More Miscellaneous Bits and Pieces

I am once again failing in any attempt to write a cohesive post. Therefore I present you with another edition of Bits and Pieces...

***It's a gorgeous day today - true Indian summer with a high in the 70's. It's perfect weather for trick-or-treating, which is good because we have a lot of goodies in case hordes of hungry trick-or-treaters descend upon the Menagerie House.

***Speaking of which, I highly recommend the Hershey's Kissables:


They are basically a Kiss-shaped M&M. Very yummy. I hope we have a some of these left after tonight, or else I will be forced to see if there are any left at Target this week.

***Vomiting ferrets are generally very ill ferrets. Ferrets don't vomit often, and when they do it's generally due to intestinal obstruction, which is a surgical emergency. So when we found Penny vomiting at 10:00 at night last week, Kevin (who is noted for his extreme patience) volunteered to take her to the emergency clinic. After spending three hours there (long after his usual bedtime), the diagnosis came back as indigestion. Which is good, and certainly a relief. I felt bad sending Kevin out in the cold for what turned out to be a trivial comlaint, but he told me it wasn't too bad only getting five hours of sleep that night since there was a good game on the radio. My husband is long overdue for sainthood, methinks.

***P.B. Bear is quite taken with the idea that some of his friends use the potty. He seems to find the whole concept fascinating. However, when I suggest that he might attempt to use the potty himself, the answer is, "No thank you, Mommy, I prefer to use my comfortable diapers. I'm much too little to use the potty." Seems to me that anyone using sentence structure of that complexity is most likely big enough to use the potty, but I'll assume he knows his limits and not push the issue.

***The latest update on Child #2 is that he (yes, he is a boy, and so it looks I better learn to like football and soon) is growing well, looks great on ultrasound, and unless something unexpected happens, we are on for a homebirth sometime next March. I think it's getting to be time to figure out what supplies we need to have on hand. Also? Two little boys in the house? That is very cool!

And that is it for now. I'm quite sure there is other interesting stuff I meant to post, but I misplaced my brain again, so until it turns up, this will have to do...

That'll Teach Me to Phrase My Questions Correctly

P. B. Bear has been a most unhappy boy the last couple of days. He's acting like he's getting sick (again), but there's no runny nose or fever. He seems tired, yet he's been sleeping fine. He denies pain, hunger, itching, stuffiness, or crumbs (cramps) in his tummy. But tonight we had a breakthrough...

Me: "P. B., are your teeth bothering you?"

P. B.: "Nnnoo!"

Me: "Does your head hurt?"

P. B. "Nnnoooo! Waaahhhh!"

Me: "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

P. B. (bursting into tears): "Nnnooooo, I just can't. I just can't."

Me (to self): "I wish I could put my finger on what's troubling you."

P. B. (brightening considerably): "Mommy! Look at my finger! Aaaahhhhhhh!"

And with that he opened his mouth and pointed out two half-broken-through two-year molars. They weren't there two days ago, I swear.

Hopefully once he gets the top molars in, we'll be through this teething stuff for a while!

Dang Pregnancy Hormones

The last few weeks I've been reminded of the emotional whiplash that goes on with pregnancy. Those hormones do a real number on me, and I'd conveniently managed to forget about it since I was pregnant with Liam. When I'm happy, I'm really happy, when I'm tired, I'm exhausted, and when I'm not in a good mood, look out world. I've also been fighting with a bit of a funk recently, so that hasn't been helping either.

The other night I was angry with Kevin. I started digging into him about something, and then he asked, "What are you so mad about?" And darn it if I couldn't remember. I don't get mad that easily, but this time I was really mad. Then the whole situation just seemed overwhelmingly unfair - I'm busy being all mad, and get so busy actually being mad that I can't remember why I'm mad. Those pregnancy hormones have a strange sense of humor. And, no, I still have no idea what was upsetting me.

This morning just to get out of the rut I've been in, I offered to take Liam to the local children's museum. He of course, was thrilled, and was talking about the exhibits he'd play with when we got there. Alas, we arove to find that I'd forgotten one crucial fact. The museum is closed on Mondays. I was really upset. And feeling quite stupid. Pregnancy hormones are fatal to memory, and I'd managed to forget that aspect of things as well.

Since we were in her town, I thought for a moment of calling Suzanne and asking if she and the kids were up for playdate. But then I remembered she's in Rome. So I asked Liam if he'd like to find a park and play and then go out to lunch. That was a winning idea with him, until after 20 minutes of driving around a town I barely know I failed to find a park. I pulled in at a farm thinking he'd like to do some pumpkin picking, but when I looked in the mirror, his eyes were brimming and his lower jaw was quivering. "Mommy, I actually in fact just want to go home," he said. So we did. And had a fine afternoon playing with his airplanes, the frustrations of the morning a distant memory.

So the morning stunk, while the afternoon and evening were just fine. Not that I'm questioning the just fine part, but now I'm really wondering what emotions will present themselves tomorrow.

P. B. Bear, King of "Why"

Oh sure, that little boy looks all sweet and innocent, but I assure you he is capable of driving his Mommy absolutely insane with the sheer number of questions he can generate in one short car ride (and these are only a few of his questions today):

1. "Why do we pull over for fire trucks?"
2. "Why are dalmations spotted?"
3. "Why are dalmations speckled?"
4. "Why are dalmations speckled and spotted?"
5. "Why are fire trucks in such a hurry?"
6. "Why are fire trucks so loud?"
7. "Why are fires dangerous?"
8. "Why do police cars follow fire trucks?"
9. "Why are firemen always washing their trucks?"
10. "Why are there fire hydrants on every street?"
11. "Why can't we open the hydrants?"
12. "Why do the rescue units follow the fire trucks?"
13. "Why do fire trucks have red flashy lights?"
14. "Why do police cars have blue flashy lights?"
15. "Why do tow trucks have yellow flashy lights?"
16. "Why doesn't our car have flashy lights?"
17. "Why do fire trucks have tall ladders?"
18. "Why do firemen wear hats?"
19. "Why do firemen wear air tanks?"
20. "Why aren't you answering me anymore, Mommy?"

"Because, son, I'm marveling at the construction of the maternal brain. I'm thinking that it's the most amazing thing in the world that I can love you more every day, yet at the same time desperately want to yell, 'Be Quiet! My kingdom for five minutes of quiet!' You see?"

21. "I love you, too, Mommy. Why do you have a material brain?"

P. B. Bear, Fire Chief

P. B. Bear has developed a fascination with all things fire station related. He has a fireman's hat, books about fire trucks, a fire truck puzzle, and he spends hours imagining he is putting out fires up and down the street. However, the following conversation makes me wonder if this fascination isn't more of an obsession:

Liam: "Mommy, can you find me some white paint?"

Me: "What do you need white paint for, Liam?"

Liam: "Nooo! I'm not Liam. I'm calling myself P. B. Bear these days. And I'm Fireman P. B. Bear."

Me: "OK! Nice to meet you Fireman P. B. Now, why do you need white paint?"

Liam (quite exasperated): "I'm a fireman! And I need a dalmation!"

Me: "Oh! So you want to paint a dalmation. Do you need some paper as well?"

Liam (really mad now): "Nnnooo! I have a real dalmation. Casey is my dalmation. But he's all black is the problem. He needs white patches!"

Me: "Oh my......."

Stay tuned for tomorrow's episode of Fireman P. B. Bear.

Cousins

We've been having fun with family visiting this week. P. B. Bear is especially happy to have his four-year-old cousin, Ethan, here. Nothing like a live-in playdate!


Ethan taught P. B. Bear to play hide-and-seek. Neither boy figured out that hiding next to a barking dog isn't a particularly effective strategy. And yes, Ethan is from Texas. Was it the Longhorn jersey that gave it away?


Yesterday we took the boys to the Crayola Factory. I always thought it was the actual crayon factory. That turns out not to be the case. Although the real factory is also in Easton, PA, the Crayola Factory is more of a kids' museum that centers around arts and crafts for the children. But the boys had fun with the activities, and I can't complain about art projects that don't necessitate parental clean-up.


I love this product the boys are playing with in the above two pictures. Liam hates Play-Doh, so I was sure he'd hate Model Magic as well. It turns out this stuff is not sticky, and it smells better than Play-Doh. Also, if you role it into a ball, it bounces! How cool is that? What will those clever polymer chemists think of next?


Nothing like an indoor sidewalk for scribbling your alphabet.


"Hey, Gran-Gran, can I stay here with you and Ethan all day until tomorrow?"

As you can see, both boys had the time of their lives. Unfortunately, today was the last day of their visit. Ethan and his mom, Janet, had to fly home tonight. I wish there was some way to shorten the distance between New Jersey and Texas. Hopefully we'll be able to get the family together again soon. In the meantime, we're consoling P. B. Bear with the fact that Gran-Gran is still in town, and will be through the beginning of the week.

Back to Ignoring the World

We've got lots of extended family visiting this weekend, and the weekend has been lots of fun for everyone. The rest of the family took off for a local museum this morning, leaving me with unexpected computer time. Since I never know what's going on in the news, I thought I'd catch up on current events.

Today is not the day for that activity, I've learned. Let's see, we've got bombs, contaminated lettuce, and contaminated juice. Oh, and lookee! Another school gun incident.

Then again,there's this:



I'm glad to know someone's still got a sense of humor.

Excuse while I take Casey for a walk and go back to ignoring the world.

Move Over, Zeph

Apparently Zeph doesn't live here anymore. Oh, sure, the little boy formerly known as Zeph is still here, but he is now known as P. B. Bear. He's in love with the P. B. Bear books, and I guess I shouldn't attempt to dissuade him given P. B.'s enviable sleep and toothbrushing habits....

Me: "Hey, Zeph, do you want a drink?"

Zeph, "Nnnooo! I aren't Zeph!"

Me: "Um. Well, then, who are you?"

Zeph: "Silly Mommy, I'm P. B. Bear. And I still like trains and macaroni and cheese."

Me: "Oh. Well, then, OK. Nice to meet you, P. B. Bear!"

P. B. Bear walked off in deep thought, and then returned...

P. B. Bear: "I'm P. B. Bear. And Casey is Casey P. B. Bear. And you are Mommy P. B. Bear. Eh, why am I P. B. Bear?"

And then he walked off again, mumbling, "Why am I P. B. Bear?" over and over. I got the distinct feeling he was looking for the true meaning of life or something equally profound. If he discovers the answer I'll be sure to let y'all know.

Wish Us Luck, Full-Length Version

Zeph has a dentist appointment at noon today. He doesn't want to go.

Why?

"Mommy, I just want to stay at home. I don't want to have dents put into me."

Excuse me while I attempt to explain the vagaries of the English language at a level appropriate for 2-year-olds....

10:30 Update: Zeph has agreed to come to the dentist, "but Zeph is going to keep his mouth shut tight."

8:30 PM Update: Zeph survived the dentist. It took three toys and two toothbrushes and much cajoling, but he did in fact open his mouth for a few seconds at a time. Thankfully we don't have to return for another six months.

Conversation on the way home:

Zeph: "Why do we go to the dentist?"

Me: "To get our teeth cleaned."

Zeph: "Why do our teeth get dirty?"

Me: "Because food and stuff gets stuck in there over time."

Zeph: "Why do we eat food?"

Me: "Because we get hungry."

Zeph: "Why do we get hungry?"

Me: "Hey, Zeph, why do you ask 'why' so much?"

Zeph: "Because I tend to ask 'why' a lot. Why do I ask 'why'?"

Me (head spinning, convinced I will never survive the "why" phase): "I have no idea, son. That's why I asked you in the first place. Could you ask a question that doesn't start with 'why'?"

Zeph: "No. Why are we stopped?"

Me: "Because we're at a red light."

Zeph: "Why can't we go through the red light?"

Me: "Because there's a rule that says we have to stop at red lights."

Zeph: "Why is there that rule?"

Me (giving up completely): "I have no idea, honey."

Zeph: "Well, I wanna see the rule. Where is it?"

My head hurts.

Hamster 1, Austrian Airlines 0

Because I'm a sucker for story that involves cute fuzzy critters and chaos, I'm loving this story. I'm also very glad I'm not the pilot who had to inform passengers of the travel interruption.