Silly Cakes

PDG and MDG both love to play on J-Man's and my phones. Maybe we shouldn't let them? I don't know. Regardless, they do. They used to love to scroll through photos of themselves. Then they moved on to some toddler apps that teach colors and numbers and the stuff that you're not supposed to expect a device to teach them, but in reality what can a little screen-reinforcement hurt on the topic? Sometimes they make their way to Netflix for some Daniel Tiger, Super Why, Chuggington or even occasionally the short-lived and intense Russian series Masha's Tales.

And also, as I've probably mentioned before, they love youtube. The thing about youtube is it remembers what you've watched before, and gives you suggestions. If, heaven forbid, I've watched a grown-up video (don't think badly of me here, I'm talking the soundtrack to Last Five Years, or the video for Bieber's Love Yourself or anything else that doesn't feature puppets or nursery rhymes) the boys get upset wanting to know where their videos are and insisting I get back to those bright and animated suggestions.

But once the suggestions pop up, especially when MDG takes the lead, it's a rapid fire roulette of clips. One video leads to another, to another, often with none of them being finished, until they land on either a) something they love or b) something they've explicitly been told to avoid. Again, don't go to bad places with this. I'm talking videos of people opening toys or eggs and showing how they work. Somewhere in the world millions of children or adults are watching these videos, but they are strictly prohibited in the G household. Want to know how toys work? Go play with any of the ones currently sitting stagnant in either of the giant toyboxes we own.

So, anyway, one day the boys got really quiet - never a good sign - and when J-Man and I realized they were watching what must've been an off limits video, we checked it out. Sure enough, it was someone explaining how something worked. Only the product wasn't in English packaging. And it wasn't a toy. It was Japanese gummy sushi candies. PDG explained that they were silly cakes, and the name stuck.

Also, surprise surprise, J-Man decided he had to get his hands on this treat. He went to the always trustworthy Amazon, ordered some silly cakes from Japan, and we waited the weeks for them to arrive.

They were a success. The boys loved them. It was daddy son bonding time. And apparently they taste good to grown-ups too. Plus, with the magic of youtube, we knew we could find videos in English of how the whole thing works.

Since then we've ordered them twice more, and the boys love making silly cakes with daddy. There's measuring and mixing and near chem-lab precision, and in the end, a tiny tasty treat. Highly recommended.

And, for my one Texas friend who will have any idea what I'm talking about, making these is like mashing together memories of our Thursdays in NYC at Wasabi Lobby and that Tasti D-Lite with all the gummies by the pound. Now all we need is a way to incorporate Grey's Anatomy and its decline into whine central...

PDG Turns Four!

Well, it happened. My little baby PDG got all grown on me and now is a whopping four years old. He's still my little PDG Pie though, and I still want to eat him up!

At any rate, turning four apparently means a lot of celebrating. I mean, there was the sleepover the week before, and then the anticipation of a daily countdown from then until the 12th.

On Friday we took some cupcakes (because PDG insisted that this year he wanted cupcakes and cake) to his daycare. All the big kids happily sang to him, especially knowing they got a treat for having done absolutely nothing. That's the best part about birthdays right - getting treats just for existing? Even better when it's just for someone else existing.

Saturday PDG awoke fully aware it was the big day, and unable to contain his excitement. By the time Mama and Papa H arrived, we knew there'd be no nap. Instead, we made cupcakes.

Before the official party at 5pm, we had to give in and do some presents early because somebody just coud not wait another minute.

Sidenote: PDG's current fascination with puzzles is driving J-Man's fight against tiny toy pieces struggle to the limits.

We decided on a not-quite party this year. Paw Patrol ribbon, TMNT napkins, and Batman plates with a random pin the tail on the donkey and tons of fruit and pizza made for an odd assortment of decorations and a menu.

PDG loved it though. LOVED it. And with his very very best friend Lil O, as well as his neighborhood church crew and a happy-to-tag-along Charlie, it was the most kid activity our backyarad has seen yet. And by far the most our living room has endured. Thank heavens for Lego Movie on DVR to keep us warm as the sun started to set.

All in all, a great day celebrating a great kid.

And before I forget, his stats. He's 40lbs even - 81% - and 44 inches tall - 98%. He could answer most of the doctor's questions, but clearly I need to get him a tutor so he knows how to answer "what gallops?" next time. (Honestly, can doctors give us a cheat sheet ahead of time so I can teach to the test? Not that I do that as a teacher or anything, but my competitive edge totally took over and I really wanted my kid in the 99% in the 'random doctor questions at a checkup' category too. I'm just sayin'...)

Hugs and kisses to my big little baby.

Spring and Sleeping Over

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of spring approaching. With spring come a bunch of birthdays, including Big Bro hitting a major milestone, and my little PDG coming up on birthday number four. FOUR! It hasn't happened yet, but the countdown hit single digits and that has us all feeling a bit like this.

Also, we've been enjoying our new "silly app" these past few weeks making videos along that vain. If you haven't played with #msqrd yet, I totally encourage it. And then please send me your videos so I can laugh at with you.

The bursts of warm weather are getting more consistent too, allowing for photos like this

and this

and this.

But the biggest development is that PDG got to have his very first sleepover. And who better to invite than his very very best friend Lil O? So KB and I got to further our plans of manufacturing our kids' bff-dom by adding "survived first sleepover together" to their list of reasons they should always hang out.

Lil O came over after preschool on Friday, which tested PDG's patience for a solid two hours when every gust of wind outside was disappointingly not yet his best friend. Until it was. And he came bringing a happy meal from Old McDonalds. After stuffing faces they got to run around and make messes (and then do a pretty awesome job cleaning up messes) and eventually got down to bedtime business.

Lil O got to try out his brand new Batman sleeping bag, which naturally made both MDG and PDG wish they were the ones on the floor. Then lights out to three toddlers in one tiny bedroom. Did they go right to sleep? Did you go right to sleep at sleepovers with your best friends? Yeah, neither did they. Finally around 9:39pm I turned to J-Man and said, "I don't hear anyone anymore." And then, at 5:40am I turned to J-Man and said, "you think they're really up?"

There was breakfast, a few cartoons, a lot of train tracks and blocks and every other toy in all the toy chests (minus legos, I have my limits!) and then off to the library for story time.

We were so certain they were tuckered out enough to nap after leaving the library and saying some sad goodbyes (like they wouldn't see each other in a week for the cake and presents party). Maybe Lil O did. PDG was far too hyped from the best night ever to give in to anybody's sleep.

So while Saturday night ended in much earlier bedtimes than anyone in the G house might readily admit, it was worth it for all the smiles.

Math, Logically

I've asked my parents before if there were early signs in my childhood that I was going to be different. And by different I mean, you know... a mathlete.

I don't remember not loving numbers more than words, or feeling intense satisfaction after having solved a problem. Reading was fine. Writing I eventually started to get pretty into, when simply playing out stories with real toys became frowned upon. Math, though, it's always been my thing.

So I've asked because I now have a little guy I'm curious about. Here he is, in case you'd forgotten. (He's totally ignoring my pleas not to grow up so fast!)

But back to math, PDG has been doing something a little different lately. One, he's into Legos - the real kind with tiny pieces that you step on and curse everything you can think of while carefully trying not to actually curse since the Lego Movie has proven that he's really good at quoting things. But, since he's into real Legos, MDG has a renewed interest in the Duplo knockoffs that we have called Megablocks. And so, because this is how it goes with two kids, PDG will often decide he isn't into real Legos anymore and would rather take over MDG's "lego blocks" and make things like this.

Notice anything? Perhaps how perfectly symmetrical it is? Because that's how every single creation PDG builds is. If there aren't two or four matching pieces, then it doesn't belong in his tower/plane/car/rocket.

Miss S at Daycare, who also has a gigantic tub of Megablocks, thinks it's an awareness of color. I'm not fully convinced. My inner numbers lover is hoping that PDG is turning into a math kid. One who will one day get excited by the prospect of solving a logic problem like this that a friend has posted on facebook.

No, I haven't solved it. It would take a super long time. But I did lie awake thinking about it at 3am recently for no reason other than I wanted to. I really really wanted to. And maybe, when I'm not an exhausted mama chasing after two strong-willed toddlers all the time, I'll reread this post and sit down and do it.

Maybe.

Miss Porter and Her Craft Ideas

On my last trip to see Mama and Papa H we finally made it out to see Miss Porter. It had been far too long (we've both had babies since our last visit) and it was time to see what she and her girls were up to. By the way, you should check out her blog that she just started. I'm sure it's going to keep filling with her creative ideas and is worth bookmarking.

Well, my boys had a blast. PDG loved cleaning her fake owls with shaving cream and picking up sticks from the previous storm for her birdfeeder. MDG got a little fresh with her youngest; I think he thought she was a giggly teddy bear. Then inside PDG found their play kitchen and story stones and sunglasses and poof balls.

While I was there Porter shared a go-to idea for long car trips - an I Spy Bottle. Both MDG and PDG liked it so I figured we'd give it a whirl for our upcoming trip to see Big Sis. I rustled through my old toys and random things lying around my parents' house to find a variety of trinkets, erasers, legos, shapes, etc that could fit in the bottle. Once back at our home PDG and I used one of MDG's naps to look through the collection. He helped tell me what each one was, then reluctantly placed it in the bottle. (I think he was hoping for a little more play time with some of them. Luckily he got to keep the few that didn't fit.) Then we poured in the rice and shook-shook-shook.  Voila!

It's now hidden until the plane ride so that it can feel brand new and exciting. Fingers crossed.  But hey, even if it fails, we had fun putting it together.  And then, once it was sealed up and put away, PDG continued to get a kick out of playing with the extra rice. Scooping and pouring and hiding coins and, naturally, spilling it everywhere. We'll be pulling that tub of now-dirty rice back out again the next time it's too rainy or stifling hot to go outside for sure.

Thanks, Porter, for the ideas and the visit.  Success and fun all around.

Two Years Old!!

Looky looky, guess who's two!

Yep, this guy...

Can't you see how thrilled he was that I was taking his photo at 5:30am?  At that point it was just another Wednesday morning.  Far enough into the week to be exhausted when I flipped on the light.  Maybe my singing didn't help?

PDG had a great day with his buddies at daycare.  Apparently they sang to him a bunch, and Ms S even got him a little gift.  He was certainly wound up when he got home.  By the time we finished all the Face Times and speakerphone conversations he was a tantrum-throwing terrible two for sure.  

We waited until Saturday for the party.  In part because the weather has been Crazy (yes, with a capital C) and also because Mama and Papa H would already be coming to babysit so it made sense.  Rather than a real party though, we went for the low key approach.  We invited over KB and Big and Lil Os and that was it.  Nice and simple.  The G way.

Yeah, this was a mere 36 hours before the snowfall of the last post, and we were happily playing in the backyard and having a picnic.  PDG understands gifts better since Christmas and Lil O happily helped him open the presents.  They are so adorable together!  Stickers, a current favorite, a train set, a Seahawks helmet, a trike, a teeball set and a fire truck are now a part of the endless collection of toys taking over our little house.  Each one made him super excited and confused that there could be anything else.

The boys played while we passed around MDG and soaked in the sun.  Having successfully worn themselves out for naptime, we did cupcakes with a candle and called it a day.  

It's crazy to realize how big this boy is getting.  He has so much to say and so many expressions and his first real friends.  Here's to another adventurous year watching him grow and learn and laugh.

Addy and Me

I've read some articles recently about toys and feminism and dolls and the general downward spiral of our society since we children of the '80s once played and laughed in happy unison.  Specifically, American Girl Dolls have come up a few different times.

Not so shocking fact: I had an Addy doll.

Possibly shocking fact: my Addy doll opened my eyes to race in a way no other toy ever rivaled.

First, I should mention, most of my friends growing up were white.  (Well, they are still white.  We just are no longer growing up.  It just sounded like they were only white back then...) As such, at their houses, we played with white toys.  White Barbies, white dolls, white Little People etc.  I don't actually remember anyone else owning black toys.  And let's face it, in the '89-'95 era black and white were really the only options. They probably still are in most cases.

I, on the other hand, as a little girl had a variety.  We had two Ken dolls - one white with smooth plastic hair, and one black with a bumpy plastic afro.  Both, of course, were dreamy and deserving of my mini-skirt wearing brood of Barbies.  The girls were also about half black and half white.  The black girls would date Black Ken and the white girls would date White Ken.  But I never labeled it as such.  I probably didn't even think of it.  On some subconscious level I must've learned that's the way it works. (I've obviously since adjusted that view)

One year, however, the Pleasant Company catalogs that arrived quarterly at my home, addressed to me, with beautiful faces of sweet American girls and cute little babies, got the best of me.  I just HAD to have one.  I asked Santa.  I mentioned it often.  I talked about it with my friends at my private school where all the girls already had one (or two) or were asking for one for Christmas as well.

Santa gave in.

He brought me Addy.  After all, that's who I had asked for.  Of the five (?) dolls you could order then - a far cry from the any eye/hair/skin tone combo now available - she was the only non-white option.  I liked that she would look like me.  I wanted to dress like her.  I wanted to read her stories.

I loved my Addy doll.  She was the classiest of my doll collection by far, though that didn't stop me from having her date my Urkel doll whose glasses had conveniently broken and left him looking more like his alter ego Stefan. I got her tea set and her Christmas dress and she was popular and beautiful and I wanted to be her.  (Yeah, I still had years of therapy and self-esteem issues yet to work through back then).

It was the book that struck a cord though.  Every doll had the same series of books.  Meet So-and-So.  So-and-So learns a lesson.  Changes for So-and-So.  Etc.

In the first book, Addy is a slave.  Not a house slave either, though that wouldn't make a difference.  It's just one of those ways of softening an ugly American history. Addy Walker lives on a plantation before escaping North where she can learn and thrive and have adventures in the 1860s.

This fact, and particularly a scene in which she has to eat worms missed on a tobacco plant, made me ill.  I read it over and over again.  It didn't matter to me that it was fiction.  It was fiction meant to represent very real moments and people in the past, so I couldn't stop from connecting emotionally.  I cried for Addy Walker.  I cried for every black girl and black boy born into a life of slavery and captivity.  I cried for my own great-great-great grandparents  that had endured the same indecency.  I cried because I knew so little time separated my own life story from having similar heartaches.

Reading this little book was not my first time contemplating race.  I knew my parents had both been in high school when their towns finally gave in to integration mandates (10 years past Brown v Board). I'd been called the n-word when a kid was mad at me once. Still, it hadn't fully clicked before.  Now I was holding a toy doll, this mass of plastic and stuffing and unnecessarily coarse hair, and I saw a past I had narrowly escaped but that to which I would always be tied.

It's kinda weird, right, that I attached all this to just a doll?  I guess I was a little strange as a kid.  And if you know me, you probably know that I did play with my toys for far longer than is "cool" or "normal" and that my toys sort of took on identities of their own.

But weird kid or not, Addy's story made me reflect on my own identity.

I wonder what dolls/toys are doing that these days.  I hope inside all that pink and purple packaging, something is still stretching young girls' minds.  Tempting them to think deeper.  Broadening the ideas of what it means to be strong.

I also hope I have the right words to talk about race and identity with my boys when they're old enough to feel these emotions too, regardless of what random moment triggers them.

Sliding in Southeast

Last weekend was a big one here in DC.  You know why?

You're so smart!  Exactly!  PDG tried out the slide for the first time.

Oh, right, and inauguration :)

I know I could've attended the inauguration, and that weather was actually great.  I guess, one day, maybe I might regret it when I tell my grandchildren that I lived in DC when the first black president got inaugurated for the second time and instead I stayed home and played with their daddy and worked on a video of all my favorite clips of his first year for his upcoming birthday.

Probably not.

But the Sunday before all the excitement on the mall, we did venture close to the capitol and even took a stroll through southeast.  Well, the part of southeast that is "up and coming" or whatever, and just as full of hipsters, strollers and trendy restaurants as any other gentrifying neighborhood.

After a brunch with some Seattlites here to celebrate our/their friend Trashles' (seriously, that's her nickname, given with equal parts love and teasing) birthday and the presidential events, we found ourselves meandering into a cute little park.

PDG's previous park experiences have mostly just had him in his stroller watching the big kids play.  This time, though, my boys decided to be daring.

PDG loved the slide, so we did it a bunch of times.  The little tunnel that you can crawl through?  Not so much. That was a disaster.  A wailing, screaming disaster.

Maybe next time.  And by next time, I mean not until the weather decides to come back above freezing again.  This cold snap has been intense!

Baby Jail

The time has come for PDG to go to jail.  Baby Jail.  (Please let this be the only jail cell my precious PDG ever enters).

What is it, you ask.  Well, it's this little area, pictured below, where he can safely maneuver without fear of ingesting something choke-hazardly or having any heavy objects topple onto him.

Now, this wouldn't be such a necessity if a) that TV were already secured like it needs to be, b) I didn't personally know a family whose daughter is physically and mentally handicapped as a result of a television falling on her and c) I were a better mom.

Ok, I'll cut myself some slack there.  But, you know, I can't be everywhere at once.  I want PDG to explore and learn without me following around always saying "no" or "not that toy" or "where did you find that."  And sometimes I need to get things done in rooms that aren't fully safe for him.

There are enough horror stories out there of accidents that happen when you don't expect, or in the quick minute you turn to answer the door/check the stove/put away some laundry that I needed a solution.

Now, since the TV issue is the biggest and most likely culprit of an accident, we have a solution on its way that can be anchored down.  But even so, sometimes a mama wants to go to the bathroom and a PDG wants to come along.  This way everyone wins.

Oh, and turns out, PDG really likes independent play.  I was just out of sight for a while this morning doing some chores (yeah, now I'm that mom that does chores on a snow day instead of endless marathons of teen drama tv shows) and PDG didn't make a peep to say he missed me.  Just that perfect semi-toothed grin when I walked back around the corner and said "Mommy's here!"

PS - thanks Miss L for the baby gates, Spot book and Corey Combine that are all in heavy rotation around here.  The hand-me-downs are always the faves with PDG

Alphabet Love

Some days life is hard.

Some days you wake up and think, man, I feel like I could sleep another eight hours and still might be tired.

Some days you want seven extra hands and three extra brains to conquer your to do list.

And then some days you wake up, after your sweet husband stayed up the night before watching football, and find an adorable new use for that alphabet mat you bought your son.

Those days, or at least those moments, are the very best kind around.

Corey Combine

What is it about trucks that little boys love?  Is it in their DNA?

The picture above is of PDG and Corey Combine.  Corey Combine is both a John Deere tractor AND a book.  The book inside tells the riveting tale how he must collect all the corn before the first snow and relies on the help of Johnny Tractor.  Until recently I had no idea that combines existed, let alone what a crucial harvesting role they play.

Corey Combine was given to us by a good friend and we pulled it out a few weeks ago to give it a shot thinking it might help encourage PDG to roll more.  Oh man does he lovelovelove Corey Combine.

He loves to spin its wheels.  He loves to eat its pages.  He loves to drool on the cartoon-like face.  And boy does he love to watch Mama roll it forward and backwards making the appropriate "vroom vroom" and "beep beep" sound effects.

Oh babies, how I love them and their easily entertained selves.  You know, when they aren't screaming and all

Swinging Back

In desperate need of laundry and grandparent spoiling, PDG and I recently took a little trip to the beautiful Shenandoah Valley.  It was relaxing and pleasant, and as usual, led to a new discovery of an old treasure.

Mama H is really good at holding onto things.  Perhaps it's the fact that my parents have lived in their home since the 70's (unlike J-Man and I who have no idea what laying down roots is supposed to mean) so they haven't had to purge on a yearly basis.

This particular visit led to two things - the swing and the food grinder.  The swing above was bought back in the 80s for yours truly, and Big Sis had a bout of nostalgia remembering pushing me in this exact same spot. PDG seemed to love it.  You know, until he didn't.  But that's how things go with him.

The food grinder was also pretty amazing.  Well before baby bullets Mama H apparently just took that around and whatever she planned on eating she would also grind some up for us babies.  It sounded like a cheaper solution than baby food without the choking fears of baby led weaning.

All in all a nice trip home.  Plus, who doesn't love laundry that's been hung outside to dry?

Toy Takeover

While I know that in a few short weeks I will be back to working full time, wearing clothes not spotted with spit-up, and consistently interacting with more than one adult per day, I'm not there yet.  In fact, sometimes I feel like my home is already a day care center.

I'm not sure when it happened.  I guess bit by bit.

First was the swing.  Much, much needed.  But it's big and quickly became the focal point of the living room,  perhaps signifying how sleep would become the focus of at least half of my adult conversations these past months.

As PDG learned to bat his arms, the activity mats and bouncy seat crept their way into our main areas.

Next the bumbo found its way to the kitchen table.

The jumperoo.  The stroller.  Each in their own time.

Until finally, this past week, we gave in and got a full on play mat.  There is no question.  A baby lives here.  His parents might too, but for sure, hands down, there is a baby all up in this piece.

Oh well.  I never was much on decor anyway, at least.