Things I Had Hoped I Would Never Hear Myself Say.

As you know, we're in the process of potty training Jack.  Boys are notoriously harder than girls to train (yes, that's our excuse for having a three year old wearing diapers), and it has been a challenge with Jack.  Complicating matters, he's strong-willed, so on good advice, we've been letting things take their course, encouraging the issue with promises of treats and rewards for repeated use.  He's warming to the idea of the potty, er... toilet, and he has even been asking to wear his "big boy" underwear that we bought him for his birthday in January.  

Long story short, Jack was with me in the kitchen tonight, hanging out while I cleaned up bit, sitting on his favorite stool, in nothing but a tee shirt and his big boy undies.  I looked over, saw activity I didn't condone (and certainly did not want to foster over the long term) and said, in a firm, stern voice,

"Jack, stop playing with it.  It's not a toy."

Yes.  The "it" is what you think it is.  

Buddies

 

It's good having buddies nearby.  I never felt like I had good friends within walking distance growing up.  Jack is blessed to have one of his best friends, Charlie, footsteps from his front door (back door, really, but who's counting).  And Sam and Charlie's little brother, Wes, are only 10 weeks apart.  And Ashley and I really enjoy Charlie and Wes' parents.  They're loads of fun, easy to get along with, and don't frown when we pop a bottle of wine or a beer.  

[Yes, friends, that's the famous couch the boys are sitting on.  It will likely have to be incinerated once we're finished with it.  No amount of reupholstering will save it, I'm guessing.]

Little Conversations

I really love the little conversations I have with Jack.  He's 3 years and two months, but communicates adeptly and grasps concepts far beyond his years.

Jack's was sick all day.  He threw up at church this morning, and then again once he was home.  He tossed cookies after a few sips of blueberry/pomegranate juice.  Of course, he vomited on our couch so we've got a new blue stain to add to the hundred or so others that now dot our once delightfully tasteful couch.  

When Jack's sick to his stomach, he is very, very sedate.  But he also engages in conversation.  This is contrasted against when he's well and he simply barks commands and makes silly faces 24-7.  He obviously takes after his mother. 

For dinner, Jack wanted yogurt, but not just any yogurt: Strawberry Scooby-Doo Go-gurt.  [Go-gurt, for those who don't know, is a newer product; a way for yogurt retailers to reach the "overworked, on-the-go mom" market, while charging more money for less product.  It's yogurt in a plastic tube.  One end is a stamped and cut such that it easily rips open and becomes the end you eat out of.  You simply squeeze the yogurt up from the bottom and eat as you go.  Quite genius, really. The best thing since sliced bread, one writer believes.  I will admit that I have enjoyed a few from time to time, since you can eat them on the way to work without worry of dripping on your outfit.  They do make "adult" versions.]  

So Ashley searched, but came up empty.  So Jack settled for a regular strawberry-flavored yogurt, in the standard cylindrical container.  Sitting down to eat it, he exhaled deeply in disappointment. [sarcasm] Oh the injustice of this world. [/sarcasm]

Later, putting away the leftovers from Ashley and my dinner, I found one.  It had been partially eaten - more than half was left - and put back in the fridge for later use.  [This is not a blog for germophobes.  We hate to waste food while people in this world starve, so most of Jack's half-eaten food ends up in the fridge again.]  Regardless, having found what I believed to be the Holy Grail of Jack's cuisine crusade, I showed it to him.  He was now on the couch, lounging comfortably, having consumed all of two bites of his yogurt and a few slugs of chocolate milk.  The following conversation ensued:

TJ:  Jack, look what I found! [Proudly brandishing the Scooby-Do Go-gurt.]  You want it?

Jack:  [Eyes never leaving Wonder Pets,]  No thanks. 

TJ:  Why not?

Jack:  [Again, eyes fixed on Wonder Pets,]  It's old.  

TJ: What?

Jack:  It's too old to eat, Daddy.

TJ: [In classic parent-to-child patronizing tone,] Okay then, I'm going to throw it away.  And if you get hungry later and want Scooby-Do Go-gurt, you'll be sorry because you had the chance to eat it and you didn't.

Jack: [Turning to finally address me, and shrugging his shoulders,] Okay, throw it away.  I'll just get another box tomorrow. 

Sam Laughs, Falls Down: A Compilation

(With the help of Jack, a large foam dinosaur, and iMovie)

Zi6: Test Run. (Lesson learned)

High definition videos are huge.  Huge videos take forever to upload.  That little 10 second clip took 45 minutes to send to Blogger, and then another 30 some to "process" which means, "reduce quality."  So in other words, I spent one hour and 15 minutes in frustration so Blogger could take my beautiful 720p video and make it smaller.  A little counterproductive, don't you think?

Zi6: Test Run.

Sam hanging out on the bed.

Jack and Sam's Place: Now With Video.

I bought a Kodak Zi6 since our tape-based video camera doesn't hold a charge for more than about 2 minutes.  That's just a tad bit annoying when you want to take video of kids doing crazy things.  

The Zi6 is neat because it shoots in 720p "high def" at 30 and 60 frames per second.  It's not cinema quality, but it'll get the job done and that's what's important.  Plus, it was very inexpensive, and beat out higher priced competitors.  

I hope to finally have a reason to put iMovie to good use.  

Cutest Baby Picture Ever.

 

But we're biased. 

Sam is sitting up.

We're making progress!  Sam is now sitting up on his own.  Oddly enough, he still cannot fully roll over, so the order of things is a bit odd, but we're happy that he can entertain himself for short periods of time.  That's great news for the overworked parents.  Video to follow.

Much Ado About Chickens

What's the deal with chickens? Within the past days, I've become aware of two fellow "mommy bloggers" who have decided that the world is sufficiently lost (at least Alan Keyes thinks so*) and investing in baby chickens is sound advice in these trying times. I surmise that the investment is made in hopes that they (the adolescent ground-peckers) grow into egg-output vehicles, yeilding eggs for family use and consumption. When I first learned of one family's foray into urban chicken farming, I chuckled and resolved that clearly this family had too much free time on their hands. (The husband brews his own beer, but that's clearly a worthwhile and necessary enterprise, with which I take no issue and support wholeheartedly.) Shortly, more chicken-related posts followed, here and here.

But within days thereafter, I learned of another, venturing into this "fowl" territory: my overachieving-law-school-colleague/smartypants-turned-mommy-blogger. Now they had my full attention.

So I pose the question: Really? Chickens? What you buy prepackaged from Fry's or Safeway just aren't satisfactory? Even PETA has weighed in on this issue.

[* No, I do not endorse Alan Keyes. It was just a funny segue and something that popped into mind while writing that sentence. I guess I could have simply linked a graph of the Dow since the election, but that's a little too painful for many of you readers.]

[3/15/09 - I was told not to call myself a "mommy blogger."  Isn't that self evident?  I am the MOTHER OF ALL BLOGGERS.  Just kidding.]