Sunday, December 18, 2011

squeaky clean

[whenever i hear the phrase "squeaky clean", regina spektor's "consequence of sounds" pops into my head.  it's probably going to be there the rest of the night.  great.]

the infamous tesla glare.  he does it on command.

Tesla has been in the 'helpful stage' for quite a while.  I find it to be incredibly endearing, if not terribly convenient.  His two favorite things to help me with are laundry and cooking (which includes "washing the dishes", or, more accurately, splashing dirty water everywhere as he pours it from measuring cup to measuring cup when my back is turned).  

He often tries to help me when I'm not watching, so I'll turn around from the stove to find him standing on a chair, attempting to chop vegetables (PUT THE KNIFE DOWN, SON).  Or I'll turn from the counter where I'm prepping veggies to find him on a chair in front of the stove, vigorously stirring a pan of sauteed onions (half of which are now on the stovetop or the floor).  But I usually catch him before he's done any real damage.

He's getting sneaky, though.  Yesterday, I pulled a load of laundry out of the dryer and carried it to the bed to be folded.  A small handful of dryer sheets had worked themselves loose from the pile and I picked them up and chuckled to myself at the evidence of my well-intentioned little assistant.  I folded two shirts and uncovered three more dryer sheets.  A pair of pants yielded another two.  And so on.  I called Silas into the bedroom to see the growing pile I was amassing.  It was then that I noticed the grimy residue that coated all of the freshly washed clothes.
Apparently Tesla had taken it upon himself to grace that particular load of laundry with approximately FIFTY DRYER SHEETS.  

I'm not kidding.

I don't know when or how he did it, but over half of the box made it in there.  At least the clothes smelled extra fresh.

He'll make a good housewife someday.  

Saturday, December 17, 2011

mini-man antics

Nothing too exciting is happening around these here parts.

The menfolk are up to their usual shenanigans.

There's a pair of siblings, a 6 year-old named Isaac and his 3 year-old sister Hera, that likes to come over [every day] and knock [overandoverandover] on the door to see if the boys can play.

Here's a typical afternoon.

Isaac:  *knockknockknockknockknock*

Me:  ignore.

Isaac:   *knockknockknock*  *DING DONG*

Me: put down whatever i'm doing at the moment and shuffle to the door.  open it a crack.  Hey, Isaac.

Isaac:  Can they play right now?

Me:  No, they're napping right now.

Isaac:  No they're not.  They're right there.

I open the door and peek around to find this.

Me:  ....

Hera:  So can they play now?

Me:  Um, no.  It's still naptime for another half hour.  Come back after 4.

I'm so mean.

But hey.  Naptime is sacred.  I treasure it.  There is no way in heck I am going to cut it short.  I love my boys, but I also prize my alone time.

I'm sure you understand why.

Friday, December 16, 2011

belated birthdays

Tesla turned 2.

and silas finished his first quarter of podiatry school!

We made him a sign.

Desmond turned 1.

We made him cupcakes.

The boys are big fans of the candle-blowing ritual.  After Tesla figured out what to do, he had us re-light his cupcake candle 4 or 5 times so he could blow it out before we called time and made him eat it.

They got bikes/trikes for their respective birthdays.  They like them very much.

hell's angels.

Oh, you noticed the pacifier (and the smoothie on T's face)?  Fine.  So, as you may know, neither of the boys had much of an affinity for pacifiers in their youth.  However, one day when he was around 19/20 months old, Tesla found a pacifier and decided it was his new best friend.  It seemed fairly harmless and I found his sudden attachment rather endearing (not to mention convenient), so the paci stayed.  For a while.

A few months ago, we I decided to ditch the pacis.  And after much weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth, Tesla accepted his bleak fate.  

Fast-forward to a few weeks ago.  Desmond has begun sucking on his fingers.  His poor hand is all red and chapped, so in a fit of genius I decide to go buy a couple more pacifiers.  I would rather have him hooked on a pacifier (which can easily be thrown away) than his fingers (which, barring invasive and costly surgery, cannot be removed).  

However, while Desmond (unfortunately) remains indifferent to pacifiers, Tesla (unfortunately) does not.  So it's back.  For a while. 

At least until we come back from South Dakota in January.  Having a pacifier-friendly baby is a mighty convenient thing for an airplane flight.