Connor has been obsessed with money for some time now, and I don't mind it at all because the little dude can spend a lot of time counting coins - which is time he is sitting still, quiet, and happy. I appreciate all of those things sometimes. He's mostly obsessed with the Penny Arcade at TDBank, which is a big coin counting machine that sits inside each TDBank. Prior to dumping coins in the machine, you guess the value of your coins. If your guess is within $1.99 of the total, you win a prize. Because of the aforementioned counting, Connor always wins a prize.
I instituted a rule that he had to have at least $10 in coins before I'd take him to the bank, and basically now I spend a lot of time with Connor begging me for coins, and then Connor lamenting not having enough to go to the bank.
Because of Helen's Social Security number problems, I didn't open up a bank account for her when I opened Connor's account. Although a second identity might prove useful in Helen's later life, I didn't want the hassle of having more official documents with the wrong name. On Saturday, Helen made use of her newly minted SSN and I opened an account for her. On the bright side (for her), Connor will no longer pilfer all her money. On the downside (for me), now there are two coin seekers in the house.
Every time Connor and Helen visit my dad, he gives them quarters.
Just a little warning for you, Dad, for our upcoming trip. A few days ago, Connor announced to Helen:
"Helen - we're going to visit Grandpa Rodney soon. He always gives us more quarters!"
And, because the two of them think alike, Helen instantly chimed in with:
"Yes, Connor! And then we can to go to TDBank to get more prizes!"
If this bank goes out of business, blame my kids for squeezing them for beach balls, band-aids, coloring books, crayons, and a bajillion other prizes they've scored in the past couple of years.
Elaine
Showing posts with label siblings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label siblings. Show all posts
Monday, June 27, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Thursday, December 9, 2010
Organizing your people can be so hard
Connor and Helen are most definitely a team, and they've tried many times to move from the status of parnters in crime to union with power. Unfortunately, the leader of the union is regularly thwarted by the younger member of the union. Yesterday after lunch, they were getting ready to rally. They had banned together, had started to create general chaos, and then the younger member of the union stopped and said "Wait, wait, wait, Connor! What are we mad about?".
Back to the drawing board.
Elaine
Back to the drawing board.
Elaine
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Unionizing
On Monday, Connor and Helen attempted to form a union. They would've been more successful had the younger member of the union not come downstairs and asked:
"Mommy, can you give me a Tupperware? I need to put some candy in it so if you give me a no treat consequence night I can have candy anyway because I'm hidin' it in Connor's room where he hides his candy."
"Sure, Helen. Just choose one that's the right size for you."
And then, of course, the older member appeared giggling nearly uncontrollably, letting me know exactly where I should not be looking in his room.
Management decided he could keep the candy in his room for a few days, because it was so funny to see the two of them working so well together for a common cause.
Even if the cause was pure evil.
Also, I know Connor will enforce strict rationing of the booty.
"Mommy, can you give me a Tupperware? I need to put some candy in it so if you give me a no treat consequence night I can have candy anyway because I'm hidin' it in Connor's room where he hides his candy."
"Sure, Helen. Just choose one that's the right size for you."
And then, of course, the older member appeared giggling nearly uncontrollably, letting me know exactly where I should not be looking in his room.
Management decided he could keep the candy in his room for a few days, because it was so funny to see the two of them working so well together for a common cause.
Even if the cause was pure evil.
Also, I know Connor will enforce strict rationing of the booty.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Sleeping Double in a Single Bed
Do you remember that old Barbara Mandrell song, Sleeping Single in a Double Bed? Well, my kids don't have double beds, they have twin beds*. And they think it's perfectly fine to be sleeping double in them, even though they are clearly made for sleeping single. How do I know this? Because a few days ago, when the DC region was struck by an earthquake (dramatic pause), only one member of our crew even bothered to notice. I did, however, meet two people who woke up to the earthquake a few nights ago, and they said they thought some military jet was flying overhead, in case you wondered what an earthquake measuirng 3.6 on the Richter scale feels like. All I know is that it wakes a toddler who then needs assistance blowing her nose, and would like a little song and pat on her back as well. I have no recollection of actually hearing or feeling the quake.
No surprise, Ed slept right through it. He's gifted in the sleep department. He can sleep through a child standing at the top of the stairs singing "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy - I need to go potty" as he did about two weeks ago when Helen got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. He can also sleep through his son crying because the filter on the fish tank went awry, and it sounded like a train was in his room. It even scared me when I went up to see what the crying was about. I thought a fish was going to be caught in the filter, and I was not going to deal with that because I do not like the fish one bit. And it's totally Ed's fault we have them, which means he has to clean up any fish tragedies (of which there have been none, to date). I unplugged the thing and crossed my fingers that no fish would attack me as I got near the tank. Ed sleeps so well, in fact, that I often accuse him or responding "what kids?" when I elbow him in the middle of the night and request he go up and take care of whatever issue is causing me to be awoken by Connor or Helen. Seriously, dude can sleep.
Connor also slept through it, or at least didn't alert me to his being awake. I would have slept through it had Helen not alerted me.
But what happens whenever I go up to tend to the children in the middle of the night? They request I sleep with them. In their twin beds. There's not a lot of room in there. And while Barbara Mandrell might have been worried about the tossing and turning in her double bed, I assure you, other than the threat of falling of, there's no danger in the twin bed. If I do comply with the request to sleep with my children, which is actually somewhat rare, I prefer to hold their hands or pat them on the back until they have drifted back to sleep, I end up waking up with the worst pain in my hip ever. This is a result of nursing Connor endlessly while lying down at night on my right side. I'm all about nursing while sleeping, but it has totally wreaked havoc on my hip. FOUR.YEARS.LATER.
I was smart enough to purchase my own King sized bed when I was shopping for a new bedroom set with Ed a couple of years before we had kids. Because I knew the little buggers would try and crowd me out of any reasonable sized bed. But I didn't have quite the foresight I needed when it came to their bed purchases. Perhaps in a few years, I'll make the move to bigger beds, or at least trundle beds for both of them. Of course, by then they might not be calling me into their beds at night.
*Full disclosure. This post was inspired by CSN stores, which turns out to be a huge conglomeration of internet stores, including a Toys and Games store. In exchange for linking to their bedroom furniture, I'll be receiving a gift certificate to use in their stores. I'll let you know what I choose to purchase. It's a huge site, with tons of toys.
No surprise, Ed slept right through it. He's gifted in the sleep department. He can sleep through a child standing at the top of the stairs singing "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy - I need to go potty" as he did about two weeks ago when Helen got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. He can also sleep through his son crying because the filter on the fish tank went awry, and it sounded like a train was in his room. It even scared me when I went up to see what the crying was about. I thought a fish was going to be caught in the filter, and I was not going to deal with that because I do not like the fish one bit. And it's totally Ed's fault we have them, which means he has to clean up any fish tragedies (of which there have been none, to date). I unplugged the thing and crossed my fingers that no fish would attack me as I got near the tank. Ed sleeps so well, in fact, that I often accuse him or responding "what kids?" when I elbow him in the middle of the night and request he go up and take care of whatever issue is causing me to be awoken by Connor or Helen. Seriously, dude can sleep.
Connor also slept through it, or at least didn't alert me to his being awake. I would have slept through it had Helen not alerted me.
But what happens whenever I go up to tend to the children in the middle of the night? They request I sleep with them. In their twin beds. There's not a lot of room in there. And while Barbara Mandrell might have been worried about the tossing and turning in her double bed, I assure you, other than the threat of falling of, there's no danger in the twin bed. If I do comply with the request to sleep with my children, which is actually somewhat rare, I prefer to hold their hands or pat them on the back until they have drifted back to sleep, I end up waking up with the worst pain in my hip ever. This is a result of nursing Connor endlessly while lying down at night on my right side. I'm all about nursing while sleeping, but it has totally wreaked havoc on my hip. FOUR.YEARS.LATER.
I was smart enough to purchase my own King sized bed when I was shopping for a new bedroom set with Ed a couple of years before we had kids. Because I knew the little buggers would try and crowd me out of any reasonable sized bed. But I didn't have quite the foresight I needed when it came to their bed purchases. Perhaps in a few years, I'll make the move to bigger beds, or at least trundle beds for both of them. Of course, by then they might not be calling me into their beds at night.
*Full disclosure. This post was inspired by CSN stores, which turns out to be a huge conglomeration of internet stores, including a Toys and Games store. In exchange for linking to their bedroom furniture, I'll be receiving a gift certificate to use in their stores. I'll let you know what I choose to purchase. It's a huge site, with tons of toys.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Happy 59 Months, Little Dude
Dear Connor,
I know I've said it before, but stop the clocks. You are going to be 5 - FIVE, in just a few weeks. FIVE. That seems impossible, because five seems like such a big kid number, especially since you could be heading off to public school come September. But because I just can't imagine you crossing that threshold, you'll be in Kindergarten at your beloved Waldorf school, and I know already it will be a fantastic year. You'll have the same wonderful teacher you had last year, and almost all of your crew is returning, which is a good thing. I hope you will treasure the time you'll have with this group as much as I treasure the thought of you having it.
You have spent the last few weeks showing how utterly reasonable you can be. Except for on the car ride home from Chincoteague, but you were exhausted, and sad that our fun vacation was ending, so I forgive you that one. Helen and you fight like cats and dogs sometimes, but other times, you two are the best of friends. Take, for example, a few nights ago when there was a whale of a thunderstorm. You and Helen remain convinced that your room has less thunder, so she piled into your bed with you, and she hugged cat all night, and you hugged her. It might rank as my most precious moment relating to parenting the two of you to date. I almost photographed it, but I was afraid I'd wake one of you up, and I don't like the idea of waking two perfectly happy, sleeping children.
Your swimming continues to improve. Now, you almost have a legitimate stroke. And really, it's not even scary at all to watch you jump off the diving board over, and over, and over again. Tonight though, we were at a friend's pool party and I did have to end your time on the slide. You must have gone off that thing 50 times, and I was starting to get worried you were just too exhausted to swim safely to the side. You protested, of course, but then had a fun time swimming around with other kids.
Rules.Rules.Rules. You love making them, love slanting them in your favor, and get super annoyed when I overrule you or Helen ignores you. Chill out, dude. Life is short. You also tend to think the world is out to get you sometimes, and probably it is some days. But most days, you live on easy street.
You play with your stuffed animals a lot, and often have a very elaborate animal hospital with animals with all matter of injuries or illnesses. Lucky for them, you seem to be pretty adept at fixing them.
You're a thoughful little guy. Tonight, you insisted we bring a pitcher of lemonade and a cucumber to share at the brithday party we were attending. Both went over quite well. It's always nice to bring a little something to the host.
I love our afternoons together. You've started napping a bit lately, but I think that's just because the heat is so draining. Most of the time, Helen naps while you enjoy a book or craft project. It's nice to spend time alone with you. One day, we even went to our first Broadway style show and that was really quite fun. I'm curious what you'll think of the show at the children's theatre we frequent next time we're there. It will certainly be quite scaled back. But, it will also be with friends and something that will be much more easily digested.
Oh, and how could I forget this? We went to see THOMAS THE TRAIN. It seems like ages ago now, but when we spent the week in Kansas, Thomas the Train was there, and against my better judgment, we went. You can thank my friends with older children for that, since every one of them told me it was fantastic. What was not fantastic was that it had poured the day before, and the Thomas event was in a huge mudpit by the time we got there. In fact, we borrowed Aunt Linda's car to get there, and it got stuck in the parking lot. And since all of the volunteers in the parking were at least 80 years old, your dad ended up pushing the car out by himself. The car (and your dad) were covered in mud. That might have been the last time Aunt Linda allowed us to borrow her car, in fact. Lucky for us, we were all pretty clean because Grandma had brought a towel, so we stopped at a water pump to clean up while Dad was fetching the car.
We also went to our first opera! Nancy Faber wrote an opera for children based on the story of the Snow Queen. She played flute, her husband, Randall Faber played piano, and a real opera singer sang. It was really cool, and might have been your dad's first opera as well. You sat through the whole thing watching intently. Aunt Linda is a fancy dan in the community of Kansas and Missouri piano teachers, so she invited us to attend this performance. The Fabers are well known for their innovative approach to teaching piano.
Time is really starting to race, Connor. I'm glad I have you to run through it with.
Love,
Mommy
I know I've said it before, but stop the clocks. You are going to be 5 - FIVE, in just a few weeks. FIVE. That seems impossible, because five seems like such a big kid number, especially since you could be heading off to public school come September. But because I just can't imagine you crossing that threshold, you'll be in Kindergarten at your beloved Waldorf school, and I know already it will be a fantastic year. You'll have the same wonderful teacher you had last year, and almost all of your crew is returning, which is a good thing. I hope you will treasure the time you'll have with this group as much as I treasure the thought of you having it.
You have spent the last few weeks showing how utterly reasonable you can be. Except for on the car ride home from Chincoteague, but you were exhausted, and sad that our fun vacation was ending, so I forgive you that one. Helen and you fight like cats and dogs sometimes, but other times, you two are the best of friends. Take, for example, a few nights ago when there was a whale of a thunderstorm. You and Helen remain convinced that your room has less thunder, so she piled into your bed with you, and she hugged cat all night, and you hugged her. It might rank as my most precious moment relating to parenting the two of you to date. I almost photographed it, but I was afraid I'd wake one of you up, and I don't like the idea of waking two perfectly happy, sleeping children.
Your swimming continues to improve. Now, you almost have a legitimate stroke. And really, it's not even scary at all to watch you jump off the diving board over, and over, and over again. Tonight though, we were at a friend's pool party and I did have to end your time on the slide. You must have gone off that thing 50 times, and I was starting to get worried you were just too exhausted to swim safely to the side. You protested, of course, but then had a fun time swimming around with other kids.
Rules.Rules.Rules. You love making them, love slanting them in your favor, and get super annoyed when I overrule you or Helen ignores you. Chill out, dude. Life is short. You also tend to think the world is out to get you sometimes, and probably it is some days. But most days, you live on easy street.
You play with your stuffed animals a lot, and often have a very elaborate animal hospital with animals with all matter of injuries or illnesses. Lucky for them, you seem to be pretty adept at fixing them.
You're a thoughful little guy. Tonight, you insisted we bring a pitcher of lemonade and a cucumber to share at the brithday party we were attending. Both went over quite well. It's always nice to bring a little something to the host.
I love our afternoons together. You've started napping a bit lately, but I think that's just because the heat is so draining. Most of the time, Helen naps while you enjoy a book or craft project. It's nice to spend time alone with you. One day, we even went to our first Broadway style show and that was really quite fun. I'm curious what you'll think of the show at the children's theatre we frequent next time we're there. It will certainly be quite scaled back. But, it will also be with friends and something that will be much more easily digested.
Oh, and how could I forget this? We went to see THOMAS THE TRAIN. It seems like ages ago now, but when we spent the week in Kansas, Thomas the Train was there, and against my better judgment, we went. You can thank my friends with older children for that, since every one of them told me it was fantastic. What was not fantastic was that it had poured the day before, and the Thomas event was in a huge mudpit by the time we got there. In fact, we borrowed Aunt Linda's car to get there, and it got stuck in the parking lot. And since all of the volunteers in the parking were at least 80 years old, your dad ended up pushing the car out by himself. The car (and your dad) were covered in mud. That might have been the last time Aunt Linda allowed us to borrow her car, in fact. Lucky for us, we were all pretty clean because Grandma had brought a towel, so we stopped at a water pump to clean up while Dad was fetching the car.
We also went to our first opera! Nancy Faber wrote an opera for children based on the story of the Snow Queen. She played flute, her husband, Randall Faber played piano, and a real opera singer sang. It was really cool, and might have been your dad's first opera as well. You sat through the whole thing watching intently. Aunt Linda is a fancy dan in the community of Kansas and Missouri piano teachers, so she invited us to attend this performance. The Fabers are well known for their innovative approach to teaching piano.
Time is really starting to race, Connor. I'm glad I have you to run through it with.
Love,
Mommy
Friday, July 16, 2010
Yes, she has gotten older. Happy Months 32 and 33, Helen
Dear Helen,
You still light the world with your smile. A friend was over a few nights ago enjoying Bastille Day fireworks, and she noted that she loved how kids are like pressure cookers all the time. Everything is just.so.exciting! Tonight's excitement was fireworks, but really, it can be anything. And with you, this is doubly true. When we went to Kansas last month, we made our familiar trek to Worlds of Fun. It was even more fun this year, because you're just a little bit bigger and enjoy the rides just a little bit more. How it can be thrilling to ride around and around in a circle (and it's different if the object you're riding changes, even though it looks astonishingly similar to me) is actually beyond me. But everyone in our family found it impossible not to be excited when you went by waving. Look, no hands!
Shockingly, you seem to have grown a few inches. You're still the tiniest person in the world, but now you're just a little less tiny. Trust me on this one, Helen, tiny can be good. All your life people will offer to help you, even when you don't need it, just because you will always look like you do need it. It's not necessarily a bad thing.
You love the water. Which is good, because the weather has been hot around here, and that means twice daily trips to the pool - once before lunch, once after dinner. And that adds up to a lot of hours in the pool, which have resulted in you actually learning how to propel yourself as far as one breath will take you. Twice, I have witnessed you take a breath and keep swimming, but you definitely don't have that quite figured out. You're in what I consider to be this super dangerous phase - you think you can swim, but you actually can't, which empowers you to thrust yourself from the steps toward me with little notice at times.
You observe everything, Helen. Your super power seems to be remembering the color of everyone's eyes. A friend of mine shares this super power, which is the only reason it doesn't freak me out much.
You continue to show that you are a very clever little girl. You follow the letter of the law, if not the spirit. Take, for example, the other day when you wanted to drag many toys with you to pick-up Connor from camp. Your babysitter told you that one was enough. You chose cat. And then, according to you, CAT opted to bring a few other toys.
You can keep up with Connor at times, but most of the time he whizzes by, I pause, and then you come throttling through. Once he stops, though, you love playing with him. In fact, when he's sitting at dinner dragging it out endlessly and making me want to be anywhere except at the dinner table, you will cry if he is told he needs to hurry in order to get to go the pool, or play, or whatever the activity of the night is. You'll sob "but I want to play with my Connor", who you actually call "sweetie" quite a bit.
You observe everything but can't see a thing. Often, you'll come to me asking where a toy is, I'll tell you, you will go stare directly at it, and then you will return emphatically announcing that it is not there! I then go pick it up and you hand it to me and you say "oh, thanks!". I find it simultaneously cute and annoying.
I wish you would eradicate the words and phrases "No", "I don't want to", "No I didn't", and "I don't like" that soon. It makes me nuts to hear you chant these all day. Especially when you mean none of them.
Love,
Mommy
You still light the world with your smile. A friend was over a few nights ago enjoying Bastille Day fireworks, and she noted that she loved how kids are like pressure cookers all the time. Everything is just.so.exciting! Tonight's excitement was fireworks, but really, it can be anything. And with you, this is doubly true. When we went to Kansas last month, we made our familiar trek to Worlds of Fun. It was even more fun this year, because you're just a little bit bigger and enjoy the rides just a little bit more. How it can be thrilling to ride around and around in a circle (and it's different if the object you're riding changes, even though it looks astonishingly similar to me) is actually beyond me. But everyone in our family found it impossible not to be excited when you went by waving. Look, no hands!
Shockingly, you seem to have grown a few inches. You're still the tiniest person in the world, but now you're just a little less tiny. Trust me on this one, Helen, tiny can be good. All your life people will offer to help you, even when you don't need it, just because you will always look like you do need it. It's not necessarily a bad thing.
You love the water. Which is good, because the weather has been hot around here, and that means twice daily trips to the pool - once before lunch, once after dinner. And that adds up to a lot of hours in the pool, which have resulted in you actually learning how to propel yourself as far as one breath will take you. Twice, I have witnessed you take a breath and keep swimming, but you definitely don't have that quite figured out. You're in what I consider to be this super dangerous phase - you think you can swim, but you actually can't, which empowers you to thrust yourself from the steps toward me with little notice at times.
You observe everything, Helen. Your super power seems to be remembering the color of everyone's eyes. A friend of mine shares this super power, which is the only reason it doesn't freak me out much.
You continue to show that you are a very clever little girl. You follow the letter of the law, if not the spirit. Take, for example, the other day when you wanted to drag many toys with you to pick-up Connor from camp. Your babysitter told you that one was enough. You chose cat. And then, according to you, CAT opted to bring a few other toys.
You can keep up with Connor at times, but most of the time he whizzes by, I pause, and then you come throttling through. Once he stops, though, you love playing with him. In fact, when he's sitting at dinner dragging it out endlessly and making me want to be anywhere except at the dinner table, you will cry if he is told he needs to hurry in order to get to go the pool, or play, or whatever the activity of the night is. You'll sob "but I want to play with my Connor", who you actually call "sweetie" quite a bit.
You observe everything but can't see a thing. Often, you'll come to me asking where a toy is, I'll tell you, you will go stare directly at it, and then you will return emphatically announcing that it is not there! I then go pick it up and you hand it to me and you say "oh, thanks!". I find it simultaneously cute and annoying.
I wish you would eradicate the words and phrases "No", "I don't want to", "No I didn't", and "I don't like" that soon. It makes me nuts to hear you chant these all day. Especially when you mean none of them.
Love,
Mommy
Thursday, April 9, 2009
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