See Scotty

I love to hold Scotty, and kiss Scotty, and sometimes just watch Scotty (but only when he won't let me hold him or kiss him).

See Scotty ...

... look cute and fat at the same time (and also discover a tube of toothpaste -- one of his favorite things to carefully pack around the house).

... watch TV.

... sing "If You're Happy and You Know It."

... smile for a fuzzy picture.

... vacuum.

... watch me.

Charitable

Grant's a sweet little fellow. One day while we were shopping, I had a few Werther's in my purse. I had intended to distribute them strategically throughout the shopping trip, so as to gain the maximum amount of good behavior from Grant as possible.

But Grant can be so relentless sometimes. He kept asking for another, and another, and another until we were down to the last one. As I handed him the final piece of candy, I told him, "Grant, this is the last one. There are no more left." I let him take it from my hands before I asked, "Grant, I didn't have any. Could I please have the last one?"

He replied, "Yes," and handed it back to me. I gave it right back, of course, because every one knows you can't take candy from a baby. But I just wanted to see how he would react. I was so touched by his immediate response. He didn't even flinch. I have noticed since that he frequently offers up the last whatever to someone he thinks has a need.

Sweet tooth and sweet heart!

Food Thief

Stealing someone's meal ... again.

Too Much Time Alone

Or, how Scotty escaped without a sound.

I thought Scotty was asleep. When I opened his door to check on him, this is what I found.Near as I can tell, Scotty used his mattress as a stepping stool to climb out onto Grant's bed. He was very discreet. I was completely taken by surprise. While I was playing Super Sleuth, Scotty was having all sorts of clandestine fun in the classroom.

This was an isolated incident -- for a few days, anyway. I moved his crib out of range of Grant's bed, so Scotty was forced to develop a new method. The next time he escaped and was captured, I picked him up (he, of course, screamed in protest), and I put him back in his crib. I told him to show me how he got out. So he did, whilst still screaming at me. (He took a short cut this time by omitting the folded mattress step.)
The task required so much focus and energy that by the time he reached the half-way point, he had to quit crying.
I gave him a big hug for his reward. What a stinking cute, mischievous baby!

Nicole and the Harmonica

It's Nicole's newest hobby. She bought it with her own money, and she actually plays pretty well. I suppose it's somewhat intuitive. She has also written some songs.

I played Blues Traveler for her to give her some inspiration, but I'm not sure what she thought of it, exactly. We danced to it, but I haven't heard any "Run Around" around the house yet.

Good Finds: I Made It Almost Myself

I don't know how we lived without this last year. Not only is it useful, but loads of fun, too! We use our giant white board every day. Of course, we use it for school (as pictured), but we also use it to write messages to each other and to draw pictures. Since it's so large (8'x4'), it's almost like coloring on the wall. In fact, where we have it placed, there is no wall space left on either side.

We bought this sheet of "thrifty white" at Home Depot, screwed it into the studs in the wall, and bought the dry erase markers at Wal-mart. All in all, this project took less than hour to complete (including shopping time) and cost less than $20. This will go down as my best find so far!

Some People Go to the Zoo ...

... and take pictures of the animals.

I go to the zoo and take pictures of my kids looking at animals.
Here's Scotty looking like his daddy.
Again.
All three kids played in the water until they were soaked, but somehow I only ended up with photos of Nicole and Grant.

They ran up the stairs.
Slid down the slide.
Jumped over water spouts.
And played so cute together.
Oh, and we did see some animals. But that wasn't nearly as fun as just being together.

Good Finds: Scotty and the Abacus

I've tried to design our new classroom so that it accommodates all of the children. We've started checking out books from the library specifically for Scotty, in addition to the ones for Nicole and Grant. I line them up on the floor, so they are right at Scott's level.

I set out block puzzles, games, and baby toys for Scotty to distract him from the cooler, bigger kid books, puzzles, games, and toys.

Even though school hasn't officially started yet, Scotty has already befriended the abacus. I was hoping he would look at it a time or two; maybe slide the beads around, if I was lucky. But he and the abacus are nearly bosom buddies. He packs that thing around the house like he does his stuffed animals, which are very near and dear to him, in case you didn't know.

As a bonus, the abacus isn't just an ancient calculator, but also a tool for almost second graders to practice multiplication tables. If only Nicole can get it away from Scotty long enough!

Getting to Know Grant

Grant jumped up on my lap, gave me a long squeeze tight, and divulged the following information. (By the way, since you're looking at a picture of Grant with his index finger extended, you ought to know that is Grant's usual stance when he has an important point to make. Listen up, everybody.)
Favorite ...
Letter: G
Color: White
Number: 10 (Everything is going to happen in "10 minutes.")
Game: "Hungry, Hungry, Hippos. Wait, no. Uno."
Animal: Mohawk (his stuffed porcupine that his daddy gave him for Christmas)
Food: "Pancakes, waffles, and German pancakes." (If you want my opinion, he tolerates pancakes, waffles and German pancakes so that he can eat a plate full of syrup.)
Drink: Milk (You don't say ...)
Treat: Chocolate chips and marshmallows
Song: "Beat It. Like Beat It." (This was pre-Michael Jackson death-hype, believe it or not. Someone gave me a mixed CD with 19 titles. After listening to all of them numerous times, this turned out to be the one Grant requests every time we ride in the car. Going on more than a year now.)
Book: There's An Alligator Under My Bed by Mercer Mayer. (This is news to me. I thought it was Chicka Chicka 1, 2, 3. We don't even own the alligator book; it's from the library. I should have suspected, though, when he asked me to read it three times in a row yesterday.)
Movie: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Cars, and Chicken Run

On animals ...
Mom: Grant, do you like any of the animals at Aunt Shari's house?
Grant: Yes, I like the kittens.
Mom: What are their names?
Grant: Don't know. They're called kittens. Or kitties. Or cats. It's like a match. See, it's the same. That's what Nicole says.
Mom: Does Aunt Shari have any other pets?
Grant: Yes. A big dog.
Mom: Is it a boy dog or a girl dog?
Grant: A boy.
Mom: I think it's a girl.
Grant: No, it's a boy.
Mom: OK.
Grant: I want to go to Aunt Shari's right now. I want to swim.

On occupations ...
Mom: Grant, when you grow up, do you want to be a doctor like your daddy?
Grant: No.
Mom: What do you want to be?
Grant: Don't know. (Anything but that doctor job!)

On names ... (Recent keen interest on mom and dad's names. When referring to us, he always uses our names -- "Arena and Quint." But when speaking to us directly, it's still "Mom" and "Dad.")
Mom: What is Mommy's name?
Grant: Mama.
Mom: What is Daddy's name?
Grant: Dad.
Mom: Dad's name is Clint.
Grant: No, it's Dad. You mama.
Mom: Who is your sister?
Grant: Nicole.
Mom: Who is your brother?
Grant: Scotty. (Good job!)

"I'm three years old! Like that, three!"

On Grant ...
Mom: Are you cute?
Grant: Yes, Mom. I want to eat chocolate chips.
Mom: Can you tell me how old you are?
Grant: Three. I want to eat chocolate chips, Mom.
Mom: Are you big or small?
Grant: Bigger. See my tummy? See? It's big. That means I'm bigger.
Mom: What is easy for you to do?
Grant: I can do a somersault. See. Watch. It's easy. I want some chocolate chips. Because. That's why. (Well, since you put it that way ...)

I guess we'd better go get some chocolate chips.

Still Thawing Out

I don't know how long it takes to thaw after living in a quarter-century long ice age, but I'll tell you what: it's going to take a lot more than a summer full of days at 114 degrees. Every time I open my back door and feel the warm air greet me, I close my eyes, smile, and wait to wake up from this dream. It feels like I live in Heaven, and I don't know what I've done to deserve it.

Apparently the kids love it, too, since they beg to play outside in our sandbox (post forthcoming) nearly every day.
Of the bunch, Scotty is, by far, the die-hard outdoors man. He runs for the door every time it opens. He doesn't like to be outside alone, so he cries if he gets abandoned because no matter how long he's outside, it's not long enough. He also walks barefoot on the rocks, to our utter astonishment, with those tender baby feet without even flinching.

Scotty started out easy with the water. Touching the water running from the hose, and such. No harm done here.
Oh, but just touching the water isn't enough. We must hold the hose. Feel the power. Ooh, feels nice.
Oops. A little too much power and water.

And before you know it, we end up with this.
But, as you can see, standing soaking wet in the sand box is so funny! (It probably felt really good. I'm not kidding about the 114 degrees.)
When he got thirsty, his remedy was to not drink out of the hose, but to create a man-made reservoir and then drink directly from that source.
It reminded me of the time he threw sunflower seeds all over the kitchen floor, and instead of picking them up, he ate them.
All too soon, like always seems to happen to good things, fun in the sand came to an end (but only for the day). Mother Hen Nicole cleaned herself up first, then took the liberty of cleaning Grant, much to his protest.
Scotty was last, but didn't mind -- as usual.

Picture du Jour

I have no doubts that this is only the beginning of a life devoted to cooking.

As many of you know, Grant is obsessed with the computer. Sometimes I exaggerate, I admit, but that is not the case in the previous sentence. Grant's first words in the morning are, "Mom, can I play on the laptop?" He cries when I make him get off. ("Time to eat!" "Time for your bath." "Let's go to the rodeo.") The other day, I thought it was time for a break from the computer, so I told him he couldn't play for a while. He kept asking, and asking, and asking. Finally, he turned to Clint and said, "Dad, will you please teach Mom to say 'yes?'"

Computer infatuation established, cooking is the one thing for which Grant will voluntarily leave the computer. He begs to cook. Everything. I. Make. EVERYTHING. Bread. Hot fudge (as pictured). Salad. Rice. OK, I could go on, but this list would never end. He likes to measure, pour, mix, stir, wash, cut, and sometimes just observe. He knows the names of my most common ingredients ("I want to pour in the vanilla."). He taste-tests the recipe in stages, and sometimes even eats the raw ingredients (butter, salt, pasta, oats, rice, raisins, chocolate chips -- of course) before adding them to the bowl. He likes to watch the timer count down ("It says three. Just like I three years old. It go to say 2, 1, 0, beep, beep, beep.") Grant is my unfailing cooking shadow.

A few months ago, Grant wanted to break the eggs for a cake recipe. I was hesitant to allow him to try -- for fear of wasting ingredients (my practical mom coming out in me) -- but was sort of forced into giving him a shot when he cited that Nicole gets to do it. I tried to explain that Nicole is older, and therefore gets to do things for bigger kids, but he kept up the refrain, "I big, too, Mom." So I reluctantly handed him an egg. Holding the egg in the palm of his right hand, he hit the egg on the side the bowl. I shuddered to think of how many shattered shells landed in the bowl, but when I gathered the courage to look, I found the egg in its place, and a nearly intact shell in Grant's hand. He was a natural. He immediately said to me, "See, I no too little. I big. I can do eggs!" He has cracked eggs ever since. Sometimes I make a recipe with a lot of eggs, just so I can see Grant crack them open.

The other day, I watched a movie for adults (rated PG, but chick-flick in nature) where the main character was a famous female chef. Someone asked her where she learned to cook, and she replied that her mother taught her. When questioned about training under another famous chef, she replied that she had trained under him, but that her mother was better and (as an added bonus) didn't throw pots at her.

I don't claim to be any marvelous chef, but I do enjoy a good recipe and quality ingredients. And while Grant happens to share my enthusiasm for cooking, I will share the kitchen with him.

Good Finds: I'm A Shulevitz Fan

Uri Shulevitz has captivated me again! This is a very personal book since Mr. Shulevitz tells us, in a way that children can understand, the heart aches of growing up in Europe in a war era. He describes the hunger he felt, and the rage inside him when his dad brought home a map (instead of food) from the market one day. His dad explained that he only had enough money for a tiny morself of food, which would have been consumed immediately, yet would not have satisfied anyone's hunger. Instead, he used the money to feed their brains.

It's a touching, true story that will remind you that people are able to overcome horrific circumstances and be happy no matter where they are or how little they have.