It's TIMEOUT so shout it out!

Keith (God bless him) has been racking up the timeouts. He hasn't been subject to the timeout for very long. We started using the timeouts about 3 weeks ago and it works surprisingly well.

Today we were going a little bit stir crazy. Neither one of the boys felt all that great and they seemed to be out of step with each other. This morning Patrick was doing everything he could to get Keith to play with him in the "fork" (aka fort) but Keith wasn't cooperating. This afternoon Keith wanted Patrick's attention and Patrick was too busy watching Planet Earth. So Keith (powered by short man's complex) whacked Patrick on the head. Usually he follows his whacks with a cuddle and a pet. I was sick of this game and sent him to timeout.

As Patrick describes him, "he's a caution." He also calls him sweetie and cutie pie. All of these descriptions are accurate.

We're all so proud

Keith thinks he can talk. He carries on detailed conversations with complete strangers. He describes the sky, the pumpkins, his clothes, animals, everything around him. And he always uses the most colorful words and gestures. The only problem is most people have no idea what he is saying.

We usually know what he is saying. If he wants something he knows how to get his point across (Silky, Cookie, Water, MAMA, all the important demands of an 18 month old). Because his interests are limited it is usually pretty easy to figure out what he is saying.

Last week he discovered the art of enunciation. And alas he can say several words quite clearly. Especially the word we have all been waiting for: MINE

He's lucky he is so cute.

I would describe it as a hunger strike

I am back from Chicago in one piece. It was a great conference, my presentation went really well. I even went to two museums while I was there. And I did some excellent window shopping on Michigan Avenue.

The conference planners booked me a flight in and out on US Airways. I was on a really early flight so I could attend a dinner when I got there on Wednesday night. Anticipating at least an hour layover in Phoenix I didn't eat anything before I got on the first flight. I was shocked when the lady on the drop down screen joyfully presented the US Airways advantage.... Welcome to US Airways, where you pay for absolutely everything. We offer a wide array of Coke products at a 1000% mark-up. Adult beverages for $7. Plain old water $2 please. Correct change is appreciated, cash only!

Right then and there I decided that I was not willing to pay for anything on that airplane or the next three planes I was going to be on over the next two days. Here's the catch (and proof of my stubborn nature) we were delayed leaving Fresno which meant my Phoenix hour was shrunk down to a quick business call, a check-in with Kevin and the boys and boarding the next plane. The piece of the equation that is missing? Food! I continued to refuse food and drink throughout the long flight to Chicago. I don't even know what was in the $5 snack box, but I don't care.

Upon arriving in Chicago 2:00 pm Central, I sought out the Starbucks like some kind of bloodhound. A venti coffee with cream and a muffin. Crazy caffeine love. And it wasn't even Friday!

Dear Mr. Airline Executive,
This is seriously starting to get out of hand. The generous folks at GCYF paid almost $600 to fly me from Fresno to Chicago. You can't throw in a bottle of water with that flight?
I am a bit concerned. I fear that you are going to continue canceling flights out of Fresno and start selling seats for "Lap Adults". I fear that I am going to return from a trip telling my friends to make sure they bring quarters for the airplane bathroom. I fear that you are going to weigh me and charge me $50 for every 100 lbs. I fear that you are going to charge me for a seatbelt. I fear that at some point you are going to take all of the seats out of the planes and we are going to huddle on the floors clutching our luggage in our laps.

I fly quite a bit (yeah, you should see my carbon footprint, kind of embarrasing) and you all talk about this choice that we have when we fly. Here is my choice, I choose not to get ripped off! That is my choice but it doesn't seem to be an option, no matter what travel website I visit.

You might remember me from my last communication in May. I am the woman who was screaming about great companies and bankruptcy and asking for her airline bailout money back. Not my proudest moment but come on folks, what part of this am I missing?

Oh and another thing? Your crappy old planes do nothing to inspire confidence. If I had a quarter for every time I heard the words Electrical Malfunction I could afford to buy two Budweisers on your silly plane.

Sincerely,
The Hungry Girl in 4C

You know you are the mother of boys if.....

Your four-year old refuses to distinguish between pink and purple.... AKA Girl Colors!

A Sophisticated Palate (TM Kaidie)

This was the first time Keith got to "help" in the kitchen. He started eating the white onion I was using for the sauce. Then Patrick came in and started taking bites from the raw onion too.




Keith then proceeded to eat the sauce by the spoonful.



Here they are eating hummus and chips except they both decided to just eat the hummus right out of the bowl.


My sister and I recently had the following text conversation about my nephew Jack:
L: He doesn't eat pizza sauce?
R: What!?!?! Did he say that?
L: Yes, he specifically said he wanted an olive pizza with cheese, no sauce.
R: You didn't actually order it for him did you?
L: Well, yes.
R: I don't know how I got such a picky eater.

Then we had this phone conversation:
R: I made muffins because I thought Patrick and Abby would eat them but Patrick said that he does NOT eat muffins.
L: What!?!? So what did he eat? Bacon?
R: Yes, and dry cereal. Don't be surprised when your son comes home with weird eating habits.
Sure enough Patrick had dry Cheerios on Monday morning.

Jack is picky but so is Patrick. Actually Jack is consistently selective, Patrick is fickle. But, as the title would suggest the child has quite the sophisticated palate. First, the things he won't eat:
1) Cheese
2) Sandwiches (except PB&J, no crust)

It kind of narrows down the options when you can't put cheese on anything!

But check out this weird stuff that he will beg for:

1. Brussel sprouts
2. Sushi (not California Rolls, the real stuff)
3. Onions (Raw but he has a special fondness for carmelized onions)
4. Expensive cuts of beef
5. Hummus (by the spoonful)
6. Anything that you call "PIG"
7. Brie (I know I said he won't eat cheese. He would never eat American cheese or cheese mixed in with something else. Give him the expensive stuff and he is all over it)
8. Any fish or seafood (he especially loves salmon, shrimp and lobster)
9. Balsamic vinegar
   
10. Anything that costs more than $10 per ounce

As I said, he is fickle. I spent $3.50 on yummy brussel sprouts one day, the next time I buy them he won't touch it. It is all about the eating mood he is in on any given day. I would rather know what I am going to get than have him spit out Filet Mignon one night and eat my whole steak the next. Our general strategy when he rejects something is to bring out the dip (ranch, ketchup, balsamic vinegar).

Over the last month I have noticed that Keith will also venture into new crazy foods (as evidenced by the raw onions above), if the mood is right. The good thing about Keith is (unlike his brother) the child will eat processed cheese!

I look forward to traveling with my boys (more, without the diapers) and exploring new foods. Because a vacation is only as good as the food that you eat. We live to eat around here people!

I made bread....so what?

I'll tell you "so what".... IT WAS (deleted euphemism for a four letter word) GOOD!!!


Despite what I said previously about the news, I was reading Rough and Tumble this morning and I came across this article. I'll describe it for those of you practicing my news briefing style. It has nothing to do with baking bread but the mother in the story is described as, "a stay-at home mom who makes most of the family meals and bakes her own bread."

Seriously, what is going on with all of this bread-making craziness! And even more seriously, it ain't that hard. I know I made a big deal out of it but bread is what 5 ingredients? Patrick could have done it without me.

We used a Martha Stewart recipe (of course) for Honey Whole Wheat Bread, it was nutritious and delicious. And check it out... We HEART Butter! We had a little lesson about yeast and everything.

Oh, and the $400 loaf of bread was actually a $414.97. Just the King Arthur bread flour was $5.99 plus whole wheat flour, plus wheat germ. Obviously we didn't use all of it and I am sure we will make bread again.

I still don't know why society is pressuring me to make bread. But what I did realize is this weekend bread making was an indicator of my need to nest before I go out of town. I am looking forward to the experience in Chicago this week but I really want to stay home and make these awesome Halloween votives. Oh well, such is life.

Kiss Your Mama With That Mouth?

aka alright already Bad Mommy, check your language at the door.... I am almost too embarrassed to post this one.

The other day in the middle of dinner I asked Patrick to do something and he looked me dead in the eye and said, "Whatever." The "whatever" was accompanied with the perfect half-eye roll, you know the move, the eyes go up and to the right, not a full eye roll, just enough to spark rage in both of his parents. He was immediately sent to timeout, tears, apologies, promises of harsher punishment. While he was on timeout we looked at each other and said, "where did that come from?!?!" I'm still not sure but I did tell my sister that I blamed her when she shot me a whatever the other day.

Now I suspect that I have only myself to blame, natch. Tonight we got home and I realized I forgot Keith's milk. Patrick heard me and joined in with, "dang it, dang it, dang it!" I can't remember what I said about the milk before Patrick started in with the dang it's but by the fifth dang it I was thinking "mouths of babes." He came inside still dang it-ing and told me "Mom, I say dang it, you say shoot. Shoot, dang it, shoot, dang it." I told him that neither word was okay and we should both stop saying those words. He said okay and went on with his life.

Swearing is swearing even with all the effort to use euphemisms. I guess it would have been a bit jarring to hear the actual swear words coming out of Patrick's mouth. But either way, shame on me. There is nothing worse than hearing your (bad) words come out of your kid's mouth!