Honey, I Shrunk The House

When did my house start shrinking? I remember when we first moved in and it seemed almost big. So much empty space, more rooms than we needed, and places to store things. Now I can't open a cupboard or walk up a flight of stair without running into a doll. "Be quiet, my dolls are sleeping in their bed."

"My mistake, I thought that was the china cabinet. Do they need a playhouse? I could just move the TV out on the lawn. Calm down, I was just joking."

It doesn't seem to matter what we do either. We have toy boxes and rubber made containers for their toys. All of which seem to be full yet the house is still one big toy obstacle course. I'm convinced the toys are reproducing somehow. I swear I've heard cheesy porno music coming from the toy boxes. I also believe they can walk or at the very least crawl. The kids can't possibly be the ones putting toys directly in the paths I most often take at night, can they? Sitting in their bed and asking me to get them a drink in the middle of the night and then waiting anxiously for the inevitable crash to follow. I stub my toe on a doll and stumble down the stairs as I hear laughter coming from her room. "I got you daddy. That was a good one."

"Yeah, you got me. See how funny you find it when I come back with your drink and a Halloween mask on."

It's not just the storage though. I got home from work last night to find my bed full. I had to try and maneuver my way into a spot among the two kids and my wife. After we all staked out our spots on the king size bed there was no room left for the dog. He chose to sleep in the closet rather than fight for some space. I think he might actually have been the smart one of the bunch. We've got three bedrooms, a crib, and four bed set up in our house but the four of us were squeezed into the same bed. The kid parent kid parent setup also made things interesting since the kids don't like having the blanket on them. I, on the other hand, prefer not to freeze my ass off.

When I asked how it came about that everyone was in the same bed I got to hear about the guilt trip that was responsible for it. "I just want someone to cuddle with. Why do I have to sleep in my bed while you cuddle Cameron to sleep?" I would have had no chance against something like that so I couldn't even be upset about her caving in. Actually, the fact she wasn't sleeping in our bed with a new doll means my wife did better than I would have.

At the rate things are going I expect by the end of the week I'll be sleeping in the closet with the dog. Hopefully he'll let me have some blankets.

It's Not Real?

I've never been a big one for watching the evening news. On the other hand, my wife never misses it. Not a big deal since I'm usually working when it's on. So yesterday she sat down to watch it like any other day. The kids cooperated and played in the room with her while she watched. It was a nice relaxing little treat, getting to watch some grown up TV instead of having to entertain the youngsters. Everything was going fine until they did a story about local fella who apparently made a horror movie. I guess they figured it was newsworthy because Robert Englund, the guy who played Freddy Crueger, was in the movie.

So they do their story about the movie, no big deal. The problem was that they showed a scene from the movie in the course of doing the story. I didn't see it but I'm told it was pretty graphic and very creepy. It certainly wasn't the sort of thing you'd expect a TV station to show at 6 in the evening without any sort of warning about the nature of the content. Previously, the only thing I'd see as being at all offensive on that station's evening news was the time the anchor introduced a piece about the increase in childhood obesity by talking about "the rise in the number of fat kids in today's society." I swear those were his exact words. I taped it and laughed my ass off each time I watched it. It makes me think the anchor is some sort of Ron Burgundy type who will read anything they put on the teleprompter. Anyways, my wife was so disturbed by what she saw and the fact they gave no warning that she did something she's never done before. She called the station to complain.

She emailed them first actually and then called. She spoke to some guy there and explained the situation. She mentioned the graphic nature of the images and the fact there'd been now warning. He listened to her concerns and then said the words that made me laugh so very hard when the story was relayed to me minutes later. He actually said "Well you know it's not real, right?"

My wife played the concerned parent card by answering "I know it's not real but my three year old didn't." That was probably the right way to answer but personally when I was told the story my mind began racing with possible alternative replies to his condescension. I figured I'd throw a few out there and see what you think of them.

1. Hold the phone away from her mouth and pretend to yell to the crowd around her. "Calm down, everyone calm down! I've got some good news."

2. "So I'm guessing I am the first person to call your station who wasn't a complete moron."

3. "Originally, I was upset but after talking to you now I'm more impressed you can actually operate a phone."

4. "Can I speak to your supervisor? I have a new complaint now."

5. "Not real? Are you talking about the scene or your entire newscast? Because I make a lot of decisions based on the information you guys give me."

Too bad I can't figure out a way to make a living by being a smartass.

Keep Trying

I need to do a better job of cleaning up around here. As I've said before I've made the mistake of leaving scissors, pepper, sprinkles, and who knows what else lying around. Every time it came back to bite me in the ass. Each of those just resulted in a little problem that was easily cleaned up. My tidying 'tardedness left me with something to deal with all day long just recently though.

I woke up the other day with my little girl sitting on the foot of my bed with a Toys 'R Us flyer. She was very interested in the Barbie ride on car they had on the cover. "It's got a wheel to drive with and a horn. You can put stuff in the back and the seat belt is purple." That's not the sort of thing you want to hear at 7:30 in the morning. Especially after having stayed up until 1:30 the night before watching the ballgame.

"This could be a long day.'

So we started our day, that car still the only thing she wanted to talk about. I got to hear about how it's just for little kids while we ate breakfast. I mean a snack. Heaven forbid we should tell her she's eating a meal. "Here's your snack, a grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and corn on the cob." After we ate, it was playtime. The kids rode on my back while they pretended I was a car. I assume she's trying to physically wear me down until I cave and buy it for her. Good luck, I'll play that game until I drop before I buy that car.

After getting a break while they played together in the big one's room, I suggested we go to the park. Always a popular idea with the youngsters. I buckled them into the double stroller and off we went. Guess what she talked about on the way there? Yep. She has big plans too.

"When I'm bigger I can drive my car. I'll drive it to school and my friends can ride in it. When I get to school I will get out and go to school."

"Did you just say you're going to drive your car to school?"

"When I'm bigger."

So she plans to drive herself to school. Part of me would love to see that. I can just imagine her being the only kid driving herself to kindergarten on the first day. Extolling the virtues of the vehicle and trying to physically beat me into submission didn't work but the complete absurdity or her plan make me lean in her direction. I think she thought she'd won too when it came time to go pick her mom up from work.

"Time to go get mom."

"Are we going somewhere after we pick up mom."

"Yes, we have to.."

"We going to go get the pink car?"

She was so hopeful that I almost felt bad about laughing. Almost. Instead I as just about in tears laughing. It helped that she found it as funny as I did. I think at that point if we'd had the money she'd be well on her way to driving to kindergarten on her first day. Guess she's got some work to do. And I need to keep the flyers out or her reach from now on.

It's Not How You Start, It's How You Finish

It's nice when a day that starts out crappy gets turned around. Yesterday, I got to wake up with a ringing phone waiting for me. On the other end was my wife letting me know the car broke down on the way to work and she was at the garage getting it fixed. "Oh damn. Are you sure loud squealing and grinding noises are really that bad? Just turn the radio up." Turns out that is the sort of thing that requires immediate attention. Almost seven hundred dollars later and it was ready to go. "Yeah, I didn't feel like paying all the bills this month anyways."

So forking out that kind of money before noon when I didn't plan to usually means the day is shot. I have to admit it got better though. Since my wife didn't go to work because the car wouldn't let her, she decided we were going to go swimming when she got home. We quickly gathered up the swimsuits and towels and were out the door. Who would have thought a public pool would be crowded on a hot summer day? I know, I was surprised too. Surprised my wife didn't expect there to be so many people there. "Oh really? How about after this we go get some ice cream and then go to the beach? I'm sure nobody is doing that either." We managed to stake out a little corner for the kids to have fun in. They had a blast which of course is contagiously mood brightening. After an hour we decided to leave since I figure that's almost the point where the ratio of water to little kid pee starts to lean toward the disgusting side. I was feeling pretty good when we left. Then I remembered they had gymnastics at 4:30.

While driving there I had flashbacks to last week that I can only describe as Apocalypse Now-esque (oh, the horror) I was not optimistic about how the class was going to go. I braced myself for the inevitable car wreck as I watched the clock inch closer and closer to 4:30. The time came and nothing. The big one went off with the other kids and the instructor without so much as looking back. "Are you serious? Am I about to be Punk'd?" My excitement was only increased when a couple of the other kids in her class started crying and had to be tended to by their parents. "Yes, it's not mine. It's not mine!" Just a tip, don't actually yell that out in the viewing area. The other parents generally consider that sort of gloating to be a tad bit dickish. It wasn't perfect though. The little one decided she needed both her parents with her but compared to last week that was a cake walk.

I was so euphoric after gymnastics that we went to the park to play. My wife dropped us off at the park around the corner and then went home to cook supper. We played for about half an hour before getting the call to come home. I understand sand is fun to play on and soft for falling on but it gets everywhere. I still have sand in my hair, not to mention several crevices. Small price to pay though because by the time bedtime rolled around they were exhausted. They were asleep with very little effort on our part. "I don't care if it only took fifteen minutes, I'm still taking credit for this bedtime. It does so count." Apparently, the combination of swimming, gymnastics, and playground fun is the magic recipe for an easy bedtime. Top it all of with an All Star Game that went fifteen innings, ending with a close play at the plate, and I'd say the day definitely turned around. Now if that stupid car would just cooperate we'd be all set.

Oops I Did It Again

So last week I'm minding my own business downstairs when I get called upstairs. Looking back I should have recognised that urgent yell but at the time I didn't think anything of it. I get to the top of the stairs and right away have a weird little stick stuck in my face. Couple that with the constant questioning, "Do you see it? Do you see what I'm seeing? Well, do you?"

"What am I supposed to be seeing?"

"The line, do you see the line?"

"What line?"

"Right there. There's a line. Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, you need to get your eyes checked."

Just for the record, I totally saw the line. I just didn't want to admit it. In my mind, if I didn't say it out loud then it wasn't real. I tried to say it was just a faint thing you see when something like that gets wet. That caused her to immediately go get another one that she'd taken a while ago that didn't have any line, not even a faint little one.

"You pee on things entirely too much. Seriously, that's not normal."

So that's how I reacted when I found out we're going to have another baby. I tried the total denial approach. It doesn't seem to have changed the results of that test though. It didn't change the results of the test she took at the doctor's office or the blood tests they did either. They all conspired to swing the ratio of kids to parents in favour of those lovable little leprechauns. (Leprechauns partly because of their Irish ancestry and partly because they're tiny, hard to catch, wear diapers with rainbows on them. Definitely no pot of gold at the end of it)

So two out of the three times I found out there was a bun in the oven was by having a pee covered test thrust at me. The other time she came home with a baby on board sticker on the stomach of her shirt. That one wasn't as startling. Who knew giving someone news when you're not panicked is the way to go? Certainly makes for a calmer reaction. I wasn't the only one with an interesting reaction to the news though.

I told my mom and her reaction was "how'd that happen?"

"Seriously? You do know you're a nurse, right?"

Mom in turn told my sister. Her reaction was to email me and say "I'm not sure if mom was supposed to tell me. If she was then congratulations. If she wasn't supposed to, then do you have something to tell me?"

Then there was the kids. We haven't actually told them yet. Here's hoping they don't learn to read and maneuver their way through the Internet to this post. I asked the oldest if she thought we should have another baby. Her response was "you should have a baby for Cameron to play with because she doesn't like to play with me sometimes."

"Ok, so we should have one so Cameron can be a big sister. Do you think she'd like to have a boy or girl to play with."

"Umm, how about a boy and a girl?"

"Go to your room. You can come out when you stop saying things that give daddy a panic attack."

A Recipe For Disaster

I enjoy anything baked. Bread, cake, pie, muffins, cookies, croissants, I love it all. I'm not exaggerating when I say love either; it's almost an unnatural thing. At my local grocery store there's a distinct path worn into the flooring leading from the front door to the bakery section. I don't think they'd have any trouble matching the footprints that made it to the tread of my sneakers. If I was a baker, the bakery would be empty and I'd be the world's fattest baker. I'm nowhere nearly jolly enough for that so I ruled that out as a career path long ago.

With that in mind, it's no surprise my kids enjoy baked goodies too. That's why I figured we'd have fun if we made some cupcakes together. It'd be like arts and crafts except you get to eat it at the end. So I planned ahead and got it all set up. I put the bowl on the floor so all three of us could help and to minimize the risk of spills. Anything falls on the floor and it's easily swept up. I handed my older girl the cake mix packet and she poured it in without incident. You didn't think I was going to make it from scratch, did you? I love all thing baked but I'm not Martha friggin' Stewart. Next came the water with minimal spillage. I got her to help me count as we poured four half spoonfuls of cooking oil in. (Fun and educational, that's just good parenting there.) She even helped crack the eggs without getting shells in the batter. I've got to get her to show me how to do that.

Then the bowl went back up to the counter for the electric mixer to do its job. Kids a safe distance away, so far so good. Once it was mixed I brought it back to the floor so we could scoop the batter into the muffin tray, cupcake tray in this case I guess. Everyone got their spoon and we started to fill up the cups. A little bit messy but that was expected. Everything is under control. "Why is there a paintbrush in the batter?" Apparently, the spoon wasn't good enough for the little one so she decided to use one of her little paintbrushes. She also didn't agree with our idea of putting the batter in the tray and proceeded to paint on the floor. No big deal. I'm pretty sure wikipedia said the early French Impressionists worked with cake batter, or it will say that when I'm done with it. Ok, cupcakes ready to bake with about the level of mess I'd expected, other than the painting of course. If you look at it just right it looks like a sailboat though.

Fast forward half an hour and it's time to put the frosting on. Everyone is assembled happily at the kitchen table, plastic knife in hand. Can of frosting is opened, stirred (I already told you, I'm not Martha) and ready to go. I expected a tornado of frosting but it actually went pretty well. So well in fact that I decided we should add sprinkles. That would be the first big mistake. I got the nice four chambered plastic container full of pink, purple, blue, and yellow sprinkles. The got to pick colours and together we spread them over the cupcakes. All going well until I got a call from nature and went to answer it. Big mistake number two. I can't prove it but I believe they slipped something into my water to make me have to go. With me out of the way, they could launch their evil plan.

I was gone for maybe three minutes. One hundred and eighty seconds. That's how long it takes for two youngsters to completely pop the top off a sprinkle container and empty it. I walked back into the kitchen to the sound of laughing and was greeted with "I'm sorry." Took me a second to realise what she was sorry for and then I saw it. A beautiful rainbow of sprinkles over the table, the chairs, and the floor.

"Oh no, not again."

To make things better I was given the explanation that it was a sprinkle ocean. I was less than impressed but I couldn't exactly argue with that one. After all, it could have been worse. They could have taken advantage of the frosting and iced each other. That would have been fun to explain to their mom. I know how I'd do it though. I'd wait until I was just about to leave for work and then tell her as I was halfway out the door.

"Oh, by the way, the kids got together and ate a big tub of frosting this afternoon. Have fun with bedtime. Love you, bye."

Follow that up with the sound of tires squealing as I made a Fast and Furious getaway. So as bad as it was, at least it didn't come to that.

Welcome To A World Of Pure Imagination

I absolutely love to see my kids using their imaginations. The things they come up with amaze me and usually crack me up. Well, it's mostly the three year old being imaginative. The little one is more into copying which is actually pretty entertaining too. One kid singing and dancing, cute. Two kids singing and dancing, hilarious.

Like I was saying though, the older one is at the stage where she's big into the pretend play. She likes to get a doll or stuffed animal and tell me "that's my baby and I'm a mommy". So far that hasn't led to any big criticisms of our parenting yet. Mostly she just pushes her in a stroller and puts her to sleep. Apparently, that's all she thinks we do as parents. Ever had a three year old tell you to be quiet so her baby doesn't wake up?

"Yeah, that would suck if someone woke her up while you were trying to get her to sleep. Any chance you're gonna keep that in mind tonight at bedtime? Didn't think so."

It's really cool how she sees things when she's playing. An entertainment centre is a dollhouse. A bunch of couch cushions thrown together is a castle. Put a couple chairs beside each other, grab a toy plate for a steering wheel and you've got a car. Oh, and anytime she's driving her car she make a stop at the Tim Horton's drivethrough. I haven't heard her ordering a double double yet but she's got Timbits and a drink down pat. That and the fact she uses debit anytime she's playing store are the best examples of how much she's been paying attention to us. It's not all castles and cars though. Her creative mind can backfire as when she uses it to avoid taking responsibility.

"Have you seen my keys?"

"I was playing with them."

"Can you go get them for me?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"A wizard disappeared them."

"Oh crap. Is he going to bring them back?"

"No, he disappeared them."

"Ok, just let me make a phone call.... Hi, I'm not going to be able to come in to work today because I can't drive my car. Apparently, a wizard disappeared me keys.... Yeah, a wizard disappeared them again. It's crazy right? I think I'm being targeted or someth.... What's that? If I don't show up for work today someone is going to make my job disappear? Damn wizards."

"Good news sweety, daddy's going to have lots of extra time for tea parties. You want to pass me the invisible Timbits and a cup of tea?"