Call It What You Want...

After getting up frightfully early starving and stuffed up, Adam went back to sleep yesterday until...well, blissfully late. I was getting laundry out of the dryer when Mark heard Adam start to make noise and announced, "Mark check on Adam!" and ran upstairs.

When I arrived upstairs, Mark was standing on the rail of Adam's bed, holding onto the top and peeking over, and Adam was chirping gleefully at his brother. Mark proudly told me that he had checked on Adam.

Fast-forward to breakfast time. Mark, having already eaten, had disappeared to the living room to play. Adam happily ate a good large portion of barley cereal, and then I let him sit in his high chair and gobble Cheerios while I dashed in to check my email.

Mark, ever the helper, returned. "Mark help!" he said. Then, "Need more!" (I should have been in there, then, but was dealing with an issue...) Then, "Uh-oh, 'pilled!" That was finally enough to get me to come in and check.

Mark had decided that Adam needed more food. He had climbed up on my chair at the table, gotten the barley cereal box, and dumped (as opposed to "poured") a great deal of cereal into the small bowl from which I'd fed Adam earlier. Then he'd taken the small cup of water we keep on hand to mix the cereal and poured what was left of it into the bowl. It didn't turn it into yumminess, as there wasn't enough (hence the "need more"). And more barley cereal didn't solve the problem, either, but made it a bit worse by spilling on the table (hence "'pilled").

"Oh NO!" I said as I discovered the situation. "Mark, Adam doesn't need to eat more! I already fed him."
Mark began to cry. "Bed!" he sobbed.
Then I stopped. "Oh, sweetheart, you're not in trouble. I shouldn't have left these things out, and you just wanted to help. I can clean it up, and everything'll be just fine."

I apologized to him for having left things out and thanked him for wanting to help. I hugged and kissed him and sent him off to play while I cleaned up. The still-dry cereal flakes went into a plastic container to save for later (somewhere in the area of HALF THE BRAND-NEW BOX), while the little wet glob in the bottom, Adam got to have for lunch.

(I took the pictures to prove to him that he wasn't in trouble. It took some convincing.)

We turned it off for a couple of days. This was mostly because I wanted to throw open the windows and let the outside in and didn't want to risk it getting down to 66 in here and kicking the furnace on. I wanted the inside to match the glorious outside...

The past two days were beautiful. The temperatures were in the 70s even. It was glorious. We spent a lot lot (as Mark would say) of time outside -- trips to the park, playing on the front porch, playing in the back porch, playing in the backyard in completely waterlogged sand, going for walks and playing with Corbin (the super-nice 8-year-old across the street)...

This morning we got up early (well, someone else has been having a little adjustment issues with DST) for music class and it was not glorious anymore. I mean, it is March, after all. Yesterday was 77. This morning (and still now, at noon) it's 37. And I had to turn the furnace back on.

Why is it that even though the furnace has been running all winter long, when it takes a couple of days off, it smells dusty?

Here are my questions from her (and answers). If you’d like me to make up some questions for you, let me know in the comments, and I’ll email you questions to answer in your blog.

1. If you could go anywhere on vacation, without considering practical things like money and logistics, where would you go?
   This is tough, because I am not sure if I would want to go somewhere *new* like an African safari or Alaska or Antarctica, or if I would go back somewhere I’ve been like Japan (as a guest of Japanese people, who are always soooo hospitable when you’re their guest, rather than off on my own without a guidebook or any idea of what to see) or Russia or a loooong visit in Great Britain, which would include London (again) but add places like Bath and Scotland and more museums with fabulous old clothes.
2. What is one of your favorite guilty pleasures?
   The really horrifying one that will just disgust 98% of my blog readers is America’s Next Top Model, which I will not even link to just so people have to work to see just how low I go. But it is SOOOO hilarious, I can’t resist. And the people on it – from the producers, hosts, and judges to the contestants – are such shallow, insipid and freakish people that it’s like a train wreck that you just can’t stop watching.
3. If you could acquire a skill or ability that you do not currently have, what would it be?
   I suppose I would like to be more fit – but I would like to “acquire” this and not have to work for it! J
4. What inspires you?
   Two things: good scenery (places like Cedar Campus or Snowshill Manor) and good writing, like Madeline L’Engle.
5. What was your favorite or most memorable class in college and why?
   My favorite class might have been Russian History, which is funny because it wasn’t in my major or minor, but just something I picked up on the side. I liked it because I was getting ready for a trip to Russia the next summer, so the topic was something of interest, and because the professor, Richard Gawthrop (here’s a shout out) was extremely knowledgeable on the subject, taught virtually without notes, and made a very complicated subject interesting.

After a couple weeks of only liking cereals -- rice, barley, and oatmeal -- today Adam decided to try a change.

After a milk-lunch a little earlier (and a power nap on the way home) he ate 2 bowls of barley cereal, about a cup of Cheerios (one at a time), a third of a #2 container of sweet potatoes (previously greeted with a decided lack of enthusiasm), and about a third of a #2 jar of peas (previously rejected).

He would have continued eating Cheerios indefinitely had I not decided he'd had enough and washed face and hands and taken off the rather soiled bib.

Hey, Mom, why don't these Cheerios come off like the ones on the tray do?

turn this on by himself now. (It's the Fisher Price Ocean Wonders Aquarium, older style.)

Every morning this week, Daddy has heard noises from Adam's room before Mommy is even out of bed. Several times he's asked me if I went in and turned on Adam's music. I have not.

This toy hangs on the side of his crib. He has learned how to flap his little arm around sufficiently to hit the blue button and turn it on. He loves it, and if he's turning it on at 7 a.m. but I don't have to get up and feed him until 7:30 (or later), it's even better... Especially since this week we haven't had to get up in the night either. (Deep sigh, hoping it lasts.)

In other news, it's been four days since Mark said goodbye to the last pacifier, and he might actually be napping today (for the first time all week). It's quiet up there. I just took Adam to his room, and Mark's room was quiet. It's not been the best week ever. Sigh. Auntie Mel got to witness the chaos yesterday.