Oh, The Indignity

Today it was stamps and dot markers. And eighty-seven thousand more inches of snow.

Today it was stamps and dot markers. And eighty-seven thousand more inches of snow.

Today’s snow day, you’ll be pleased to learn, was actually one of the good ones. The kids were cooperated and listened and played and were cute. This may be because I held TV over their heads, with a promise we could watch Thomas and George and Martha at 4:00 if they were good until then. Now threatening TV loss really fucks over one person: me. Because if they suck and lose TV, then I get sucky kids to whom I have to listen for an additional 45 minutes.

We planned a picnic on the TV room floor, with popcorn for Little Liebchen and me and Trader Joe’s cheesey sandwich crackers for Das Big Boy. But then at 4:00, as I was making the popcorn, Little Liebchen dropped and shattered her glass of milk (yes, I’m an idiot and I sometimes give her open glasses with which to walk around). So I shooed her away. Then Das Big boy came thundering into the room, pushing LL’s doll stroller. “Stay away from the play kitchen,” I told him. “There’s glass over there and you could get hurt.” He ignored me. “DBB, stay away. Be careful! Get away from there!” He backed up, then went for it full force. So I screamed at him to move away. Like, really screamed. I am a mom who yells sometimes, I admit it. But I am not a screamer.

And then he moved away, but started to have a meltdown. So I put him in a timeout (or maybe it was a time in, since I went with him), and explained to him that I had screamed not because I was mad, but because I was afraid he would get hurt. And that when it’s a matter of safety, he has to listen and can’t play around. And he stopped melting. And he listened. And we both apologized. Was that me and my kid?!

Snuggle time!

Snuggle time! In sleeping bags that were mine as a child that Gigi just washed and gave to the kids.

The miracle of it was that neither of us allowed it to be anything other than a blip in an otherwise delightful day. We still watched our TV (I didn’t hold the incident against him because a) he had made it to 4, and b) he calmed down so well. (And, ok, c) because I was excited for our cozy time.)

Then our cozy time was wonderful. We watched the shows we’d planned on. We snuggled and snacked. So there was a lesson here for me: That it’s so much better to let go of the tough moments and not let them define the day. Getting mad, or scared, or stressed doesn’t mean one has to stay that way. (Duh. But also difficult).

But let’s be honest: it’s impossible not to let the weather define the day. Seriously. Snow. What the fuck?! I’ve lived in New England for thirty-two of my thirty-seven years, including four years in New Hampshire. I have never seen anything like this. Here are some views from my house:

IMG_2924

That icicle reaches from the roof to the ground. Granted, the ground is elevated four feet by snow, but still.

IMG_2920

Percent chance our garage collapses?

Today, I went out to shovel our walkway and a path to the car. I informed Das Big Boy of my intentions. “No,” he said, “Only Daddy shovels.” Groan. #failedfeminist. And then I did shovel. And I did a great job. So there. But not so great that I want school tomorrow. Not sure I want to dig out my car. And if the kiddos are such sweetpeas again, I’ll have fun being home with them. I give this a much lower likelihood than the survival of that garage.

And local friends, don’t look at the forecast.

PS: the title of this post has nothing to do with anything, really, except it’s Gordon’s catchphrase on Thomas and I’m obsessed.


Pride Goeth Before A(nother) Snowstorm

Two things to be proud of:

1. This tower.

Das Big Boy built this enormous tower (and the Shake Shake Bridge and Knapford Station, for those in the know).

Das Big Boy built this enormous tower (and the Shake Shake Bridge and Knapford Station, for those in the know).

2. Little Liebchen wore undies today! And only had two accidents. I wanted to do the naked potty training thing with her (she’s been telling us when she has to go, so I’d decided to give it a shot). But of course she didn’t want to be bottomless because then she wasn’t wearing an outfit. So she got to wear undies and pants. And she did great and is very pleased with herself. She wants to tell everyone about them and have very, very long conversations in which we list who else uses the potty. Rocky, Landlord, Huxtables, Gigi, Papa, Grandma, Grandpa, Nini, Dr. G., ‘Burban Bestie, Mo, and others, your names were invoked in these conversations.

Ok, remember how I was all la-la-la I love having my kids home and snow days are great and here are all the things we’re doing at the Husband Hausfrau preschool?

Yeah, I’m kind of over it. We have ANOTHER snow day tomorrow. Now remember, we had one last Monday, one the Monday before that and one that Tuesday. Plus, Das Big Boy was home sick on Thursday and Friday of last week. That’s a whole lotta stuck at home time. And Herr Husband left tonight and ostensibly won’t be back until Friday (he’s technically here from 11 pm Wednesday until 5 am Thursday, but I think we can all agree that doesn’t count.)

So things may get a smidge crazy up in here. I’m thinking board games, sand play, water play, mouse paint, and giant collages are on the agenda. Or maybe just mild maternal day drinking. We’ll see.


Hooray

BSO = smashing success! My wiggle pants sat stock still every time the music played (although he was a little less compelled by the interstitial talks from the conductor–which were great–he behaved beautifully and had an awesome time). He loved the space and the music and watching the conductor. Herr Husband and Little Liebchen had an equally wonderful time at the aquarium, and then we all met there for a quick snack and quick viewing of the penguins, seals, and rays. To top it all off, we picked up Anna’s Taqueria on the way home.

Exhaustion for all. But here’s some photographic evidence.

IMG_2791

He looks so great that I'm posting a photo of myself on the Internet in which I have a double chin. The depths of maternal love knows no bounds, clearly.

He looks so great that I’m posting a photo of myself on the Internet in which I have a double chin. The depths of maternal love knows no bounds, clearly.

IMG_2807

IMG_2812IMG_2833IMG_2848IMG_2887IMG_2900IMG_2888Hope your days were filled with wonder, too.


Brief Friday Notes

He's been talking about the symphony for weeks.

He’s been talking about the symphony for weeks.

The big news is that Das Big Boy is better. No intestinal incidents today, and although he did wake up miserable, he seemed to feel much better after eating. So we’re a go for our big mother/son date tomorrow: the Family Concert at the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Das Big Boy loves classical music, so it should be quite fun. And it’s a deal: kids are free, and my ticket was $20. We tend to spend all of our family time as a foursome, which is great, but we think it’s a good idea to give each kid some one-on-one attention. So Little Liebchen will have some father-daughter time, activity TBD.

Here is how we spent our day at home: painting, reading, napping, and watching Thomas. We’re all obsessed with the way Gordon says, “Oh, the indignity,” and we say it 100 times a day.

Finger/sponge/cotton/brush painting. Muffin tin idea courtesy of Mama Woods! Everyone is still largely interested in painting characters from Thomas.

Finger/sponge/cotton/brush painting. Muffin tin idea courtesy of Mama Woods! Everyone is still largely interested in painting characters from Thomas.

If we’re not Facebook friends (highly unlikely, given my readership), you missed this unmissable gem:

Little Liebchen: What’s on your neck?
Hipster Hausfrau: I don’t know, what’s on my neck?
LL: Your boobs.
HH: Not anymore, honey.
LL: They on your tummy?
HH: Unfortunately, yes. That is closer to the truth.

What was extra adorable and hilarious was the earnestness in her voice when she asked, “They on your tummy?” She just wanted to get it right, you guys.

That’s all I have to give tonight. Herr Husband is back after three nights away, and we’re binge watching Downton and eating Abbott’s Frozen Custard peanut butter cup pie. A dear friend asked what I would do better when I wasn’t blogging every day: one thing I’ll be better at is spending time with Herr Husband!


Pseudo-Selfies

Recently the Husband Hausfrau children became obsessed with the selfie, or at least the version of the picture in which they could see it being taken.

This fixation yielded near constant cries of, “Take my picture, Mommy!” And the following results:

IMG_2740.JPG
Yes, that is Das Big Boy with a bra on his face. He says it’s a mask. More specifically, he says it’s a mask a friend wore to a party celebrating one of Brian Staveley’s novels, in which said friend was dressed as the Blank God. (PS read Brian’s novels immediately if you haven’t! They are awesome and will cure your GRRM itch, which GRRM himself just ain’t scratchin’).

IMG_2741.JPG
Cuteness and he knew it.

IMG_2712.JPG
My shopping helper. She insisted on carrying the bag. And I don’t usually shop at Janie and Jack, but Das Big Boy needed an outfit for our date on Saturday (more on that soon), and everything was on sale.

IMG_2744.JPG
Here, I was trying to quickly snap a pic of them walking on the path through the snow, but the lens was reversed from their earlier pics, so I got a scary picture of myself. Sheer terror somewhat mitigated by the adorable sunglasses Herr Husband got me for my birthday.

IMG_2747.JPG
The photo I was going for.


Snowpocalypse?

Is that what we’re supposed to call it?  Snowmageddon? Snopocalypse? Snopacshakur?

Anyway, I’m excited. This is my confession (to be sung to the tune of that Usher song, which is what Herr Husband and I do when we’re admitting something embarrassing):

I actually like snow days with my kids because I feel like we can be lazy,

and don’t have to get anything accomplished.

Here are some possible activities, all of which might be thrown over in order to focus on items 1, 6, 7, and 8.

Children in the snow. Like tomorrow, only with less snow.

Children in the snow. Like tomorrow, only with less snow.

1. Fire in the fireplace.

2. Homemade playdough (using the mixer is a big thing for our kids, thanks to George and Martha and Curious George and the Birthday Surprise), which leads to Strega Nona re-enactments and making Sad Owl.

3. Mouse Paint, inspired by the book, Mouse Paint, whereby my kids strip and paint with their bodies on paper that’s been taped to the floor. This leads to a bath, perhaps with a shaving cream fight.

4. Lots of book reading. Elephant and Piggie (we own like twelve of them) are figuring prominently these days because Das Big Boy can read many of the words in them himself!

5. Freeze jump (like freeze dance, but with jumping) in Little Liebchen’s crib.

6. Hot chocolate drinking.

7. Red wine drinking (21+ only).

8. Watching of George and Martha and Thomas, undoubtedly.

She finds this snowman very funny. Let's see how she feels about all the snow tomorrow.

She finds this snowman very funny. Let’s see how she feels about all the snow tomorrow.

9. Playing in the ball pit.

10. Playing tea party.

11. Chasing the children with an oven mitt, Beejer, and/or a toss pillow.

12. Junk food eating.

13. Puzzles.

14. Puppet making.

15. Crow playing.

16. Thomas coloring book coloring.

17. Pillow fort building.

Herr Husband won’t be going to work, obviously, and we’re stocked up on real food, junk food, kid essentials, wine, etc. The devices are fully charged. I think it promises to be cozy and exciting. We’ll check in tomorrow to see if I was right.


My Name Is Hippopotamus and Other Conversations with my Two Year Old

"With a fruit goop mouth and a carrot nose, and two eyes made out of rocks..."

“With a fruit goop mouth and a carrot nose, and two eyes made out of rocks…”

Here is a conversation I had with Little Liebchen over lunch today:

LL: My name is Mr. Appleman.*

Me: Your name is Mr. Appleman? I remember naming you something different when you were born.

LL: My name is hippopotamus.

*I have no fucking idea who Mr. Appleman is or where she’s heard this name.

And later, once she realized Rocky thought it was hilarious, she latched onto it and kept announcing that her name was hippopotamus to anyone who would listen.

Das Big Boy rapping about our snowman.

Das Big Boy rapping about our snowman. LL eating snow.

We also built a snowman today, the first ever for THREE members of our family. Herr Husband claims he had never before built a snowman. It was funny seeing all of the snowman pics on Facebook today, and being like, Hey, friends who are parents of preschoolers and live in New England: we all did the same exact thing today. And also, Hey, I know you did 99% of the work because a) that snowman is three feet taller than your kid and b) I had to do almost all the work on my significantly smaller snowman.