sac4kids.com Blog

My boys are on a road trip.  Yep, they took off for Phoenix via Las Vegas on Friday.  And they are having the best time.  I have talked to both of them on numerous occasions, and though I am missed (particularly by Patrick) I have heard wonderful stories of the 2:00am walk around Circus Circus in Vegas, the cute waitresses at the sports bar in Phoenix (that gave my son a free ice cream sundae because he is “SO CUTE!!!!”) and the meltdown at the mall getting off of the carousel.

And I miss them terribly.  Last night, my husband called as Patrick was crying for me, wanting to go home. My heart sank, knowing that I couldn’t be there to give him the hugs and kisses he needed before drifting off to sleep. So, I did the next best thing – I sang.  Every song that I know.  We covered ABCs, spiders going up and down the water spout, stars twinkling, along with his favorite made up tunes-”Baby, baby, baby, baby boy! (then laughing)”, “Patrick went pee pee on the potty”, and of course, the one, the only, the original, “Butt Paste”.  And, to my delight, he calmed down, stopped crying, and according to my husband, fell asleep seconds after we hung up the phone.  My husband and I said our good nights quickly and he told me, ”I need to hang up so I can be here for Patrick.”  It is true…he is the best dad in the universe.  I smiled myself to sleep.

This morning, all was fine again.  But another night in Las Vegas tonight makes me think I’d better warm up my singing voice come bedtime…

Labor Day means so many things: the “unofficial” end of summer, an extra day off as a “reward” for all of the overtime and stress your daily job entails, barbeques, sunshine, and lots of TRAFFIC.

But for me, as Labor Day rolls around, I am always reminded of my grandpa, and the year that we painted the fence.  It was supposed to be a Labor Day like all others – visiting Grandma and Grandpa’s house, eating barbeque, running though the sprinklers and goofing around with the cousins. Gramps, however, had other plans.  He decided that this Labor Day, his grandkids would…paint the fence.  You should have seen our shocked faces when we were given the dreaded news – we, the four of us, two boys, two girls, would be WORKING?  On Labor Day?

“But it’s LABOR DAY!”  we complained to deaf ears.  “No one should LABOR on Labor Day!”  And then, with the guiding eyes of my grandfather upon us, we picked up our brushes and painted.  And painted.  And painted.  We painted the fence.  We (oops) painted the grass.  And we (accidentally on purpose) painted each other.  My grandma joked that we had more paint on us than that fence did.

We still ate barbeque.  We still rinsed ourselves off with the hose.  We were still hanging out with our cousins.  And we made grandpa happy.

These days, I’ll bet very few kids are painting fences today.  Many of them are inside playing video games instead.  Maybe the world needs more grandpas like mine – a grandpa who commanded attention, who didn’t really ask, but told.  Usually with a smile and sometimes, a wink. 

We learned how to paint fences that day, but we also learned what it takes to make a positive contribution to your family.  Maybe someday my dad will ask Patrick to mow the lawn, or take out the garbage, or even paint a fence.  And he’ll remember Labor Day as I do  – not as a day off, but as a reminder of family.

Miss you Gramps.

Advertising is powerful – the symbols, the catchy tunes….I could sing “My bologna has a first name…” and I never even ATE bologna!

Well, in the past week, Patrick has internalized the marketing campaigns of two major companies!

We were listening to the radio and a commercial break came on. I usually change the channel, but for some reason I didn’t this time.  Seconds after the MetroPCS man with the funky sounding voice says, “Hello…hello…hello…” my dear son repeats, “Heh-whoa..heh-whoa…heh-whoa….”  And he’s been saying it ever since!

Also, we got some stuff from my mother-in-law last week, and some of it was packed into a box from Starbuck’s. Patrick pointed to the mermaid symbol on the box and said, “Mama, cottee!” Yes, the boy who has never set foot inside a fast food restaurant sure knows his coffee!

This just proves to me that, indeed there IS a reason we only let him watch commercial-free TV!

PatrickBrokeTheSpaceBarOnTheComputer.

WhenIArrivedAtTheComputerThisMorningTheSpaceBarCoverWasLyingNextToTheComputer

It’s-really-quite-a-drag.

Why.couldn’t.he.have.broken.a.less.useful.key.like.the.function.key.which.I.never.use?

Ugh,ugh,and-ugh!

30 minutes later…

I fixed the spacebar!  After unsuccessfully trying to gently (and then, not so gently) reattach it, I realized that in addition to not being able to space any of my words, the “B” key wasn’t working properly either. It was really hard to press down.  So……after much cursing under my breath and telling Patrick, “You are not allowed to touch the computer!” in my firmest of firm mommy voice….

I got out the trusty “in case of emergency or entertain your son for hours and hours” flashlight (which, surprisingly, had working batteries), directed it toward the problem area and VOILA!  There was a teeny tiny little rubber thing stuck in the “B” key.

Aha!  I strategically placed the rubber piece on the connector doo-dads, reconnected the space bar and IT WAS FIXED!  Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I will never take SPACING for granted again!

So I’ve been a fan of organic produce for quite some time now.  But, as we know, it can be quite expensive to eat organically all of the time, and there aren’t always organic options of the produce that I need at that moment.  I’ve been a stickler about some things, like dairy and grains, but produce I’ve gone back and forth with depending on availability and (sometimes) cost.  I created my own “if I must buy non-organic” list and decided that things with thicker skins like avocados or bananas would have a lesser chance of pesticide contamination, so I’ve been known to purchase these.  Little did I know, there was a list of “okay” non-organic produce already created for me by others (and they actually did research on it).

Yesterday, as I was browsing through the Sara Snow website, I learned about the clean and dirty lists of produce, meaning you should ALWAYS buy the items on the dirty list organically because of the level of pesticide residue, but the items on the clean list have relatively little pesticide residue on them.

Here are the lists:

The Dirty Dozen:  peaches, apples, bell peppers, celery, nectarines, strawberries, cherries, pears, imported grapes, spinach, lettuce, potatoes

The Clean 15:  onions, avocado, sweet corn, pineapple, mango, asparagus, peas, kiwi, cabbage, broccoli, papaya, watermelon, eggplant, sweet potato, tomato  (banana was on one of the lists I found also – making that 16!)

Though we all benefit from supporting our local organic farmers, those who grow sustainably and use environmentally friendly practices, I figure the more educated you are, the better!

So even if you just substitute one of those dirty fruits or veggies for organically grown ones, you’ll make a difference in your health and the health of our earth.

WARNING!  Do not read this if you hate bodily fluids!

We’ve peed.  We’ve pooped.  We’ve peed in the potty, near the potty, and…nowhere near the potty (like right on the floor in the dining room).

I’ve been peed on, stepped in pee, wiped up more sprinkles of pee than I care to share, and have a lovely photo of a piece of Patrick’s potty poop on my cell phone.  Grammy (or “Betty” as Patrick calls her) took the photo and sent it to us when she was babysitting.  Oh, how we laughed that day!

When he runs around without pants, he does quite well.  “Mama, pee pee potty!  Choc chip!”

Put underwear on him and it’s pee and poop central, even with chocolate chip bribery.  And believe me, it’s a struggle to even get him into the underwear.

The funniest thing about this whole experience is that well, he’s a BOY! So I’ve had to ask my husband all sorts of personal questions about what boys do and how they do it.  And he tells me.  In very technical terms.  As if he were teaching me how to golf or something.  It’s hilarious.

I’ve heard about these programs that boast potty training in three days.  THREE days?  You’ve got to be kidding me.  I’ll be lucky if he’s potty trained in three MONTHS!

To be continued…

So we’ve started potty training.  Which, for us, basically means that Patrick runs around without a diaper and then (hopefully) runs to the potty when he feels the urge.  We have, and I am not kidding, THREE potty type contraptions for him to use.

And for whatever reason (chocolate chip bribery?) it is actually working.  For a few days now, he yells, “Mama pee pee!) and runs to the closest potty chair and pees.  We high five, sing potty songs (don’t ask), say lots of “I’m so proud of you!”  It is truly an amazing feat.

He pooped in the potty once.  Yesterday.  It was halfway out by the time I scooped him up and placed him on the potty, but he did make it!

I even went to Target and bought him some teeny weeny boxer briefs, just like his dad’s!  They are sooooo cute!  Only one problem though – he refuses to wear them.  I thought we could try wearing them around the house, but oh no.  The cotton fabric must have been too much for him.

So for now, he runs around with no pants all day.  And I giggle at his cute little butt.

Though newspapers are becoming obsolete these days, there is still a need for jaw-dropping headlines – only now we read them on the internet instead.  Here are some of the most newsworthy events of the past few weeks:

Child Stuck to Doormat: Mother in Hysterics

Last week, during Sacramento’s torturous heat wave, a mother decided to take her son to see a puppet show at Fairytale Town.  As they reached the front door, the mother realized that it was going to be blazing hot outside, she left her son on the mat (inside the house, with the door still locked) and preceded to run to the back “terrace” super quick to water the upside down tomato plant hanging from the roof.  Upon returning from her one minute trip, she found her two year old yelling, “Mama!  Stuck!” at the top of his lungs.  Evidently he had tried to undo his velco sandals and had velcroed his foot to the mat.  The mother laughed hysterically as she undid the velcro and refastened the sandals.

Even Cute People Get Boogers

On the way to Fairytale Town, still giggling from the Velcro Doormat incident, mother and child quietly cruised along Interstate 80.  The mother was feeling sentimental – thinking that she loved this moment in time, spending the day with her son, providing him with new and exciting experiences.  An avid babysitter and teacher, she had waited her whole life to become a mother. Reveling in the moment, she looked lovingly into the rear view mirror at her perfect little boy, so young and innocent.  Her eyes were met with the cutest of ugliness. Her beautiful son, quite possibly the most adorable kid on the planet, had a gigantic booger smeared across his right cheek.  Yes, even cute kids get boogers.  Worse yet?  It was gone by the time they arrived at their destination.  Where oh where did it go?  Maybe we don’t want to know…

Child Imitates Father’s Love

Coming home from work one day, a mother walked in the front door and was greeted by her wonderful husband.  “Hi, Love.  How was your day?”  Without missing a beat, their two-year-old repeats, “Hi Wuv. I ee eh day?”  The mother smiled for miles.

Two-year-old Prepares for Acting Career

As we all know, injuries are commonplace in the life of a two-year-old.  Picture this:  Child falls, child cries, mom asks, “Are you okay?”, kisses all around, then all is well.  Well, one dramatic child is milking this scenario for all it’s worth. Envision this if you will:  Child pretends to fall down.  Child pretends to cry, and yells, “Ehhhh, ehhhh, ehhhh. Mama, ee boo boo!”  Mom asks, “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”  Child holds up toe or finger.  Mom kisses said boo boo.  “Better?” asks Mom.  “Yeah, all butter”, replies Child.  This occurs several times a day.  Watch out Hollywood!  Or maybe the NBA?

Child Poops in Potty – A Family Rejoices

Last night around 7:30, a boy stood in the kitchen as his mother folded laundry in the other room.  “Mama, poo poo!” he cried.  The mother came running, swooped him up, and gently placed him on the potty just as said poop broke free.  The mother clapped.  The boy clapped.  The dad was called.  And THREE chocolate chips were earned that day.

Child Makes Do in Tough Economy

In these tough economic times, kids have learned that they cannot always have their heart’s desire immediately.  They must be patient and save, appreciate what they DO have, and make the best of each and every situation.  So, with that in mind, what does a musical toddler do when he has no microphone to sing into?  Why, he uses a sprinkler head of course!

Yesterday Patrick and I visited Fair Oaks Parent Participation Preschool in (yep, you guessed it) Fair Oaks.  And we loved it!

Patrick’s favorite thing was typing on the real keyboard that was unattached to anything meaningful.  He just sat on a bench and typed away.  He also loved all of the big wooden cars and trucks and the dramatic play area with shopping carts, kitchen sets and furniture – all his size!

I loved how the teacher was so welcoming and warm.  As were the parents. They answered all of my “new mom to the preschool thing” questions like how does snack work, what happens when your kid isn’t completely potty trained yet, etc.  All with patience and understanding.  I was sold in the first ten minutes.  The kids were happy, the parents were actively helping or writing observations of kids, there were fun projects to do – who knew cutting straws with scissors could be so much fun?

So we’re enrolling in a two day a week program – I’ll work in the preschool one of the days, the husband will drop him off the other day.  Can you believe it?  My baby going to preschool?

I’ve spent most of today holding him tight (except for the time outs…ahh the joy of being two!).  Since he was born, I’ve dreaded the day when he decides that he no longer wants to cuddle, cuddle, snuggle, snuggle with his mom.  I treasure each and everyday, even the grouchy ones, knowing that he is growing up, that he will only be two and a half for a short while.

I vividly remember one day after he was just born.  I was holding him and he was sleeping.  I remember thinking to myself, “I really should be cleaning up or doing dishes right now. I could put him down and be productive.”  But looking down at his teeny tiny face, I stayed right where I was, knowing then that he would only be that little for a finite amount of days, that I needed to absorb all that I could right then.  And sure enough, he grew.  And he doesn’t sleep in my arms very often anymore.  It happens so fast, this growing up business.

At the same time, it is so exciting to watch him grow and learn, to experience life in new and challenging ways. A journey of love, laughs and fun.

So, preschool it is.  I can’t wait!

 Sad Update:  We didn’t get in!  Even sadder?  Due to budget cuts, the Parent Participation preschool program is only holding a limited number of classes.  So….we’ve decided to start the Parent-Toddler Program instead.  Patrick will be one of the older kids, but I think I’d rather he be the oldest than the youngest!  Wish us luck…

Today’s game of choice was gymnastics.  For Patrick?  Easy, peasy.  For me?  Not so much.

After throwing his little body feet over head in a rapid succession of somersaults, Patrick yelled out between giggles, “Mama’s turn!”  We do this often, this turn taking business.  Most times, it’s a good thing.  We’re sharing crackers, catching a ball, reading books.  But somersaults?  That’s a different story. Now, before you get on my case, ask yourself, “When was the last time YOU did a somersault?”  Huh. Thought so.

However, with a two-year-old egging you on, you only have a few seconds to react.  Mama’s turn?  Well, I used to be quite good at them.  So what if it was 25 years ago, before childbirth, years of standing in high heels, and that one unfortunate trip down the stairs at Fanny Ann’s?

I went for it anyway.  And I must say, I’m STILL quite good at it.  Patrick yelled, “Yay Mama!” so I’m guessing it was a definite TEN.  I emerged from the rolling over just a tad bit dizzy, but I did make one more attempt before retiring my gymnast body for the day.

And, yes, it was fun pretending to be two all over again.

Until tomorrow at least.  Do we have any Tylenol?