today in the 'hood

We will never, ever get tired of big bubbles

Seriously, never.  The only thing that stops us is running out of dish soap. 

I have some instructions for big bubbles posted here if you would like to make your own.  You should.  It's way fun. 

wintering

While I have been patiently riding out the winter by sitting quietly and doing a little needlework, the kids haven't been completely on board with the sitting idea. Or being quiet. 

I say, Get in touch with your inner lazy cat, find a patch of sunlight and Take a Nap.

They say, No Napping.

Besides throwing a year's worth of egg cartons around the house, girl child has been decorating.  Decorating with paintings and recycling.

Decorating with words (vocal and non-vocal types).

And decorating wtih duct tape.

That's my living room floor.  Once again, I can't help but feel blessed that I don't have nice things.  Because I wouldn't for very long anyway.

This is a more or less accurate map of the major roads in our small city.  Good thing that girl child received her weight in duct tape for Christmas so that we could add the river in too.

Boy child's love of novelty means that he grows bored of his toys quickly.  Every day I try to come up with a new toy for him to make and play with.  I admit, if winter goes on much longer, I may start to run out of ideas.

Eventually, even I will force them outside to play.  Because having your yard covered in snow four feet deep is no excuse.

Faces

One of my favorite games my children and I play is Find the Faces.  It's always a delight to find a personality in the most unexpected of places.  We are all hardwired to see eyes, noses and mouths on even the most inanimate of objects and fascinated by the expressions we find.  Who hasn't seen the Man on the Moon or found an old woman on the linoleum floor? 

This time of year is perfect for this game, with our collective attention on the spooky and weird.  Faces in the trees or on the bedstead can take on a sinister look or be freakishly clowny.  Smootch and Birdie both have tendencies to create fantastical personalities to go along with the face, who often have stories to tell, sometimes happy and sometimes terribly, ghastly unfortunate. 

The only downside is that it's very difficult to shut off your 'face finding' radar and once you get going, it's hard to not feel like the world is a very crowded place indeed.      

blue pancakes

Birdie is my helper child. 

If Smootch sees me coming with a vacuum cleaner and cleaning cloths, she's out of there faster than light.  Birdie, though, will yell out, 'yay' and clap his hands. 

He adores being helpful.

Let me clarify that: he adores being helpful and doing it his way.

I like to encourage Birdie to help with the work of our household. It's better if I focus on the process rather than the outcome.  Even if a window 'washed' by Birdie looks worse than when he started.  Frankly, with the house looking like it does, it really doesn't make much of a difference anyway, and it's probably better that I feel good about the mess because I helped Birdie develop confidence, a cooperative spirit and domestic skills rather than feel terrible because I haven't had time to get to it because I'm busy with Birdie.
It's all perspective.

It doesn't always go smoothly.  Yesterday Birdie helped make my bed and during the process, Birdie stormed out twice and I had to scream in my pillow for a bit.  Times that like remind me it's easier to change my attitude than to change a two year old's mind.  And saves the neighbors having to wonder what all the yelling is about.

Sometimes I have to outright say No to the boy - No Helping.  He's never been good with that word and will usually push me until I make a concession, however small, to his desire or put him in timeout.  He's a little relentless that way, bless him.

Othertimes, it's fun to just let him at it.  Call the shots.  Caterer to his idiosyntric toddler ways.  It's like reading a good book, with plenty of interesting happenings and plot twists.

And the ending is always a surprise.

I can't tell you how not excited The Man is to come home to a Birdie made dinner.  The Man tries to be a good sport, but I think when you spend your day in the world of adults, where the everyone is concerned with the bottom line and the ends justify the means blah blah, it's hard to make a mental adjustment the sticky slow days with a couple of small, irrational autocrats.  Which is probably why he sometimes isn't too hungry after work and then makes a pot of curry noodles after the kids go to bed.

Which is too bad.  Birdie has some pretty good ideas sometimes.  If he's allowed to do it his way.