He's Nothing If Not Honest

C seems to be stealing the show lately on my little blog. Maybe its just the age. He's just funny, in a completely nonchalant, unintentional way. He doesn't even know how funny he is.

The other day he's being a goof, marching around the kitchen. He's in and out of the pantry, around the island, strutting his stuff.

"What are you doing?" I ask him.

Without any hesitation he answers, "I'm tooting."

Adventures With Mr Mom: Instructions Required

James tries very hard. His boys adore him, and for the most part he is an exceptional father. On Sunday morning he gave me the one thing I want more than anything in this world...SLEEP! After two nights of sick kidlets, I was exhausted, and he graciously took both boys while I was lazy. He and the boys woke me just after 10am with a tag-team "kiss" ambush that reminded me of WWF, and after much giggles and jumping around, he watched them some more while I showered and got dressed. It was lovely. I very much enjoyed it.

Around 11 we left the house, James had gotten them dressed, we had milk cups in tow, and went to face the world. Not five minutes from the house both the boys were whining in the back, in a chorus of "I wants". That's when it occured to me, "James, did you feed the kids?"

"No," he replied, "You told me to watch them"

Sigh.

Adventures with Mr Mom: The Bath Tub Incident

Saturday my neighbour had an open house to showcase her custom jewellery (check out her website for Stone Petal Designs). It was just after six, we'd had an early supper because the kids were wiped and we were set to put them to bed early, so after helping James get the boys into the tub, I ventured next door.

Fifteen minutes later I returned home and was greeted at the door by K, which was odd because he should have still been in the tub. Enthusiastically K says, "Mommy! Mommy! C pooped in the tub!!" Uh-oh. Then James chimes in from upstairs, "never leave again".

Apparently in the 15 minutes I was absent, chaos ensued. First C pooped in the tub, so James, panicked to get them out of the water, just takes them out of the tub, and tries to deal with the situation at hand. As he's draining the tub, a naked Colson wanders into K's room and proceeds to pee on his floor.

Poor Jimmy, isn't motherhood fun?

The Usual Suspects

On Tuesday I baked a lovely chocolate cake, and James and myself, and of course a bit for Keelan and Colson, all enjoyed a few pieces. By this morning there was a quarter of the cake left. Mmmm, its a great cake, rich, moist, chocolately, I was really looking forward to having a piece for dessert at lunch. Lunch was supposed to be leftover paella...supposed to be but apparently after I went to bed early last night, James helped himself to whatever was left of the paella and left the empty tupperware dish upstairs for me to clean up this morning (I love my husband...I love my husband...I love my husband...)

Fastforward to lunch, which I now have to cook, and this is what I come across:

The crime scene: The kitchen counter.

Facts:

Where previously there was quarter of a cake, now there is a sad, picked at, remainder of a cake

The scene has been left a mess, crumbs all over counter

A single, used, plastic fork has been left at the scene

Suspect #1: James (aka the husband)

** Scene has been recreated for dramatic purposes.

The facts:

• Has a known history of finishing
• off goodies without sharing, and tends to leave a trail.
• Had opportunity to sneak cake while Kidlets and myself were upstairs
• Enjoys chocolate cake

Suspect #2: C (aka Baby C)

The facts:

• Also enjoys chocolate cake
• Was upstairs at time of crime
• Cannot reach counter top

Suspect #3: K (aka K-Man)
**Note, suspect was prompted to make his best "mean face" for mug shot

The facts:
Has history of sneaking food without asking
Location unknown at time of crime
Has access to counter top

Did not appear to have any evidence on his person after crime, however did remove his clothing during the period the cake dissappeared

Now, given the paella incident of the morning, I was leaning toward suspect #1. So, begrudgingly I cleaned up the crumbs that had been left on the counter, and started making lunch (chicken donairs...mmmm, yummy enough to offset the frustration of having to cook when I thought it was taken care of).

As I'm making lunch, who should enter the kitchen but "the husband". C's in his high chair, happily plugging away at a freezie, K is playing under the kitchen table, holding a wonderful conversation with himself about Thomas and dinosaurs. James and I chat a bit about how business is going so far, he comments on how good lunch smells, and then he looks at the cake remnants and says, "you know, I've only had like 3 pieces" and looks at me as if I'm the one responsible for eating 3 pieces of cake since this morning (ok, i'm a closet eater, but even that's a bit much for me).

Okay now, let's do some math, a quarter of a chocolate cake (who's only ingredients are eggs, butter, sugar, and chocolate), one husband (formerly Suspect #1) who no longer appears to be guilty, myself, who I know not to be guilty, one baby, who had neither opportunity nor capacity, and one rather three year old, with a really guilty smile.

So to my husband, I apologize for jumping to conclusions, and to myself, darn, that kid really pulled one over on me. If he's already successfully framing James at three, then I am in a lot of trouble.

SNOWDAY!!

I read a post on a friend's blog (walkonthewildeside.blogspot.com) where she talked about seeing the kids' schoolyard spotted with snowmen and snowforts and she took a moment to be grateful that imagination is still alive in a time of video games and computers. So when we were hit with a mini blizzard on Saturday morning I was determined to take the opportunity to have some free, quality time with the family. Outside it was warm, and the snow was sticky, (perfect snowmen weather!) so we all bundled up and played in the yard.


One of the families down the street already had their snowman under construction, four layers high, they were using a ladder to add the finishing touches. Not to be outdone James started work on the biggest (fattest) snowman I'd ever seen. He literally cleared the snow from out yard, it was all in the snowman!


K loved it outside. With the help of his dump truck he transported loads of snow and helped pack whatever he didn't eat onto the snowman. He also made his own little snow blob right next to the big one, and added buttons for the eyes and a carrot for the nose (which he promptly ate prior to any photo opportunity).


C is getting used to the snow, but its not really his thing. When K was a toddler he used to (and still does come to think of it) just lay face down in the snow. C, on the other hand, has a major meltdown any time his skin comes into actual contact with the white stuff. he gets frustrated that he can't walk easily, and his mittens make picking up the snow rather difficult. For most of our snowman adventure he just sat under our tree with his bucket, and cried any time a piece of snow fell from the branches above. Poor kid.



The finished snowman was great! K had a blast, so did James and I, and C did okay :) Check K out in this photo, he's taking a big bite out of the snowman! (Seriously, if you read my mealtime battles post this is just further proof of his tendency to eat everything in sight UNLESS its on the dinner plate!) The weather warmed up really quickly, by that evening the snowman looked more like it belonged in Calvin and Hobbes Snowmen House of Horror. Poor guy, writhing as he melts.

Oh well, we had a blast, hope you enjoy the pics.

You'll Never Guess What My Kids Are Up To

It's not even 10am and I'm sitting down to enjoy a nice chai tea latte. It's warm and I haven't even had to reheat it the typical three times. How is this possible? Why have I had this rare opportunity to actually take a breath a enjoy a quiet, solitary moment. My children are (dramatic pause) playing with each other. Actually playing. They are in K's room, playing with trains. Sharing. and its been going on for nearly an hour.

It started when C started crying to announce he was wake and ready to start his day. Too lazy to drag myself out of bed, I asked K to go say hi to his brother. K begrudgingly marched into C's room and announced in his growly "dinosaur" voice, "These are my trains and you can't have them" (translation: "Good morning"). But then something shifted. The dinosaur voice gave way to his regular, pleasant K voice, and I smiled as K explained to his brother how he had found his Thomas trains this morning and then went into his room.

Then K brought two of his trains for C to play with, and then invited him into his room to play. And they did. They played. No crying. No fighting. All I can hear is giggling and K telling his brother all the ins and outs of the Sodor trains and C babbling back. This is the moment that I had in my mind when I found out I was having two boys. This is the moment that gives me hope that they might actually grow up and like each other, that maybe the all the pinching and hitting and kicking and pushing will evolve into something that looks more like friendship.

Okay okay, overkill maybe. And now there's C crying, and K shouting "that's not funny". My perfect moment is over. My tea is still only half drunk. But it happened, and maybe it'll happen again. For today, that's enough for me.