Training and traditions

Both Oliver and Henni are in training.  Given their moves I believe they are training for one or all of the following (they have not let me in on their exact plan as of yet): a professional rugby career, professional football career, to be one of the things football players run into during practice (Henni is really excelling at this one), or perhaps a stint in professional wrestling.  It is impossible to leave the two of them alone together, even for a second, as chaos, screams, and other pleasantries ensue.  I'd like to say their antics are confined to the home and to each other; however, I would be lying.  The past couple days when I've picked Oliver up from school I have been told he has been "physical."  Wonderful.  And Miss. Henni - well, she took down a two year old at the playground so as to run off with the girl's doll stroller (after she threw the girl's doll to the ground and placed Bulldozer in the stroller).  And she was quite pushy the other day at the science museum - she even attempted to push several adults out of the way.

Given the level of attentiveness needed around these two, our Thanksgiving weekend was great break.  Thanksgiving day we spent with 27 of our family members - growing up I always looked forward to Thanksgiving as I got to spent time with my older cousins (as in follow them around and around and beg them to play with me for hours upon end (which, happily, they did)).  This Thanksgiving it was so much fun to watch the growing brood interact and watch Oliver and Henni spent time with their cousins (well, second cousins - at least that is what I think it is). 

In Maine, Oliver helped my parents get their Christmas tree.  I had thought we'd get our tree as well; however, Oliver was firm that we "always" get our Christmas tree at Tendercrop and therefore needed to wait.  It is funny because last year we drove for miles and miles looking for an open cut your own place and wasn't able to find one.  Frustrated we went to Tendercrop with the expectation (Davis' and mine) that we'd be out with a saw this year...but alas, we have started our own tradition.  So this weekend we will go to Tendercrop and we'll embrace our very own tree tradition.

Five things

Oliver came home from school Monday with a list of five things for which he was thankful.  They were:

1. Mommy giving me kisses and hugs
2. Daddy
3. Playing with Jonah 
4. Henni
5. My stuffed animals (specifically Nemo)

I wish I had been a fly on the wall while he and his teacher wrote the list.  I wonder if he was coaxed or coached or if he developed the list by himself.  I love to believe (and so I will) that he came up with this list himself.  The list not only gives me insight into his loves and what he is thinking about, but also reminds me that he is three.  Oliver can do so much now, we can have amazing conversations, and Henni is the baby - so often times I think I think of him as Oliver than he is.

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, my five things for which I am thankful:

1. My family; my two wonderful children and Davis and our extended families. 
   
2. My friends; old and new.
   
3. Health. 
   
4. Although there are days I would deny this, I really am thankful that I am able to be at home with Henni and Oliver.  Yes we (literally) pull each others hair out sometimes, but we also have a lot of fun and I wouldn't trade what we have right now for anything.
5. Davis.  We never spend more than a couple hours in the same bed, there are days we see each other for only a couple (sleep deprived) hours (and therefore do not remember our conversation), but it doesn't matter.  We trade the kids back and forth through the night in an attempt to give each other a bit of sleep, we encourage each other to do what we love (and love what we do), we understand each other, and we can ask each other (again and again) if we'd prefer to be werewolves or vampires.  We have fun together.

Let's talk

This morning Henni woke up at 3:45. While I have no memory of the last time I napped I was seriously considering taking a nap with Henni while Oliver was at school, so when we arrived at school this morning to the announcement that the school was closed due to a gas leak I froze...then popped the kids in the car and headed to the science museum.  Since Henni had been up for 5 hours she was asleep before we left the school's parking lot.  With Henni asleep top 40 was not a requirement.  I gave Oliver the option - talk or music - he chose talk.  Moments into our conversation my eyes felt a bit less sandy, I felt a bit less bleary, and I found myself driving slowly so that Oliver could continue just talking - something we are not able to do much of the time (do to always needing to be on the go, needing to build train tracks, a little sister who desires lots of attention (especially when Oliver wants attention)...).

Our conversation began with global warming - a topic which Oliver brought up.  Not long into our talk he said - "Wait, wait!  So here we are talking about reduce, reuse and recycle - right?" 

Our conversation then moved on to math.  Yes, math.  Oliver said, "Mommy, what I would like to talk about is math."  Immediately I start swearing in my head, I curse Davis, I envision years of math and I, again, curse Davis and the fact that he does math problems at night (just for fun - seriously, what kind of example is that for a child?!).  Oliver continues, "So there are 2 trains..."  I tune out - he's three and he sounds like a cursed SAT question!!  I tune in again... "So that makes 4.  Mommy, does my math problem make sense?"  Oh dear god, I need a math class.

We need more Oliver and mommy time.  We need to talk more.  I love my little Rocket.

Oliver's chosen Science Museum outfit

Oliver and one of the rockets he has made as of late

Mud

Although I am constantly doing laundry, I am not that great at it.  Despite my best efforts my whites are gray, my blacks are gray and my colors...gray.   After folding the five billionth load the other night and noting the state of our clothes I posted a question on the forum of the mother's club to which I belong - I asked for suggestions on how to be a successful laundress and also how to deal with pink (Is it a light? A dark? A load of its own?...).

The next morning I awoke to a beautiful day - one of those specular fall days that is warm and sunny (did I mention the previous day there had been so much rain people had considered starting to build arks) and an inbox full of suggestions on how to tackle laundry and specifically how to deal with pink.  Before taking on the never ending pile of clothes I decided to take the kids to the playground where we, well, where we played.

I am scooping a combination of mulch and sand out of Henni's mouth when I hear Oliver call to me that he is stuck in the mud.  Thinking he is just looking for a bit more of my attention I amble up to him.  Once there I assess the situation - the kid is seriously stuck in the mud.  I tug and pull and pull and tug and finally we pop backwards - sans shoes.  Laughing so hard I am thinking I may wet my pants (because at this time I am thinking back to a post Kate wrote about the cleanliness of her children) (mind you Henni is trying to get her self stuck and trying to consume another 12 handfuls of sand while I am trying to sort out Rocket), I start digging trying to locate his shoes.  I finally find them and scoop out the mud so his feet will fit into the shoes.  Fast forward 5 minutes... "Mommy, I am stuck in the mud!"  Repeat previous scenario.  Fast forward five minutes..."Mommy, I am stuck in the mud!"  Repeat previous scenario. About and hour later we leave the playground.  Both kids get stripped to their diapers so that their car seats are usable (ever again), yet somehow it looks as though a mud wresting tournament took place in my car.  We get home and Davis looks at the kids, tries to identify the mass of items I bring in (shoes and clothes so caked in mud they are unidentifiable as such) and shakes his head (remember previous post where Davis has become annoyingly clean).  I start laundry and then hit the mom's club forum and decide to be more specific regarding the laundry issue - surely another mom has filthy children.  The next morning I awake to dull colored clothing and an empty inbox.  I am going with no one wants to fess up to dirty kids.

Tide, Arm and Hammer, Mrs. Meyers, Method...anyone want to use my house as a test house?

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One

Henni is officially one. 

One year ago today I had finagled my way out of the hospital a day early so that Henni and I could get home to Oliver and Davis.  Little Henni and I arrived home to a wonderful birth day dinner and brownies, complete with candles, made for us by Oliver (and my mom).  (As I side note, every time we eat brownies Oliver announces: "Mommy, remember when I made you brownies after your water broke and you had Henni?".) And, just like that we were four.

But back to one.  The first year of life is just incredible.  To think of all she had accomplished, all the has learned and how much she has grown over this past year... Henni is no longer an adorable snugly newborn, she is now a little girl.  She walks with me to drop off and pick up Oliver at school, she has (lots of) opinions, she dances, climbs, will screech with joy at the sight of a playground, and she loves throwing herself down a slide.  She loves the bath (or baf as she calls it), adores her daddy and her brother, and she never leaves home without Bulldozer (Oliver very nicely passed Bulldozer on to Henni).  Henni has recently put her foot down, literally, and refuses to wear shoes that do not have sparkles on them.  She also loves to look at photos - photos of herself, of other people - just photos.  She now has 12 words and, I learned at her appointment yesterday, is 22 pounds and 30 inches. 

Henni and her trusty sidekick

Clutching present, unsure of what Rocket is up to

Eating wrapping paper

Letting Oliver open the presents and play with the presents - playing with and eating the wrapping paper is much more fun

Blowing out her first birthday candle

 Happy first birthday Henni!

Cake

This past weekend we celebrated her almost birthday with my parents.  She wore the dress I wore on my first birthday (although it fit Henni more like a shirt than a dress) and she devoured her cake...

 

I don't want to be strapped in!

Wait, this might be interesting.

Let me try this...

Just another taste...

Is this okay?

Seriously, this is okay?

I am just going to have a bit more...

I might have had a bit too much.

Henni seems to be getting a lot of attention...

A new stroller!

Oliver using my old stroller for Mark.

Fast asleep - note the worm fishing lure (named "Peter") in his left hand.

Still partying

Doing work

So happy

Party rock

We like a good party - and we've been turning most every day into a party as of late.  The party rock lifestyle which we have been embracing is largely due to Miss. Henni who wants her top 40 blasting all the time so that she can dance, dance, and dance a bit more.  Oliver, Davis and I have been warming up to the top 40 and we've been shaking our booty a bit more (and probably a bit more appropriately as we'd previously been doing much of our dancing to the Wurzel's "Combine Harvester").
Last weekend we had a super fun birthday party for Frankie.  Frankie turned one and her mom and dad threw her a big party that included a bouncy house and swimming.  Oliver spent a good two hours in the bouncy house and Henni probably spent a good hour in the house.  While we willingly popped Oliver in the house on our arrival, it took a bit more coaxing from Henni for us to let her in - the house was filled with bigger kids and Henni is well, not quite one.  But after watching Henni repeatedly throw herself at house and repeatedly try to climb into the house herself we decided to give it a go.  I think there were many who thought we were a bit crazy, but Henni thought we were crazy every time we tried to pull her out to give her a break - the little Badger did everything possible to get herself back to bouncing.

Two forks, necessary to maintain the physique

Henni is insistent on feeding herself now - because of this we need to invest in Tyvek suits

When the bouncing was over Henni was literally falling asleep standing up, so I went to try to put her down for a nap.  In a rookie move I walked past the swimming pool - the very pool Oliver was just about to jump in.  Henni suddenly was wide awake and wiggled herself into her suit and got herself into the pool with amazing speed.

As of late we've been breaking out the glow sticks for bath time -- glow sticks glowing, lights out...super fun bath time.  Well, this morning Oliver woke up and said that he dreamed of having a glow stick party.  One where all the kids from the neighborhood come over, "get all crazy like," and then follow a trail of glow sticks to some cookies.  Party on dude.  Tonight we had our little glow stick party and it was great fun.

Unfortunately I wasn't able to capture the glowing glow sticks, but hopefully you get the idea - good times

 A little side note about our party rock lifestyle.  We start partying when we get up which is around the 5:30/6:00 hour and because only the littlest one in our house takes a couple (short) naps we end our days pretty early - as in the wee ones in bed by 6:30 or 7:30 at the latest and Davis and I are out by 10.  While some might argue that these hours are not party hours- I invite those people to join us for a day...we do party, hard.