As I was saying...

Seems it's been a while since I've posted again, so I'm going to share some observations about our kids that I've made on Facebook in the past few weeks (actually Susanne posted the last one which makes me laugh every time I see it!) Cheers! -M

January 30, 2012

This morning I spilled some water and muttered a bit loudly "oh s*it!" From the bathtub Benji then happily chirped "oh chips!" Oh alright. He happily chirped what I'd said. :-(

January 27, 2012

Life lesson #207. Approach yakking/yelling toddler in the pre-dawn hours like approaching a ferocious beast. Make no eye contact. Give commands in a gentle voice. Show no fear while slowly backing away...

January 26, 2012

"Just 2 more minutes of rocky rocky (rocking) Danny". "Aw..5 minutes! Please!" "Hmm...okay, how about 1.5 minutes?" He drifted off to sleep,  thrilled with his "victory". Are you smarter than a 4 year old? ;-)

January 24, 2012

What to do when 1,2,3 Magic becomes 1,2,3 Monotony?

January 23, 2012

If there was FB for 2 yr olds, would they post stuff like "I did it!" Would they change status to stuff like "potty trained?" And would they have "mine, mine, mine" buttons?

January 22, 2012

Cognitive dissonance=4 year old playing awesome super hero while bursting out tears about every teeny tiny boo boo :-)

January 19, 2012

I love that Benji's new favorite thing to do is yell "HUG" and give big bear hugs. Makes all the rest of this stuff in life seem rather unimportant :-)

January 15, 2012

So apparently the nickname "Stinkerbelle" is not our toddler's favorites. "No, no mommy!" he disagrees. Hmm...alright, but there is something to be said for "if the shoe--er--diaper fits...

January 14, 2012

Not much sweeter than seeing a 2 year old view his Nana via Skype for the first time, saying bye-bye by planting a big kiss on her (or rather the screen).

January 9, 2012

Dear Spellcheck. My son's name is "Benji" not "Banjo". Really. Sincerely, Maniac

January 9, 2012

I quote: Mama, can you pause the snow? - Danny

Benji Sings!

My Brain is Full. May I Be Excused Please?

Wow. Information, information. So much information. Blogs and Facebook and a Facebook-like collaboration site at work. Our Yahoo e-mail, my always piling up work e-mail, newspapers, links to interesting articles, stuff from Danny's school (both via e-mail and in his daily folder.) I can connect instantly to the treasure trove of "online" from work, home--my Blackberry, Su's IPhone, my new Kindle. I sometimes think there is a limit to what I can manage, and this, ladies and gentlemen is the excuse I give this week for being such a negligent blogger of late. I don't have time to create. I'm too busy digesting!

Sometimes I wonder what it must have been like to live in the not too distant past. Most people never traveled probably more than 20 miles from where they were born. Their "social network" consisted of their neighbors, church friends and folks from town. If you could read, I'm sure that books could open your mind to a whole new world of thoughts and images, but more than likely books were not that easy to come by for most.

Would this have been a boring life? If this was the only life you ever knew, how would you make an assessment that it was boring? And what is the opposite of boring anyway? Is this crazy 200 mile per hour ride every day down this "information superhighway" the anti-boring? I don't think so.

I think it's good in that our brains probably stay pretty sharp as we continually make connections with new information. But I think that the overload can also hurt. Our minds become so full of "stuff" that there is scant room for reflection and deeper thinking on well, anything.

But our world is what it is. I could do all sorts of things to slow down the onslaught, and sometimes I do. I'll opt out of some e-mails that I get constantly and never read. Or I'll request a digest from listserves rather than getting sometimes dozens of messages each day. But for the most part, I continue to slog through. Mindfully at times, but more often that not, mindlessly.

I could have written this in a private diary or journal, but no, I had to blog this deep thought. You know, so I could add some new food for thought to your world.

You're welcome. -Monica

The Crack (or is that the creak?) of Dawn...

I'm an early riser. Didn't always used to be that way, but for about 10 years now I have easily woken up at or before 6 am. There is not much I enjoy more than heading downstairs and as the sun gently rises, reading the paper from cover to cover with a hot cup of coffee.

In reality, this hardly ever happens.

Why you may ask? Exhibit A shown here.

Oh how I love them, but oh how they torment me with their keen hearing. You see, our house is well built and not too creaky, but when I dare to tempt the fates by QUIETLY opening our door, then QUIETLY going to the bathroom before attempting to navigate the steps, I find myself holding my breath waiting for one of them to cry out.

If I am lucky, I can survive this portion of the competition, but then it's on to the stairs. The dreaded stairs.

Should I try to dash quickly down them? Or slowly descend, stopping on each step, hoping beyond hope that I've not been discovered?

As it turns out, none of my strategies seem to matter much. One of the boys inevitably wakes up and calls out (which of course wakes up his brother).  If it's Danny, he's up and running out of his room, excitedly telling me all about his latest dream (this morning it was that he lived in an aquarium and his best friend was scuba diving there with our fish.) If it's the little guy in his crib, he begins his loud and persistent demand for MOMMY! MAMA!  Benji will not take no for an answer. There is no winning.

So when I wake up early if I have a book I try to read. If not, I daydream about the newspaper just waiting for me one flight down. Calling my name I swear. I will admit that sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own home.

Then when my impulses get the best of me, although I know I shouldn't, I try once more to sneak downstairs. And every once in a great while I succeed. Then there are the other 99% of the times.

There's always tomorrow ;-) -Monica