…Errr…Caleb got a new toy. I’ve been looking and different types of marble runs for a few months now. After a payment fiasco on eBay, I ended up with a $10 eBay gift certificate from a wonderful seller for my troubles (filing an item not received claim to get my money back and then paying again). I found a 37 piece block and marble set (the exact brand I wanted) for $22, so I only ended up paying $12. It came in the mail today. To say it has been a hit has would be an understatement. We got our $12 worth today. We’ve done nothing else all day long! We went to Michael’s and picked up a bag of 60 marbles (there were only two included). I think I have had just as much fun today as he has! I’m a little concerned about the choking hazard thing, so it is something he’ll have to be watched closely with for a while, but an additional set is definitely on the birthday list. The best part…they are made in the good ole U. S. of A.  Oh and it has no batteries.  Or lead.  Or arsenic.  There’s the creativity aspect.  And the educational aspect.  Yeah I’m still stressing about this whole China thing.

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Caleb has been playing Wonder Pets in the tub lately. For those readers who aren’t stuck in educational cartoon hell, the Wonder Pets is a show about three classroom pets, a duck, a turtle and a guinea pig who work together to save an animal who is in trouble. The little duckling always says “Dis is serwious.” He has a rubber duckey (which supposedly only contains PVC instead of mercury, lead and arsenic), a turtle and a dog on a surf board who could be a guinea pig. Sometimes, instead of saving animals, they save monster trucks and cars though.

I’m trying to bathe here, I’d really prefer you didn’t take pictures…

But I can tell you’re not going to listen…

So I may as well give you a smile and maybe you’ll go away.

But I don’t have to be happy about it.

DING! He’s done!

Why I love this picture: His widdle feet look so tiny. Even though they are not so tiny anymore. They’re still cute though!

Look at my hands!

I look like a prune.

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No matter how many times you swing,

or how long you swing,

or how high you swing,

as long as someone is there to push you,

it just never loses its magic…

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Taken Tuesday, posted Wednesday that is.  Believe it or not, for once, I do know what day it is. 

Despite the fact that it wasn’t really sunny, he was determined that he needed sunglasses.

I want to name him Garfield. Doesn’t he look like a Garfield?

If laziness were a job, I would be CEO by now.

He never stops running!

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Oooo we do! That’s us, right here!

My less than happy test subject in the new Graco Nautilus. Now a candidate for the future carseat running.

Since it is a forward facing only carseat, the straps would need to be moved up a slot, but he appears to have a good bit of growing room. This seat becomes a belt positioning booster, and then a backless booster. I am a little concerned that he might unbuckle it himself though, as the buckle pushes down instead of in (of course he has his hands in front of it in both pictures).

Please note, the chest clip should be a little higher, at armpit level.

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I am a knight of the round table. And I don’t mean the one in Camelot either. I spend countless hours each week sitting at our kitchen table negotiating the terms of a single bite of food. In the past few days, Caleb has taken to a new phrase. “I don’t wike that. Blegh.” I don’t wike cheese. Blegh. I don’t wike bananas. Blegh. I don’t wike brownies. Blegh. I may have even chuckled to myself the first time he said it. But by seventh time, nobody was laughing. By the twenty third, I was biting my tongue, and by the one hundred and twelfth, well….let’s just say I was experiencing a rise in blood pressure.

I was having a lazy day today. I didn’t eat breakfast, and I got very hungry very fast at lunchtime. I could feel my blood sugar dropping, so I grabbed the first thing I saw…sugary cereal. Hey we all have our moments. I fixed us each a bowl of cereal for lunch. After complying with all of the adult wishes…”I need some milk in dare. I need a spoon pwease. Sit me up to da table. etc etc.” I plopped down and inhaled my lunch. After about four bites, he pushed his bowl toward the center of the table. “I’m all done. Tink I can just dwink my milk now.” TINK again buddy. I set his milk at the middle of the table and calmly explained (for the 900th time) that he would need to eat something in addition to drinking milk.  You have to eat to be healthy, food gives you energy, yada, yada.  We have two laws of the land regarding our round table. 1. All parties must remain at the table until everyone has finished eating. 2. If you don’t eat your dinner, you may have water in between, and we’ll try again next meal (because he will drink a meal up in a heartbeat asking for cup after cup of milk).  That being said, you would not BELIEVE the food I throw away. We’re talking third world nation quantities. You know what they say about payback….  I wasn’t exactly the easiest child to get along with at the table.  My mom fed me bananas like it was her sole purpose for existing on this planet.  My friend, who shall remain nameless, and I buried our bananas under the deck one day.  I think my mom watched us out the window.  I became a pro at hiding broccoli in the trashcan.  Dumping just the right small amount on top and putting a few other pieces down empty paper towel rolls and under napkins.

At this point, I’m faced with very little choice.  If he won’t eat em…hide em.  I bought the Deceptively Delicious cookbook.  I haven’t tried any of the recipes yet.  I need to get to it, because the situation is getting worse by the minute.  It’s like he eats less every day.

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…he’ll cherish them one day and wish for them again.

I was cleaning Caleb up from breakfast this morning. I gave him Charley and he asked for his paci. “It is breakfast time, you’ll get pappy before naptime,” I said.

“Naptime? I don’t need naptime,” he replied. I wish I could convey his tone of voice. As if suggesting, naptime is for the weak, and he, the child who just doesn’t need as much sleep as other children, certainly doesn’t need a naptime. How dare I suggest such an insulting thing. This kid doesn’t go to sleep until 10:30-11 most nights. He’s in bed by 10 or a little earlier, but he fights sleep like the plague. He’s up, and well rested might I add, by 7:30 to 8:30. He nearly killed me before he turned two. I’m not sure if anyone has ever actually died from lack of sleep, but there were many nights that I thought surely I would. Nights I cried from exhaustion. But he persevered. He took on the “Cry It Out” theory like it was the Mount Everest Challenge. I remember one night when he was about 8 months old. I went to bed about 12 after nursing him. He was back up at 12:45. I wanted to weep, but I decided to wash dishes instead and see how long he’d last. I set a timer and went in every five or ten minutes to check on him and try to calm him. Yes, I had a lot of dishes and no dishwasher then. At 3am, I fed him again. At 6am, he was declared the winner. He wakes up bright eyed and bushy tailed every morning and he doesn’t stop going until he goes back to sleep. See Exhibit A: 15 minutes before bed.

Don’t you just wish you could lasso my energy? I could power lower Manhattan for a week!

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A feat of K’nex engineering.

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A sad, sad sight. Kind of gross for some reason too.

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