NaBloPoMo: Day 7. Crickets.

I have this post swimming around in my head that's snowballing into something bigger than I thought it would be. I want to give it time to simmer though so it will have to wait for now. I've challenged myself to participate in NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) to give me the kick in the pants I need. The trouble is finding something to discuss. Every. Single. Day. My life doesn't seem interesting enough to talk about it every day. Today I went to the grocery store, Alex and I had lunch, he went down easily for a nap, I did some laundry, googled Hazelnut Chocolate Biscotti recipes and made a cop-out dinner. Really? What am I supposed to do with that? I'm usually a person of few words (even more so IRL). I guess I should start my next crafty project, a quiet book for Alex for Christmas. Maybe that will give me more content. Or skydiving. Yeah. I'll take up skydiving. Good for photos, great for traffic, maybe I'll even get a human interest bit on the local news about it.

Or I could show you how cute my son is with his monkey Stanley.

The 16th month...

Happy sixteen months baby Alex (who is not a baby anymore but Toddler Alex just sounds wrong). Inspired by Mommybyday I've written down all the words that Alex says either in words or in signs (baby signs is adapted from American Sign Language and it's good for kids this age because they have an easier time with signs than some of the syllables). This list seems big to me and I can't even imagine how long the list of words that he understands is. Alex surprises me every day with what he knows.

Words:
Mama
Dada
Kitty (more like Kheeeteee)
Wawa (He calls rain, water, sippy cup, sprinkler park, even dampness on my shirt from giving him a bath wawa. Clearly he knows what water is)
Boom up up (noisy upstairs neighbours)
Hot with the sign
Nanas (Bananas which has generalized to any fruits and some vegetables)
Bear (Bay bay)
Ball (Bah bah, very subtle difference but I swear it's there)
No (he likes saying it but seems to have no clue what it means)
Cheese (chzzzzzz)
Crackers (cakrrr)
Cookies (coocoo)
BaBoom (when he falls down)

Signs:
Milk
Park
More
Finished
Fish
Food
Bath
Shoes
Thank you
Juice

Sounds:
Moo
Baa
Roar
He doesn't meow like we're always saying he makes a whine more like Daisy's meow. I blame her.
Thumps his chest for gorilla
Waddles for a penguin (and says wad wad)
Sticks his tongue out for iguana (that's a new one, I taught him that this week at breakfast)
Wiggles his hip for a crocodile (most of the movements are from Eric Carle's From Head to Toe book)

Finally there is this. Not a recognizable word, just the sound of pure joy.


Untitled from Jennifer on Vimeo.

Kitty Snuggler!

The poor cats just don't get as many lovies as they did before Alex was born. Sweetie and Daisy to a lesser degree could easily spend hours on our laps. Now they seem kind of desperate. Desperate like the geeky girl trying to show cleavage at the school dance to get any boy to notice her. They'll pounce on me ast soon as I sit down without the boy in my arms, they're like glue all evening after Alex goes to bed. As I try and type this Daisy is being Shiatsu Kitty on my stomach, her head just outside of the view of my laptop (she knows if she blocks the screen she gets the boot).
I feel bad that they don't get as much affection as they'd like but it's almost like they'd never be happy. I could be crazy cat lady who never leaves the house and they'd still paw at the bathroom door because they MISSED ME.
The cats sleep on our bed with us, which feels a bit cramped since we only have a double bed. Daisy will sleep at my feet most of the time but lately she's been more bold. A few times I've woken up to find her sleeping on the top half of pillow, wrapped around my head. This cat doesn't know what personal space means. I always feel like some garishly dressed rich lady with a cat on my head, much like this:

Sweetie on the other hand sneaks up in between us and flops down like she's a person, with her head resting on a pillow. She flops back and forth looking for someone to spoon with. Usually she gives up on me and climbs up and over my husband to be spooned. This cat is happiest when she's being smothered, under the blankets or pinned down by her humans.

And yes, we put up with it. How can you resist these faces?

Dipping my toes back into the hot water

So, as a stay at home mom I rarely get a break. I don't have days off, lunch breaks, or even time to pee without an audience. As kind of an experiment, and to get that much needed break, I went back to work. One day a week. I work on the weekend so my husband can watch Alex and I don't have to worry about finding childcare. Alex also benefits, getting a whole day of daddy time. Not every kid gets that on a regular basis (sadly).

It's funny how most of the regular customers haven't even noticed that I left. I worked there for 6 years before having Alex but I haven't been there in 18 months. The ones that have noticed though seem pretty excited to have me back. I work in a very tiny neighbourhood toy store, where for the longest time there were three people working there. The owner (occasionally), the manager and myself. My specialty at the store was knowing all of the regulars (and there's a lot of them). I remember their names, their kids and there preferences. I was good at my job. Going back made me realise that.

 I also know that I don't think I could go back full time. I jumped back in right in the middle of the craziness that is the Christmas rush. Boxes everywhere, piled to the ceiling in the basement. I have no clue where anything is, don't know what's on order or what games we have for a very advanced five year old (oh and everyone thinks their kid is ADVANCED). The chaotic work is something I really don't miss. It's the chaos that sucked me back in though...

Rick and I had gone for a walk and we walked by the toy store, we noticed it was closed and there were boxes from a delivery piled in front of the store. I went to see the owner at her other store across the street to let her know. Someone didn't show up to work that day. She opened the store, and we continued with our walk. Rick and I discussed if I would want to go back to work part time. I didn't know it was an option. On our way back home, we stopped in the store, to see what had happened. The owner was in a panic when we got there. It was the manager who hadn't come in, there was a mix up and she thought it was her day off. The owner said she needed to get back to the other store for an important client. She asked "could you watch the store until the manager comes in?". Seriously? Seriously. (I'm still shaking my head at that one). So husband walked around with Alex while I manned the fort. I worked for half an hour and Alex got a new toy out of the deal.

...and so, for now, I'm a SAHM, toy expert, and someone who gets to pee in peace one day a week.



With Mrs. FisherCat at one of the Calico Critters play dates at the store.
Yes, this is what I did for a living.



My sunshine

It was a beautiful day today. We went for a little trip across town (on the other side of the mountain, which might as well be the other side of the planet for me). It was a good day.

A Joke By Alex (the highlight of my day)

We were standing at the cash in the store we went to visit.
I picked up an owl puppet.
Me: What does the owl say?
Alex: Hooo hooo hooo!
Awws, and that's right! From the ladies behind the counter.
Me: What does the lion say?
Alex: Rawwwr! (shaking his head)
More awwws from the ladies.
Me: What does the gorilla say?
Alex: DADA!

Much laughter erupts on both sides of the counter.

(The usual answer to that is chest thumping).

Sewing! Alex's halloween costume

Yes, I am going to be one of those mothers that makes halloween costumes instead of buying one. Homemade costumes seem to be a dying breed. Hopefully this little person will always want the costumes I make and not be all " Oh mom, all the cool kids BUY their costumes!". Alex didn't even go out trick or treating this year (I contemplated it but in the end it was too cold) but I wanted him to dress up. We chose a lion because when asked what a lion says Alex roars and shakes his head. Perfect!

I got a pattern since I'm a little rusty at sewing but ended up altering it a lot. It was supposed to be a one piece outfit but I thought he'd never get to wear it again. I made it into a hoodie and pants (with a detachable tail). My only real snafu in sewing came from buying the wrong zipper. Three times. Too long, doesn't unzip at the bottom, too short and finally just right. I was terrified of putting the zipper on, but I did pretty well. The pants were easier than I thought. They were seriously too big (he could have worn 2 snowsuits under the pants) but I traced a pair of his pants and they came out perfectly. I'm on the hunt for some good fabric now to make more pants for him.

It was so great getting the sewing machine out. It had been buried deep in our storage closet for too long. Since our space is so tiny I had to clear out a couple of shelves on my bookshelf to make room, but it's totally worth it. My brain is spinning with all the the potential sewing projects!

Roar! (He totally did this on his own, unprompted)

Chasing his prey, like any good carnivore.

My bad-ass no-good kitchen.

My kitchen hates me. And really, I hate it right back. It's cramped, I have zero counter space, the walls are white but the ceiling is beige (we never got around to painting the ceiling, but seriously? Who does that, paint a ceiling beige), the stove is possessed and the fridge has a serious attitude problem.

Dear Refrigerator, You and I are not friends. Yes, you do your job marginally well, but you have no people skills. I will not mourn your loss when you quit.
-me
The freezer is tiny and has no shelves so it regularly spills frozen projectiles out onto the floor, my foot, a curious toddler's head. The fridge is not any better. The bottom shelf that holds the one drawer regularly collapses on me, forcing me to rearrange the whole bottom half of the fridge. So, I've given up. Yes, fridge, you win. I will put nothing in the drawer losing a quarter of the space. It's like a four year old with a really tiny bladder. Yeah, you know, THAT kid. Oh and if anything is pushed too far back in the fridge, it freezes.
My stove? Burns thing. I swear. It's not the chef. For years I burnt cookies. I was able to cook other stuff but cookies? Hockey pucks. I got fed up and bought a thermometer for the oven. It's 75 degrees hotter than the dial says it is. So, the usual 350F? Actually 425F. I'm on to you, Stove. I have your number.

In the past three weeks I've had to mop up a dozen eggs, a full bottle of Pam cooking spray (frothy oily projectile), a liter of milk, a bottle of formula, Alex spilled an entire bag of Corn Pops on the floor, I dropped an entire meal on the floor and burnt another. I was making a cake for a friend's baby shower and as I popped the cake out of the pan, it broke in half. Alex quickly grabbed large chunks of cake and shoved them in his mouth. Well, at least the cake tasted good. The second batch burned (see above). The only counter space I have that is out of range of grabby little hands is not counter space at all. It's my stove. I have very bad kitchen juju. Even the Buddist chanting my sister suggested hasn't helped (Nam myoho renge kyo if anyone wants to help me out and chant to the universe for me to have a nicer kitchen).

My cupboards start above my head. I can reach everything on the first of four shelves. I have to use a step ladder to get anything other than peanut butter or cereal out. Oh and have I mentioned that Alex can climb stairs? Like stairs in the form of a step ladder? He either climbs up behind me, or even worse, he uses it LIKE A WALKER and walks away while I'm standing on the counter.

Seriously? Those shiny, nicely painted, cupboards that close, sexy tiled, massive counterspaced kitchens with dish washers and shiny stainless steel appliances that I see in magazines or on the Ikea showroom floors? That's hot.