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Mon, Nov 22, 2004 7:00 AM
Bon Voyageee

After an entire weekend spent packing and swearing, followed by more packing and even more swearing, we're ready to go. Well, physically anyway. Mentally? I'm terrified. I haven't been on a plane since I was 5, nearly TWENTY YEARS AGO. In other words, I don't remember a thing, so this is basically a brand new experience as far as I'm concerned. And I'll just pretend that I don't have that debilitating fear of heights.

I'm sure Calvin's silenty thanking The Lord God of Sane Parents each and every night for Dad, since Dad is the only one capable of keeping this family together while I silently freak out every moment of every day as tomorrow comes closer and closer.

If it wasn't for Joep, not a thing would be packed yet (not a THING) and I would be completely bald; surrounded by tufts of my hair that I've pulled out in frustration. And Hobbes would look at me in awe (this is the cat who has bitten off an entire patch of hair in protest every time we've done something to freak her out; like moving, bringing Calvin home from the hospital, then moving AGAIN).

Anyway, as I freak out about this MAJOR trip, Calvin has sensed that Mama needs extra hugs and smooches and he has been more than happy to provide them. Thank GOD for sweet babies.

Thank you, Calvin, for all those extra hugs and smooches when I needed them most. Now if you could just promise me to be as thoughtful when we're on that plane tomorrow, hovering over the Atlantic Ocean, surrounded by what will feel like hundreds of people (did I mention that I'm also claustrophobic?), while I silently freak out in my seat, I would forever be grateful.

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Fri, Nov 19, 2004 7:00 AM
The Worst Kind of Peas

Well, it didn't take long. Calvin has already started saying, "peas" without being prompted, which is the Worst Kind of Peas. Unprompted Peas is the Prompted Peas PLUS 75% more cuteness.

Have I lost you yet? Let me explain:

Last night, Calvin refused to eat the chicken we made for him for dinner. So we let him out of his highchair and waited to see how long he'd last before he'd break down and eat it after all.

While Joep & Calvin forged a Battle of Wills, I made some dinner consisting of instant pudding and applesauce for myself since anything with anymore texture than that would have ripped my throat apart (side note: strep throat SUCKS). Calvin came out to supervise and began his Speech of Whine on why I should make him something else; something like cookies or ice cream for dinner. Anything but chicken.

I did my very best to ignore him. I really did. And I was doing beautifully until he pulled out The Unprompted Peas. Out of nowhere and without being prompted, my child looked at me with huge doe eyes and whimpered, "peas, Mama?"

After I finished picking up the pieces of my heart off the kitchen floor, I told Joep he'd better come quick and take Calvin if he wanted to win the Battle of Wills because I was caving FAST. As soon as Calvin heard Joep coming, he attacked me with a flurry of, "peas?" over and over again because he knew DAD was coming and if he wanted to finish winning me over, he was going to have to work fast.

Unfortunately, Joep didn't make it in time and I ended up making Calvin a new dinner of a Pig in a Blanket and applesauce. I know, I KNOW! Calvin needs to learn to eat what we make him, but YOU CAN'T JUDGE ME! YOU WEREN'T THERE! YOU DON'T KNOW THE SUPERHUMAN POWERS OF THE UNPROMPTED PEAS!

Oh, I am in so much trouble. My polite child has manipulative powers like I'd never imagined. Either that, or I'm just much, MUCH weaker than I thought.

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Wed, Nov 17, 2004 11:00 AM
And Now We Say The Magic Word...

We've been working with Calvin the past several weeks on saying, "please" and "thank you" and I'm pleased to announce that we've accomplished 50%. Calvin now says, "please" willingly and at the appropriate times, Go Calvin! We were so thrilled!

Our excitement was short-lived, however, when we discovered that Calvin looks SICKENINGLY ADORABLE when he sputters out, "peas?" in respons to our request for "please" when he wants something. The reason for this is quite simple: We would give this child ANYTHING for saying, "peas" as sweetly as he does.

Calvin comes to us with a banana: Us: "Calvin, can you say, 'please'?"

Calvin: "Peas?"

We give him the banana.

Calvins comes to us with a box of Nilla Wafers: Us: "Calvin, can you say, 'please'?"

Calvin: "Peas?"

We give him the ENTIRE box of Nilla Wafers.

Calvin comes to us with the deed to a $300,000,000.00 home: "I'm sorry, Calvin, but no."

Calvin: "Peas?"

We sign away our lives in exchange for $300,000,000.00.

You see how dangerous this can be, right?

But oh well, he hasn't asked for anything outrageous yet, so we'll just soak up the sickening adorable-ness for now and thank goodness he's being polite. Because god knows the chances of him saying "please" and "thank you" so frequently when he's, oh, let's say THIRTEEN, are slim to none.

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Tue, Nov 9, 2004 8:00 AM
Town Without Pity

I remember once when I was little, I was riding my bike around the blacktop by our house when I suffered a major wipeout that promptly removed about 80% of the skin on my legs. WHY DO LITTLE KIDS INSIST UPON RIDING THEIR BIKES IN SHORTS?! ON BLACKTOP?! EVERYONE knows that blacktop and asphalt just lie there and wait patiently for the next kid in shorts on his bike, only to jump up and yank the kid off his bike to send him skidding across the pavement.

They never do this if you're wearing unrippable jeans.

Anyway, afterwards I naturally went straight to my mom for sympathy and Bactine. Unfortunately, she was on the phone at the time, so I had to wait until she was finished before I could milk her for pity.

While I was waiting in agony, I laid sprawled out on the kitchen floor, convinced I was bleeding to death while my mom finished her important call (what's more important than your own daughter's need for sympathy??). To this day she tries to tell me it was merely a scraped knee, but believe you me; I'm lucky to be alive today. AND to have retained the use of both legs.

I realize now that I may have been overreacting just a smidgen. Especially now that I have an almost-2-year-old who is a PRO at sympathy solicitation. (By the way, Calvin, you REALLY need to work on your fake crying. Even Dad can spot that a mile away. I, however, will always be able to spot fake crying because I am the current world champion. But don't give up. There are always grandparents and strangers.)

Anyway, as I was saying, Calvin is frighteningly good at gaining sympathy. Especially from me (once I'm done laughing, anyway). Every time he bonks, bumps, scrapes, or otherwise damages any part of his body, he bolts straight to the nearest parent and immediately launches into his speech as to why said parent should start piling on the pity.

For now, half the time, he gets it (before long it will get old and we will become immune, right?). Other times, Joep & I just can't stop laughing long enough to give it to him. Like the other day when Calvin bonked his head on the wall next to our bed just seconds after stepping in cat vomit in his BARE FEET.

Have I mentioned that Calvin's new word is, "Ewwwwwwwww!"? No, seriously. Ask Grandma Linda about Halloween weekend and carving pumpkins.

Anywho, I was in the bedroom clearing out emails when I was suddenly assaulted with the noise of EWWWWWWWWW!, quickly followed by BONK, which was immediately followed by more EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! And then lots of, "Mama! Mama! Oww! Mama! Eww! Mama! Eww! Mama! Eeeeeee!"

All Joep heard was a faint cry of, "eeeww!" amidst my laughter.

Poor Calvin. I can just see it now: One day, after I've become immune to Calvin's pleas for un-needed pity, I'll be in the middle of an important phone call when he will come running into the house in desperate need of it. Just like I was so many years ago.

Except this time, instead of skinless legs, it will be a combination of cat vomit and head bumps and lots and lots of laughing until I can no longer finish my phone conversation and will be forced to give in to him.

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Mon, Nov 1, 2004 8:00 AM
Happy Halloween!

Calvin celebrated his second Halloween yesterday evening, dressed as Winnie the Pumpkin Pooh. Joep & I were dressed as tired parents. EEEEK!

We took Calvin to a few houses on our block and totally took advantage of people's Cute Kid In A Costume weakness. Calvin scored more candy in one-half hour and FIVE houses than I did my first 3 years trick-or-treating combined. We could have easily continued to hand out candy long after we'd run out of our own by dipping into Calvin's pumpkin stash, but, well... see... there's Joep.

Joep's been saving space in his stomach for the last 3 months to make room for all the candy he knew Calvin would bring in last night. Calvin didn't save any space, but he definitely forced down a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup with no problem. And he would have forced down another if it hadn't been for that Damn Mom who caught him just as he was getting ready to tear into The Reese's He Strategically Hid Behind The Sofa.

That's when Calvin turned into something scarier than any monster roaming the streets on Halloween. A very tired and cranky baby who just had his first taste of major sugar in the form of the best candy known to man: The Reese's Peanut Butter Cup. And then was denied this new discovery by That Damn Mom.

Luckily, Calvin was even more excited about handing out candy than he was about soliciting strangers for it, so he quickly forgot all about the Savory Peanut Butter Cup when he heard the doorbell ring, signaling that there were more Tootsie Rolls to be handed out. Within 15 minutes, Calvin was a regular pro at handing out candy.

He gave handfuls of Tootsie Rolls to the cute, polite little kids who said, "Happy Halloween!" and, "Thank you!" and, "Oh, your little boy is so cute!" and only one Tootsie Roll plus a glare to the older kids who would willingly knock over Calvin's pumpkins in an attempt to get more FREE CANDY! YEAH! Good job, Calvin. Take heed, though. Just wait until you're one of those older kids scouring the neighborhood for FREE CANDY! and some grouchy little toddler only gives you ONE TOOTSIE ROLL. Don't you DARE egg that house, kiddo. Or I will take all your candy away and give it to Dad.

Thankfully, we made it through Halloween with no smashed pumpkins and no toilet paper or egg decorations in, on, near, or around our house. Then again, I think most people that live within a 10-mile radius are aware that *I* live here and so they avoid the house like the Black Death when choosing targets for their Halloween re-decorating antics. Plus, word of Calvin's moodiness is quickly spreading.

One of those rare instances where my legend preceeds me. In a GOOD way.

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