Because of HIM!

I am going on a date tonight, so this morning I decided to break from the norm and shower before the kids get home from school. That way I'd have more time to do my hair. I might even put on a little make-up, but I make no promises.

I put Davis in his crib and gave him a few toys. I explained to him that he wasn't going to be happy. I knew he wasn't tired, but I felt like he needed to be contained. I just don't trust him to roam the house yet. Trust is earned, and until he stops shoving pony beads in his mouth, he won't earn my trust. He did what any seven-month-old would do; he cried.

I set Chase on my bed and turned on his favorite show, "Super Why". I then proceeded to shower. As soon as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair Chase came bursting into my bathroom screaming like a banshee. I have only heard this scream once before. It when he dislocated his elbow at the library (in the "please turn your cell phones off" section no less). There was obviously something very wrong.

Now you have to understand there are two things that Chase really doesn't do, he doesn't talk, and he doesn't sleep. Yes, yes, none of my children really sleep, but he is the worst. He often stays up late with his dad watching James Bond and other movies the therapist would say two-year-olds should probably not watch.

So here is my child screaming his heart out. Very concerned, I jumped out of the shower and asked him what's wrong. He managed to sputter, "I'm scared!" It was really very cute. I didn't know he knew the word "scared", thus providing a little more evidence toward my "he can talk, just chooses not to" theory. "Scared? You're scared? Why are you scared?" I asked. He pointed out the bathroom door and sobbed, "because of HIM!" I would have been as impressed with him knowing the word "because" as I was when he knew the word "scared" except for the fact I was now scared. There should not been a HIM in my house! And frankly the last thing I wanted to do was confront a HIM in my towel. I never did get to borrow that little green gun and felt very unprepared to deal with intruders.

Slowly I peeked out of the bathroom door to see. . . nothing. Hmm, confused I ask Chase to show me again what he was scared of. He pointed to the TV and said, "Giant." Another new word, it was a bumper morning. "Super Why" (now his least favorite show) was telling the story of Jack and the Bean Stalk. Apparently Dr. No, Goldfinger, and Blofeld don't hold a candle to Jack's giant.

Farm Animal What?

I didn't even know Target sold rump roasts. Go figure.

When You Want More Than You Can Hold

That 8 oz bottle is just too heavy for two little hands to hold alone.

That Boy

What has the boy been up to? So much. In fact I contemplated keeping him home from school today just so I could observe him.

Hmm, school . . . he would be gone about 6 hours . . . not only would he be gone but they would attempt to teach him something. Oh . . . he's totally going to school, however entertaining he may be.

This weekend he started a store. Well not so much a store but, as he titled it, "A Place Where You Can Borrow Guns."

He isn't prepared to sell any of his weapons, but is happy to let you borrow them. Keep in mind he does require a deposit, but it will be refunded in full once the item has been returned. I found this out when I tried to borrow a lovely green little number, but sadly I left my wallet upstairs.

How do you keep a child like this busy at a restaurant? Let him borrow the digital camera (I am full of helpful parenting tips). Just watch the fingers. His pictures kept getting blurrier because he kept touching the lens.

When we recently went to a restaurant with family I let the boy take over picture taking duties. I won't be posting all of them, he took over 100. But I will be posting some of my favorite.

First we have Auntie Carol's wheel chair wheels. All four of them.

Next we have various food pictures.

Of course he took pictures of people. First we have Davis looking at a chip cross eyed. Then Crystal, then uncle Paul, and the very polite and very patient waiter.

How else could I end but with (my personal favorite) a self portrait of the artist.

Man that kids got big eyes!

Eating Out and Aprons

I had two goals last week. I know, I know, TWO goals! What can I say, I'm incredible.

The first was to go out to eat more than I should. Having my sister-in-law come to visit provided plenty of opportunities for that.

The second was to make an apron. I made three. This is the only one I have a picture of, but I quite like it and am going to be listing it on etsy today.


Thing I learned:

1. Sewing machines (even industrial ones) don't enjoy sewing through 9 layers of folded over canvas. But they will if you talk to them very nicely and promise them chocolate.
2. A good pattern can be your best friend.
3. I really do like eating out.

Help From a Friend

I have been so busy having fun, I've had little time to post. However, I just heard this story from a friend and decided to share.

I went visiting teaching today-- so I'm feeling Holy. When we were done I picked up my daughter, but I still had to take my visiting teaching partner home. We were on our way and my daughter was in the back seat trying to open something. All of the sudden I hear "S**T" -- apparently she couldn't get it open. I just looked at my visiting teaching partner and smiled. Nothing like your kids reminding the world of your imperfections.

It's a funny story, but I'm having a hard time relating.

The EnglishTeacher

When I spent my senior year of high school with my parents in Belgium, they enrolled me in a catholic girls school where (as it was Belgium after all) they spoke Flemish.

The only class I understood was my English class. The English teacher didn't really take a shine to me. As soon as I came the students wanted to know if my life was like that of a character on Beverly Hills 90210. It was not. I had come from a school in the US where I was known as the math geek. Again, I was not. But as far as rumors go, I'll take math geek.

Regardless, my arrival set off an all things American fire in the other students bellies that my British loving English teacher was eager to squelch. The students asked my teacher why they had to learn the British spelling and pronunciation in class, why not American? After a long debate it was put to a vote, he agreed to teach which ever English variation the most students wanted. He had just finished a long lecture about how it would be better for them if they didn't sound like Americans, and was confident the vote would turn out the way he wanted. It did not. I, personally, voted for Scottish, because everything sounds better with a Scottish accent. Don't believe me? Try it. Read the rest of the post with a Scottish accent. Come on . . . do it, everyone else is.

The voting results showed an overwhelming majority for American accent, but the teacher decided that 17 year olds couldn't be trusted to decide what was good for them (which really is true, isn't it?) and kept on teaching all things British.

Had I any idea that my husband would speak Scottish (it just so happened he was in Scotland while I was in Belgium) I would have fought harder that day. I aways wanted to raise bilingual children.

On second thought it might have been just too much for little Chase. Being a Korean American with a Swedish last name and set of European ancestors puts him in a unique group. Add a Scottish accent? Talk about an identity crisis.