Tradition!

For three glorious years in a row, we have had a family tradition over the holidays, it's one we try NOT to share with anyone. Each year, we have thoughts of doing other things--caroling, acting out the Nativity, getting together with family and friends, eating good food--but then this ONE tradition takes over and those things have to wait. But this tradition does help us get a head-start on slimming down. It also helps us spend time as family. And it certainly helps us serve one another.

What IS this fabulous tradition? We share the flu. The puking kind. H1N1 this year??? Who knows. We were too busy washing the tan sofa cover (and the pillow, and the blanket, and the carpet) that had grape juice (not the white kind either) on it . . . that didn't come from a cup, if you get what I mean :) We are grateful no one was puking on Christmas Day and that it was short-lived. We are all actually pretty wimpy when it comes to being anything other than healthy, so we really have nothing to complain about (though you can bet we did!).

Somehow Austria didn't get it (yet) . . . maybe she doesn't like our tradition? (I think she is praying to heaven wearing her new best dress, made for her by her Aunt Sue Ann, in this next picture that she will escape being part of this crazy tradition:)

Merry Christmas everyone--no matter how you celebrate it!

Can You Guess Where We Have Been?

Me: Anya who is your favorite Princess?

Anya: Sleeping Cutie.

Anya: I want to go to Sleeping Cutie's castle now. (After watching Cinderella's light up with Christmas lights.)

Anya in the bathtub: I am Shamu! (As she proceeds to do some interesting jumps and tricks that probably aren't safe in a bathtub . . .)

Anya to Austria: We are almost to Mylando!

Belle: "And what is your name?"

Anya: (no answer, a little shy.)

Belle: "You have a cute monkey on your shirt. What is your name?"

Anya: "Georgie!" (thinking she was asking what the monkey's name was)

Belle:" Georgie!" (pretending she was so happy Anya's name was Georgie)

Me: "Her name is not Georgie."

Belle to Anya: "What is your name?"

Anya: "Daisy."

Belle: "Daisy!" (again pretending it is such a lovely name, like Georgie)

Me: "No, it's not Daisy."

Belle is not frustrated and maintains her princess cool: "What is it?"

Anya: "Belle!"

Belle: "Belle! The same as mine!" (Why is she STILL believing this child . . . )

Me: "No, her name is Anya."

Belle: "Anya! And what is your little sister's name, Anya?"

Anya: "Mickey."

Runaways

A complete investigation is still underway, but a few clues are helping to find the cause of the runaway toddler and runaway cart--two separate, but related cases:

1. The HUGE, uncontrollable "kid" cart at the grocery store.

2. The downward slopping parking lot.

3. Being in the middle of reading a parenting book, title: Screamfree Parenting, The Revolutionary Approach to Raising Your Kids by Keeping Your Cool.

4. Doing 3 errands in one morning.

5. Not noticing that lunch time was approaching.

6. The lady who watched the WHOLE thing, I guess it was just too good to actually HELP me.

Anya did not want to leave the grocery store. Part of the problem was we saw our friends and they were going inside as were we leaving and she wanted to go in as well. It was the last straw for her.

Austria didn't want to ride in the cart by this point. So there I was chasing Anya around the parking lot while holding Austria and trying to keep track of our "kid" cart--which was a huge green car thing. Anya is screaming that she wants to go back inside. Seriously, it ties as one of her worst tantrums. It wouldn't be so bad, but I really can't let Anya run away from me in a parking lot, not the safest thing. So I did manage to get the cart wedged between the cart loading area and my car. Though it kept rolling this way and that. Then I ran after Anya again. One of the employees came to gather the carts. She saw ours was still full, saw my screaming child, saw my open trunk, and said, "I'll come back later." I should have just asked her to please put my groceries in the trunk.

I finally had to carry Anya by force to the car. I put her in and closed the door. But she has recently learned to open doors. So out she went. I still had Austria in my arms. So, I go to get her again. Unwillingly. Yes, I am the mom carrying a screaming toddler through the parking lot.

I manage to get her locked in her side of the car and then I strap Austria in, who begins to cry. I take a breath and go to our cart to unload it. But the cart is gone. I look around a bit, it can't be far. I look in a normal 5 foot radius, then expand to 10, then realize the parking lot slopes and see it has rolled 100 feet away into a car! I glance at the middle-aged lady parked behind me who has enjoyed front-row tickets to the entire show in the luxury of her car. I guess she was in shock or liking it so much she didn't think to tell me that my cart rolled right past her hood and down the parking lot.

I ran to get the cart. I looked at the poor car it hit. It didn't have any marks, that I could tell, it was an older car. I did feel bad. I didn't take the time to write a note or anything, and who knows if the owner would have believed my story. After all this car was parked very far away (maybe to avoid all those door dings:), where no one would park unless there was a chance of snow--the kind of storm that makes everyone in Georgia rushes to get their 3 week supply of French Toast (eggs, milk, bread).

I learned many lessons today. If you go to Publix: Where Shopping is a Pleasure, be sure the conditions are favorable or it might not be so pleasant . . .

Rockin' Out... side.

We spent a part of our Thanksgiving Day recovering from being ill and rockin' out(side).

Due to the sickness, the girls have been spending a little too much time "cooped" up inside and so, as expected, they created a bird's nest as soon as they were set free outside.

Austria, our foreman, gave Anya and I the orders while holding an intimidating black metal bar. With a face like this, she commands, and we obey.

Here, our foreman caught me taking a picture and quickly pointed it out to me! Get back to work!

Playground Lessons

Lessons I've learned at the playground:

1. Austria is not as careful and cautious as someone else was at this age (no name mentioned, I'm not supposed to compare you know who with Austria). Our little easy-going, even-tempered girl becomes an animal when she sees the playground!

2. Austria is not even as careful and cautious as Anya is now.

3. Austria thinks she is physically the age of an 8 year old.

4. Austria is not afraid of heights.

5. Austria will go on the steep/long slide that Anya will not go on.

6. Austria will go on the steep/long slide head first. Without warning, without help. (I'm sorry I forgot to turn the camera the right way, and pardon the weird laugh, it's just a nervous mother--not me of course, probably someone else.)

7. Austria will climb to the top of the playground as fast as she can.

8. I am glad I'm short, so I can follow her around.

9. Austria will sit in the swing for longer than anyone wants to push her.

10. Always bring first aid items to the playground.

11. Always keep Austria's health insurance card in my pocket and note the best route to the ER.

Coming Clean

Due to slightly cool weather/rain and illness, we have been staying at home a lot this week. For some reason, Anya--not Austria--has been emptying the bookshelf and dragging out the pots and pans and tupperware. I feel like I'm wading knee-deep in toys and kitchen items. And a little part of me thinks NO ONE else ever has THIS messy of a house. Right?

Well, now you know we are that kind of household--messy. These pictures are from different days. Anya knows she has to clean it all up, but she doesn't seem to mind. Perhaps it is all part of her plan to procrastinate bedtime as long as possible. I don't really care too much, just make sure you wear some hip-boots when you drop by.

Being inside has also prompted other activities in an effort not to have the PBS schedule of times/shows memorized, including pretending it is Halloween (Anya is a pink ghost), and drawing with markers all over our shirts (which is a much better activity than drawing all over the couch . . .)

It's Still Summer

Anya thinks we live in the land of perpetual summer. And I must admit, last week's weather did not feel like November :) However, it is getting chilly in the mornings. Anya is quite put out that she now has to wear shoes AND socks. And pants? What are those? Where are her shorts?!? Fortunately, both girls still need their sunglasses most days . . .

(Young Bono)

Parenting Moment #2

It's that time of year again where one pseudo-neutralizes all the philanthropic activities during this most charitable season of the year with the writing of one's Christmas list. At least I did.

However, this year I have realized that "parenting" itself has infiltrated this rather selfish and worldly tradition. I found that items are either crossed off because I'm a parent, or added because I'm parent.

It is no longer a list of what I want. It is the Christmas list of a parent.

For instance, it includes three different types of stain remover, because no one product can get all of that out.

It includes toys that our two children will never want to play with at the same time.

It includes items such as disposable ties, since one wearing (before destruction) is all I get anyway.

It includes having a reason to set the alarm clock, because some little person might not wake you up three hours before you have to get ready for work.

It includes food that the children never complain of and never get sick of and is ready instantly all the time wherever you are.

It includes books with pages that resist any type of ink, crayon or marker.

It includes a suit that doesn't change color when slobber covers the shoulder.

It includes anything that won't be broken by January 1st.

It includes the older daughter changing all the diapers of the younger daughter. (Okay, this last one may be a little out there, but Christmas is a time for miracles!)

But even if I get nothing on my list, the little hugs and kisses will more than make up for that and make it my most wonderful Christmas so far!

Happy Holidays!

(Hey, I'm American now. I can start as soon as Halloween is over...)

We Have a Winner!!!

Scott Salmon will be receiving some very fine candy for his correct guess. We did indeed dress up as monopoles (which don't exist in nature) for Halloween, but together we make a magnet (Yes, we are attracted to each other... bud-um-tsh!)

The two second place runner-ups (Jay and Diane) will share a tootsie roll.

Halloween Hangover

Anya over-dosed on Halloween activities this last weekend to the point of opting to go to bed over trick or treating on Halloween night.

Leftover trick or treat candy for those who can correctly guess John and my costume (without cheating and looking it up . . . )

UPDATE SINCE FIRST THREE COMMENTS (which are fabulous guesses btw): Clues--John thought of this, the colors we are wearing are significant, and apart--we can't exist.

Embarrassing Observations of a Two-Year Old

OBSERVATION ONE:

Anya: "Mommy, he has a baby in his tummy!"

I think to myself, not a big deal, she sometimes says that about herself, about me, about anyone really. Then I look around to see who she is talking about. Great, she is talking about a man, who fortunately is too far away to hear anything (I think, I hope!), but who does indeed have a pot-belly.

I just ignore her, but that doesn't work with Anya. She just repeats it until I acknowledge her.

Me: "No, he doesn't have a baby in his tummy."

Anya: "Well, then what is in there?"

Me: "Uh, that is just the way his stomach is . . . see that tree over there? Is it turning red?"

OBSERVATION TWO:

Anya in the grocery store: "He has a ponytail Mommy!"

I try the distraction method, asking her which bananas she wants. I guess I forgot that doesn't work, she has to be heard! This time the man is in hearing range. She is mostly just stating it is an observation, since in her world, she doesn't really have any male friends with ponytails. I am just hoping he takes no offense :)

OBSERVATION THREE:

We are walking outside, Austria is in the stroller, Anya is helping me push it. She sees two Indian women approaching and stops. She looks at them and points, "Mommy they have owies on their heads!" They just wave, so maybe they didn't hear her? They move on, as do we and I try to explain to her that they like to wear a red dot of makeup between their eyes . . . but I can't remember what it is called or why they do it (these women were older), so I tell her we'll look it up when we get home.

Boston Top Ten

Anya and Austria's Top Ten To Do list for Boston is a little different than what you will find in travel books and on websites. Here they are, randomized by John's secret formula in excel:

1. Make sure you wake up all 17 people, from 3 different time zones at 6 am. (No photo of this, for obvious reasons.)

2. Be with Daddy, because he didn't have to go to work/school!

3. Play with leaves.

4. Walk around with your new hat over your eyes.
5. Watch Jeff do interesting things (and try harder than anyone to get a hug out of Anya).

6. Play with grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles.

7. Play with former Atlantan's and borrow all their stuff.

8. Smell the flowers at the temple (could also be, suck pacifier constantly).

9. Smell the flowers at John Adams' home.
10. Play at a park.


Boston was a blast--wish we could have stayed longer! But like Anya said, "Boston is cold, at our house it is warm."

Words from our Wisest

Me: "It's time to kick the paci, Anya."

Anya: "That's not a good idea."

Anya after whining a lot: "It's crying day."

Anya when she needs something to eat: "I'm kind of starving."

Anya: "Mommy?"

Me: "Yes darling?"

Anya: "I'm not darling! I'm Anya!"

Anya: "No?!? What does that mean?"

Anya: "But I WANT to be naughties!"

Anya to John: "Do funny things so I can laugh."

At the grocery store, Anya is holding my list. Anya: "Hmmm. What else do we need?"

Me: "What else does the list say? Milk?"

Anya: "No, it says Ice Cream!"

After handing her something she requested she tells me: "Thank you sweetheart."

When I ask her to do something, she exhibits evidence she reads her scriptures (at least until 1 Nephi 3): "I will do."

Anya likes to watch TV while she sits on her potty. However, I think we need to establish a new habit, like book reading. One night at the table we were talking about Curious George. Anya: "PBS kids!" John starts laughing and says, "PBS kids?!" To which Anya replies, "Dot org". (For you non-TV watchers between shows they have a commercial of sorts advertising PBS kids and the website.)

Anya thinks she can get away with anything once. The if-you-do-it-one-more-time and there will be some kind of punishment/removal of a priviledge technique doesn't work for Anya. She is constantly doing things she knows are not right and then saying: "If I do it one more time you will take it away/move me/etc?"

After watching one of those self-propelled toy cars zip away after she winds it up, Anya asks me, "How does that little car go by itself?"

Caffie

In August we had a visitor! We were beside ourselves with joy.

Cathy--or Caffie, as Anya called her (among other things, Little Caf, etc)--made the trek by plane AND car to the deep South. We hope she will come back. She watched our kids while we went on dates, packed a one-year old up Stone Mountain, sat in the back-seat and entertained our girls on long drives, washed the dishes and occupied our children. She even talked to John one night when he went off on a topic, and you know how he can go off. I tired of the conversation WAY before she did. Now, I know I will soon be flooded with comments on how YOU can get Cathy to visit you . . .