Tag Archives: The Boys

Photo Hunt: Sad


I was going to broach the subject taking the word at its (other) Scottish literal: sad = pathetic, but I had nothing to back it up with, which in itself is sad because I really like to hone my self-depreciating humour.

This photo is no stranger to my site.  Small children have irrational fears of things they can’t and don’t understand.  This one?  Until recently was deathly afraid of the car wash.


I was sad when I got to Scotland and they’d changed the chocolate!  “No artificial colours, flavours, preservatives”.  It was still good, but missing something.


And, I’m sad because the theme wasn’t another adjective, thinking.
(He’s going to stookie me one day for this…)

A 3-year-old’s Guide to Haiku Fibbing

My happiest times
Are when they play together
Saves me the effort!

A quiet convo
With my travelling husband
He shared my happies

Thirty-five minutes
They were playing in Cam’s room
Did I speak too soon?

Off to the kitchen
To grab a glass of water
I turned, saw his face

My voice raised an eighth!
“Good grief! What happened Ian?!”
“He did it himself”

It’s talcum powder. Ask me how many times I’ve used it? I despise the stuff, it’s so useless. Okay, now ask me why I kept it.


Bryan, if you’re reading this: the kids are perfect angels, the house is spotless and I’m receiving a full eight hours of restful, undisturbed sleep.

Haiku Friday

Don’t Give Him Your Two Cents, You Won’t See Them Again

Swallowed a pennyHaiku Friday
It wasn’t me, but Ian
Popped it in and gulped!

He’s swallowing fine
Have to wait for small change
Will it be shiny?

Another Crazy Eights

Ella at Momisodes via Sandy challenged Ian and Cameron to do a Meme. I mentioned it and they want to do it dictation style. As ever, I have to do the grunt work and they get the credit.


The Ian Edition



Hello. My name’s Ian. What’s your name? How you doing? Do you have a dog? Why? What about a cat? Why? We have a bird. Do you like games? Why? Do you have brothers? Why?
1. I don’t have cool initials, they’re IEW. Too bad Mum didn’t spell my first name Eoin, then it would be AWESOME! I love to make people laugh. My job is to make Cramen laugh every day. I like puzzles and games and trains. I love LUV cheese and potatoes. Daddy says sugar makes me crazy, I love it in any form though. I’m tall for my age. For Hallowe’en I had to wear a size 4-6 costume. I also wear a size 11 shoe. I’m cuter than Cramen.


2. I LOVE to dance. My favourite music is Jack Johnson and that one Rascal Flatts song. My best book is Llama Llama Red Pajama. I like movies like Cars and Night at the Museum. Mum got the museum one for her birthday last month from one of my aunts. I watch it constantly. I plan to sicken her of it so she’ll just hand it over to me. It’s not working, she still laughs at it–even when I sneak it in twice a day. My favourite t.v. shows are The Upside Down Show and Charlie & Lola. I also enjoy The Poo Guy [Dirty Jobs] and dancing with Ellen [DeGeneres]. I’m not allowed to watch Little Bill on Noggin.

3. When Mum’s lying on the carpet stretching her back (she says I’m to blame, so I blame Cramen), I like to dog pile her when she’s not watching. She makes this awesome GAWPING noise. She gets me back by tickling me till I vomit. I’m really ticklish.

4. When Mum and Dad took us into Dillard’s the very last day of November to buy Mummy a dress for a Christmas party, I got mad at Dad while we were waiting for her to try it on (because it’s all about me, not Mum), and I called Daddy a “SHUT HEAD”. There were lots of people around and Daddy got mad at me. I have no idea why. Now Little Bill is banned because he taught me PEANUT HEAD. I like to substitute it with anything that comes to mind.

5. I have a cunning plan when it comes to eating. I enjoy cool stuff like salsa, avocado, cheese roll-ups, corned beef (hash), meatloaf and homemade macaroni cheese. I can’t stand cooked carrots or corn or peas or anything resembling a vegetable. Well, except green beans and potatoes. Mum thinks I’m picky. It’s Cramen who’s picky. Who doesn’t like bananas? Him. I also love all fruits like blueberries and oranges. Oh, and water, orange juice, cran-raspberry juice and chocolate milk.


6. Mum and Dad are excited because I’m 3½. They buy me cool board games and exciting toys now. I really like it. But I also think they’re reliving their childhood vicariously through me. They don’t know I’m using them. They love me best.

7. I’m a huge help around the house. I rarely get paid for it though, so I’m working on getting in contact with a child labour protection agency. I absolutely love to cook. I even have my own step to reach the counter. That’s what I like doing best. I help load the washing machine and the dryer. I pretend vacuum, dust with a Swiffer duster and wipe off smiley faces that Mum makes with Pledge. I’m also self-taught on folding laundry. Mum hates doing that, she says it’s a waste of time. Cleaning windows around here is a waste of time, but she still does it.



8. Mum said that last week’s theme was Dirty. She should have entered, I think. I have that one down to a science. I actually broke her of her perfectionistic tendencies when it comes to a clean home. It just depends on your level of tolerance on what you might deem as dirty–but you have to work them up to it. Here’s what I did:

Where’s my prize?



I did this too. They’d just re-painted my room a week before. Daddy accidentally had left a wet paint roller in a plastic bag in my room. I was supposed to be taking a nap. This is after the clean up and carpet cleaner got to it.



This
is some of my earlier work. Thankfully she got pics of that too. Go check it out. Not my best work though.

This was the Piece de Resistance. It took her 90 minutes to clean it. She still has nightmares. She says she’s glad Cramen is quiet and non-assuming. It was my first time out of a high chair. She’s the lightweight!

Crazy Eights

Ella at Momisodes via Sandy challenged Ian and Cameron to do a Meme. I mentioned it and they want to do it dictation style. As ever, I have to do the grunt work and they get the credit.

Cameron



1. My initials are CDW, Mum swears it has nothing to do with the software purchasing site. I beg to differ. She also thinks it’s funny to call me Cameroon. I’ll get my own back, right after I destroy all the naked pics she’s taken of me.

2. I’m romantic and love to take bubble baths with that special someone. Unfortunately, it’s usually my brother.

3. I might just be 11.5 months ladies, but don’t let that put you off, I’ve had a 12-18 months inseam for the past 2 months.

4. Unlike my brother, I’m not a picky eater. Put it in front of me and I’ll eat it.

Except cereal, I hate the bloody stuff.


5. I like to take long walks in the countryside. Who am I kidding? Mum walks, I chill.

6. My vocab is growing. Apart from “Mama and Dada”, I can say “aww dun”, “Ian”, “Baah”[th], and I’ve been caught saying “yes” a few times. Mum asked me the other day if I was thirsty and I said, “yes”. She collapsed.

7. I can toot-toot on demand. If you notice I do it and raise your eyebrows at me or say “whatwizat?” I’ll laugh and push a few more out. Yes I know, I’m quite the charmer.

8. I might still live with my parents, but I have my own crib. And, I set my own hours.

This is me having a Sunday nap in Mum’s bed. She loves me best.

Ian fell asleep, so his will be done soon. What a lightweight.

You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

You seem a little perturbed, how was your day?
The usual, kept the boys alive.  Barely.

Anything unusual going on at all?
Well, last Wednesday, Cameron was walking with his head turned to the side looking at something intently and smacked into the side of the t.v.  Luckily the goose egg went down, but it left a nasty bruise.  Friday night, I sent the boys into Ian’s room to play while I finished making dinner to get them from under my feet.  Not even a minute later, Cameron was screaming, then it went quiet, so I figured it couldn’t be too bad.  When I got there, he was doing the silent-scream-not-breathing technique.  Ian was hiding under the covers, he knew he’d done it now.

What happened?
Cameron had been playing with one of Ian’s toys (come on, he was IN HIS ROOM), Ian snatched it from him and pushed him over – right on top of another toy, with an edge no less.  He had a huge goose egg in the centre of his head and it was purple.

Kids bounce back so quick, they heal so fast.
Yes, you’re right, they do, thanks for the sympathy.  His scar is better, in fact it improved overnight.

There’s something else, isn’t there?
There’s always something else.  Toddlers/Pre-schoolers like to practice the art of walking or running looking directly behind themselves.  Ian is no stranger to attempting this maneouver; despite on-going safety warnings for the past eighteen or so months.  Today was a classic example.  At 4:20, Ian decided to run from Cameron who was in the kitchen with him and practice again.  Only this time, he smacked his face full force into the bird’s cage and took it with hi
m, breaking the stand’s fall with his leg.  He’s ok, but his eye is still swollen and scratched.

Kids are like that, he’ll get scraped up more.  Has he ever fallen over the cage before?
True, he will inevitably get more bumps and bruises.  And no, he has not.  But you see the thing is, that’s not my issue of teeth-gritting complaint, we’ve never had a family portrait taken.  Never ever.  EVER.  We finally decided to do one this year with the boys–make it special, you know?

When is it?
Wednesday.

      

And here’s a lovely update:


Notice the swelling and bruising. Sweet.

I Only Have One Thing to Say…

My house looks like a hatch door opened up in the ceiling and a toy store took a dump.

There’s No Skimping in the Design World When it Comes to Fancy Door Signs

I’ve been meaning to write for weeks, there’s definitely no shortage of material or news.


However, today, Ian has (I believe) Rotavirus again and I’m trying to take care of him as best I can.  At least this time at age 3 he’s:

  • drinking fluids (slowly)
  • responsive
  • potty trained

The first clue to sickness was last Friday morning at 2 a.m. when I was abruptly woken to “Muuuuumee!  I’m…*PHROAW!  phroaw  PHROAW!*”  “Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh”, was all I managed to mutter and yelp at the same time.  Key phrases in today’s lesson are:  Beds, carpet, washing machine, carpet cleaner and attachments and lastly, couch-sleeping-pre-schooler.

Bryan, the sweetheart that he is, stayed up with Ian all night and slept in the La-Z-Boy next to Ian, allowing me to rest a little and take care of Cameron.

Over the following days, I endeavoured to keep Cameron away from Ian, but the little stinker dotes on his big brother’s every move, and the inevitable happened at 7 p.m. the following night.  I can’t say I was ready for it, because I certainly didn’t want to be.  He had been really clingy with me all day and was eating sporadically.  I just couldn’t understand why at seven o’clock on a Saturday evening, he’d suddenly decided raisins were gross and juice was an abomination.

It all became very clear.

There’s definitely nothing like first-hand experience, especially if empathy is a goal you actively strive for.  But just one person is never enough, so the two of us decided to try it out.  Bryan first, and then me a day later.  At least we paced ourselves, you can’t fault us for that.

Let’s just say, being British, I love meat pies.  The closest thing I can find to what my Mum fed me growing up are pot pies.  Damn Marie Callendar and her freakin Cheesy Parmesan Chicken flaky goodness!  I’m still throw fiery daggers with my eyes at the sight of the box.  It’ll be a while before I can bring myself to eat another one of those babies.  You see, Rotavirus and I became previously acquainted.  You could say he was my 15-year-old boyfriend.  We were pretty close for three whole weeks.  Inseparable, you might say.  You may also know him by his street name, Gastric Flu or Gastroenteritis.  I’ve been there, done that, and still can’t abide the smell of cherries thanks to the re-hydrating sachet powder crap they tried to make me drink.  I’m not bitter.  Not after, what?  Ten years?  (Shut your dirty mouth, I’m 25.)

So life was slowly plodding on.  Days have passed and Cameron is eating like a bird (but at least eating), very picky, but still nursing and in great spirits.  No temperature and no crankiness.  Ian was doing much better, getting his appetite back and being adorably obnoxious.

On a bright note, the day started off well.  With no real excuse, I didn’t get to sleep til 3 a.m. this morning, my sleep broken a few times, and with one eye short of feeling interrupted, I can’t help but wonder how I’m making it through the day coming off well-spoken and coherent with all the mind fluff floating around in there.  My 7 a.m. alarm clock arrived at the side of my bed.

“Mummmee, my tummy hurts again.”
“Okay Ian, go in my bathroom”, perhaps said with a little too much flippancy, I might add.

That’s really all I remember.

My poor little Ian sat hunched over and helpless on the toilet.  As I stood there, wondering how to help him, he threw up all over his legs and on the floor.  I cleaned him up and placed him in the shower and took the toilet mat to the washer (that’s another story) and came back to silence.  No water flow.  Nothing.  “Wow” I thought, “he’s cleaned up fast.”  Not so.  I opened the shower door to see him throwing up down the drain.

It went on like this for an hour-and-a-half, and all I could do was offer vocal support, rub his back and run to the washer.

Incidentally, if you’re running on 4 hours sleep, and if you need to wash your red bathroom mats, make sure there isn’t a beautiful, baby blue, soft shag, terry cloth changing table cover in there.  Oh, and turn a light on.  Better yet, put your contacts in.  And if your child happens to refuse to rest anywhere except the oversized mat in front of the shower with a scrunched up bath towel for a pillow a mere half-a-foot from the toilet–when you take that bath mat to the washer, make sure there still isn’t something in there.  Needless to say, I now have a perfectly lilac changing pad cover and a positively pink Scottish football team onesie.

Lovely.

Bring the angry mob and the mallets, I need a sign and a barricade.  Make it 6’x36′, bevelled wood with beige vinyl lettering please.  “Caution:  Contaminated Keep Away.”  Oh, and wash your hands, will you?

Still Here, Somewhere

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat here staring at this screen wondering when (and if) to start. Yesterday I was ready to say I’m all done with blogging, but definitely not blog walking. It’s not that I have nothing to write about or nothing to say – I suppose I’ve just lost the will to blog. I can FIND time, don’t get me wrong, I’m not without some me time here…

Spaces has been such a great platform for me, I taught myself how to read and use HTML and I dabbled in design again for the first time since…well, forever.

Maybe I just need a bit more time to think about it. I don’t really want to give up on it all just now.

My two clones