Call It What You Want...

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?????

We went to MOPS today, and Adam didn't cry a single little cry.

Not even a whimper.

When it was time to drop him off, he actually stuck his arms out to the girl who watches him.

(Deep sigh of utter relief.)

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.

In fact, no one in our house is.

This is me, making sure the kids have clean spoons and plates for breakfast. (I had to heat the water on the stove, and we don't have as big kettles to heat it in as we do at the Zimmerman Farmhouse.) I'm even wearing a blue apron.

The water heater went out -- it's been limping along for a while, but since we already spent our home improvement budget for the year, we hoped it was just being finicky -- right as Tim was leaving for St. Louis for a couple days. Last night he and the boys went to Sears and bought

but he was short some of the necessary tools, so the actual installation has to wait until tonight.

Brrrrrr.

Today, after they finished lunch, Mark shouted to me from the living room, "Is it naptime?"

I wondered if he was already tired. "I don't know. Is it naptime?" I asked him.

"It's only noon," he replied, as if I was a fool.

I glanced at my watch. 12:01. Geez. Too bad he can't tell time.

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We took a little walk before naptime (it was only noon, after all, and Adam was cranky) and stopped off at the house with the rocks by the sidewalk. The boys love to play with the "rock lady's" rocks. Today, the Rock Lady's daughter was leaving, and she stopped to say hello. Apparently, the boys met her already. Mark even asked what she was doing there. I mean, it's his rock lady, after all.

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I have one dress finished but for the hem, a daycap finished but for the ties, an apron and petticoat finished, and a dress bodice in process. I have another dress and daycap "on deck", plans to start another friend's stuff once her life settles down a little bit (and I get some of this cleared up), request for a corset for a long-time corset wearer whose corset is falling apart, and a project for another museum (but they don't need it until fall).

I have peely and blistery fingers and a great sense of accomplishment when I get even a part of it done. Like "Wheee! I just attached piping!" Simple things make me happy.

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Then there's Adam. We played "ou-si" this afternoon and he collected sticks and rocks and dumped sand on the ground and wandered around saying "yuck!" and wanting his hands wiped off. He practiced saying "wwwwww-wock!" as he showed me a rock. He stuck a stick in his mouth. He ate dirt and sand. It was a good time.

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Mark and I planted sunflower seeds from Grandma Sarah. Hope they come up!

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Eh. Yeah.

It's spring.