Hiking in the Woods
J: This is bamboo. Did you know that a panda needs to eat 500 shoots of bamboo a day?
James: I did not know that.
J: That's a lot. Can you imagine having to eat 500 of anything?
Me: What about 500 pieces of candy?
Owen: MEEeee!!!!!!!!!!!
Things Currently on the Kitchen Table
Monopoly, Jr.
J's cell phone
My note book.
Two empty coffee cups
Three empty water glasses
Flowers
J's sunglasses
Four bobby pins
Pepper mill
Napkin holder
Dentist
As much as James as been struggling recently with getting into the rhythm of school, gymnastics, and piano lessons, he apparently has no fears about visiting the dentist. He could not have been more nonchalant yesterday about opening up his mouth for the hygienist and letting her poke around with the pick and mirrors. He requested a green toothpaste instead of a blue one with aristocratic manners at the end of the cleaning, and when the doctor expressed some concern about how his tongue was attached to the base of his mouth he repeated "Mississippi" back to her with an air of "of course I can say 'Mississippi,' do you think I'm Owen or something?" The hygienist said he was her best patient of the day, including the adults.
Cooking Success and Failure
We definitely like making bacon and leek pizza, which was invented a few weeks ago to use up some ingredients from a date night in. Olive oil crust, an acerbic sauce lots of front-stoop basil mixed with homemade ricotta, cheese, and then a big mess of bacon and carmelized leeks on top. That was a success. Not so much a success was the potato and celeriac cake which I tried to make yesterday. I think that if I tried again it would go better--knowing now how you assemble the whole thing I'd cut the vegetables into even squares from the top and then mandoline them even thinner than I did, and I think that would make for better layering. My cake ended up being a loose mess of buttery potatoes that weren't quite done baking. But I think I know the theory of it now.
Abraham Lincoln State Park
We took the boys exploring in Abraham Lincoln Park yesterday after a visit to the local apple orchard and explored the "other" side of Irondequoit Bay. Hiking with them is a trip. Owen doesn't walk the trails--he either runs them (or, for a few hilarious seconds before he wiped out and rolled down a descent, hops them like a kangaroo) or rides on a parent sucking his fingers and looking exhausted. James is in charge of navigation, of course, especially now that he has a rough understanding of trail markers. No scenic view of the bay is worth turning away from the red mark on the tree--no, Daddy, the red mark is THAT way. We have to follow the red mark.
Stories with Owen
Owen is getting old enough to sit through stories. Not just storybooks, but stories that we tell him. I loved it when James got to this size. Yesterday when James was at gymnastics I took him out to the backyard and we sat in the grass together. "Once upon a time there were two little boys. They decided they were going to go camp outside instead of sleeping in their beds, so they gathered up their sleeping bags--do you know what a sleeping bag is?--and they went out to the big back yard. Their Mommy asked them if they wanted to bring a tent, because they might get wet, but they boys said they didn't need one. Their Mommy asked them if they wanted to bring a tarp, because they might get wet, but the two little boys said they didn't need one. And so they boys brought their sleeping bags out, and they didn't even bring pillows, and they laid them out in the grass and looked up at the big sky. What do you think they saw in the big sky? They saw the stars twinkling, and the moon up in the sky? And yes, they saw airplanes. Probably some bats flying, too. And what do you think they heard? And owl, perhaps? Maybe, and certainly they heard frogs croaking in the pond? And so the boys fell asleep under the big sky in their sleeping bags laying out in the grass just like this. And what do you think happened? Well, it rained of course, and they got all wet and had to run back inside with damp sleeping bags. And do you know who the two little boys were? Why, it was Daddy and Uncle Oliver, and their Mommy was Nama!"
Owen likes stories about little boys who used to live at County House Road.
Fredonia
Today is the first real test of whether or not I'm going to go crazy trying to teach at Fredonia. I have BPO this morning until 12:30, then start Fredonia lessons at 1:30. I'll go straight until 7:30 there, and then have to get home before turning around for another morning of BPO on Thursday. We'll see. I have lots of podcasts loaded on my phone.
James Gymnastics Update
I've been touched by how many of you have asked about James and gymnastics and homeschooling. He continues to have ups and downs with all of it, but gymnastics have definitely turned into a high point in his week. He still does some goofy things there, like wandering off into the wrong class because he isn't paying attention, or just dancing on the mat instead of trying to turn a cartwheel, but that's much more in line with what the rest of the four year olds in his little class are doing, and he's DEFINITELY having a good time. Yesterday he got to swing from a trapeze into a pit full of foam pieces. He also apparently broke away from the class at one point and discovered a hole between two mats which he was in the middle of exploring when the coach grabbed him by one of his quickly disappearing legs and returned him to light of day. So, yes, he's having a good time recently.
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Friday, September 23, 2016
Quick Hitters
I. Christmas is Coming
Christmas really isn't coming anytime soon, but James certainly thinks it is. I think this seed was planted last Sunday when we are all down at Roland's birthday party and he saw the majority of his Smith relations in one spot. Ever since then he's been talking about Christmas. He drew a picture of a Christmas tree (with presents underneath) and put it up on his shelf. He cut up on a bunch of colored construction paper to make Christmas decorations for his room, and he's even gone down in the basement looking for stockings for George and Steven.
We tried to talk about this at dinner.
James: "Hey Mommy, is Christmas going to be soon?"
J: "Well, not too soon. It won't be for another three months."
James: "Just three more months until Christmas! I am SO ETSITED!!"
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
(Owen learned out to say "MEEeee!" as an abbreviation for "me," "me too," or "yes" and has been employing the expression enthusiastically.)
James: "We're going to get PRESENTS!"
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
R: "You know boys, there are lots of good holidays to look forward to before Christmas."
J: "That's right. First there's Owen's birthday."
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
J: "And then the next day is Halloween!"
James: "And we can go trick-or-treating on Halloween and get some good candy?:
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
R: "We can. Do you think we should go trick-or-treating at College Green like we did last year?"
James: "Yes, but we only go up to the houses with the lights on."
R: "...yes, that's what we told you ten months ago, right."
J: "And Grandma Joy's birthday is on Halloween, and then the day after Halloween is Uncle Dan's birthday. And then it's James' birthday--"
James: "And we should have my birthday at home. And Owen wants his birthday at home too."
Owen: "MEEeee!"
J: "And then it will be Thanksgiving, and then after that it will be Christmas. So there's a lot between now and Christmas to look forward too."
James: "My cars and I are SO ETSITED for Christmas."
J: "Do you remember what you dressed up as for Halloween last year?"
James: "Owen was a tiger, and I was a monkey."
Owen: "ROARRR!!!!"
R: "What do you think you boys would like to dress up as this year?"
James: "Owen should be a tiger, and I should be a monkey again."
Owen: "Yeah, ROARR!!!!"
J: "James, do you remember Halloween two years ago what happened? Do you remember who came home to live with us on Halloween that year?"
Owen: "MEEEEEEEeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
II. Homeschool
Well, so far the homeschooling experiment has gone...kind of differently than expected. On the positive side, James is doing better in gymnastics and has kept up with the pace we planned for his workbooks.
But it hasn't been particularly easy. For one thing, he's chosen the past couple of weeks to indulge in some really bizzare antics. He started trying to sleep in a crack between his bed and the wall at night, and then under the bed at night, and he keeps on moving all of his favorite stuff under the bed and disappearing there during the day. At night we have to push his bed all the way up against the wall and then check to make sure that he doesn't crawl under there in the middle of the night. He's decorated the underside of the bed with stickers and retreats there whenever necessary.
Needless to say, he hasn't been sleeping great. He looks tired all day and has been unusually cranky.
When he works on school stuff he gives off a distinct vibe of "I couldn't care less about this" and "I'm just going to do the bare minimum to get back to whatever it is I want to do." And it would be one thing if he wanted to rush through school so he could go outside or go play with his toys, but apparently he doesn't have time for tracking the letter M because he needs to go lie in the dark under his bed?
To be perfectly frank, the boy is a mystery to me right now. He's going to do school whether he likes it or not, of course, and he's going to sleep on his bed like a civilized human. I get the sense that something is going wrong for him, and I can't put my finger on it.
III. Owe blog to J
This blog is brought to you as an apology to J. In pouring her a cup of coffee this morning I perhaps accurately but apparently unwelcomely told her she needed to drink it, comparing her struggles to clean a dirty sippy cup to "Betty White in that Snickers commercial."
Christmas really isn't coming anytime soon, but James certainly thinks it is. I think this seed was planted last Sunday when we are all down at Roland's birthday party and he saw the majority of his Smith relations in one spot. Ever since then he's been talking about Christmas. He drew a picture of a Christmas tree (with presents underneath) and put it up on his shelf. He cut up on a bunch of colored construction paper to make Christmas decorations for his room, and he's even gone down in the basement looking for stockings for George and Steven.
We tried to talk about this at dinner.
James: "Hey Mommy, is Christmas going to be soon?"
J: "Well, not too soon. It won't be for another three months."
James: "Just three more months until Christmas! I am SO ETSITED!!"
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
(Owen learned out to say "MEEeee!" as an abbreviation for "me," "me too," or "yes" and has been employing the expression enthusiastically.)
James: "We're going to get PRESENTS!"
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
R: "You know boys, there are lots of good holidays to look forward to before Christmas."
J: "That's right. First there's Owen's birthday."
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
J: "And then the next day is Halloween!"
James: "And we can go trick-or-treating on Halloween and get some good candy?:
Owen: "MEEeee!!!"
R: "We can. Do you think we should go trick-or-treating at College Green like we did last year?"
James: "Yes, but we only go up to the houses with the lights on."
R: "...yes, that's what we told you ten months ago, right."
J: "And Grandma Joy's birthday is on Halloween, and then the day after Halloween is Uncle Dan's birthday. And then it's James' birthday--"
James: "And we should have my birthday at home. And Owen wants his birthday at home too."
Owen: "MEEeee!"
J: "And then it will be Thanksgiving, and then after that it will be Christmas. So there's a lot between now and Christmas to look forward too."
James: "My cars and I are SO ETSITED for Christmas."
J: "Do you remember what you dressed up as for Halloween last year?"
James: "Owen was a tiger, and I was a monkey."
Owen: "ROARRR!!!!"
R: "What do you think you boys would like to dress up as this year?"
James: "Owen should be a tiger, and I should be a monkey again."
Owen: "Yeah, ROARR!!!!"
J: "James, do you remember Halloween two years ago what happened? Do you remember who came home to live with us on Halloween that year?"
Owen: "MEEEEEEEeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
II. Homeschool
Well, so far the homeschooling experiment has gone...kind of differently than expected. On the positive side, James is doing better in gymnastics and has kept up with the pace we planned for his workbooks.
But it hasn't been particularly easy. For one thing, he's chosen the past couple of weeks to indulge in some really bizzare antics. He started trying to sleep in a crack between his bed and the wall at night, and then under the bed at night, and he keeps on moving all of his favorite stuff under the bed and disappearing there during the day. At night we have to push his bed all the way up against the wall and then check to make sure that he doesn't crawl under there in the middle of the night. He's decorated the underside of the bed with stickers and retreats there whenever necessary.
Needless to say, he hasn't been sleeping great. He looks tired all day and has been unusually cranky.
When he works on school stuff he gives off a distinct vibe of "I couldn't care less about this" and "I'm just going to do the bare minimum to get back to whatever it is I want to do." And it would be one thing if he wanted to rush through school so he could go outside or go play with his toys, but apparently he doesn't have time for tracking the letter M because he needs to go lie in the dark under his bed?
To be perfectly frank, the boy is a mystery to me right now. He's going to do school whether he likes it or not, of course, and he's going to sleep on his bed like a civilized human. I get the sense that something is going wrong for him, and I can't put my finger on it.
III. Owe blog to J
This blog is brought to you as an apology to J. In pouring her a cup of coffee this morning I perhaps accurately but apparently unwelcomely told her she needed to drink it, comparing her struggles to clean a dirty sippy cup to "Betty White in that Snickers commercial."
Friday, September 16, 2016
Quick Hitters
I. Garbage Trucks
Every remotely interesting outside noise is now a garbage truck to Owen. Like most little boys he is fascinated by weekly arrival of the big garbage trucks (one for recycling at around 8:30, one for the waste about two hours later) and runs to the window to watch in reverent awe. Lucky for him, most of our street uses a different company that collects on Mondays, so he can see the neighbor's garbage truck go as well. ("That isn't our garbage truck," James comments "our garbage truck is BLUE.") I sort of wish that the interest in garbage trucks was the reason that Owen so routinely throws inappropriate objects (stuffed animals, books, sheet music, unopened mail) into the kitchen trash can, but I suspect these two phenomena are unrelated. He just likes to throw away inappropriate objects.
But anyway, all of the neighborhood school buses are now garbage trucks.
<Noise outside>
"OH! Gah-bage twuck!"
"Owen, I think that's just a school bus."
"NOo! Gah-bage twuck!"
"Well, why don't you go to the window and check?"
<pat-pat-pat>
"Gah-bage twuck?"
Even when he discovers that the noise WAS in fact a school bus (we live across the street from an elementary school, you know, so of course it's usually a school bus) he pops right up at the next big vehicle noise with an exclamation of:
"OH! Gah-bage twuck!"
II. Gymnastics
J and I were recently talking about how James (who, it turns out, reads pretty well) may not like the idea of us writing about in him in our blogs. But we need to remember his first day of home school.
He did great with the actual school part. He worked on worksheets, made messy letter A's, and thoroughly enjoyed his new pencils and crayons. But he was nervous about gymnastics.
"I won't do the high parts. Alexa will do the high parts."
(We signed him up to do a class with Alexa, who'd been taking for over a year.)
It went poorly from the beginning. For one thing, Alexa was almost immediately pulled off the floor because of some error in her registration. And then James, who had made a genuine effort to follow along with all the warm-up stretches and exercises despite his nerves, got completely lost in the first five minutes of calisthenics.
I figured that in a 4-5 year old class they would spend some time explaining each element that they were doing for the benefit of those kids (like James) who had never heard of a "straddle" or a "crab walk."
That wasn't how it worked. Most of the class had apparently been enrolled before, and the handful of newcomers apparently didn't mind wandering about through their classmates or taking their mistakes casually. James, however, was breaking down into tears. Each time the coach (who never even introduced himself to the kids) shouted another instruction about "jump and tuck" the tears welled up a little bigger in his eyes, and he looked around the gym, trying to find us. (Owen was trying as hard as possible to break free from J and make his way out onto the various apparata, so she was restraining him.)
James stopped trying to follow the class and covered his eyes, sobbing. One of the adults tried to help him and then motioned me onto the floor. I walked out to meet him.
"I want to go home."
"You're doing fine. Keep on trying, do what the coach tells you to do and if you can't do it the first time, that's alright. Just give it a try."
"Will you stay with me?"
I told him I couldn't, but I ended up tagging behind his group for the rest of his hour. He had finally regained control of his tears when the group started to move to other spots in the gym. The next forty minutes were a painful exercise in reminding us of how little James has done in the way of walking-in-straight-lines, listening to non-parent adults giving instructions, or imitating other kids his age. He floundered badly. He cried often. He went out onto the trampoline when he wasn't supposed to and was scolded, and then was too teary and embarrassed to go out when it was his turn. He walked through areas he wasn't supposed to when he followed the line, and when he found something he enjoyed doing a little bit he became so engrossed in it that he didn't hear the coach telling him to stop or to stay in one place.
Owen was babbling as we walked out to the car, but the rest of us were silent.
I helped him into his carseat and looked at him.
"That was awful." He whispered and hung his head.
We had a talk that night. He insisted that he didn't want to go back. We talked about how to listen to the coaches, how to watch the other kids, how to practice some of the new things he had learned, and about being brave and trying something you weren't good at.
The next day J was reading books to Owen in the library when she heard some thumping in the living room. She looked up. Through the legs of the dining room table she saw James standing by the couch, practicing straddle jumps on his own.
I think it's great that he's smart and well-spoken and reading, but I don't think I've ever been more proud of him than when I heard he went and practiced those straddle jumps by himself.
Last Tuesday I took him back to the gym, and he didn't say much on the way there. J stayed behind with Owen, trying to minimize any distraction from her being there. He was nervous as they started the warm-up. They went right into some new skills, and I could see the tears welling up, but he kept it together. Once that was over and the line was forming to move to the other side of the gym he came running over and asked me: "Are you going to go come with me?"
"Try it on your own. I'll be watching here if you need me, but start on your own."
He wasn't great. He still doesn't walk in line particularly well, and he gets nervous around the tall male coach in particular. But he did much better. And when the class let out he came flying into the shoe area and gave me a silent, squeezing hug and actually let me pick him up and hold him.
He knew he'd done good work.
Every remotely interesting outside noise is now a garbage truck to Owen. Like most little boys he is fascinated by weekly arrival of the big garbage trucks (one for recycling at around 8:30, one for the waste about two hours later) and runs to the window to watch in reverent awe. Lucky for him, most of our street uses a different company that collects on Mondays, so he can see the neighbor's garbage truck go as well. ("That isn't our garbage truck," James comments "our garbage truck is BLUE.") I sort of wish that the interest in garbage trucks was the reason that Owen so routinely throws inappropriate objects (stuffed animals, books, sheet music, unopened mail) into the kitchen trash can, but I suspect these two phenomena are unrelated. He just likes to throw away inappropriate objects.
But anyway, all of the neighborhood school buses are now garbage trucks.
<Noise outside>
"OH! Gah-bage twuck!"
"Owen, I think that's just a school bus."
"NOo! Gah-bage twuck!"
"Well, why don't you go to the window and check?"
<pat-pat-pat>
"Gah-bage twuck?"
Even when he discovers that the noise WAS in fact a school bus (we live across the street from an elementary school, you know, so of course it's usually a school bus) he pops right up at the next big vehicle noise with an exclamation of:
"OH! Gah-bage twuck!"
II. Gymnastics
J and I were recently talking about how James (who, it turns out, reads pretty well) may not like the idea of us writing about in him in our blogs. But we need to remember his first day of home school.
He did great with the actual school part. He worked on worksheets, made messy letter A's, and thoroughly enjoyed his new pencils and crayons. But he was nervous about gymnastics.
"I won't do the high parts. Alexa will do the high parts."
(We signed him up to do a class with Alexa, who'd been taking for over a year.)
It went poorly from the beginning. For one thing, Alexa was almost immediately pulled off the floor because of some error in her registration. And then James, who had made a genuine effort to follow along with all the warm-up stretches and exercises despite his nerves, got completely lost in the first five minutes of calisthenics.
I figured that in a 4-5 year old class they would spend some time explaining each element that they were doing for the benefit of those kids (like James) who had never heard of a "straddle" or a "crab walk."
That wasn't how it worked. Most of the class had apparently been enrolled before, and the handful of newcomers apparently didn't mind wandering about through their classmates or taking their mistakes casually. James, however, was breaking down into tears. Each time the coach (who never even introduced himself to the kids) shouted another instruction about "jump and tuck" the tears welled up a little bigger in his eyes, and he looked around the gym, trying to find us. (Owen was trying as hard as possible to break free from J and make his way out onto the various apparata, so she was restraining him.)
James stopped trying to follow the class and covered his eyes, sobbing. One of the adults tried to help him and then motioned me onto the floor. I walked out to meet him.
"I want to go home."
"You're doing fine. Keep on trying, do what the coach tells you to do and if you can't do it the first time, that's alright. Just give it a try."
"Will you stay with me?"
I told him I couldn't, but I ended up tagging behind his group for the rest of his hour. He had finally regained control of his tears when the group started to move to other spots in the gym. The next forty minutes were a painful exercise in reminding us of how little James has done in the way of walking-in-straight-lines, listening to non-parent adults giving instructions, or imitating other kids his age. He floundered badly. He cried often. He went out onto the trampoline when he wasn't supposed to and was scolded, and then was too teary and embarrassed to go out when it was his turn. He walked through areas he wasn't supposed to when he followed the line, and when he found something he enjoyed doing a little bit he became so engrossed in it that he didn't hear the coach telling him to stop or to stay in one place.
Owen was babbling as we walked out to the car, but the rest of us were silent.
I helped him into his carseat and looked at him.
"That was awful." He whispered and hung his head.
We had a talk that night. He insisted that he didn't want to go back. We talked about how to listen to the coaches, how to watch the other kids, how to practice some of the new things he had learned, and about being brave and trying something you weren't good at.
The next day J was reading books to Owen in the library when she heard some thumping in the living room. She looked up. Through the legs of the dining room table she saw James standing by the couch, practicing straddle jumps on his own.
I think it's great that he's smart and well-spoken and reading, but I don't think I've ever been more proud of him than when I heard he went and practiced those straddle jumps by himself.
Last Tuesday I took him back to the gym, and he didn't say much on the way there. J stayed behind with Owen, trying to minimize any distraction from her being there. He was nervous as they started the warm-up. They went right into some new skills, and I could see the tears welling up, but he kept it together. Once that was over and the line was forming to move to the other side of the gym he came running over and asked me: "Are you going to go come with me?"
"Try it on your own. I'll be watching here if you need me, but start on your own."
He wasn't great. He still doesn't walk in line particularly well, and he gets nervous around the tall male coach in particular. But he did much better. And when the class let out he came flying into the shoe area and gave me a silent, squeezing hug and actually let me pick him up and hold him.
He knew he'd done good work.
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Friday, August 26, 2016
Things the Boys Did Today
My hands smell like poop. I just changed another one of Owen's awful diapers, and as I type on this keyboard with poopy-smelling fingers I am thinking that if I don't write down what the boys did over the course of today some evolutionary pro-reproduction amnesiac instinct will kick in and cause me to forget it.
The big project for today was to finger-paint canvasses like we did last year. James offered a candid assessment of their work from last year:
"Owen's picture looks awful. Mine is pretty good, but his picture isn't very good at all. This year he should try to make his better."
Don't tell him, but I prefer Owen's work to James' for both years.
So we went to Hobby-Lobby. Taking the kids anywhere is a challenge, because Owen ALWAYS takes off his shoes. J put his shoes on while we gathered keys and wallets and made ready to leave, and he took them off as soon as he was unsupervised. Then he took them off again while we were driving in the car. Then he took them off again when we were pushing him around in the cart, and he attempted to throw them away in the store.
We went over to Kohl's (with James pointedly insisting that I was taking the wrong way home after having asked repeatedly for the previous half-hour whether or not we were going home yet) so that we could pick up some sunglasses for J. (Yes, that does obliquely tie in to the epic beach-sunglasses saga, but it would take too long to explain.)
Owen didn't take off his shoes in Kohl's, but he did run away and hide in the bedding department. And then when James chased him and blew up our "parenting-via-authoritative-verbal-commands" he ran away even further and bumped into old ladies. I caught him and picked him up, and he started trying to bite me.
I hate the biting thing. He does it on purpose, and he knows he's going to get in trouble for it. I think he legitimately believes he's a tiger.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TxKeYPxf-c
And just like a tiger, he bites, roars, and scratches. He ended up in hot water less than ten minutes after we got home for successfully biting James. (Although, to be fair, James' art criticism was sort of asking for it.) He also got in a nasty swipe at J in Kohl's, where they did not have any sunglasses.
The painting when okay. They had us exhausted by nap, and when J took them over to the playground so that I could practice for an hour Owen found a pile of dog poop and picked up a handful of it, then ran away and eventually threw it away when she tried to chase him down.
Before dinner he was walking around the kitchen taking mouthfuls of milk from his sippy cup and then spitting them out out into little puddles on the kitchen floor.
At dinner he didn't eat anything and kept on putting his grubby feet up on the table.
Then he threw his food and his silverware and (very nearly) his plate on the floor when I made him stop.
And then he pounded on the walls of his timeout corner and pooped his pants.
So that's why my hands smell like poop, (I think everyone's hands smell like poop at this point) and why I'm writing a blog. He isn't currently bothering anybody, but he is climbing up to all the highest points of the furniture he can reach and then jumping off.
The big project for today was to finger-paint canvasses like we did last year. James offered a candid assessment of their work from last year:
"Owen's picture looks awful. Mine is pretty good, but his picture isn't very good at all. This year he should try to make his better."
Don't tell him, but I prefer Owen's work to James' for both years.
So we went to Hobby-Lobby. Taking the kids anywhere is a challenge, because Owen ALWAYS takes off his shoes. J put his shoes on while we gathered keys and wallets and made ready to leave, and he took them off as soon as he was unsupervised. Then he took them off again while we were driving in the car. Then he took them off again when we were pushing him around in the cart, and he attempted to throw them away in the store.
We went over to Kohl's (with James pointedly insisting that I was taking the wrong way home after having asked repeatedly for the previous half-hour whether or not we were going home yet) so that we could pick up some sunglasses for J. (Yes, that does obliquely tie in to the epic beach-sunglasses saga, but it would take too long to explain.)
Owen didn't take off his shoes in Kohl's, but he did run away and hide in the bedding department. And then when James chased him and blew up our "parenting-via-authoritative-verbal-commands" he ran away even further and bumped into old ladies. I caught him and picked him up, and he started trying to bite me.
I hate the biting thing. He does it on purpose, and he knows he's going to get in trouble for it. I think he legitimately believes he's a tiger.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0TxKeYPxf-c
And just like a tiger, he bites, roars, and scratches. He ended up in hot water less than ten minutes after we got home for successfully biting James. (Although, to be fair, James' art criticism was sort of asking for it.) He also got in a nasty swipe at J in Kohl's, where they did not have any sunglasses.
The painting when okay. They had us exhausted by nap, and when J took them over to the playground so that I could practice for an hour Owen found a pile of dog poop and picked up a handful of it, then ran away and eventually threw it away when she tried to chase him down.
Before dinner he was walking around the kitchen taking mouthfuls of milk from his sippy cup and then spitting them out out into little puddles on the kitchen floor.
At dinner he didn't eat anything and kept on putting his grubby feet up on the table.
Then he threw his food and his silverware and (very nearly) his plate on the floor when I made him stop.
And then he pounded on the walls of his timeout corner and pooped his pants.
So that's why my hands smell like poop, (I think everyone's hands smell like poop at this point) and why I'm writing a blog. He isn't currently bothering anybody, but he is climbing up to all the highest points of the furniture he can reach and then jumping off.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
With Owen
Since Owen is up before 7 AM this morning he is sitting on my lap and helping me to write this blog. So I'll ask him some questions.
R: Owen, why is the eraser on another one of my mechanical pencils missing?
O: <Holds his Curious George and looks bleary-eyed.>
R: Mommy tells me that all afternoon yesterday James was hiding under my desk and you were standing on my desk chair going through things you aren't supposed to, like old coffee mugs, paperwork, and Daddy-books.
O: No!
R: What are we going to do today?
O: <points at my books>
R: Are you going to go see baby Olivia?
O: <points at desk light>
R: <turns off desk light>
O: Dah-duh.
R: How did you sleep?
O: <ignores me, tries to touch laptop screen repeatedly>
R: Should we get James up soon?
O: No, dah-duh!
R: This isn't a particularly memorable conversation.
O: Dah-zhun! Noo!
R: Owen, why is the eraser on another one of my mechanical pencils missing?
O: <Holds his Curious George and looks bleary-eyed.>
R: Mommy tells me that all afternoon yesterday James was hiding under my desk and you were standing on my desk chair going through things you aren't supposed to, like old coffee mugs, paperwork, and Daddy-books.
O: No!
R: What are we going to do today?
O: <points at my books>
R: Are you going to go see baby Olivia?
O: <points at desk light>
R: <turns off desk light>
O: Dah-duh.
R: How did you sleep?
O: <ignores me, tries to touch laptop screen repeatedly>
R: Should we get James up soon?
O: No, dah-duh!
R: This isn't a particularly memorable conversation.
O: Dah-zhun! Noo!
Sunday, August 21, 2016
2016 Buffalo Bills Season Predictions
Having had a lovely time yesterday at the Bills game with Pax, Lux, Melissa, and our friend David, it is time for my yearly Buffalo Bills season prediction blog. The misery is never quite the same twice.
QBs-Tyrod Taylor, bless his heart, will be best quarterback we've seen since Drew Bledsoe...while he's healthy. In the 8-9 games he actually plays he will make thrilling runs, throw well-touched long balls, and generally do lots of winning. Unfortunately, that leaves us with a bunch of games in which EJ Manuel is going to be in charge of the fourth quarter. I think this will be EJ's best year yet. That still won't be very good, though, and he isn't going to be retained at the end of the season. His stats will look okay and he'll have played enough decent football to get a contract somewhere else, but we'll all remember him in terms of "if only he hadn't taken all those sacks at the end of the Jets game..."
RBs-LeSean McCoy will also struggle to stay healthy, but I think this is his smartest year of running in Buffalo. He will follow blocks and choose correct lanes, and he has at least another year of 4.5 yards per carry in him in a Greg Roman system. Either Jonathan Williams or Gilislee will get publicly berated by the coach for fumbles. Karlos Williams will get picked up by the Pats and then cut a few weeks later for oversleeping.
WRs-Sammy Watkins' legacy of the 2016 season is going to be making some pivotal catch/no-catch that ends up being called "the Sammy Watkins play." Whenever it's shown on TV people will talk about what a talent he is, "despite playing in Buffalo." Whoever plays WR3 probably won't make the team the year after. Sammy will have way better numbers when Tyrod is in than when EJ is playing, and the yardage totals will be as follows--1) Sammy, 2) Clay 3) McCoy 4) Woods, although Woods might be the second most important member of the receiving corps because of his blocking.
OL-Cordy Glenn will again be quietly dominant. Rex will trade away a draft pick at some point in the season to acquire a former Jet who isn't very good. People will start to talk about the end of Eric Wood's career. John Miller will take a big step forward, and the OL will probably be the best part of the offense. (Especially when Tyrod's in.)
DL-The defense will briefly be better without Dareus than with him, whenever he comes back, and conditioning issues will probably mean that he spends some time on the injury report also. Somebody like Douzable will probably be the name you hear most often for the first couple weeks, and Jerry Hughes will have 9 sacks, leading the team.
LB-Possibly a hot mess outside of Preston Brown, who I really like. Look for guys named Lorenzo Alexander and Randell Johnson to be in trouble attempting to cover Rob Gronkowski, even if Brady is out.
DB-Stephon Gilmore will have more interceptions but fewer shut-out games. Darby will sophomore slump, but Robey-Coleman will have a great year. Look for Corey Graham to be particularly awesome. Lots of up and down with this group--either a complete shutdown of the opposing offense or getting torched for 300.
Special Teams-Carpenter will miss at least three extra points, but have a much better year with field goals. Schmidt will punt a lot.
Coaches-Around election season Rex will say something about Trump that grabs national headlines.
General Outlook: 8-8, 3rd in AFC East to a tie-break with NYJ. The drought continues.
QBs-Tyrod Taylor, bless his heart, will be best quarterback we've seen since Drew Bledsoe...while he's healthy. In the 8-9 games he actually plays he will make thrilling runs, throw well-touched long balls, and generally do lots of winning. Unfortunately, that leaves us with a bunch of games in which EJ Manuel is going to be in charge of the fourth quarter. I think this will be EJ's best year yet. That still won't be very good, though, and he isn't going to be retained at the end of the season. His stats will look okay and he'll have played enough decent football to get a contract somewhere else, but we'll all remember him in terms of "if only he hadn't taken all those sacks at the end of the Jets game..."
RBs-LeSean McCoy will also struggle to stay healthy, but I think this is his smartest year of running in Buffalo. He will follow blocks and choose correct lanes, and he has at least another year of 4.5 yards per carry in him in a Greg Roman system. Either Jonathan Williams or Gilislee will get publicly berated by the coach for fumbles. Karlos Williams will get picked up by the Pats and then cut a few weeks later for oversleeping.
WRs-Sammy Watkins' legacy of the 2016 season is going to be making some pivotal catch/no-catch that ends up being called "the Sammy Watkins play." Whenever it's shown on TV people will talk about what a talent he is, "despite playing in Buffalo." Whoever plays WR3 probably won't make the team the year after. Sammy will have way better numbers when Tyrod is in than when EJ is playing, and the yardage totals will be as follows--1) Sammy, 2) Clay 3) McCoy 4) Woods, although Woods might be the second most important member of the receiving corps because of his blocking.
OL-Cordy Glenn will again be quietly dominant. Rex will trade away a draft pick at some point in the season to acquire a former Jet who isn't very good. People will start to talk about the end of Eric Wood's career. John Miller will take a big step forward, and the OL will probably be the best part of the offense. (Especially when Tyrod's in.)
DL-The defense will briefly be better without Dareus than with him, whenever he comes back, and conditioning issues will probably mean that he spends some time on the injury report also. Somebody like Douzable will probably be the name you hear most often for the first couple weeks, and Jerry Hughes will have 9 sacks, leading the team.
LB-Possibly a hot mess outside of Preston Brown, who I really like. Look for guys named Lorenzo Alexander and Randell Johnson to be in trouble attempting to cover Rob Gronkowski, even if Brady is out.
DB-Stephon Gilmore will have more interceptions but fewer shut-out games. Darby will sophomore slump, but Robey-Coleman will have a great year. Look for Corey Graham to be particularly awesome. Lots of up and down with this group--either a complete shutdown of the opposing offense or getting torched for 300.
Special Teams-Carpenter will miss at least three extra points, but have a much better year with field goals. Schmidt will punt a lot.
Coaches-Around election season Rex will say something about Trump that grabs national headlines.
General Outlook: 8-8, 3rd in AFC East to a tie-break with NYJ. The drought continues.
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