Zoo trip!

Seeing as how we live in an area where the winters get pretty cold and miserable, and because the boys are old enough to really enjoy things, we decided we need to purchase a membership somewhere where we'll be able to go and have some fun throughout the winter.

First up is the Minnesota Zoo. There are nice long trails outside that are open all winter, but there are also several indoor buildings. I think the winter time favorite will be the Tropics Trail which is warm and humid which will be the perfect antidote to Minnesota's cold, dry winters.

This weekend was absolutely gorgeous. Even though it was nearly October, the weather was in the 80's, low humidity, and sunny. Add that in to the leaves starting to change color, and it was a great weekend to be out and enjoying time with the family.

Bee is still talking about the big snake we saw. It really was big...it must have been 10 inches in diameter. He's also still talking about the gorillas he saw. Except, this zoo doesn't have gorillas at all!

Moose is an odd duck. There's really cool, live animals right in front of him, but what is he enthralled by? The railings, the rock structures, the informational signs. So yeah, pretty much anything but the animals. He did touch a snake (NOT the really big one!) and he thought that was pretty cool.

We'll be frequenting the zoo this winter, I think. Bee asks every day if we can go back, so I know we have his vote of approval.

I Like Big Trucks and I Cannot Lie

Our city hosts a Big Truck Day every year. They have a couple of fire trucks, an ambulance, a police car, a huge combine, a garbage truck, a snow plow, the ice cream truck, a small semi truck, and some other big vehicles. It's basically a chance for kids to come out and actually get to touch and sit in these big vehicles.

Of course my boys were happy to get to see and touch all the vehicles. They were surprisingly patient waiting in all the lines, and the lines were long because the weather was so amazing.


Bee is funny in crowds of people. While normally he's the child who talks with every stranger, when the crowds get big, this kid gets nervous. He was certainly interested in all the trucks, but he didn't want to do anything unless he could be touching me too.

I think the favorite may have been the garbage truck. Moose will be eating breakfast and on trash day will hear a garbage truck go by. He will immediately get up and leave his breakfast to go watch the garbage truck go back up the street (we live on a dead-end street, so what goes down must come back up). And always, "It's a garbage truck!" with as much enthusiasm as the 2.5 year-old can muster. Apparently this is another way in which he takes after his father. His mother tells me that he wanted to be a garbage man for much of his childhood.

The Good Life

I love this view out my back door.

70-something degrees. Sun shining. Low humidity.

Moose and Bee are old enough and my backyard is cool enough that they are starting to be able to go outside without me. I can be inside doing something and they can make their own fun outside. Don't get me wrong...inside doing something means doing something in the kitchen, a room with a great view of of the back yard. And I peek out at them every other breath I take. They are not unsupervised.

There's a little voice in the back of my head that whispers about the possibility of something happening. I do my best to ignore it. I try not be to too "when I was that age..." about raising my own children because the world in 1980-something is not the same world as today.

But in this instance, I get a little "when I was that age..."

I think playing outside with each other is good.  They don't need constant adult interaction. They know where I am if they need or want me, as proven by the handful of times they come up to the door to talk to me. I always ask them if they're ready to come in yet, and there response is always "No!"

They find sticks in the yard and pretend to have magic wands. Bee brought his wand up to the door and turned me into a penguin, then a monkey, then a frog today. There's some world in the sandbox out there where there little trucks are alive and have personalities. The upper deck of their fort turns into a pirate ship and they call down to whoever's on the ground: "Ahoy down there!"

This is one of the things I want most for my kids: to let them be kids. To have unstructured play time where there imaginations are free to roam. To get a little dirty and not worry about it. To allow them to learn that they don't need to be constantly "doing something" and that sometimes the best fun can be had when you aren't doing anything.

A Baby Hippo

Bee has a very active imagination.

He held out his empty hands to me.

"Mommy. Mommy, look!"

"Oh yeah?" I said. "What do you have there?"

"A baby hippo!"

"Where did you get a baby hippo from?"

"In a cave!"

"A cave?"

"A cave! A cave in my bed!" (And yes, he really talks like there's an exclamation point at the end of every sentence.)

Where does he come up with this stuff? Oh well. It makes me laugh.

Big Day for My Little Guy

Today was a big day for my little Moose. Today was surgery day.

The surgery really wasn't a huge deal...I mean, nothing was drastically wrong with Moose. It's just a little something we needed to take care of or face an increased risk of cancer. Since the C word is such a scary word, we of course decided to go ahead with the surgery.

The day started off a bit rough with some poor choices surrounding traffic and getting downtown at 8am. We made it though. We were late, but we made it.

Moose did great for a long time. Playing happily with the toys while people came in to talk to us and verify everything 1898 times. But after about the 23rd person came in, he got suspicious and his demeanor changed. No longer did he want to play with the toys. No longer did he want to cooperate when someone asked something of him. No longer would he even look at someone when they were speaking to him.

The surgery itself went just fine. But the 2.5-year-old who came out was a beast. He was so upset. He was like a caged animal fighting for his life to get away from us, to get away from the nurses and to get away from the hospital. Even though he's just woken from anesthesia minutes ago and had 2 incisions in him, he kept trying to get up and run away from us all. We had to physically hold him down while he made the most terrible braying noises in between pleas to put him down, to let him go home, and to leave him alone.

And during all this, I started to feel a little sick. And then I started to feel a little woozy. And so I had to step back and have the nurse get me some juice. Way to go, Mom. Way to be there for your kid.

Once we got the nurses out of the room we were able to get him calmed down so we could get started on all the things we needed to do to get out of there. We got him to take some medicine--but not without a bribe of French fries.

Moose fell asleep on the car ride home. And literally as soon as I went to get him out of the car and his eyes were open, he was looking for his McDonalds. So that's what we did this afternoon: we ate McDonalds and cuddled on the couch.

A couple hours in and it was like someone flipped a switch in the kid. He'd been clinging and wanting to lay on me all afternoon, but suddenly he was walking around, talking, and looking for trouble. And when he started looking for trouble, that's when I knew my little boy was back.

Why, Yes, I Am a Mom to Boys

You know how I know I have little boys in my house?

Because I get to work and pull my laptop out of my backpack. Something falls on the floor when I pull it out. It's a plastic football player the boys got in their Happy Meals last week.

It made me laugh and it made me smile. But what possessed them to put this guy in my backpack? Oh, the mysteries of the universe.

Yes, He's My Kid

There's a trait in my family: prehensile toes. We use our feet like another set of hands. Drop your pen on the floor? No big deal, just grab it with your toes!

Moose is quite the clone of his father. If you compare their 2-year-old pictures, you would swear they were the twins, not Moose and Bee. Moose is also super-mechanically inclined, which is another trait that comes directly from his dear old dad.

I think it's pretty normal for parents to pick out in their kids what traits they get from which parent. For a very long time, I wasn't sure Max was mine. I mean, sure, I carried him and birthed him. But did his father somehow pass on 100% of the DNA? At times it was tough to tell.

And then, he started using his feet for things. And I knew at that moment, he was, in fact, my kid.

(Yeah...pants are not common when we're at home in the summer. Gotta let your skin hang out while it doesn't stand the chance of being frozen off in 2 minutes flat!)

Pint-Sized Helpers

I think I mentioned the other day how my boys are at a great age where they want to help with everything. If I have the patience for it, it's a great thing!

The other day I was putting away some laundry and they, of course, asked if they could help. I wasn't in the right frame of mind when they first asked, so I told them to go play with their other toys. That didn't work so well, so instead the tried to help on their own. If you've ever had a toddler try to help you, you know that while their intentions are good, without a lot of specific direction, it can be quite a disaster.

And then the light bulb went off in my head. I told them to go get all the empty hangers out of their closet and put them in the basket. They liked this game. While they did that, I sorted out their shirts.

Once they had all the hangers in the basket, I put a shirt on a hanger and handed it to Moose and told him to go hang it up. Then hung another shirt on another hanger and handed it to Bee and told him to go hang it up.

About a million trips back and forth, and the boys had successfully hung up their shirts.

I just have to remember this every other time they want to help and try to figure out how I can break it down into little tasks they can help me with. Because I like when they're doing something for me for a change.

First Reward Day!

We started a new reward system 'round these parts.

Inspired by Jake and the Neverland Pirates, one of the boys' favorite shows, we started giving them gold doubloons for their good behavior. They get a doubloon for helping clean up all their toys, behaving well in stores, going poop on the potty, and other particularly good behavior.

Bee was really excited at the prospect of getting ice cream at McDonald's as his reward. So today they cashed in their doubloons and off to Mickey-Dee's we went.

My kids haven't quite figured out how to eat ice cream. They just dip their tongue into it. With that method, it takes forever to consume an ice cream cone. And when you take a super long time to eat ice cream, it doesn't go so well.

See that big piles of napkins in the middle of the table? Yeah, we used all those suckers. There may have been more ice cream in the napkins compared to in their mouths. I cleaned drips off their chins, off the table, off their shirts, off their laps, off the bench.

All those drips led to an early end to ice cream time when Moose's cone disintegrated enough that it tipped over and rolled on the floor. And, because he's 2, that was a calamity. There was crying. There was some begging. But sweet Bee offered to share his cone with Moose. And then they dripped a whole new load of melted ice cream on themselves and I told them Bee's cone was now broken and threw it away too.

I give myself Momma credit for a reward system that seems to have worked for the kids, but need to rethink what the reward is...I'm thinking we do something a little less messy next time.

An Introduction: Moose

This sweet boy with the bright blue eyes and the strawberry curls is my Moose.

For some reason, describing this child is more challenging for me.

He takes after his daddy for his mechanical aptitude. If there's something that moves, he will figure out how it happens. This kid figured out knob door handles at 18 months, making my life that much more challenging. He's figure out the baby gate now too, though he pretty much respects it. Screwdrivers, hammers, brooms and vacuum cleaners: tools of all sorts fascinate this kid. If I had to guess, I'd have to say he'd follow three generations before him and pursue mechanical engineering for his future career.

He's so quick to help. In fact, he begs to help: "Please, please, pretty please can I help you?" Melts my heart. In the morning when the boys join us in bed for a little TV and snuggle time, he'll often go back to his room to get his lovey and his stuffed frog, Lyle. Nearly every time, he grabs Bee's lovey and his stuffed monkey, Pal, and delivers them to his brother.

This kid is also stubborn as can be imagined. He has fully mastered the art of going completely limp when you suggest he do something that he doesn't want to. And if he didn't come up with the idea, there's pretty much nothing he wants to do. Sometimes you can get him to do something if you sell it to him as he can help you by doing it. But sometimes that doesn't work. And then you have a limp Moose laying on the floor.

I don't know what it is about this kid, but when he smiles, his whole face lights up and you can't help but smile too. I could spend all snuggling with him and tussling his curls.

The First of Many: Embarrassed by my Toddler

He looks so sweet, doesn't he?

Don't be fooled.

We went to Target today; a quick trip. We were standing in line at the returns desk and there were several grandma-age women around us. All of them fawning over the adorable red-headed twins.

Bee looks at me and points to the woman ahead of me.

"I don't like her," he said.

"What?' I asked, unsure if I just hadn't heard him correctly (note to self: that was probably a bad idea).

"I don't like that lady."

"Oh, geez," I said. "I'm sorry," I muttered to the gal as I pulled Bee in close. A very brief talk about how that wasn't nice ensued.

And mercifully, it was my turn to return my items so I was able to excuse myself from standing their awkwardly with them.

And, sadly, I know that this will not be the last time that my children say something I wish they wouldn't.

And I will remember all of these instances and go tit-for-tat with them when they're 13 years old.

Payback is a bitch.

An Introduction to Bee

I want to introduce you to my boys and tonight I'm going to introduce you to Bee. Why does Bee get to go first? Because, while he let Max be born first, since that moment he's insisted on going first for everything else.

Bee takes after his father not only with his red hair, but also with his social butterfly-ness. He talks to everyone he encounters. Just today at the grocery store, he marched right up to the worker restocking shelves and started telling her about how he was at "Gwampa's" today.

This kid is 100% pure, unadulterated energy. He is constantly moving, dancing, bouncing, singing, and hitting his brother. He does not sit still. Unless the TV is on. He loves to watch TV. Because I frequently turn it on for them while I cook dinner, the second we pull into the driveway after work, he says "We watch TV?" Sigh.  Mother of the year is not likely in my future.

One of my favorite things about Bee is when he tells you a story. He's so excited he trips over his own words (you have to read this out loud without taking a breath...that's how he does it): "We went to the zoo! We saw penguins! And lions! Loins go ROAR! And penguins! And leopard! And penguins! And! And! And!"


Going to the zoo is one of this kid's favorite activities, if that wasn't obvious in the story above. He loves animals of all sorts. We went to the county fair a couple of weeks ago (the picture above is him with a goat at the fair) and he was so excited to talk to all the animals. I think if he could go to the zoo every day, he'd be one happy kid.

Though I said above that he has a problem with hitting his brother and I think when you picture a super-active kid, you don't also picture a sweet kid. But this kid is sweet. A couple of weeks ago, his brother dropped his toast on the floor and one of the dogs snatched it up. Moose was upset and started crying. Bee didn't hesitate for even a moment before he tore his toast in half and handed it over. That's just one example of how considerate this kid is. 

If I had to speculate now about what Bee will want to do for a profession when he's all grown up, I might guess a realtor, or something else in sales. Something where he's active and socializing all the time sounds like it would be right up his alley.

So that's my sweet Bee. He keeps me on my toes. He keeps me laughing.

Momma Reaches a New Parenting Low

The first post feels like it should be an introduction and a welcome, but I really want to get in and tell today's story of my Adventures with Little Boys. I think I'll save some background for a "slow" day.

Bee has been a little off lately. He has been getting extremely, out-of-this-world crabby when the least bit tired. In this state, logic escapes the boy and he doesn't know what he wants.

Take today for example. He didn't want to eat lunch because he was tired. But when I tried to put his plate away for later, he lost his mind. Screaming, crying, trying to climb up my leg...the whole works. So I gave the plate back. Commence more screaming, crying, trying to climb my leg.

Since there clearly was no winning, I put the plate away again and took him to his bedroom and tried to get him settled down for his nap.

"I want my quesadilla," the squirmy, sweaty 2-year-old with snot running down his face from all his tears blubbered at me.

I tried logic: "Toby, I've given you your quesadilla twice and you said you didn't want it. We'll save it for when you're up from your nap and then you can have it."

"I want my quesadilla," the squirmy, sweaty 2-year-old with snot running down his face from all his tears sobbed at me.

I tried a firm hand: "Bee, it's time for a nap. We're going to take lay down now."

"I want my quesadilla," the squirmy, sweaty 2-year-old with snot running down his face from all his tears wailed at me.

 Alright, I thought. Maybe he really does want his quesadilla. So we went back to the kitchen. I tried to hand him his lunch. Which he promptly tried to dump on the floor.

We started to leave the kitchen and the wailing escalated.

I hauled the kid to his room and tried to coerce him to lay still. I wish that was a joke.

Bee, of course, struggled harder and wailed, "I want my quesadilla," studdering due to the severity of his sobs.

"You want you quesadilla?" I asked.

"Yes!" he wept.

So I bent to the will of the 2-year-old and got his quesadilla from the kitchen.

Laying in his bed, the sobs turned to snivels as he nibbled on his lunch.

He gnawed it down until it was nothing and then drifted to sleep, overcome by his exhaustion.

And that is when I reached my new parenting low by sending my kids to bed with his lunch.


To explain the picture above, we've really been enjoying our play set in the back yard. And there was no way I was going to try to take a picture of the Bee in the state he was in. The play set is a great place to burn off a little energy and it takes no effort to send them there. We can go at 7:30am, like we did this morning...because it had been an hour and a half since they woke up and we were already bored. Moose loves to swing, and while Bee doesn't, he's perfecting the art of pushing his brother on the swing. I love when they work together.