows what they are and he LOVES them.  Of course this comes as I am entering peak training mode for the Baltimore Marathon.  Of course his affinity for all things fried potato comes just as I am hitting my goal weight.  Of course I will take him to get some after his first day of school.

Gum

Confession: I am 30 years old and I think, in my lifetime, I have maybe- maybe spit out 5 pieces of gum.  My general practice is to just swallow my gum once I have chewed it, or tired of the chewing all together. 

I do not believe the hype about your body not digesting gum, because if that were the case, I would have like 40 extra pound of undigested gum in my large intestine alone.  I'm sure it takes a bit longer to process than some other food items, like cucumbers or a bran muffin, but I mean if a dentists' drill bit will "process through my system" why not a hunk of Hubba Bubba?

I should mention, I'm not a huge gum chewer.  If I need to freshen up a bit I prefer to nosh on a York Peppermint Patty or Junior Mints- hell, I nosh on them even if I do not need to freshen up a bit. In the last few months Parker has also demonstrate a love for all things minty.  He also has a new hobby of copying everything I do.

See where this is going?

Parker has recently found out about gum.  I will give him a chiclet size morsel and he chews on it until it either falls out of his mouth into the oblivion that is the floor of my car, or he will swallow it and happily ask for another.  Honestly, the pieces I give him are so small that they are more likely to get stuck in between his baby teeth than be any sort of choking hazard.

That is until he found another use for it...

Notice 5 Stride gum wrappers.  This was a new pack of gum, I could only find 5 wrappers.  This is not good.

That blur is Pman running away from the pack of gum and toward the kitchen.  RUN-NING. He does have about 2 unwrapped Stride sticks in his hot little hands. This photo captured his 8th (or so) trip from the pack of gum in the living, to the kitchen.

He is now hunched over a McDonald's Happy Meal toy.  It's a kitten in a basket.  It's a girl toy. It came in a Happy Meal I bought while holding P on my hip.  He was wearing the outfit you see here. Thanks Ronald, you've got some real cracker jacks working for you.

Here is the fruit of Mr. P's labor- a plastic cat nestled comfortably in a bed of made entirely of 10 or so shredded sticks of Stride gum.

The best 96 cents I ever spent.

Trivia

You know those burning questions that seem to have no answer? Well, grab your favorite burn related ointment and your bifocals because I am about to answer a few of them.

You're welcome.

How many CDs will fit into the single CD player in a stardard Hyundai Santa Fe?

Yesterday Pman was playing his favorite game- Beep Beep, which involves him sitting in my parked car in the driveway with the emergency brake firmly in place. He pushes every button, turns every knob, and honks the horn repeatedly. It's ...great...

It seems he found the CD player, which is meant to house 1 CD at a time.  He inserted at least 5 CDs. I'm not sure exactly how many are in the player at the moment. The car refuses to eject anymore and will yell curse words at me every time I push the CD button. Guess that minivan is coming sooner than I thought.

What happens with a toddler needs to "check" his email?

You will lose a back slash key and for reasons you will never know or understand, your B button will stick, rendering it extremely difficult to log into anything since there seems to be a B in every password you ever created.

When do chocolate and peanut butter NOT work well together?

When the recipe comes from a child’s cookbook and involves powdered milk. Also the few people I allowed to tasted these Balls of Awful ,all guessed there was coconut in them.  There was no coconut.

When you spend $30 on a reversible Batman/Superman cap for your son, who will end up wearing it?

Your husband

If your husband uses spray sunscreen in a careless fashion and ends up with a terrible sunburn, what household item will he reach for first to scratch his back?

There are actually several answers, you are not going to like any of them:
• YOUR hairbrush
• Son's toys
• Any doorframe on the inside or outside of the house
• A spatula
• One of those noodle grabber things you use to pull wet noodles out of water. He will also make groaning noises with this one.

MMMBBaazzzFFArrrrbbbbmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm- What is this the sound of?

Bubble solution leaking into the motor of a bubble blowing toy rendering me helpless and P profoundly upset.

When a high strung college freshman is asked to write a 300-500 word short (SHORT) essay that WILL NOT be graded about something she is good at or enjoys doing, how will she react?

She will cry and leave the room in a huff.

Finally, what's for dinner?

No really, what? PLEASE don't say chicken again. I don't care if you put all the curry powder in Indian /BBQ sauce/gravy on a boneless skinless chicken breast, it will still- taste- like- chicken.