We all know this blog isn’t about me. It’s about the kids. So I’d better give them some coverage before my sister throws a fit.
The kids will turn three in a couple of weeks. They’re pretty psyched up for that, since just a couple of weeks ago was Christmas, and that was the first time they came to understand what PRESENTS were. Reece has loved Thomas the Train ever since the first time daddy turned it on so he could get five minutes of piece and quiet. Now, Reece will flip through the little catalogs of Thomas the Train gear that come with other Thomas stuff, ask us to read it to him, and say things like ‘I need that one.’ or ‘I don’t have Annie and Clarabelle, yet.’ We’ve gotten him quite a few of the little wooden trains, and for the most part, it’s been a good experience. He’s definitely improved his hand-eye coordination putting them together, though the first week or so I wanted to slash my own wrists with the stupid little bridge that fell apart every time he jostled it. We got the set for both of them, but Reece considers it his, and won’t usually let Lorelai play with it. She doesn’t usually mind, but that depends on the day, and whether or not she’s in a mood to torment him. The great thing is that there will be times he will disappear into the ‘playroom’ and be quite content laying on the floor, running the trains around ‘The Island of Sodor’.
Lorelai, on the other hand, is a social child. And one who wants to be around adults. Kids aren’t that fascinating to her, but if there is an adult conversation going on, she has to be there, and be part of it. She usually just sits there, and has this giant smile on her face, but if there is a conversation going on, and she can’t be part of it, there will be trouble. At Christmas, we were in Ephrata at my in-laws house, and Lorelai’s favorite time was sitting at the kitchen table with Aunt Lori, Grandma and Mommy and having a girls talk.
Other than trains, Reece’s favorite thing is fire engines. He knows what trucks are pumpers, and what are ladder trucks. If a TV show has a fire truck in it, it’s his kind of show. Fireman Sam is a really annoying computer generated carton from the UK that Reece just can’t get enough of. Did I mention it’s really annoying? We changed our TV setup around a week ago, and lost the channel that fills Reece’s Fireman Sam fix. He didn’t take that too well. There was screaming and crying and tantrums involved.
The big accomplishment lately has been Lorelai’s potty training. I hate to jinx it, but she’s pretty much done. I don’t think she’s had an accident in a month or so, and most nights her diaper is dry too. We’re not quite sure when to stop putting a diaper on her at night. She doesn’t quite go at night completely on her own, and we’re reluctant to go back to five wakeups a night. But it sure is nice to be down to fewer bags of dirty diapers every week.
Reece isn’t doing as well in the potty training area. You kind of reach that point where you start to wonder if he’ll ever get it, and worry you’ll be changing his diapers when he’s fifteen. At this point, he eats exactly what we eat, and sometimes just as much, so you can imagine what the poops are like. He knows he’s going. He knows he supposed to go on the potty. He just hasn’t connected the two yet. I’m telling ya, sometimes the amount of crap in his diaper is just wrong.
Bedtime is an adventure now as well. We tuck them in around 7:15-7:30. Then they run around for half an hour, and we tuck them in again, usually after a potty break. Then ten minutes later, we find them on the landing between the first and second floor, where they can see what’s on the TV. Sometimes it’s a TV show. Sometimes it’s a video game Daddy would rather not have them see. Tuck them in again. Twenty minutes later, they’re still singing. Lorelai is the instigator here. She is a night owl. On his own, Reece would be asleep by 7:45 every night. Lorelai keeps him up. But Reece loves to fake sleep. Where ever he gets caught out of bed, he just closes his eyes, and pretends to be asleep. Doesn’t matter if he is standing or sitting, or laying upside down on a stair. He figures it’ll get him out of trouble. It usually does.
Winter in the Pacific Northwest is a balancing act between heavy rain, light rain, mist, and bitter cold. The kids don’t get to play outside a lot, and I think we all miss that. They get out to a lot of places with Courtney, our nanny, but on the weekends, we don’t do a lot of things. Hopefully we can figure out a way to fix that. For their birthday, we’re taking them to a fire station for a full tour. I think that’ll go over really well. The fire station may never be the same.
A few weeks ago, Reece went through a stage where he would say ‘I don’t like this house. I’m running away.’ Then we’d hear the front door open, and then close. 15 seconds later it would open back up.
“Reece, is it cold out there?”
He hasn’t done it as much the last week or two, but I warned the neighbors just in case.
Our weekly trips to Starbucks have evolved lately as well. Lorelai likes to order a Chonga Bagel with cream cheese. The baristas there think that is very sophisticated, but we know she orders it so she can lick the cream cheese off the plastic knife. That’s my girl.
Reece likes to have chocolate donuts, but we only do that when leaving him with someone else for the day. He reminds me of an outboard motor for a boat, with no boat, when he has that much sugar. Legs start to spin faster and faster, and next thing you know he’s running in crazy circles around you.
They both still love to read books, but had their nightly book reading privileges revoked when they turned 5 books into snow one night, like the people on Sesame Street did. Paper everywhere. Momma was not happy.
They got little medical kits and Reece got a fireman’s helmet for Christmas, and if you lay down on the floor for any length of time, they will try to ‘help’ you. Be forewarned: You need to protect all places they might think a thermometer should go.
I’m hoping to post some photos and video’s tonight I’m on the train now), so hopefully you won’t hang me for all these words. But this is what happens when a writer finishes a book. The fingers still need exercise.