Today, when discussing how both children desperately need hair cuts:
Rowan: I think Tate should get a buzz cut.
Tate: No, I think I should get a Woody cut. (Clearly he's Toy Story obsessed).
A few days ago, when Tate had finally fallen asleep for his nap:
Me: Rowan, make sure you're quiet while Tate is napping
Rowan: I'll be as quiet as an "h" in Spanish!
Rowan: Mommy, when I grow up and live in Florida, will you come live with me?
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Disney Princess Magic
Since the actual Disney trip won't be happening for at least another year (main criteria being that Tate no longer needs naps, children are slightly taller and can ride a few rides and, honestly, hopefully, children miraculosly develop a little patience), we opted for the next best thing--Disney Princesses on Ice. Clearly they loved it. It was actually really good. It helped that we were sitting on the floor and had only one row of people in front of us. Yes, Tate is waving a wand I bought him for the occasion, but if it makes it any better, his favorite part was Ursula's eels. Rowan's was, of course, Sleeping Beauty. It was kind of magical, seeing the looks on their faces, watching their excitement over the princesses. And Tinkerbell. And Mickey and Minnie and Goofy. Great family date night.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Things Fall Apart
It seems that every time Lance travels for work, something around here falls apart. I use the term loosely, I suppose, because things aren't that bad.
Initially it was a sick dog. Sebastian got sick once on Monday. He tends to get into all kinds of things so the whole act of getting sick isn't ever a huge surprise. But then he got sick twice on Tuesday--on the carpet, no less. Then in his bed on Tuesday night, once again yesterday and twice today. One dog bed in the garbage, lots of cleaner on the carpet. Yuck.
Also on Tuesday I noticed a rash on Tate's stomach. Then a few bumps on his legs, then his arms. Since I've essentially been a modern day leper since November, I might have freaked out just a touch. It ended up being nothing.
Then today I had just picked up Tate to head down the stairs (he loves to be held--especially down the stairs) and I slipped. I couldn't stop myself since I was holding Tate so I fell hard right on my tailbone. It may be broken. It may just be badly bruised. My arm has scrapes and buises, my back hurts and I have a headache. I feel I may be 80. Worse than that was that Tate hit his head right on the sharp edge of onr of our spindles. He was crying. My eyes teared up. Rowan said "Mommy! You never cry. Be brave! Be brave!" I told her that Tate and I were both hurt. She brought a sticker for us.
The week wasn't a complete loss, though. I got to volunteer at Rowan's field trip. She's still at an age (and hopefully will be for quite a bit longer) when it's totally cool when your mom is the one helping. She was so excited about it. Tate has been back to his normal self--happy, sweet as could be, generous and pretty darn adorable.
Today Tate was wearing a new Spiderman shirt from Grandma Jackie. He was so excited about it. The first thing he did when Rowan woke up was show her his shirt. "Mom! Look at Tate's shirt," she said, "Spiderman is saying 'I love you' with his hand!" And, sure enough, he is! That made my day. Then, in the car, Rowan requested that I play #13 on the CD. I said "What's #13?" She said "Mo-om, it's the number after 12!"
Initially it was a sick dog. Sebastian got sick once on Monday. He tends to get into all kinds of things so the whole act of getting sick isn't ever a huge surprise. But then he got sick twice on Tuesday--on the carpet, no less. Then in his bed on Tuesday night, once again yesterday and twice today. One dog bed in the garbage, lots of cleaner on the carpet. Yuck.
Also on Tuesday I noticed a rash on Tate's stomach. Then a few bumps on his legs, then his arms. Since I've essentially been a modern day leper since November, I might have freaked out just a touch. It ended up being nothing.
Then today I had just picked up Tate to head down the stairs (he loves to be held--especially down the stairs) and I slipped. I couldn't stop myself since I was holding Tate so I fell hard right on my tailbone. It may be broken. It may just be badly bruised. My arm has scrapes and buises, my back hurts and I have a headache. I feel I may be 80. Worse than that was that Tate hit his head right on the sharp edge of onr of our spindles. He was crying. My eyes teared up. Rowan said "Mommy! You never cry. Be brave! Be brave!" I told her that Tate and I were both hurt. She brought a sticker for us.
The week wasn't a complete loss, though. I got to volunteer at Rowan's field trip. She's still at an age (and hopefully will be for quite a bit longer) when it's totally cool when your mom is the one helping. She was so excited about it. Tate has been back to his normal self--happy, sweet as could be, generous and pretty darn adorable.
Today Tate was wearing a new Spiderman shirt from Grandma Jackie. He was so excited about it. The first thing he did when Rowan woke up was show her his shirt. "Mom! Look at Tate's shirt," she said, "Spiderman is saying 'I love you' with his hand!" And, sure enough, he is! That made my day. Then, in the car, Rowan requested that I play #13 on the CD. I said "What's #13?" She said "Mo-om, it's the number after 12!"
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