No It All

We’ve officially completed week 1 of Potty Training.  It’s been cold turkey.  Hard core.  A full court press.  As Grandma puts it, the Pee Pee Police are on duty… literally.  So far it’s going pretty darn well.  We’ve caught ourselves sinking to new levels of bribery… I mean positive reinforcement.  But really, everyone wins.  We’ve all really enjoyed our nightly cupcakes.  Though we did catch ourselves when James said (in his best game show announcer voice), “Use the potty and you could win a BRAND NEW CAAAAR!”

Of course there have been a couple of accidents.  And I heard about an incident at school where the first line of defense failed (sweatpants) and his shoes didn’t make it.  Apparently Miss Maria couldn’t control her giggling as she recounted the story to Dad at pick-up time.  It was either wear pink sandals from the lost and found box or no playing outside.  Poor JJ wanted to play and ultimately put on the “girl shoes.”  But he was clearly embarrassed and couldn’t effectively play and hide his pink footwear.

I’m pretty sure that will probably be the worst of it… which isn’t too bad I hope– we don’t support “potty shaming.”  Wearing diapers in kindergarten would be more embarrassing, right?

My kiddos are growing-up too fast.  Everyone says it and it’s so true.  A phase can last a couple of days or a few weeks.  If Mommy falls asleep at the blog wheel, entire tot trends can come and go in the time it takes Nate to unfold a basket of clean laundry.

Grandma and Granddad resisted a few months of both being Damma.  It’s now long over.  Auntie Anla-la is Angela.  Agualemon is watermelon.  Tee tats are kitty cats.

I just came home from 5 days in Vegas… forsey is now horse!

And the same holds true for the little one.  He says mama, baba, nana, something that sounds like “more” and something that could actually be “ball.”  Oh, and he says Dada.  He’s been saying Dada for months and I forgot to write about it.  Really!  I forgot.  Fine, don’t believe me.

Some of my favorite words and phrases of late:
* All taBOARD!  (train conductor style)
* Hey, wait a minute!
* I go be right back.
* What are we having today? (as he approaches the dinner table)
* Let’s talk yes-ter-day.
* Eddybody (everybody).
* Flower yogurt (vanilla).

Luckily, Nake is still Nake.

It’s Super Bowl weekend… and what better way to celebrate the super bowl than literally, right?

So far Day 1 of hard core potty training resulted in just 4 pairs of Thomas the Tank Engine underpants, 4 pairs of associated sweatpants and 1 pair of socks.  Half of these occurred within the first hour… which was cause for great concern as to the potential for the rest of our Saturday.  The daddy stomping and sighing alone had me gazing longingly at the bag of Seventh Generations abandoned on the changing table.

Jakey says all the right things… he knows exactly what we want to hear.  But then when it comes to execution… excuses, excuses.  It’s the Giants versus the Patriot.  The Patriot may have won the day, but the Giants will win this game.  You can bet on it.

Nate has started “cruising.”  This is the word they use to describe the phase where babies walk from one end of the couch to the other in pursuit of your remote control.

I think he’s probably been doing it for about two weeks.  I know, I know.  The youngest kids always get the short end of the stick… parents can’t quite remember their baby milestones as clearly and forget to note them down the way they did for their first born.

If I could get my laptop open without four chubby hands that “want to type,” then maybe you’d have a point.  Just enjoy the fact that we’re already beat down and after not even three years are loosening our parental regulations and standards… didn’t you literally take a bath with your big brother tonight while he drank hot chocolate?  Imagine the things you’ll be doing in less than two years time… brushing your teeth with frosting no doubt.

Today, Nathaniel’s teacher Melissa told me there were several moments where he stood for a few seconds without holding onto anything.  Melissa is Natesy’s rockabilly teacher.  She has cute pin-up girl 1940’s hair and colorful tattoos on her arms.  She once told me she hopes she has a body like mine after she has a baby.  She was most certainly buttering me up in the most effective way possible.  Melissa is my new favorite.

After school today, Natesy made a new friend at the bus stop.  He started blowing kisses to a pretty lady named Mina who is expecting a baby girl in May.  Already picking-up the ladies in public…

Then tonight during hot chocolate bath time, Nate used the comb to brush his own hair.  Just the little curls in back since there’s still not much up top.

Cruising, standing, kiss blowing, hair combing.  Perhaps next week he’ll graduate to hot chocolate serving.

I’ve been meaning to post an update on my newest little nephew: Devon George Tyrone Purnell!

I know from personal experience, that will probably be a two-line name on his future driver license.  I’m sure the grandfathers are pleased as punch.

We’ve already crossed doctor off the list based on pumpkin guts.  And now, his future career as a fortune teller has already crashed and burned…  before it ever got off the ground.

Baby Zinger was born happy and healthy this morning via C-section.  Drum roll please… it’s a boy!  Somehow, despite being a surprise baby, his parents entered the delivery room, girl’s name in hand.  I have no idea whether they simply reached an impasse?  I do know that he may be spending his first night still known as Zinger.  I feel fortunate that in our experience, we came up with two girls’ names and two boys’ names and somehow never revisited the subject.  I have a sneaking suspicion that the longer you go, the harder it is to decide… and you don’t want to compromise just to get past the hospital check-out counter, right?

When I got home tonight, Jacob was still in denial.

“Jakey, Baby Zinger was born today.  Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Her’s a ga-wol.”
“No, Baby Zinger is a boy!  Can you believe it?”
“No.  HER IS A GA-WOL!”
Honestly, he was not having it.  He had already had a similar conversation with his Daddy earlier today.

I showed him a picture of the baby on my iPhone and he softened his unyielding stance.  Instead of arguing with me, he became more interested in understanding why he had so many things on his little ankles.

Yes, the title of this blog is still blank.  I just can’t decide what to call it…

Tomorrow is Baby Zinger’s birthday!  If anyone is out there reading this blog, Baby Zinger is my brother Geoff’s very first baby.  Geoff’s wife Angela’s maiden name is Zing… thus the nickname.  Little Baby Zinger will be born on the 20th, just like its maternal grandmother and of course, favorite Auntie.

I love that the first time we came home after a Saturday at my parents’ house with Geoff and a pregnant Angela, Jake turns to me and with his typical shoulder shrug and questioning hand gesture asks, “Where Baby Zinger go?”  All the talk of some invisible baby had him a bit perplexed.

Ever since we found out about Baby Z, I’ve been asking Jakey to predict if it’s a boy or a girl.  In eight months, he has never deviated from his answer.  I change up my question, just to make sure he isn’t pulling that old trick where he just says the last choice presented.

“JJ, is Baby Zinger going to be a girl or a boy?”
“A ga-wol.”

“Jakey, is Baby Zinger going to be a boy or a girl?”
“A ga-wol.”
“A ga-wol?”
“No…a Ga-wol.”
“A Ga-wol?”
“No.  A ga-wol.”
“Ohhh, a girl?”
“Yeees, a ga-wol.”

This is my new favorite game.  We both find it hilarious.

Anyone who knows me can attest, I’m not very frou-frou.  I don’t like a lot of ornamentation and feel overly embellished if I were to wear, say, a necklace and dangly earrings.  I think it stems from a childhood of big hair.  (Note: I just searched the internet to make sure dangly is a word… turns out it isn’t.  Am I the only one who’s been saying dangly?)  Even when I was just a lass with little girlie-girl inclinations, I still eschewed characters on my clothes.  Sweatshirts with teddy bears?  Not this second grader.

And before I had kids, I’m pretty sure I thought to myself, “Hmmm.  When I have kids, I don’t think I’ll dress them up in little outfits with ducks and sheep.  What is this enduring baby barnyard fashion trend?  No, definitely not.”

I’ve totally changed my mind.

When it comes to picking out clothes for Jake and Nake, I encourage, I endorse, I depend upon apparel adornment.  I never knew I would be reduced to selling the virtues of donning duds based on product features such as:
“Do you want to wear your doggie shirt or your dinosaur shirt?”
“Come here and put these monkey socks on!”
(sing song voice) “Look, Haaaandy Maaaaanny pj’s…”

It’s pretty shocking how effective animals and race cars can be at getting clothes onto resistant, wriggly little bodies.  I still shy away from cartoon characters as they seem to promote unwanted whining and begging in public places.  But, sweatshirts with teddy bears?  Now I know why that’s all Gap Kids sells.

The last two weekends in a row I’ve been talked into visiting Whole Paycheck with one of the munchkins.  Talked into or perhaps, voluntold.  A new corporate-ism I’ve just added to my vocabulary… apparently it’s been in use for quite some time.

So, two weeks ago I took Nate and we were having a great time.  Then the stuff in the cart began to build-up until Nathaniel was able to lean back and reach it.  Every time I turned around, Nakezilla was tossing produce and baby food and other organic delicacies out of the cart.  In one aisle he got too close to a box of Lara bars and started conducting gravity experiments.  As I was quickly picking them up before someone noticed we were trashing the snack aisle, an entirely new box came crashing down on my head.  Nate’s arms are deceptively long.  He actually has eight of them.  Call the National Enquirer.

So last week I said, Oh no no no, Natesy has to stay at home.  I’ll take Jake.  We ended up with a seedless watermelon.  A bag of potato chips.  A cupcake.  I kid you not, I calculated the delta and Jacob adds a $30 premium to one’s epicurean invoice.  With Jakey as my shopping partner, things were flying off the shelves into our cart.  The exact opposite of his little brother.

Either way, tons of money flew out of my wallet.

Natesy’s a mess.  He’s got scratches on both cheeks, one across his eyelid and a new one on his forehead.  There’s a bruise under his chin and his first black eye is finally fading.  Looks like he’s missing quite a few teeth.

I just spent the last thirty minutes intercepting Bruiser as he breaks every rule in the book:

No banging the decoy remote control against the plateglass window!  Smiles and laughs right in my face.

Stop standing up on the torchiere floor lamp and dancing!  Smiles, laughs and beelines straight back to the lamp three times until I build an ottoman barricade.

No touching electrical outlet covers!  Grins and laughs in my face, again.

I thought he was bruised and battered from his resistance to man-manis and his current affection for  crawling straight into the jaws of danger.  Now I’m wondering if he’s sneaking out late at night for bar brawls and rumbles under the 280 overpass.  All these scuffles seem to simply be bolstering his confidence… I just gave him my most serious eye squint… again with the laughing in my face.  I think we’re in trouble.