If you give a Sprout a Sandwich

It's very, very cold.  The Arctic air has completely sucked all the creativity out of me.

So, I re-post.

This is one of my sister's favorite posts.  It just makes me so glad Sprout is past that stage.  So very, very glad.  

If you give a Sprout a Sandwich.  (Originally posted Feb 21, 2008)

(With apologies to Laura Numeroff, the author of the fabulous "if"series.)

If you give a Sprout a sandwich, he will throw it up.

Because you are talking to Sprout's daddy you won't see it right away and Sprout will be bored.

So, he will decide to finger-paint with his puke.

You'll take him upstairs to clean off.

You will have to leave for a second to get a washcloth.

He will be bored.

He'll root through your bathroom cupboard looking for something to do.

He'll try to drink the bubble bath.

So you'll give him a cup.

You'll have to rinse out his clothes leaving him with only his cup for company.

He will be bored.

He will solve the boredom business by using his cup to transfer water from the toilet to the tub.

He will be mightily miffed when you take away the cup and wash his hair.

He will decide to throw himself backwards which will cause him to bang his head on the wall.

You will have to stop washing his hair to calm a screaming, snotty Sprout.

He will use this opportunity to tell you that after all this work he has a"hun-gy tummy".

 So you will give him another sandwich.

Inquiring Minds

Several bloggers recently have taken to having their readers ask them questions.  Since I am a little backward, I have questions for you!

1.  Why is it that the smaller the item, (and thus, much more likely to get lost) the more my kids adore it and NEED it at bedtime?

2.  Are scarves really in, or would I just look like I am trying too hard?  I cannot make up my mind on this one.

3.  If I were to start wearing make-up (a HUGE if) what one essential should I start with?  I'm considering this as the past few weeks I've looked a bit like a ghost (with great boots) and would like to stop scaring small children.

4.  This one is for all you Southern Chicks.  Way Cooler is going to DFW sometime in the next little while and I want him to bring back some cornbread mix.  What would be the best brand?  I've tried to make it from scratch and I think you have to have been born south of the 49th parallel to do that properly.   So, what mix tastes almost as good as homemade?  We don't do cornbread up here as a rule and that is a horrid shame.

I would also like him to bring back chicken fried steak, biscuits and gravy and a Sonic, but I don't think those travel quite as well.   So I'll have to settle for what I can get. 

5.  If your child, (hypothetically of course) climbed into their bath and then proceeded to pee with great glee and abandon, would you drain the tub and start over, or just sigh and walk away?

This now concludes the rather monotonous questions.  The more you answer, the less you will be subjected to this in the future.  So answer early and answer often!

7 Quick Takes

1.  You know how Spud's swimming lessons were cancelled last week?  Guess what.  They were cancelled again yesterday.  Guess where I found that tidbit of information out?  Seriously.  It's like a very bad case of deja vu.  I'm waiting till I'm feeling somewhat civil, but an e-mail will be going out today.  

2.Last week the ever fabulous CC asked what a Tim Horton's Ice Cap is.  It's basically the poor man's version of air conditioning.   It's a frozen coffee drink (that I am sure is 99.78% sugar) from a Canadian coffee shop called Tim Horton's.  They are icy, delicous and totally addictive.   

For my non-Canadian friends, Tim Horton's is HUGE up here and basically sell doughnuts, coffee and killer soups.  The line-ups at the drive-thrus are always nuts and owning one is basically a license to print money.  The products are usually fairly good quality and significantly cheaper than the more frou frou coffee houses.  I think they were named after some hockey player, but whenever I hear the word hockey I tend to retreat to my happy place and stop paying attention so I cannot say for certain.

3.  It snowed again last night.  While I am no friend of winter, it sure is pretty to watch the stuff coming down.  There is something so calming and peaceful about white swirls against a inky black sky.  Now if it were calming and peaceful to drive in it, we'd be set.

4.  I have always said that in blogging you learn something new every day.  In this case, I learned that in Tonggu Momma's neck of the woods they do not have drive-thru coffee shops.  

Seriously?

I cannot imagine life with kids without a drive-thru.  If they had drive-thrus for milk, bread and  eggs I would pay through the nose to not have to get out of my car.  Which is saying something as I am usually so tight I squeak.  Drive-thrus are what keep me sane through the LONG, LONG winter.  The less you have to pull children and all their gear in and out of a car in -30 the better.  Long live the drive thru.

So TM, we are all so very sorry for you.  VERY, VERY SORRY.  You deserve a drive-thru.  

5.  I've decided to give something up for Lent.  This will be the first time in my life.  We'll see how this goes.  If you live in my neck of the woods and get cut off by a crazy lady in a mini-van I do apologize in advance.  Blame it on the caffeine deprivation as I am giving up all carbonated beverages.

6.  I'm taking the boys and heading to my parent's place for the weekend.  I made the mistake of telling them early this week that we were going to papa and nana's house for the weekend.  

To say they are excited would be the understatement of the century.  At least they've had something to talk about ALL THE BLESSED DAY.

To all the crazy internet stalker types, Way Cooler will still be in the house. He's 6 ft 4 and armed and dangerous.  Or not.  But really, do you want to take that chance?

7.  I've decided that true happiness is episodes of Star Trek Voyager on the DVR that I've never seen before.  Because one can never get too much Captain Catherine Janeway.

Head over to Conversion Diary for more quick takes. 

A Day of Geek

A while back various bloggers were taking pictures of a typical day.  I really enjoyed being a fly on their wall.   Being a little slow on the uptake, I am finally getting around to doing this.

6:00am

A London Fog, Beth Moore and time alone with the Creator of the Universe.  It makes getting out of bed so much easier.

7:30 am

This is just the first round of my children's breakfast.  They usually eat 3-4 platefuls of this.  I FEAR for when they are teens.  I may have to start selling my blood.  Or theirs.

9:00 am

The night before Sprout had mistaken his bed for a toilet.  I can see how that might happen, they are so similar and all.  This is the last of the laundry from that happy incident.

9:30 am-1:00 pm

I saw this a lot.  We went to the library and then Spud's therapy.  I am so thankful that my van has comfy seats, I spend a lot of time in them.  For all the cautious ones in my family, please note, this picture was taken when the car was stopped at a light.  I do not take pictures while driving, I am too busy texting.*

2:00 pm

With the boys safely in their rooms for quiet playtime I put together a couple of casseroles and some bread.  Before you think me a domestic queen, I make the dough in my breadmaker and then shape it and bake it.  It is a more useable shape that way.  This is about as domestic as I get.  I am only now noticing all the crumbs on the counter.  Classy.

4:00 pm

The rest of the afternoon consisted of stories, baths, supper and a game that involves monster trucks, my mixing spoons and running up and down the stairs repeatedly.  I've learned to not ask questions but just play along.

7:30 pm

BEDTIME.

8:00 pm

A solo shopping excursion.  Happiness is grocery shopping all by myself.

So, there you have it, a day in the life of a geek.  GLAMOUR all the time I tell you.

*Hey moms, I'm so very  kidding.  I do not text while driving.  Please do not call me.  Or Way Cooler.

Kickin'

As I may have mentioned a time or twenty before I am seriously fashion impaired.

Seriously.

However, my recent success with my little black dress has emboldened me.  I have this desire to rock the fashion world, or at least, stay off of What Not to Wear.

With this in mind, I was delighted when Big Mama posted a tutorial on how to tie a scarf.  She even included video.  Now,  I live in Canada.  Scarves are more a necessity than an accessory but hey, why not I'll try it if Big Mama says to.  I faithfully watched the video twice, pulled out my pashmina (from China even) and just about killed myself.

You see, when I wrapped the scarf around my neck I got it lopsided.  This is not a big surprise.  But rather than taking the scarf off and trying again I tugged with great vigour on the short end.

Note to self, if a scarf is wrapped around your neck and you yank hard on it, all that will happen is you will reduce your airflow.  Drastically.

One would think between this incident and nearly flattening my pastor I'd take it as a sign from the fashion powers-that-be and just give up.

But I'm not all that good at taking a hint.

Which is actually a good thing because I finally have reached a tiny bit of fashion success.

Meet my new best friends.

Yep, I got me a pair of fashion boots.  And for the record, can I tell you how much I love these things?  I can be having the worst day and then I  look down at those little square toes and all is sunshine and roses again.

This may make me the most shallow person on the face of planet earth, but I really don't care.  I've got great boots.  

Now I must confess, it was not love at first wear.  They have a serious heel on them and for the first few days I thought my legs were going to fall right off of my body.  But I stayed the course and now I can be wearing a pair of jeans that are a size that I NEVER thought I'd ever wear, a seven year old shirt and no make-up and I still think I look like Meg Ryan.

All thanks to my new best friends.  This fashion thing may work out after all.  

Is it Friday Yet?

Spud has been lucky enough to have swimming lessons specially designed for little ones with motor control issues.   It's been great.  My son who usually hates swimming and clings to us in the pool is finally relaxing and swimming with the help of his excellent instructors.

The only problem is the lessons are on the other side of the city.  At 4:45.  Which basically means I drive there and back in rush hour.

I really do love my city but the infrastructure was designed by drunk engineers.  It also hasn't really changed in 15 years and nearly 300,000 people have moved here since then.  Which makes for a city full of large parking lots which sort of resemble roads.

It's only once a week so we grin and go.

Today had been one of those days.  A Rum and Coke (hold the Coke) kind of day.

Spud had been whining that he did not want to swim with his instructors, he just wanted to swim with Sprout and me.  I told him that wasn't possible, he had to swim with his teachers.  He then informed me that they were not there.  I told him to suck it up.  He was going.

We got there, got everyone changed, calmed yet another tantrum and waited.   

Guess what.

The lesson was cancelled today and no one called me.  An hour in the car with Sir TalksALot and his side kick Chitty Chatty Bang Bang and no lessons.

Yee haw.

We couldn't even do a family swim as I can't hold both boys at the same time so we popped in the hot tub for a few minutes before the long drive home.  As we splashed in the water Spud looked me in the eye and said, "I told you they weren't coming." 

Some days it is a very good thing I am too cheap to actually buy alcohol.

It's Coming

The days are getting longer!

Is there any phrase more delightful than that? It carries with it the promise of spring and beyond spring, that queen of everything, summer.

The return of green grass.
The end of the snow.
Capris.
Flip-flops.
Wading pools.
Picnics in the park.
Bike riding.
Flowers.
Bubbles on the deck.
Popsicles.
Little boys in ball caps.
Hopscotch.

Tim Horton's Ice Caps. 
Freshly cut grass.
Road trips.
Late nights on the deck.

Hamburgers on the grill.

Dandelion chains.

I have come to the conclusion that summer is even sweeter when you've made it through winter.

It almost makes winter worthwhile.

Almost.

Holding On

I must make yet another confession here.  I'm not much of a hugger.  I never have been.  When I was a baby my parents had to lay me across their laps to feed me, I hated being held and snuggled.  It really didn't improve as I got older.  I will hug, but if I am hugging someone that is not in my immediate family, you can be sure I did not initiate that hug.

I don't know why this is.  I'm sure part of it comes from being Canadian.  I've got a story that perfectly illustrates what I mean by this.

On my first day of faculty meetings at my new school in Texas my principal called the meeting to order in this manner.  "We've got lots to cover today, so why don't y'all get your hugging out of the way first hand.  You've got 5 minutes."

All of a sudden I found myself in a hugging house of horror.  I had NEVER met any of these women before and they were all grabbing me, hugging me and talking a mile a minute to each other.  Most of my huggers never even identified themselves, it was just grab and go.

When I tell this story to someone from the South, they smile and hug me.  Northerners understand the full horror of the situation.

I do not hug those I do not know.  I pretty much need to have weathered a crisis or two with you before I am comfortable with that.

So, God in his infinite wisdom has given me the two most affectionate children on the face of planet earth.  If I ever sit down, my lap becomes the most sought after piece of real estate in the room.  They have to take turns snuggling.  I am hugged, held, petted, snuggled and kissed more than I ever felt possible.

And while I do feel loved and I am so grateful that they are affectionate, sometimes I must force myself to love on 'em the way they need.  It doesn't come naturally.  I like to sit without 45 pounds of wiggle on my lap.  I want them to LEAVE MY HAIR ALONE for just one day.

But every time I come close to vocalizing what I really want to say I am reminded of how short this time is.  In ten years they are not coming near me with a ten foot pole.  The hugs are gonna dry up in a moment.  And they will probably never come back.  For some unexplainable reason that does make me weepy. 

Above all, I want my boys to know how much I do love them.   So my lap, hair and arms are surrendered to two tiny bundles of love for now because they have my heart forever.

Cooking With The Geek

You know what I realized the other day?  I never do recipes on here.

There is a good reason for that.

I'm not really that great of a cook.  Oh, I can do the basics and don't ruin much, but due to limited budgets in times past, a husband who once threatened to throw out my cookbooks if I made too many new dishes and two very, very busy boys, I don't spend a lot of time puttering and experimenting in my kitchen.

However, as I was making my absolute favorite drink the other morning I thought it would be a shame not to share it with you.  If I can do it, so can you.  It's cheap and easy!  What could be better than that?  Starbucks is now selling these but you can do it at home for a fraction of the cost!  And you don't even have to get out of your jammies.

So without further ado (and trust me, that intro was a whole lot of ado aobut nothing) I give you, 

The London Fog.

Let's get started.

All you need is milk, An earl Grey teabag and Vanilla syrup.  I use the fancy Starbucks stuff because while their drinks are overpriced, their syrup is surprisingly not.  That big old bottle is 10 bucks.  And you can buy it at the drive-thru.  You don't even have to get out of your car.  BONUS. 

 

Now, pour the milk in a microwave safe mug.  Just look at those mad photography skillz.  

Pop that baby into the microwave until it is nice and hot.  If you are like me, you want it to burn your tongue when you are done.  If you are along the lines of Way Cooler, 30 seconds or so should do you.

Now you want to add the syrup.  Just a little splash'll do ya.  You can make that bottle last forever.  

Finally, dunk the teabag and let it steep for a couple of minutes.

Voila.  Happiness in a mug.

You're welcome.

Out of the Mouths of My Babes

My kids have been cracking me up recently so I thought that I'd share.  Just a warning, if you do not share DNA with me, this post will probably bore the pants right off of you.

Consider yourself warned. 

When I brush the boy's teeth I usually sing Agnus Dei.  (It's a long story.)  The other night I was brushing Spud's teeth and was sort of ignoring Sprout.  I really know better.  When I looked up, he was sitting on top of the toilet tank waving a drum stick like a mini-maestro.  It really is a miracle we haven't been to the emergency yet.

One night last week at dinner we were goofing around asking what everyone's name was.  Sprout announced that his brother's name was sandwich.   He has taken to using this semi-regularly to the utter dismay of Sandwich who does not like this new moniker at all.  I'm no help either because I think it is pretty funny and call him by  that name as well.  I'm all about giving him lots to talk about in therapy.  

Spud can now put on his own socks.  This is a huge achievement for my low muscle-tone boy.  However, sometimes it doesn't go as well as he would like and he cries out "my sock is just not obeying!"

Last week Sprout was doing some cleaning up in the playroom.  He was spinning around with a stuffed horse and accidently let it go.  It hit me full in the face and GREATLY startled me.  So much so that I lost all common sense and told him to "just put the freaking horse away."  So he did.  Then he got quite delighted and yelled out, "look mommy, we have two freaking horses."  I don't worry about my kids learning inappropriate language at school, they'll be the ones teaching it.

The boys got a haircut yesterday.  They were showing them off to their daddy and Spud proudly told him that "my haircut looks much better than mommy's.  Her hair is a little bit messy sometimes."  While this is terribly true, it's not so flattering hearing it from a four year old who routinely wears his shirts backwards.

Things we Learned on the Way Home from Miami

* Customs agents can be a bit grumpy. Making sarcastic jokes while dealing with them can result in them yelling. Lots. It's a good thing this was pre 9-11 or Way Cooler would still be languishing in a Miami jail.

*If you rush and hustle to make your flight, (including running the length of the airport) it's pretty much a guarantee that your plane will have mechanical difficulties.

*Some airlines like to have you wait on the plane while they fix the mechanical difficulties so they don't have to go through the trouble of re-boarding you later.

*If a plane is being fixed on the tarmac, they cannot run the AC.

*Miami tends to be a bit warm in August.

*If you have to sit in a plane in steerage economy for three hours without AC you will sweat off all the weight you gained on your cruise.

*Planes that sit for three hours while being fixed (in the heat) can develop other difficulties that will only show up as you taxi out to the run-way.

*If your flight is eight hours late leaving Miami, there is a really good chance you will not make your connection in Dallas.

*When you are stuck overnight in an airport, they will not give your checked luggage. Instead, they hand you a cute barbie sized bag full of barbie sized toiletries, including 1/4 tsp of laundry soap.

*1/4 tsp of laundry soap is really not adequate for properly laundering sweat-soaked unmentionables in a Dallas hotel at one in the morning.

*If you wash your unmentionables at one in the morning they will still be damp the next morning. Very, very damp.

*Dining options tend to be limited at the DFW airport at seven in the morning on a Sunday.

* They put jalapenos in scrambled eggs in Texas. That's just wrong.

* Heartburn is especially gross at 30,000 feet.

*There really is no place like home, especially with your new (and amazing) spouse.