A child's view of food storage

On the way home from Ballet today she says "Mom, sometimes it's ok to eat boogeys" "no," I say, "not really. You should use a tissue" and the conversation continued thusly;

BG. But sometimes, if I don't have a tissue I could just put them in my mouf
Eva. No, it's still not ok to put them in your mouth
BG. (earnestly) But I need a snack! I'm really Hungry!
Eva. (stifling a laugh) Boogeys aren't snacks baby.


Perhapse the most amusing bit of the interchange was the memory it brought to mind.
Once as a child, pondering the universe and the contents of my nose, I remember telling myself "any time I need a snack I can just reach inside my nose and get one!" I was totally unprepared for virus-free snacking emergencies.

sweet child

Baby Girl, it seems, is quite taken with the idea of songs having actions.
Just now as I sang her the favorite lullaby she supplied actions...

"My Pigeon House I open wide and set all the birdies free"
She made peeping beaks with her fingers
"They fly o'r the hills on every side and light on the tallest tree"
flapping hands
"And when they return from their merry merry flight, they for their wings and way good night"
folding arms
"coo-a-roo coo-a-roo coo-a-roo coo-a-roo coo-a-roo coo-a-roo coo-a-roo"
Peeping beaks again with the action for "grow" she learned on Sunday in Primary thrown in for a little extra flavor.

And after tucking her plastic caterpillar in to his little kleenex bed on her night stand, she sang him a lullaby too. I don't know if it was complete with actions though, as I was in here typing by the time she began to sing.

uuuuuuuuh, hhmm

I'm in a bit of a funk.
I've been sitting around my house all week thinking of all the things that need doing while at the same time unable to come up with anything to actually do.
We're planning to move baby girl into the guest room so she's been sleeping in there but all of her stuff is still in the bedroom with Tiny Boy. Before I can move her stuff, I have to have a place to put it which means shelves and dresser, and you know, things I don't have so I sneak out her jammies before Tiny goes to sleep and and think about moving her for real.
Then there's the issue of the office/sewing room. It is a fat mess. I suppose it really has been worse, but the current mess is stifling me. After 2 weeks of working on it here and there I finally got the ironing board cleaned off which was a huge accomplishment. Still, there are piles of things left to contend with. I need an organizational system for my stash. I organized it all before Christmas but I acquired more stashage during the holidays and the yarn and ribbon had no better home than grocery sacks to begin with so the closet is something I dread.
I did a fair amount of laundry this week. That should give me some sense of accomplishment, but it hardly makes up for all I haven't done.
I am itching to do something creative but the dreaded closet stands in my way.
What's a girl to do?

Oh there you are!

I mentioned last week that I'd started the South Beach Diet.
Every so often I need to go through phase one to reset my standard. When I've let my eating/cooking habits slip so far that I can't get back on track through less extreme methods, the 2 weeks of phase one works wonders.
I think it is so effective because it forces me to think, prepare and actually cook 3 times a day.
I suppose making a salad at lunch time does not actually count as cooking but it does make me take time to sit and eat and think about what I am eating. For the past few months I've just been making quick stops at the pantry throughout the day which makes it awful hard to know what I've actually consumed and nearly impossible to decide whether I'm actually hungry or not at any given time.
So thank you South Beach, for making me think about what I am eating and reminding me that I actually do like to cook. Also, thank you for the seven pounds you freed me from during the past week and for today, when I got dressed and recognised my self in the mirror.
Here's one more message, this one to my mid-section. Hello, old friend, I've missed you since you went away.

with a satisfied smile

Long long ago while doing some post-marriage shopping I came upon the Fiesta Ware in Bed-Bath and Beyond. I was already possessed of an appreciation for the Fiesta but as I gazed upon the beauty of the aqua plates before me, the appreciation blossomed into love.
I decided that Persimmon and Cobalt would compliment the Aqua perfectly to my taste, and so it all began. Fiesta Ware became a stalwart item on my wish list.
Eventually Husband presented me with service for 4 in Cobalt and a year or two after that, Persimmon. Finally this Christmas, I received the aqua that started it all.
It's been a challenge not to stand before the open cupboard and gaze upon the loveliness at odd times throughout the day.
I think a fourth color would be nice but am yet to decide upon one. I think the Yellow might serve well as a companion to Persimmon who is all alone in a cupboard of blues but I am not fully convinced.
The biggest point in the favor of Yellow is that I can't come up with a rival color. Still, I don't love it as I do the others and I don't want to buy something I do not love.
Do you have any suggestions to offer color wise?

a million years ago

I made these reading pillows as Christmas gifts for our mothers. I ordered the pattern form Montessori by Hand a bit later than I should have so I only just got the it in time. I ended up sewing all 3 marathon style the Sunday before Christmas.
I was quite happy with them in spite of the rush -along manner of their construction.

I've ignored my children all day

I read Rebecca. One of my favorite bits was the reference to pregnancy as "starting an infant".
I'll be incorporating that phrase into my vocabulary from now on.
I've only just finished it and and haven't entirely formend my opinion of it as a whole.

We also started South Beach Diet today. I was doing quite well until I was so busy with the book and the ignoring of the children that I burned the dinner. Now I am wishing for a big bowl of cereal and no, salad won't do.

security for mother and child

Tiny Boy has a special blankie. It is a cotton interlock number by Amy Coe from Target. We got the first one as a shower gift and found that it was such an ideal blankie for swaddling that we bought a second.
After a few months went by Tiny showed a particular preference for these two. I had been trying to get him to love a stuffed duck because it would be so much easier to tote about, but he would have none of it. The star blankies, either one would do, were his own true love.
I've found comfort in knowing that if somehow both blankies, and the matching burp cloth went missing we were only a stop at Target away from restoring his love. Then it happened.
I was at Target on Wednesday and the Blankies are on clearance. My blanket security would soon be over! Gone with the last blue starred item in stock!
We were there again today, shopping for a baby shower, so right there on the blankie isle looking at the last few of the beloveds.
I kept telling myself that to buy more would be silly. We have 2 plus the mini version, plenty, to be sure. But tiny was a bit grumpy. Say, maybe if he had his blankie he'd be happier and I could finish my shopping! So into his loving arms went a third. Yes, I had the mini in my purse and it would probably have done as well but it's amazing the things one forgets when trying to find a reason to buy something.
I think I'm going to stash number three in the tippy top of the closet so it will be there safe and sound should the worst occur with the others.
I don't feel as secure with this arrangement as I did with a rack full of them at Target but it'll have to do.
Except that I just realized I have no back -up for the mini. I wonder if there are still any burp cloths in stock. I may need four or seven.

bleh!

I hate it when people add music to their blogs!
There is only one blog I've ever encountered who does so but I hate it. I hate it so much I just left without even reading any thing other that the sentence I got through before the dreaded music turned on.
The music interrupts my thought pattern. I get into a blogging zone of sorts and uninvited music throws it all off!
I's blog not a my-space page!

Graceful as a swan!

The first thing Baby Girl said this morning was "can I put on my ballerina clothes?"
That's right folks, today was her first day of Ballet class.
She's in the class on a trial basis for the month to make sure she's ready and enjoying it before any commitments are made.
It is a very low-key operation. A woman in the neighbourhood teaches in her dining room with a pvc Barre. This, I think, is perfect for a three year-old. If she ends up loving it and honestly wants to be a ballerina when she grows up,then we'll eventually find something more professional, but for now I couldn't be happier.
She is the youngest in the class by a year so we were doing some extra practice this afternoon on the trampoline to get her caught up with the bigger girls. This morning she was having some trouble doing somersaults, so we did a few of those together. Then she said she wanted to do a demi-plie (argh, I don't know how to type accents on here!) that is actual ballet! After another minute she started saying "Demi-plie-soft-A" as she jumped and landed on her bum.
I could not figure out where the soft-A was coming from. Perhapse she meant it was soft on her "a" when she landed because she was on the trampoline but how could she possibly know to call her bum an "a"?
A while later when I realised she meant "saute" I laughed at myself for my thick-headedness and we demi-plie-sauted away. She informed me that it is necessary to land on one's hinder if doing the combination on the trampoline.
My own little ballerina girl! who would have thought?

we've got a climber

Tiny Boy as taken to throwing fits if I carry him up the stairs.
From his perch in my arms he watches hopefully as each step passes beneath him. When we reach the top and he comes to a realization that the stairs are climbed and he did none of the climbing he bursts into tears!
Also, he likes to climb on this chair. He can't climb off however, so the hours of entertainment it provides him are worthless to me as I sit in arms reach waiting to prevent a baby splattering catastrophe.



P.S. The word "This" in "this chair" was supposed to be a link but apparently Ikea does not carry that chair any more. Either that, or I am navigationally challenged and simply can't find it. I am also too lazy to go and take an actual photo of the one in my house. Sorry.

In an effort to get back into the swing of things.

I spent my day unpacking toys and alternately groaning in despair and cursing at the over abundance of them. There are still a good many out on the floor with no hope for a permanent "away" in sight.
Tiny Boy is glad to be home and shows it my being the sweetest, most cheerful baby in the world, taking all of his naps and being generally pleasant.
Baby Girl, on the other hand, has been crazy. She's grumpy, disobedient and, due to exhaustion, very clumsy. The last of which resulted in multiple bumps and bruises all of which she wailed extra loudly over. Please, oh please, Girl, start acting like yourself again.
In other news, we are officially certified, and on the placement list for foster care. Our goal is adoption and I pray that we are not sent any children who are not meant to stay with us for always. I also hope we will not have any placements offered that we don't feel are right and have to say "no" to. I am not great at saying "no" even to insignificant things, I don't know how I could manage it.