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Category Archives: Ian
Why are these eggs filled with colors?
I dyed Easter eggs with Ian for the first time today. (Yeah, we’re a little early. No worries.)
Okay everybody, get your hoses out!
“Now Seeds, Start Growing…”
Pizza Garden Progress
This week they planted pumpkin seedlings.
Ian's Pizza Garden
Butterfly House
Just another great consignment sale score: An unopened butterfly house kit for $1.50. Despite the Little Dude’s reaction to his last butterfly experience, he was superbly excited to do this project. Prudence dictated that we use washable paints for this project, so once he and Daddy have decided that they are “finished” painting the house, we’ll spray it with a waterproof sealer and hang it outside someplace the butterflies will hopefully find it.
This made a great addition to morning art time. And yes, it did eventually deteriorate into an experiment regarding what happens to the water when you add progressively more black paint by dipping and rinsing your brush over… and over… and over… but… it’s the process, not the product, right?
And yes, Morning Art Time is still a feature of our continuing run of (until now anyway) unusually peaceful mornings. I’ll be keeping that going as long as humanly possible…
Sharks
Morning around here usually goes like this:
Ian wakes up at “Oh dark thirty,” runs into our room, slams into the bed, jumps on us, screams at Daddy to WAKE UP IT’S UP TIME, then runs around like a demented maniac until it’s time to leave. The decibel level approaches an aircraft hanger, the house is trashed in approximately 20 minutes from when his feet hit the floor, and someone will yell at someone before all is said and done. And then there are usually tears. And while Ian pats my arm and says, “but Mommy, it will be all right,” I can’t help but think, “there has to be a better way…”
Two days in a row we’ve had idyllic mornings where he listened, cleaned up after himself without being reminded, played quietly, gave me lots of nice hugs and kisses, and just generally performed above expectations. I, personally, can’t help wondering if he’s ill in some way, but for a substantial cash donation I’m willing to have him lick your kid in case it’s catching.
Here’s a little sample for you:
Essential gear for reading Dr. Seuss
While getting dressed out of his shark jammies:
The shark says, “I’M HUNGRY!” and the fish say, “OH NO! You are NOT going to eat us.” and then the fish just SWIM AWAY because they do not like to be eaten.”
Lolling about after making the bed
In fact,Mommy is SO impressed by how wonderful the last two mornings have been, that she is doing everything in her power to make sure this feat is repeatable. Ian helped me design this chart of his morning routine:
Going on the back of Ian's door as a record of how this is SUPPOSED to work
Not Roughing It Any More…
Our own little miracle
mostly. I am well aware that half the world has no running water and 25% of the global population does not have access to clean water for drinking, bathing, and cooking… so it is with the proper awe due the miracle of hot and cold running water that I announce we have a new hot water heater. And it’s hooked up. And it’s working. Thanks to my brother being willing to help us out even when he was clearly tired from a weekend trip.
Or, as Ian summed it up, “Uncle Tyler is Very Good, knows things, AND… he loves me.”
It wasn’t all bad… I have absolutely no ambition to be quite as self-sufficient as Granny Miller, although we do have some things in common- an aversion to debt and the slavery it puts you in, for instance- but I like to think I did rise to the challenge of several days with no dryer and no hot running water pretty well for a cranky pregnant woman who can’t drown her sorrows in cake.
For instance, I now know that about 2 inches of cold water in the bathtub plus a water-bath canner full of boiling water makes a bath so hot you have to add some more cold water before you get in. Your mileage may vary.
Also, I figured out that if you have a top load washer, pouring same said canner full of boiling water into an already filled, waiting machine DOES allow you to do a warm water wash.
In the early hours of Saturday morning, when the power was out due to the water heater malfunction, I was able to figure out that a couple cold lights hanging from the shower curtain hooks make a dim but functional bathroom for morning tasks.
I haven’t yet found a good, permanent home for the five-line clothes drying system, but I’m working on it. Instead, the ad-hoc substitute for the dryer is two pop-up laundry racks parked under the ceiling fan. Except for an entire load of napkins and kitchen towels, which exceeded their capacity temporarily, they’re doing the job.
The biggest frustration for me right now is that I can’t just, say, muscle the dryer out from the wall, take it apart, fix it, and shove it back into place. Which, if it’s fixable, I’d normally be quite delighted to do. If someone watches my kid for me, that is. In fact, if someone would hold this fetus for me, I’d be happy to do it RIGHT NOW. Or whenever the part arrives. Whichever is sooner.
So the question is…
How did he open the can, completely dunk the screwdriver in it, pour out a pint of paint, and re-close the can without getting so covered in paint we couldn’t HELP but know what he’d done?
Mommy: Ian, what happened here?
Ian: Well, I was just trying to make something.
Mommy: I have to leave the room.
Apparently this is what I get for letting the thought cross my mind (not my lips… I never tempted fate by uttering it aloud) that he doesn’t seem to get up to quite the mayhem he used to and that maybe he’s growing up. WRONG. He’s just learned to hide the evidence.
(In case you’re wondering, the paint was completely dry, so this apparently happened days ago.)
Overheard today…
(Growly voice): Do you wanna play with me?
(Squeaky voice): Oh yes, Dragon. You are friendly. But you do eat me once in a while.
32 weeks
So, here we are today at 32 weeks. Fortunately for me, the Gestational Diabetes diet actually means I have more energy this time. My theory is that I was not eating enough during the day, and then making up for it at night. This is NOT a good plan if you have an active three year old! But the diet makes you space your food out in increments and eat every two hours, which is working for me.
If you’re staring down the barrel of this diagnosis, let me tell you: MEAT. I’ve done it once as a vegetarian and once not- and I have to say it was pure misery without meat. I managed about as well as anyone could, but the best option is to control this through diet- which means the more protein options you have, the better.
Either because I’m eating meat or because I don’t have it as severely this time, my numbers are lower. So it looks like I won’t need medication again, which is GREAT, because medication means extra doctor appointments which means… less time with the little dude I have.
If you happen to be running the betting pool on how high the number will climb, please note that I’m tipping the scales at 189.5 lbs as of yesterday morning- I am so thrilled they chose not to round up that half pound. So good for my self esteem to balance that 8 ounces against the first three numbers… (yep, I’m being facetious.) At any rate, the doctor still says I shouldn’t worry about my weight. So I won’t. Because getting through the grocery store in search of diabetic-friendly options when they are baking fresh chocolate chip cookies is enough to worry about at one time.