Call It What You Want...

A little boy in my house turned two today. Unfortunately, it was a spotty day for moods, and most of them were bad. But the end of the day certainly made up for it...

Adam had breakfast in the "It's my special day!" bowl that I painted at the pottery place here in town. I had to be very careful not to fill it very full. He was happy about it. And stuffed his cheeks full.

He got a card from Tim's aunt Margrethe and uncle Jim and was very excited to find what was inside: "DOWWAS!" (dollars)

He carried around the $2 bill all morning, saying "Dowwas! Dowwas!" Mark was vexed at this and pointed out that it was just ONE dollar; there weren't two of them!

Later, it was presents from grandparents, aunt and uncle and cousins, and yes, even mom and dad, though we certainly picked the wrong present to open with, as everything ground to a halt after he saw...

THIS.

Favorite babysitter Sam and her mom and dad came over -- both Steve and Tammy are the boys' friends in their own right: Tammy used to hold Mark and draw truck pictures for him at the ladies' Bible study at church when I went on Wednesday mornings, and Steve plays with the boys when they go to the men's Bible study with Dad on Saturdays -- to share birthday cake and ice cream. Adam was worried at first to see Sam and only wanted to cuddle with me or Tim (don't leave me!), but after he realized we really truly weren't leaving, he was fine.

All in all, it was a vehicle-focused birthday, with tractors, trains, trucks and construction equipment -- and a very big Clifford. Mr. Adam, now two, is in truck-lover heaven.

Now here's hoping for some decent sleep tonight.

Is it a surprise to say that Mark has become an expert at manipulating his brother?

Adam has a toy that Mark would really like to play with. Adam isn't interested in parting with it -- until...

Mark offers another toy, often something that is special to him in some way (example: Doggy). "Here you go," he tells Adam in a super-sugary voice.

Adam accepts the offered toy, sometimes (but not always) setting down the original item. Sometimes Adam even offers the wanted item to Mark.

Mark accepts the toy graciously and goes off to play with his new acquisition.

Adam thinks he really scored a deal with whatever he now has.

How long until Mark learns to say, "Trade-able?"

These are our cute little rocks from Lakeside. There are two each from Jonathan and Mark, and one each from Grandma Sarah, Tara, Brian, Tim, and me, with a last one painted by me and left at the house from all of us. Oh, I forgot (here are your invisible friends, Heather): Adam and Andrew each painted one.

Any guesses on who made which rock?

P.S. No guesses from people who painted rocks, Big Mama!

I have just tucked Mark into bed and am getting ready to do more cleaning and stuff, when I really need to be going off to the store and getting stuff for next week, because Tim is at the emergency room with Adam.

Yes. After a day of practicing reallly hard at being two -- the birthday is only two months, one week and five days away, after all -- Adam rebelled against pick-up time, too, and in the process of putting the scarves away stuck his head into the scarf bucket -- a metal popcorn tin. Except he hit the side of his eye on the edge of the tin and put a nice gash in the side of his left eyebrow.

Remember if you will just shy of two years ago, when Adam was a mere week old and Mark took a header off the church pew and put a hole above his right eyebrow.

Yes. I am now going to have a matching pair, I suppose.

*For those of you who wonder, while Tim was on the phone with the insurance company's nurse line, Adam was sitting quietly on my lap and watching a Thomas movie (turned on to distract him) only getting mad when I had the audacity to hold ice on the owie, which wasn't actively bleeding at the time, simply gaping. It's a 1/4-inch gash with smooth edges, and there's swelling on the edge of the browbone area. He'll be fine.

Returned from the hospital, Adam just wanted to cuddle Mommy -- or play -- but definitely not go to bed. He got glue and is fine. :)

Today was a very special day. My dear friend Anne came by with her new son, Aaron, who arrived this month. It has been a long journey for them -- Anne, Andy and Aaron -- to become a family, and I feel like I've had a front-row seat.

I cried back in March when she called and told me that the adoption people had called, and that, surprise of all surprises, their child, for whom they'd waited for all this time (they'd been in "the system" for over two years) was a boy! (Okay, so everyone who knows me knows that I'm soppy anyway.)

So today, Anne and Aaron stopped for a visit and lunch. The boys got along wonderfully, and Adam was very excited to have someone to show stuff to.

"Look!" Adam says, showing Aaron yet another exciting toy.

At one point, all three of them started doing laps around the dining room table, and since Aaron doesn't walk yet (he's working on it), all three were making the laps on all fours. It was cute.

Mark, for his part, was nervous about meeting his new friend, but discovered after Aaron had come and eaten with us that he was all right. "I know you, Anne," he told her. "I like you." This echoed some of the things I told him while he was waiting for Aaron to arrive. "You know Anne," I told him. "You like her. You'll like Aaron, too."

I'm looking forward to seeing the boys growing up together and being friends.

Yesterday was the last day of MOPS, and they brought the bigger kids in to sing a song for the moms.

I noticed a certain boy standing taller than all the other kids but one (who's 5). We came home and measured him on the growth chart in the hall. In the last year, Mark has grown 3 1/2 inches.

Adam has grown an inch since February, too, which isn't too shabby.

AND, on the last day of MOPS, as he was being turned over to the Toddlers' teacher, Amanda, he stuck his hands out to her. AND he gave hugs to her and the other girl who is the teacher in his class, Chelsea. After a whole year of crying when I left him, he finally decided it was fun...

Also titled "In Which Mark Rides a Tractor with a Seed Drill and Adam Wraps Grandpa Marv Around His Little Finger"

We had a nice evening with friends, and then Grandpa and Tim took the boys home while I hung out with the friends longer and gabbed. When I got home after 9 p.m., Grandpa was all excited. "Mark got to ride in the tractor! Adam and I went out looking for him and he had gotten a ride with the farmer!"

I could still hear Mark upstairs talking so I thought I'd get the story from him.

He was nowhere near asleep. He was sitting up in bed talking to his dad about the event, and when I came in, he had a lot to tell.

"The tractor came through the part where there are no trees, and I got to ride in it. I was a little crunky, but Daddy wanted to ride, so he held onto me. The seed drill was a little loud. It made the whole tractor and seed drill shake. The farmer's name is Seth. He's planting corn." Tim asked what he planted last year. "Soybeans. They didn't do so well. But then it rained." Apparently the rain salvaged what was about to be a lousy crop last year. Also apparently, Mark remembered everything the farmer had to say.

What happened was that while Grandpa was giving Adam an extended goodnight cuddle, Mark (already in his pajamas) and Tim went outside to see the tractor that was planting in the famous field behind our house. Unfortunately, the tractor got kind of far away, so they walked all the way to the trees (a long way) to see it. The farmer got out to check his seeds and saw them, and asked if they wanted a ride. Mark wasn't sure (big surprise there) but Tim convinced him to get in (they both did) and the farmer gave them a ride. Mark wanted more. Finally the farmer came back to this end of the field and dropped them right by our next-door neighbor's gate. In the meantime, Grandpa and Adam had come out looking for them and found them, and got to see the tractor too.

So it was back upstairs, and Grandpa cuddled Adam some more while Mark finished bedtime. Adam was still jumping in bed and shouting, so when Mark finished telling me the story, I went in and told Adam to go to sleep and started his music again. And shut the door. He got mad, and, like a trained seal, up came the spoiling-machine. "Can't I rock him?" Grandpa asked plaintively.

"Oh all right," Tim said, seeing the next week after Grandpa is gone as some repair-time for the sleep habits of someone little who's taken to being cuddled by Grandpa every night. But Grandpa's not here very often for spoiling, so we let it go...

But Grandpa is starting to see through him.

"I think, fine, I'll rock him, and he'll go to sleep," Grandpa reported as he came downstairs. "But no. He wanted to read a book!"

Fortunately, this time, Grandpa didn't give in.

P.S. The whole deal was a great way to blow bedtime!

This morning Adam is wearing a new hand-me-down shirt from his brother.

It's a size 3T.

(He can wear 2Ts just fine, but we don't have that many of them, because there's almost no difference between the 2T and the 3T in size.)

His pants are size 18 months, and they're rolled down at the waist to keep them up and to keep him from tripping on them.

In other news, he came over to me, said "potty" and grabbed his diaper. Then I smelled it. Instead of going to his bedroom to get his diaper changed when we got upstairs, he went to the bathroom and wanted to sit on the potty. The deed was already done, but I let him sit there anyway.

Are you kidding me?????

It was once again time for a haircut. Adam's little trim from before just wasn't good enough, and the little fly-aways around his ears were about to make him fly away. So it was time for Daddy's clippers to take care of the job.

Adam was, to say the least, not amused.

He ended up gripping me for dear life while Tim very carefully wielded the scissors, trying not to put out my eyes in the process. Even watching Bob the Builder didn't help the distress.

Nor did being finished.

Afterward, he got cuddled on my lap, sans hair-covered clothes, for a little while, and then he was okay to watch a little TV while Mark got his hair cut. Mark, of course, is an old hand.

But I do have the "after" evidence to prove that this time, yes, there was a haircut, and it was not all wonky.

At church on Sunday, one of Mark's friends said, "Mark! I almost didn't recognize you! You got a haircut!"

It wasn't that much of a haircut!

That's what Mark told me today at lunch. I'm not sure why. I mean, the guy who installed our new water heater (that would be Tim) -- he's amazing. The pediatric dentist and hygienist -- they're amazing. Mark, shortly after a temper tantrum? Not amazing. Mommy, for not hauling him to his room and locking the door? Yeah, maybe.

Tim got the hot water heater installed last night so I could have a shower this morning AND do dishes. Hurrah and hurrah. Praise and glory. All sorts of gushing in his honor. I am just happy to be able to bathe.

Mark got to go see Dr. Chad again. (No pictures of the cute dentist this time; sorry kids.) Dr. Chad was very impressed with Mark's good teeth. I think he'd already done a bunch of fillings this morning. He actually carried on a little about how nice Mark's teeth look. Perhaps there are a bunch of other three-year-olds running around our town with cavities and drinking pop and sugary drinks and not brushing their teeth every day. Adam also charmed the hygienists by saying "Brush" a lot of times. They gave him a toothbrush too, even though he didn't have a checkup. (That front bottom tooth, supposed to be the first to erupt, finally came through, so I stopped fretting.) Adam sat and watched as Mark had his checkup -- in the big boy chair, no less, with sunglasses on -- enthralled. He got rave reviews for being sweet. Both boys gave Dr. Chad high fives and Mark gave him a hug too. I like taking Mark to the dentist. It's an ego trip to hear him praised. (That, and I told Dr. Chad that my husband had his first cavity when he was 30, and Dr. C said that when I turn 30, I might have one too. Oh yeah, right, but go ahead....)

I hear questionable noises from the living room where both boys are and I am not, so I'd better go see what's afoot. Oh yeah, and eat some lunch. Boys are done with that, of course.

Amid drizzle and snow and a nasty wind that kicked up while we were out there, the boys attended our neighborhood's annual Easter Egg hunt with a generous handful of other children whose parents were just as nuts as we were. We wore coats and hats and still mostly froze our "bippies", as Grandma Sarah would say.

As you can see, the "field" was open, and there were plenty of eggs for the "Three and under" crowd to find, in a safe and less-muddy place than the rest of the park (I think a parent came up with this some years back). Mark, an old hand at the Easter Egg hunt, took off with Daddy, while Mommy stuck with Adam to help him learn how the whole thing worked.

Adam finds his first egg. He finally did pick it up and put it in his basket -- then immediately took it out and put it back on the ground.

He got the hang of it, gathering up two at once!

In the meantime, Mark branched out for some "harder" to find eggs. This photo explains why at least one egg had wet leaf and a dead worm on it.

That blurry black thing? That was the rock that Adam collected, along with his eggs.

Mom, it's cold and I'm ready to be done. Is this enough?

There were many more eggs that children, and in the three-and-under section, organizers were begging people to take more than the "10 per child". Mark obliged.

Frozen thoroughly, we got back in the car and went home to check our loot.

I believe that someday, some year, it will be warm for this thing.

I was in the kitchen working on something when I heard the words of our new favorite library book, The Mighty Street Sweeper.  Mark was reading it to Adam.

(That's Adam saying "Cheese" when the video first starts.)

"The BULLDOZER pushes things out of its way" (image shows the bulldozer moving a big bunch of rocks)
"The street sweeper goes around things that get in its way" (shows the street sweeper going around a skunk)

"The MOST POWERFUL TRUCK" (supposed to be "electromagnetic crane") can pick up a two-ton automobile!"
"The street sweeper can pick up a gum wrapper."

P.S. Tim asks that you include in your comment whether the video looked ok and worked for you.

It was a little busy this afternoon as Adam took a break to have his mullet trimmed:

It was hard to sit still, but he did it, aided by the cookie in his left hand. There is not a good "after" picture because, well, I'm not so proud of it. It seems someone has a cowlick at the base of his skull. But at least there's not a whole ton of hair curling out under and around his ears.

Then, Mark and Daddy tightened the kitchen chairs (see the Noblesvillain later for pictures), and Adam "helped." Update: Tim has now posted the pictures and story; go see it there.

Then Adam got a turn with the tools. Later he would say "Cheese!" for the camera, but here's a candid while he enjoyed the tools.

.

We always laughed at some of the pictures the Noblesvillain's mom took of him as a small child -- standing on the piano keyboard pounding on the top of the old upright piano, standing on the toilet lid pounding on the tank, standing on the ladder... you get the idea.

Well. The Noblesvillain has been taking a few pictures, too. Good thing Mommy wasn't around...

Hmmm, if I climb up here, I might be able to get onto the table...

This is what the boys do in the kitchen when mommy's not around (as opposed to the dishwashing found here). Yes, that is a drawer that is open right beside Adam's head. A drawer that he and his brother systematically emptied, as I understand it.

Ah-ha!!! Adam says as he reaches in again. "But they were playing so nicely!" their father protested. "They weren't fighting!"

Well. There's that.

And then there's this:

 and

Yeah. Such an angel. Dad, put down the camera and make him get down! (Actually, Tim was supervising closely, and the last was the only way to get him to smile for a picture. And no small children were harmed in the taking of these photos.)

Mark was feeling complimentary this afternoon at lunchtime.

"Thank you very much, Daddy, for making lunch."
and then...

"I'm very proud of you."

(It's better than some of the other attitude that he's been showing off lately.)

In other news...

Jonathan and Mark shared a book -- Jonathan "reading" -- before Jonathan had to leave from their little-bit-late Christmas visit.

And Mark and Adam wore the shirts Grandma AJ got them last summer.

It's not easy getting two boys to sit together nicely without a parent or two holding them down and without things getting a little rough, even if kissing is involved.

Happy 2008, everyone!

Happy New Year to everyone, even those who had to stay up all night with their sick little boys.

The same little boy then spent the next day on the couch. He's headed for bed now. I have hopes of sleep tonight. I think I'll be in bed by 9.

Here's hoping this does not predict anything for 2008 and what it has to offer.

Perhaps you didn't even notice I was gone, but I was... and now I'm back.

We had an extended visit to Laryy's Chicking Wranch while the Tim was off galavanting around Europe, and we had a few adventures, which means I have a few pictures to share...

So. We went to The Children's Museum of Evansville (cMoe), which was okay but didn't really appeal to my boys a lot. There were a bunch of nice activities for rather older kids, and a few fun little kid activities. And the scoop you see here. There was also a terrifying water activity room and a climbing structure that the decision-making boy wouldn't even look at. Oops. Maybe in a few years.

Mark helped Grandma make special cookies to measure how many days until we would go home and until Daddy comes home. Apparently someone forgot to tell him that three-year-olds are lacking very fine motor skills as he is completely adept at removing the cap from a bottle of food coloring, squeezing the right number of drops into the dough, and then putting the cap back on and turning on the mixer.

Oh yeah. And washing dishes.

And rinsing. Clearly Grandma was in charge of this activity. Actually, Mark was. Grandma was just doing what she was told. :)

The other news of note (no pictures included) was that we only had ONE bathroom accident the whole time we were there, and he only slept in a Pull-Up one night (clean). The only accident was when we didn't put him on the toilet one night in time. But. Wow. He's wearing big boy underwear to bed right now as we speak, AND in the car all the way home. Wow. I hate to make definitive statements about success or failure, but I'm pretty sure he'll start junior high completely toilet-skilled.

The other boy had a blast having Grandpa (also known as "DUM-pa", not to be confused with "DUM-pa", dump truck) around to play with. He walked around talking up a storm, playing with everything, trying everything out, not eating well (mm, shocker...), sleeping better thanks to the crib Grandpa found at a garage sale and paid for with real money... He had a lot of fun, too, and even gave Grandma some cuddles. Adam is nowhere the cuddler that Mark has always been, but he found a few big hugs for everyone while we were there.

And just in case you thought you'd seen enough cuteness...

Hey Ma, look at ME!

So it took a little while to share with you our Halloween joy...

We're still dealing with a computer issue here and there, I'm afraid. However, without further ado...

That's a firefighter, a dad, and a lion. You get to choose which is which.

Then we have the pumpkins...

Clearly, a backhoe. Done by Daddy.

A lion, done with a pattern, by Mommy. (Did I mention Daddy drew the backhoe FREEHAND?!?!)

Firefighter Mark is prepared to fight the fire, should it get out of control.

Said upon leaving the carwash (where he didn't cry, though his brother did):

"Toys don't get scared. Because they don't have faces."

Yesterday I played the role of the small-town resident. After a morning meeting at the Prairie, I dropped off a newsletter to be printed, and then, since the boys were with Daddy, decided to do a little shopping -- in my own downtown.

My first stop was the Noblesville Antique Mall, which this time, had items I wanted.

The Dunce almost got a "vintage" Noble Roman's Monster pitcher -- orange plastic, complete with feet -- except that I was concerned that in their new home, the Dunces may not have a suitable place for displaying it properly. (Dunce, if you think perhaps it would go perfectly in just the right spot, let me know; it might still be there if I go back.) I did find what I thougt to be a terrific Christmas gift for him. Yes. I'm shopping for gifts. Hey. I don't get out much to a place like this without kids.

The gift I found for Mrs. Dunce was actually at the same place as Mr. Dunce's, which made it easier for the person with the keys to the case. Now you know they're amazingly expensive items, being displayed in a locked case!

Once I was finished with that -- with a few oldey-timey photos because I like them so much -- it was off for lunch at the Logan Street Marketplace (a chicken curry sandwich and pasta salad) with a hot chocolate from Noble Coffee & Tea (conveniently located next door, with an entry between the two). Umm, yumm all around.

I visited the Logan Village Mall and wandered about -- there was one booth with a ton of cute little Christmassy things that I would never have a place for -- and saw one of my former Prairie youth friends and at least said hello.

Then I popped into The Wild for some nephew-shopping. No, not buying nephews. But Jonathan and Andrew MIGHT be getting presents from said store for Christmas...

I felt quite proud of myself for patronizing the fine businesses in our downtown. It was fun, the weather was nice, and I found some good stuff.

The dumpster's in the there
The dumpster's in the there
Hi-ho-the Derrière
The Dumpster's in the there

Knock Knock!

Who's there?

Apple!

Apple who?

Apple BOY!

Yes, Mark told that one from start to finish. Could you tell? The next person to make fun of me for my "baby didn't see the light" punchline is in trouble...

Yesterday during Sunday School I had to retrieve a teacher from Mark's class for a quick skit in church. When I peeked in, I saw Mark in the circle with the other children singing a song, his hands in front of him, side-by-side, palms up, fingers curled up, and I suspected he was making the familiar "Bible" motion.

So later, I asked him what song he sang with his hands like that.

In a slightly tuneless form, he sang:

The B-R-B-L-E
Yes That's the book for me
I stand alone on the Word of God
The B-R-B-L-E!

Then there was a little poem about the Bible verse, which I don't remember, but which he also nailed. (There was no spelling involved.)

Hurray! Mark is learning Sunday School songs! Thank you, Mrs. Day!

Hey gang, just in case you wondered, Mark's THREE now!

We spent the day celebrating his "birfday"...

Havin' some birthday cake (new birthday skid steer close at hand)...

Got a new tractor with disc attachment and wagon.

Got a car carrier. Got some books. Got a steam roller and a Bob the Builder and some puzzles and a tent...

Grandma Sarah and Grandpa Larry and Brian and Tara and Jonathan and Andrew were here. Daddy took a vacation day from work. It was a good time for all. Now the cousins are gone home, the boys are in bed, the dad and grandpa went off for a haircut, and I have a minute to blog. Sigh. Tired out. But happy birthday to the boy!

Mrs. Dunce was apparently disappointed that the photo I included showed none of her finery.

Of course I did it to spare her feelings, and to avoid pointing out that, though the Dunce says that her sister might have had an unusual smile as a child, we wouldn't know about the future Mrs. Dunce, since she chose not to smile for her photos. And so I offer you, the future Mrs. Dunce in her finery:

(my apologies for the photo quality; the scanner isn't hooked up, so I had to use the photograph-the-photo method.)

Sorry also for getting distract by this post and following the link it provided. Now back to my commentary.

And so. Now the photographic evidence of Mrs. Dunce's fashion at a young age...

Now I need to know what I owe Roberta-in-law (mother of Mrs. Dunce).

Amanda gets the big house...

While Heather-in-law is relegated to the hard life of a pioneer.

Even then, the future Mrs. Dunce was no fool. "She always did have champagne tastes!" says her mother. Which, of course, is why she hooked up with the Dunce in the end.

It may not be my fabulous silk -- gee, Roberta, what were you thinking in depriving your daughters??? ha ha -- but the pictures were a hoot, and the Noblesvillian and I agree the young ladies in question grew up just fine despite the shocking upbringing. Taking them to an olde tyme place! Dressing them in old clothes! SHOCKING!

I used to pride myself in being weird. Those of you who knew me when... (yeah, that's most of you) can attest to this.

Apparently, my kids are following in their mommy's footsteps.

This is baby Adam's mouth. Well, the side of it. I know, it looks brutal; I promise he wasn't as miserable as he looks.

If you look carefully on the left side of his mouth (top) -- his right -- you'll see a tooth. This, my friends, is Adam's first tooth. I thought when it emerged (started emerging, so it now seems) that is was the canine, or cuspid, tooth.

No. It has further emerged over the last month. I have located it on the chart (below) (borrowed from here). It corresponds with the letter B. Yup. That's the first molar.

He's working really hard on his top front teeth ("Central incisors"); one is all the way through, though still a sliver, and the other is mostly through. You can only see the edges of them.

Yeah. My kid's first tooth was his molar.

The Big Boy is off to school today, and Adam's in his nap, and I thought I'd document the moment:

Mark, with backpack and lunchbox, ready for a day of excitement!

Gee, Mom, can't you hurry up?

Finding the spot for his backpack.

What should I do first? Hmm. I think I see a car to play with!

Naturally, he was totally excited, though he told me on the way that if he missed mommy to "tell Mrs. 'Nita and Nicole." :) I'm am sure if he tells them, "I miss Mommy," they'll fall over in shock. (I will too.)

Now I'm waiting for the concrete mixer to arrive with the concrete for our new porch (same as the old one, except not sagging toward the house and without the monster front step). I have to document that so the boy who's at school can see all about it...

On our recent weekend trip to Grandma's House and Grandpa's House (as Mark calls it), Adam decided to butter up the ol' grandparents by doing something notable at their house. Besides getting two new front teeth (almost)...

and then...

.

Yup. That was by himself. And once he took a couple steps (from Grandpa to Mommy and back again), he suddenly took off, walking all over the living room and around behind the chairs so he could get to the electronic keyboard.

Yep. Adam can walk.

Today was Mark's first appointment with the dentist and he did a GREAT job!!!!

He got his teeth brushed and checked in a little office (not the big dental chair), sitting on my lap, and then when he got done, he got to go in the back and sit in the big dental chair and have his picture taken.

He also had his picture taken with the dentist, Dr. Chad.

(Yes, Dr. Chad is supposed to be old enough to practice dentistry. And there is a grown-up dentist in the office, too, with real gray hair, though we didn't see him. And just to the right on the counter there (that you can't see) is a picture of Dr. Chad and his family with three little kids, so apparently he is actually a grown-up.)

BUT. I digress. Mark was very very good. He didn't even act worried or like he was at all nervous. He opened his mouth up and did just what the hygienist and dentist told him and was just as good as could be! Oh, and he got an A+ for his great teeth!

 (Here he is pretending to open wide, since he'd already had his exam!)

(Name the source of the lyric and earn a reputation as a coooooooool person...)

I flicked a cicada off the window screen during breakfast so we could eat without having to look at a scary bug, and Mark looked at me and said, "Mommy, you're a hero!"

I'm glad he thinks so now.

In another story, he spent breakfast making up stories about "Grandma Crazy". I think she might be roughly based on another of his Grandmas, but only roughly.

What does she wear?
"Not a uniform!" (Turns out she wears only a diaper.)

Where does she live?
Docco, "not Kentucky" and Daddy's work.

What does she do?
"Not play with Mark. Cook. Fix supper." (I'd like it if she would just be my maid.)

What else does she do?
Plays on Mark's fort.

Does she have any pets?
A dog. A huuuuuge brown dog.

 A Little Boy got to join his mommy for a couple of hours at our olde tyme town. We were having a special Civil War weekend (a very quiet one, compared to the earlier one), and the Boss said young Master Adam could come by in his historical clothing.

He mostly wanted to just go watch the pigs (see the fence in the background).

He walked around with Mommy. He was cute and people loved him. He wasn't quite as outgoing as his brother was at his first visit to the Prairie in the same olde tyme clothes. (Remember?...

Mark with mommy, left, but taking of with Laura. P.S. He still likes Laura an awful lot, even though she's far far away.)

But he got to be cute, and he had fun, and he DID get to flirt with the girls from the Young Ladies Living History Society of Cincinnati, who were our guests at the event. He made a couple of particular friends from that group. Yeah, and he decided to hold hands with someone else's mommy -- not letting go of his own mommy at the same time -- and I thought maybe she'd have to join our family before it was all over. But he got to be cute and that was nice.

Author's Note: As a result of the below comment from Heather-in-law, I am willing to pay good cash money or prizes or admiration for photographic evidence of her and Mrs. Dunce in historical clothing of any level of cuteness. This offer should also be extended to the mother of the ladies in question.

Or... how many degrees of separation?

The other day I was visiting the blog of my friend Chuck (also linked on this page as Dr. Chuck Pearson). Chuck had cross-posted a piece that he'd posted on the site Growing Up Goddy.

I went to the site, and fully enjoyed all of the posts I read. Pretty cool site, and I've marked it in my favorites.

One of the sites linked on 'Goddy was Kamp Krusty. Naturally, with a name like that, I had to go see. The name of the fellow who writes the blog sounded a little familiar. It was made more familiar when I saw a reference to it on 'Goddy, where Chuck mentioned the guy's previous involvement with a band whose name I recognized. Ah-ha! I scrolled down Kamp Krusty's links to find what I expected: my brother darin. No, not my brother, his. Darin was the youth minister at the church I attended during my glorious year of employment in the field of my college major in a town quite far away though only one state away. He and his wife were a breath of fresh air -- and friendship -- until he took a job in Indianapolis and moved away. (Oh, and they let me use their house to do laundry while they were gone.) 

So I visited Darin's blog for a while, and came across on his blogroll a name that was also familiar, for different reasons. Brian Eberly is a pastor who sometimes visits -- and links to -- my brother The Thief (yes, this time it is my brother).

And My Brother The Thief links to me.

(I could make this longer by saying that my brother the thief links to Big Mama who then links to the Dunce who then links to me, but that's just making things complicated.)

The band that the Krusty guy was in, incidentally, was Farewell to Juliet. Tim mentions that he wrote a lot of newsletters for the Rose-Hulman chapter of InterVarsity to the music of Farewell to Juliet. So we've just drawn the Noblesvillian in, too.

Somebody had a birthday today! Here are a few pictures from the day, with more words when people aren't waiting for me to play a game...

Mark helps Adam unwrap some presents in the afternoon.

Yummy cake!

Fun presents, shared with fun friends.

Happy Birthday! We love you!

Hello Gentlemen, as Mark would say, and welcome to our newest destination, Fort Markadam!

 Dad has told the story on his own website. I will just embellish...

It was built by the Dad and the Grandpa, with a little help from Mark and dog.

There's a wall to climb...

and a slide to slide.

 (At the moment, there's even a Grandma to watch in amazement.)

There are fun swings for both boys.

And a spyglass to watch for tractors.

Won't you come to our fabulous destination?

I personally am not a big fan of the way the last couple of weeks have been going. The boys and I made a trip to one set of grandparents' in Kentucky (since most of my readers were actually there, this is not news), and  now the other set of grandparents is here, and the boys' tempers are very, very "off." Adam decides in mid-bite that he doesn't want to eat that anymore (whatever it is), and Mark screams and refuses to do anything. I think the excitement has them completely over-wrought. Add to it that Daddy and Grandpa M are building a swingset in the back yard, so I don't have much of a break. I know. I don't have a break when Daddy's off to work. But they don't act like this either...

And I have a hoop to finish before the 25th (before then, really) that is missing a bunch of parts. (Ericka, if you're reading this, do you know where they are?)

And a newsletter that I have to get done soon.

And donors to find and tickets to sell for a terrific event in September to raise money for Riley (anyone want to buy a ticket? They're only $5).

But the title refers to something else.

The first full day Grandma and Grandpa were here, Mark was in the yard and told them, "I'm not a fan of big bugs."

Yeah. Me neither.

No, we're not the latest in a series of "wrong person receives a credit card" stories...

We were at Grandma Skelly's house the other day and she had made a card for Mark and Adam. Later that evening, Mark got out the card and showed it to Grandma Sarah, who was visiting.

"I got a new card," he told her, showing it to her. "It's a MASTER CARD!"

Don't ask me who's paying the bills.

Mark pointed out to me that a nice lawn chair had been left outside in the rain, so I went to bring it in.
When I returned, he asked, "Are you a good helper, Mommy?"
I think I was.

Last night we were all happily sleeping when a really HUGE crash of thunder woke us. It woke Mark too, who screamed "DAAAAAAAA-DEEEEEEE! The thunder scared me!" I was proud of him for clearly articulating what the trouble was, especially in light of the other times he wakes up screaming and is incoherent.
Immediately upon Daddy's arrival in his room, he said, "Toy?"
I followed Daddy into the room. He was holding the trembling little guy (the thunder was really loud), who told me also that the thunder had scared him, and then he asked me for a toy. I thought he wanted a toy on his shelf or under his bed. "What toy do you want?" I asked, expecting the typical "Mommy pick" or whining.
"James," he answered without hesitation.
Here it's the middle of the night, he's just been scared out of his wits, and he knows exactly which toy he wants.

Now, mind you, the little brother slept through all the hubbub -- the lightning and thunder and accompanying screaming and shouting. Good little sleeper (this time). Actually, he'd already been up twice in the night before this happened. So it was all good.

Speaking of the little brother, Adam can now walk by himself with his little walking toy. He loves it, and loves to go back and forth across the living room with it. He just laughs and laughs. He walks until he crashes into something immovable, and then (usually) waits until I turn him and the toy around, then goes back. Back and forth, back and forth. There are lines in the carpet, sort of like the ones the vacuum cleaner or Roomba leave, except without the benefit of it being clean now. Oh well. (This toy we got free from a neighbor when Mark was learning to walk. He loved it, too.)

I also am the hero as I cleaned out the Noblesvillian's car last night. He was worn out, so I took on one task. In cleaning, I found a few lost items and put a few other things back into useful places (the car registration, not just sitting in the back seat, for example). AND -- the Noblesvillian is such a hero, because he managed to repair the gas-tank door, which has been broken since winter! I am always nervous when he takes apart things that a factory put together (like a car), but he popped off a few pieces of trim and got the piece out that opens the trunk and the gas tank door, and fixed it! Hurray! Now if only that jerk at his work hadn't dinged his door (he knows which car is yours...), it would be as good as new. :)

Oh. The other random story I sent to some of you already.

A few weeks ago, Mark and I were playing outside and he kept talking about the tractor coming to our field (behind our house) to harvest the wheat. I kept telling him, "No, not yet, but soon."
Actually, the tractor was in the neighboring fields; by the end of the day, our field was harvested.
Some days later, Mark and Daddy were at home and Mark informed Daddy that the tractor was in the field with the seed drill.
"Okay, buddy, whatever you say..." (You hate to contradict the boy who is certain.)
Yesterday I noticed green growing in between the rows of harvested wheat. I went to check. Soybeans. Darn if he wasn't right.
According to our friend Greg, who is a big-brain for Pioneer, "The wheat harvest was earlier than normal this year so lots of the farmers around here are trying to 'double-crop' soybeans this summer. This rain is just what they needed too, so with more heat this summer, they should get a good second crop by October."

Greg also complimented him, saying he was a smart kid, and most people wouldn't have a clue about such things...I have to admit that the kid's MOTHER would be among those who wouldn't have a clue... (And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what you get when you let your kid read books, the darn things!)

First of all, it's happened. I've threated for several years to do this in some form or another (at one point threatening to get it for Big Mama and then ask to use it a lot) but now it's happened...

Gertie has become a part of my home. A lady in town had a whim and bought her a couple years ago and hasn't used her. She's advertised her in the paper a few times; finally, today, I saw her in the classifieds. $30 beats regular prices of close to $200, I think. So if it's just a whim for me, well, I'm not out that much...

And. Just when you thought it was safe to ask questions...

The other night I called Mark in for supper. As he came in from the family room, where he'd been playing with trains, he said, "I need a new diaper." (sort of like Grandpa disappearing into the bathroom when Grandma called us all for supper when we were kids and they were "dad" and "mom".)
"You do?" I asked, surprised that he'd even mention it. Usually he doesn't care.

"I can't sit in my chair with a nasty ol' yucky diaper while I eat," he replied. Duh.

Oh. Yeah. And Adam can go up the stairs.

Yup. Up the stairs. All the way up. (I'm not that bad of a mom -- I was right behind him. After about three stairs.)

Can you imagine my surprise at hearing those words, just out of the blue? Perhaps you can imagine that I could imagine why I was hearing them.

A few moments earlier, Mark pointed out that some of his trucks weren't put away. This morning was not a good morning. Many things got put away when he went on a rude spree, disobeying the Mom, ignoring her, not taking turns with Adam, and, finally, kicking Adam in the face when he tried to use his brother to stand up. Like I said, many things got put away.

So when he pointed out that some of his trucks didn't get put away, I reminded him of why the others were. And that he needed to do things when Mommy tells him to.

So I checked a couple of blogs, went in to stir supper (Chef Jenny conquers Hamburger Helper), and came back, and, with angelic eyes and voice, he approached me.

"I'm sorry, Mommy."
"For what?" I asked.
"For being dis-'bedient," he replied.
"Thank you."
"I want the trucks back."

What? You mean that wasn't just a heart-felt apology brought on by true remorse and that's all?

"May I have the dump truck?"

"May I have the bucket truck?"

He gets Doggy back if he's nice the rest of the evening.

Pastor Mom tagged me on this a couple days ago. After the computer ate my first work-in-progress, I finally finished it.

Enjoy...

1. I have to post these rules before I give you the facts.
2. Each player starts with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

So… My random things…

1.      I love to write when my brain lets me. My novels, all hard to categorize except under the heading “Jenny’s”, will probably never be published, but I write them for my own amusement. And they’re all better than The Enigmatic Fugue, the grand piece of literary brilliance several of us started many years ago, inspired by, well, a "great" author. (I still have it, in case anyone wants to resurrect it.)

2.      I have a compulsion to finish books once I start reading them. I almost never put one down without finishing it. But this week I did. I found this book so dreary, depressing, and dull that I gave up. I didn’t care what happened to these down-on-their-luck characters. Sorry Oprah.

3.      When I can’t sleep, I organize my thoughts alphabetically… verses and sayings, songs and song lyrics, names and adjectives. Most of the time I don’t get past the middle of the alphabet.

4.      Anyone who knows me very well already knows this, but I have a serious mistrust of the telephone. I don’t call people. It doesn’t even cross my mind to call people. If I think of it, I might do it, but I don’t. Is it because Big Mama has always hated the phone? Is it because The Dad carefully itemized the phone bill and charged us for any calls (plus tax and fees), meaning we had to admit when we’d called someone, which was more embarrassing if it was a boy (egads!)? Is it just because I’m a freak? Only the phone knows, and it’s not telling. (And this is why the pay-as-you-go mobile is a good idea for me. Except for the weird text messaging issue.)

5.      Yes, it’s true, my favorite stuffed animal that I had to sleep with every night for many many years was named after my brother (the Thief). Baby Brian was actually a series of stuffed animals, originally dogs (sans plastic collars and ears, which I immediately ripped off), but ultimately a ratty bear-ish animal that lasted some eight years.

6.      My favorite ice cream is raspberry fudge cordial. It is yummy. The Thief can attest to that, too, as can Mrs. Thief, and now that Big Mama can eat ice cream again, I’ll take her to Alexander’s and get her some, too.

7.      My favorite sound is hearing Mark and Adam laughing in the car, usually when we’re driving on a hilly road. The benefit of one facing front in his carseat and the other facing the rear is that, in effect, they sort of face each other and egg each other on. Fortunately for now, that’s to laugh more. When they’re up to no good, they won’t be in baby seats anymore (I hope).

8.      No thanks to sandy beaches; I like shores strewn with boulders. Preferably with woods along them, too. And water that’s doing something, not just sitting there. (Sandy beaches just have sand that sticks to your feet – a nod to the Thief and his opinions – and creepy things living in them. Don’t tell me anything about rocks; I have already imagined the things living in the crevasses.)

Okay. Who do I tag? I don’t usually have eight people to send on these errands. Repressed Librarian is already doing this over at her place. I’m fake-tagging her because my list is short. J
Big Mama, of course, gives you a reason to gratuitously talk about yourself. 
Thief, if you have nothing better to do
Andrea, who is still in hiding – I mean, your 2-year-old is out of the country right now! Stop the partying and do this one! J
Baby J! Your mom tagged me!
(Add yourself to the list if you want to do this! Just leave me a comment so I know to keep an eye on you…)

is what I asked Mark this morning.

He suggested (as if expecting me to say, "oh, not today, but sometime...") "Go the Children's Museum?"

I said, "Okay!"

Adam played with some blocks and stuff.

Mark drove the skid steer (which he was looking forward to before we even got there. "'Member the skid steer, Mommy?").

We all rode giraffes on the carousel. (Well, two of us. The third held the smaller one on and tried to convince him it was fun.)

And Mark played pretend, making an ice cream treat at the soda fountain and fishing in the water.

Adam the mighty crawler has discovered that he can open the cabinet doors. This one is the one we let him get into.

Hmm. He reaches in.

and in...

and in.

He closes the door.

He opens it again, and then looks to make sure I'm still watching.

Pretty soon there's a nice array of Gladware spread across the floor. And the enameled bowls that Mrs. Dunce so wishes I had found again so she'd have some now.

and finally, he comes over to check in and make sure I'm still enthralled.

This afternoon when I went to get a certain Adam out of bed, this is what I found.

Yes, that is a happy boy!

And then there's the creative one...

After biting a hole in the lunchmeat and peeking through it (all that's missing is "Look what I got at the turkey farm!"), he built a boat. Hmm. Must be my kid. He was quite proud of it, I might add.

We're back from our week's vacation at Lakeside, Ohio. The kids had a wonderful time playing together -- and we had a great time, too. The house we were in was just terrific, and the town is really nice. :)

We played in the park, rode the bikes -- I don't have a picture of Mark on the back seat of the bike, which he liked, but I do have Andrew and Adam in the trailer. Which one didn't like it?

He did a little better with the wagon. He also did better in the trailer later on.

Mark loved playing in the sandbox at the park and spending time with Jonathan. They play so nicely together, sharing and all that.

We also got to make a trip to the legendary Kelley's Island, namesake of the Kelley Island cake, much beloved by the clan in 1886 Liberty Corner at my museum. We rode bikes over to the ferry and then spent the day (sans kids, thanks to Tara) riding around, seeing scenery, having a good time all around. These are the Glacial Grooves at Kelley's Island State Park.

And we made another bike ride (all 8 of us) to Marblehead Light, just up the road...

More stories on Tim's blog; see them here.