flea

Dillo is such a wild thing right now. Everything is "bum bum," which is his version of potty language, although he rarely brings out the poo-poo and pee-pee. But songs, rhymes, etc, all get "bum bum" added in every other word. And then he makes a goofy face and/or a fart noise. He also has a (self-derived, apparently) nickname for his penis. He recently learned how to mock his sister, when we were watching a documentary about wild horses and one of them died. She lost it and was sobbing and he started going, "wah, wah, the horsie died!" Ah, little brothers, how you can suck. (I mean, he's three, and the concept of death is still beyond him - it's definitely a 4 year old concept in my experience - but still.)

It's going to be a real challenge dealing with him solo this week. mr. flea has been on exclusive night duty for months, because a) he's up until 9:30pm and b) he's a WILD ANIMAL and I have NO PATIENCE.

Also, still in the 'needs constant reminding' potty phase. He has accidents at school about every other day still.

We went to a potluck last night - someone told me the Evite showed 126 people attending, and we weren't on the Evite. It was a zoo. I'd say easily 50 children.

The family has 3 boys, aged 8, 6, and 4. The middle one is in Casper's class at school. They have a play set in the back yard and a scrum of boys in the 4-6 range were all over it through most of the party, while Dillo did some swinging and eventually some climbing and sliding. As you know, Bob, Dillo is the World's Most Cautious Child, but in this case his caution was appropriate - some of these kids were little hellions. General roughness in the course of games I can handle (though Dillo, not so much) but I saw pushing, tackling, and punches thrown. It was a serious male competitive atmosphere. It made me glad I have a sensitive new age kid. Not that Dillo was the only one who was behaving well - he stuck close to our neighbor Henry and his friend Tommy, who had their own elaborate game involving a frisbee, shield, and two horns off of a viking helmet.

I guess the part that disturbed me was that few parents were paying attention at all, and I had the sense that even if the parents of the wilder boys had been watching, they would not have considered the level of physicality and violence anything to be concerned about. Among our neighbors we have some wilder sorts - Owen is a natural Tasmanian Devil type, and Spencer has a temper and is big and can be physical. But both of their parents keep a close eye on them and call them out when they behave badly - Spencer's parents more effectively than Owen's, but Spencer also has a year on Owen, and Owen is seriously a force of nature. But I think some parents feel that boys are boys, and excessive roughness and pushing are par for the course, and they should work it out among themselves. Judging by what I saw last night, it's not a good strategy.

In other boy news, Casper recently informed us that she kissed a boy on the lips at after school. His name is Zachary and he's also a first grader I think, and actually he's quite a looker. Casper really likes boys.

Dillo is running around the house with his pull-up pulled down so his penis is sticking out the top. he's also shouting, "penis power!"

Our beta fish Rosalina has been getting increasingly sick. She's got some kind of fin ick, and her gills are all poking out, and she has no appetite and lies at the bottom of the bowl. We've given her some kind of antibiotic and added an anti-ammonia treatment to the water this week; right now mr. flea is changing the water with some water her has carefully let sit for 24 hours in the sun (I had been just using a de-chlorinator). I hope she perks up soon. Casper is actually fairly soigne about the possible demise of her fish.

My teeth are still remarkably sore. I think everything is fine - I can sort of feel the stitches and it's a little weird. I just thought I would have stopped needing painkillers by now, 5 days in. I do okay for a while, but then ache sets in and it makes my whole head ache. Also, the most painful thing is yawning, which is kind of funny.

We looked at new Toyotas today. I don't think we're going to buy soon, but mr. flea has been talking with a coworker about whether a more fuel-efficient car or doing the house projects would reduce our carbon footprint more. I liked the 2010 Prius (it's a redesign), and it has an adjustable driver's side seat. The only one they had on the lot had a moon roof, which reduces head room by more than an inch, but I think without it mr. flea would be okay on clearance. We also looked at a Matrix, which isn't available in a hybrid. That had tons of head room, but it felt a little cheaper somehow (it is, technically, cheaper, of course). Both are hatchbacks which I love and miss. We'll be in the market for a car in a year or two (we currently drive a 2000 Focus), so I think we may wait things out and try to get a nearly-new 2010 Prius at that point. Almost all of our driving is stop-and-go city stuff, and we'd get nearly double the mileage in a Prius. But if we decide we can't afford one, it's good to know that a used Matrix would probably be a fine and widely available choice.

Meanwhile we need to start calling some contractors to get a sense of what fixing the home energy audit stuff would even cost. I don't have any sense at all. And it would be nice to insulate the upstairs enough so that when we come home in the afternoon it isn't 87 degrees in our bedroom. That's with the whole-house AC set at 78. With the bathroom vent fan, we can usually get it down to bearable (82-83 with ceiling fan on) by bedtime. But, really!

I am listening to Pandora today. I am amused at the music I like but am a little ashamed to like (at this moment, Dave Matthews, Crash - which is perhaps improbably playing on my channel named Talking Heads).

We are invited to an informal reception for one of mr. flea's colleagues, who has married a woman named, get this, Charlotte Webb. !!! Mean parents!

I have been hankering to sew skirts and/or slips lately. I bought a simple skirt pattern on one of Sister's trips to Durham (possibly 2-3 years ago) and haven't opened it. I am also fascinated by the angry chicken 5-minute skirt pattern (http://angrychicken.typepad.com/angry_chicken/2008/07/5-minute-skirt.html). I have two too-big skirts that could be adapted and cut down to cute knee-length skirts - one is immense (maternity and a much-gathered elastic waist, so lots of volume of fabric to work with). I'd love to make another from new fabric (POLKA DOTS, anyone) and also make some lovely half-slips in jewel-tone silk or fake silk.

Of course, my sewing machine is currently serving as our computer desk. Also, I have no time. And if I made time, and dug out the sewing machine, Dillo would be a Giant Pain In The Ass getting into my sewing supplies and wanting to help and stuff. (I know this because I remember clearly how Casper was a Giant Pain In The Ass when I was working on Dillo's baby quilt - the last thing I sewed - when she was almost exactly the age Dillo is now.)

Dillo is suddenly full of rambunctious, physical, boy energy. He's been a bit of a runner for a bit - not reliably, but occasionally just dashes off in public - so I worry a lot in parking lots and tend to carry him. He's also loved to run laps around the house. But suddenly he's doing a lot of punching and in-your-face physical stuff, and reacting to action scenes on TV or even in books (Curious George Rides a Bike, yesterday - not exactly a race car book) with boy-like Zooooom! and Whoooosh! and so forth. I hope he is getting enough outside time at school (not today, it is pouring rain) and we need to work at getting him not just outside but running.

I'm ready to wean him, and we plan to sit him down and tell him so today. The Mall of Georgia has a Build a Bear Workshop store - which is where Casper picked out her purple pony the day she was weaned - so I think it will be nice to repeat the tradition and do the same with Dillo. I am hoping by telling the story of Casper's weaning we will be able to include her in the process and and also make him feel less like this is something happening to him and more like it is a family transition to be celebrated. We'll see. I'm not sure if we should set a date of this weekend (the mall is open Sunday afternoon; we have commitments already on Saturday) or wait another week. Kids (even Casper, still) seem really to have no sense of time passing, but would it help to talk about it for more than 4 days to prepare him?

Part of the reason I'm feeling some urgency to wean is he'll have to be potty-trained by this summer (for day care, to move to the 3-4 year old room), and we have not begun. I got him to sit on the little potty, but not pee, the other day; he refuses to sit on the toilet because he is scared (he told me I would flush him down the drain!) Once the weaning is done, we can pull out the books and start talking about potty in earnest. I hope warmer weather and no-pants will help too. Need some Daddy examples.

The Dillo has started backseat driving, as a corollary to the ongoing "I don't want to go to school" theme. When we stop at red lights, he'll put his feet into the back of my seat and push, saying, "Go, go!" When the car gets close to his school (after I am dropped off), he'll start telling mr. flea to turn around, or turn, and go a different way. mr. flea has been teaching him to notice and name the red and green lights, which seems to be working as a distraction from, "I never get any donuts" and "I don't want to go at school."

We had a bunch of hilarious conversations at various points in bed together last night (and yes, for all intents and purposes Dillo and I are co-sleeping at this point, and I do not like this regression at all). The only one I really remember went:

me: Hello lovey boy. I love you.
Dillo: I love ... your nursie.

Yeah, pretty much.

Dillo just came and got a paint with water book (which just appeared in our house recently - I have no idea where it came from!). When I went to see what he was doing, I found he was trying to reach the bowl of M&Ms on top of the 6-foot china cabinet. By standing on a book that is probably 1/8th of an inch thick.

I gave him some M&Ms just because that was so cute.

(In general news, I am winning all the bad parenting awards today - all TV alla time, two year old "got dressed" in pajamas, pizza for lunch, temper tantrums by 5 year old - I am so hot today, I tell you. A couple M&Ms for cuteness is nothin' around here.)

Can there be any more hilarious words in the English language than, "Dillo just peed into the box of legos"?

The box was tupperware, and the mass of Duplos easily washed in the tub, once I got finished cackling.

In other recent WTF child news, this morning I declared dance party and put on They Might Be Giants. Casper said, "Stop shaking your booty." When I asked why I should, she told me, "Your butt smells really bad. When you shake your booty, it gets your smelly booty breath everywhere."

O-kay. (WTF? She is a little obsessed with things smelling, especially butts, lately.)

Yesterday Dillo learned to climb into the dining room chairs. Ten minutes later, he learned how to climb onto the dining room table.

Today he learned how to uncap the (washable) markers.

I don't think anyone needs to learn how to throw a full bowl of spaghetti or yogurt or cheerios or cheddar bunnies onto the floor.

Dillo is beginning to be a bit of a handful.

Casper has somehow gone from being an average-to-adventurous eater (I mean, remember when she ate the egg shells?) to the kind of kid who wants to eat noodles for every meal. Dinners are one thing - our house rule is, I don't cook special food for anyone over 1 year old and under 50, so if you don't like what's for dinner, you may have a bowl of spaghetti if there is leftover pasta in the fridge, and if there isn't, you may have a peanut butter bread. And you must TRY the food before telling me it is too spicy, or plain yucky. Remember, you actually LIKE lasagna, since it is just noodles and cheese and you like tomato sauce?

But the lunches! Still with the sending food and it not being eaten, often not TOUCHED. And the extreme cranky at 5:30 and we wonder why. Letting her tell me what she wants doesn't work. She'll not touch some of her favorite things, and the list of favorites that are things that are actually healthy is shrinking all the time. Brownies she'd eat every day, but she won't even eat noodles in her lunch.

Dillo, for his part, has been wearing the cranky pants since getting better. Everything that thwarts him - and there are many things, as he is small and clumsy and inarticulate - gets a WHAP of the hand. He doesn't hurt anyone (although Casper wails as if he does), but we are trying to encourage him to vent his troubles more constructively, or at least whap the floor and not mom. I think is it just annoying to have a stuffy head and a bad cough and so forth, mostly. Sometimes I wish I could whap people who piss me off.

In adorable and funny kid news, remember I mentioned the Naked Baby Alert, whoop whoop, routine? We have a magnet of Michelangelo's David on the fridge. Dillo likes to take off the magnetic pants and go "whoop whoop!" at David.