So proud of my B!

B was selected by his teacher to be a student ambassador. Two kids are picked from each class (the other ambassador from B's class is one of his two best friends, Joel). According to the permission slip I just signed, B will "develop leadership skills through representing the school at two evening events in the next two months, serving as an interview candidate for articles and photos submitted to local publications, and serving as a host and tour guide during new student visits in the spring."

This Wednesday, he and Joel have decided to wear ties when they lead parents on tours of the school before the school's "Share the Vision" night. We're going necktie shopping after school tonight!

I shouldn't really be surprised that he was selected, given how our first parent-teacher conference went last month. His teacher told me that he is far ahead of all the other students in the class in math, and she believes he is gifted in both math and language. I'm so glad we chose this school for him! I think the attitude of the school and the Montessori approach will really help him both do well in and enjoy school.

So please pardon my boasting, but I am just so proud of that kid that I could explode!

Did you ever do this?

I can't believe I forgot to tell this story here. This actually happened almost two weeks ago. B, Z and I were baking some bread, and after I put it in the oven, I put the kids at the table and gave them a snack. B had fruit snacks. They're smaller than your average fruit snack, diamond-shaped and probably about 1/4" long on each side. Well, about two minutes into the snack, B suddenly started screaming hysterically.

I rushed over to see what was wrong. "I put a fwuit snack in my nose, and now it won't come out! Waaaaaahhhhhh!!!!!" I stifled my laughter, and laid him down on the floor. I shone a flashlight up his nose; no sign of a fruit snack. Then I did what our friend Michael said their pediatrician told them to do when their son stuck a bean up his nose (they didn't find out until his breath started to stink & they took him to the doctor to find out why): plug the nostril without the fruit snack in it, and blow in his mouth. I did this hoping a fruit snack would shoot out the other nostril, but no such luck. So I called the pediatrician.

As soon as the bread was out of the oven, we shuttled over to the pediatrician's office, just five minutes away. She looked up there with a light and didn't see anything. By this time I was beginning to doubt the existence of a fruit snack in his nose, but I kept mum. The pediatrician said it was better to be safe than sorry, and sent us upstairs to an ear, nose and throat specialist. He looked up B's nose with all sorts of fancy instruments, and reported that there was no fruit snack in that nose. After all that drama, it was too late to cook dinner, so we hit the OK Coyote for burritos and a nice big margarita for Mommy.

I must admit, when I was around his age (4), I once stuck a Kraft mac-n-cheese noodle up my nose, just to see what would happen. After a panicky few moments during which I realized it's hard to get a noodle out of your nose just by blowing (the air goes right through the tube!), I got it out without notifying the babysitter. I believe that was the last time I stuck anything up my nose. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it.

How about you? What did you put in your nose when you were little, and how did you get it out? Now remember, this is a family-friendly blog, so I don't want to hear about anything you might have put in your nose in your teens or twenties!

Long night

First of all, I have to say that I find it funny that I got more comments on my "strep, pinkeye and lice" post than any other post so far (except maybe some from when we were in China). Funny in an odd way more than a ha-ha way. But at least I got a volunteer to come over & comb out the lice if we get to that point. No lice so far though.

Poor Z, and M by association, had a terrible night. I don't know what's going on with her. It started with naptime yesterday afternoon. She normally takes really outstanding afternoon naps, like 2-2.5 hours without a peep. But yesterday she only made it about 40 minutes before she started screaming. I got her quieted down a couple of times, but I don't think she ever fell asleep again.

The same thing happened last night. With the exception of that one week she was sick not so long ago, she's normally a stellar sleeper. She goes to bed around 7:30, and we don't hear from her again until at least 7am. But last night she woke up screaming at midnight, then again at 3:00, 3:30, and 6:15. I may have missed one between 3:30 and 6:15 too. And when I say "woke up screaming," I do mean screaming. She sounded angry. Like a combination of crying and yelling. On the rare occasions she wakes up during the night, she rarely gets that worked up, but last night, she went from asleep to raging screams, with no warm-up in between.

Z tries to look innocent, like a baby too sweet to scream through the night

What's up with that?! She didn't have a fever, so I don't think she's getting sick. I'm wondering about teeth. Could she be starting to get her two-year molars? She's not even 18 months old yet, but she did get all the rest of her teeth early. She had everything but those molars at 15 months. B was an early teether too, but I don't think he was that early.

Anyway, poor M was on Z-duty last night. We take turns, and on Thursdays, he's supposed to get up. The poor guy only got about 3 hours of sleep he said. I was up some at midnight and 3-3:30, but that doesn't compare. B slept through the whole thing. He can sleep through anything.

So I think I'll try a little Tylenol at naptime today, to see if that helps her sleep. In the meantime, I'm trying to psych myself up for a day of screaming and head-flinging (that back-arching, head-cracking thing she does when she's mad). B was hoping to go to the park this morning, but it's not a nice day. I'm thinking of a rec center with a sweet indoor playground instead. I may be crazy to take her out in public today, but I'd rather have a mostly happy baby with one or two public meltdowns/hissy fits than a bored, fussy baby all day long in the house. Wish us luck.

Creative B discovers a way to color with four sparkly markers at the same time

I'm baaaaack

It's been a crazy, psycho blur of a week. There's been no time to do a blog post. This is the best I can do -- a quick rundown of what's been going on around here:

Last weekend we had 60 degree weather, so we took B to the zoo. I learned that the zoo carousel (or is it a merry-go-round? the zoo train engineer tells you about the difference as you pass by it on the train and I know I've heard the spiel at least twenty times, but apparently I don't really listen) goes abnormally fast, as I was unable to get a photo that was both (a) not blurry and (b) had both M and B's heads in it. Why did M ride the carousel? Because it makes me so dizzy I feel like I'm going to hurl.

We wound up a fun weekend by roasting marshmallows over a backyard campfire. We got a patio fireplace from my parents for Christmas but hadn't been able to use it yet because every single day since Christmas it's been snowing, freezing, incredibly windy, or some miserable combination thereof. Note the cool after-dark view of downtown that we have from our backyard. It's much better at night, when you can't see the brown cloud.

On Wednesday this week, my work friends threw me a baby shower. Cake and presents, always a good way to spend a Wednesday afternoon at work! It was fun and very sweet. The women all sat on one side of the room, and oohed and aahed over all the darling girly clothes I held up as I opened gifts. The men sat on the other side of the room and oohed and aahed rather sarcastically, if you ask me. But I didn't mind, really. It was nice that they came. Men showing up for a shower at our office is a rare event.

Also on Wednesday, I went to the doctor and got a fistful of prescriptions for our trip, including antibiotics for all three of us and a goody bag full of Ambien samples so we can sleep on the way to Hong Kong.

One last thing. The best thing, actually. Today I went to work for a few hours and took B with me. In the car on the way there, he counted all the way to 100, with very minimal help from me! Very impressive. He tried to convince me that he was the only person in the whole wide world who could count to 100, but I didn't buy that. We finally settled on the idea that perhaps he's the only 4 year-old person who can count to 100.

My countdown clock: 16 days to Zhi Yi -- WOW!!

Smart cookie

(Photo left over from November -- I know the pictures are the real reason the grandparents come here, but I don't have a new one.)

We've been wishing B would learn to read. M & I both love to read, and hope to pass that on to B. And frankly, life would be a lot easier if B could read for, say, ten minutes? Enough time for me to maybe wash the dishes or, god forbid, have a moment of quiet time in the house. But he has shown very little interest, and we haven't been pushing it.

Then last night, two things happened that astonished me: first, he looked at my sweatshirt and said "Mommy, that blue shirt you're wearing says the same thing as that gray shirt you were wearing yesterday." Whoa. He was right! He didn't actually know what it said, but he totally recognized it. (In case you're wondering, it said 'Kansas.' Rock chalk Jayhawk!)

Then just a few minutes later, M was reading him his bedtime stories. He was trying to show B how when you spell a word, you have to name all the letters in order. He has a habit of picking random letters off a page of the newspaper, yelling them out, and asking what it spells -- think "Hey Mommy! What does W-Y-H-F-R-L-M spell?" Then he gets pissed off when I either say the nonsense it spells ("wifferlim," in this case), or tell him it doesn't spell anything. So anyway, M was asking him to name the letters in a word. B got cranky and starting whining "But I don't WANT to spell that word. Just READ, Daddy!" M said "OK, I just thought you might want to know how to spell 'boy' since you are a boy." B replied "Duh Daddy. It's b-o-y."

I think he can secretly read and is hiding it from us. Crafty little devil.

Totally unrelated, random thing that made me laugh yesterday: We were driving back from my parents' house & passed a hay field. B yelled out "Hey, look at all those big huge clunks of hay in that field!" Some people call them 'bales.'

Thank you Nana & Bumpa!

I took B shopping with his Christmas money at a KILLER toystore a few days ago, and here's what he chose:

A humongous bin of race car tracks, which can be put together in an infinite number of ways (it expands dramatically on a starter kit we gave him for Christmas)

A new race car & a motorcycle to go with the track (they have to be a certain kind to work right)

A rocket that you fill up with water, pump up, then blast off

Bathtub fingerpaints

A stuffed Garfield toy (he saw the first half of the Garfield movie a week ago and thought it was the funniest thing he'd seen since "Surf's Up." We'll have to rent it for him so he can see it all)

A deck of BrainQuest preschooler quiz cards

A pink and purple stuffed unicorn for his baby sister

A lollipop (that's what he's holding in his hand)

We'll put the money he has left in his savings account for him.

He really chose all of this stuff himself, and had a lot of fun doing it. He's enjoyed every single thing since he bought it too (except for the rocket -- too cold out for that!). Thank you!

Evolution

A random list of signs that B is evolving from a caveman/toddler into an actual human:

Today when I was putting B in his carseat after school, he kicked me in the head (the evolution story is coming, I promise). I said ouch, he said sorry, and I thought that was that. Then a few minutes later, he asked me if I knew what "checking on somebody" meant. I said "Yeah, it means asking or looking to make sure someone's OK." Then he said, "Mommy, are you OK?" I was touched--he was still thinking about the kicking incident! I told him I was. The next question floored me. "What can I do to help you feel better?" Whoa. What happened to my three year-old? I told him just saying he was sorry he kicked me and not doing it again would be enough to make me feel better. Can it be that the stuff they're teaching him at school is actually sinking in?!

Today he brought home this artwork from school:

I had no idea he'd matched up the numerals and counting like this, or that he could draw such nice pumpkins and apples! This new preschool class rocks.

Last night B had his first soccer class. He's been super-pumped about taking soccer. He occasionally wears the shinguards around the house:

These pictures may create the false impression that he grasped the concept of dribbling. Actually, it's all about kicking the ball as far as he can for B.

Last but not least, a gratuitous cute B picture, just for the grandparents (I know you're visiting! You should leave a comment...):

PS - M has an idea for a post he thinks would be cute & funny. I'm trying to convince him to do a guest blog. Help me lobby for this -- leave him an encouraging comment. He's very funny, I promise.

This kid is not normal

I bought a head of broccoli to steam for dinner. B saw it on the counter and said, "Wow! Thanks Mommy!" The kid loves broccoli. Whenever I make it, he asks for seconds. If he sees it in the store, he begs me to buy it. Tonight, he grabbed the whole head, ripped off a chunk, and scarfed it raw. Then he asked if he could eat the leaves. I said sure, and he tried them but found them less tasty. Finally, he took a big chomp out of the stem and ate it, then went back for a second bite. Not normal. I attribute it to the fact that I fed him nothing but organic, whole-grain, fresh, dirty hippy homemade food until he was almost two. Then he started eating the preschool-prepared meals, and that wrecked everything. But he still has good instincts. What an amazing kid he can be.

The wound fingee

This morning at breakfast, the Bee looked at me and asked, "Mommy, what was that wound fingee [round thingee] Michael gave me to eat yesterday?" I wasn't sure, so I asked some questions: "Where did he get it?" "He lifted me up and I took it off the plate." "What did it taste like?" "Yummy." This wasn't getting us anywhere, so I said I didn't know. Surprisingly, there was no fit of rage.

Some time went by, maybe 15 minutes or so. Obviously he'd been thinking about this. So he said, "Mommy, c'mere. I wanna show you something that looks like that wound fingee Michael gave me to eat yesterday." He said it was "in the gween box downstaiws." Well, this time I knew what he was talking about. These are the bins where we keep art supplies:

The green one on the bottom is where I keep my stuff (the bins are heavy & he can't lift them, so I'm hoping my non-washable paints are safe from him there). I lifted the top two for him, and he went through the green one but came up empty-handed. "Maybe it's in the red one?" I asked. He nodded, and I lifted up the top one so he could go through the red one. He pawed around in there, shaking his head, then his face lit up, and he held up this, saying "It looked like this mommy!"

Anyone want to guess what the round thing was that he ate last night? I'll give you a hint: we were at a 4th of July potluck. It's something that pops up at nearly every potluck I've ever been to, in the appetizer section. Anyone?

OK, I'll tell you. Unfortunately I don't know what they're called, but you take a tortilla, spread stuff on it, then roll it up & slice it. It looks exactly like that "wound fingee!" Anybody have a recipe for these? Apparently the Bee likes them quite a bit.

And how smart was that, figuring out how to give me the clue I needed to figure out what he was talking about?!