September 22, 2009

Stella's World

Rain Rain

Today is the first time the sun has been out in almost a week, and Atlanta is paying the price for it. Here's a view of part of the downtown connector yesterday. James has been singing "Wain wain go away James wants to pray" for days now. Our thoughts and prayers go out to our fellow Atlanta friends who are in dire situations right now.

Our view from home...

View from our backyard. The water was well above fence level.

View from the side yard. Usually just a small drainage "stream," was a roaring river yesterday.

A collecting gully near the adjacent yard - usually you cannot see any water. It was close ground level yesterday.

Rain, rain... please go away.

September 17, 2009

Houdini Calling China

So, Jason is out of town, and I was in charge of both babies tonight. The horror.

Anyway, I took Stella upstairs for bedtime and bottle, and I usually put James in the "pen" (the Pack N Play) and turn on Sesame Street. Keeps him occupied for the 15-20 minutes it takes me to get the little one settled down.

Well tonight, after Stella is snug as a bug, I walk into the living room, and the Pen is empty. The cattle has escaped! This is a first. I panic. Okay, all the doors were locked; the cabinets bolted; the gates closed.

Where is he? Where is he? Ah-ha.

Oh, let me tell you where he is.

The little Houdini is in the half-bathroom, huddled near his training potty... with my cell phone. And he is apparently calling every country in the world, and I think he may have reached someone because he was talking into the phone.

"James! What are you doing?"

"I'm talking! Phone!"

Okay. It's funny. I laughed, we played chase, and I took him upstairs for his bath. After James is snug as a wild rattlesnake, I take a minute to check out my cell phone. Yes, there were several calls to several numbers I do not recognize. Area code 478 and 604. Who knows.

I check my voicemail, seeing that I have a message.

Message is from the good folks at Verizon Wireless, and went something like this:

"An unauthorized person has attempted to access your voicemail, and entered the incorrect password three times at 7:04 pm on September 17."

Oh yes, that kid was definitely unauthorized. But I would not have been any less surprised if old Houdini had actually managed to check my voicemail.

September 12, 2009

Under Water

The purchase of the Annual Pass to the Georgia Aquarium may be the best money ever spent, in the history of the entire world. James was thrilled, Stella was mesmerized, and Jason and I had a relaxing time. Nice. I am still in shock that a Saturday could be so awesome.

James saw the giant crabs ("oooooh, scared"), the giant saltwater fish tank ("fishy! fishy! wow-eeee! shark! fish! plant! fish! oooooh") and the beluga whales ("oooh, whale whale! [pause]...scared!!)

In the spirit of the day, we gleefully ate Goldfish crackers and ice cream on the way home. As the kids now nap, and I am seconds away from settling into the couch to watch a movie, I feel pretty relaxed. Probably more relaxed than I have felt in two years. I think...maybe we're finally coming up for air, as James is nearing two, and Stella nearing nine months. Slowly, if ever so intangibly, I am feeling that under water sensation...lightly fading away.

September 8, 2009

Kid for Sale (Cheap)

Tonight was the most spectacular tantrum I have ever seen from one child. (Although the tantrum calls into question the definition of "child," as you will see from only the small sliver of evidence uploaded below.)

It started at approximately 4:45, and continued until the better part of 7:00. Ah, I love motherhood. Tonight, while not nearly as miserable weather-wise, was a close second in the fun rating to the Atwood's trek to the Duluth Train Museum in July (See posting, Hell on Wheels for reference).

So, James (22 months) was not happy with the food for dinner, the crayons for coloring, the milk for drinking... he was not happy with the cup, the Sister, the Daddy...the animals, the books, the paper, the wagon... the tricycle in the front yard really got the brunt of the beating, and at some point, I swear that child screamed, "Goldfish b***h!" But I simply must have heard that one wrong. But a few minutes later, it was the same thing. My child's apparently gratuitous use of a curse word, however, was the least of my problems tonight.

He swatted, threw himself down, screamed, bit... did a little more throwing himself down, and biting at the air like a rabid dog. I tried to make sure the throwing down happened on the carpet, but in an attempt to "get him to the carpet," he lept from my arms like a frog on PCP, and managed to find the wood floor. Then he'd settle down, climb back up to the table and start to eat his rice and carrots. I would turn my head for a span of, oh, say 2 seconds, and the next thing I knew (I'd hear almost a low rumbling in his little gut) - out out OUT came the little beast. More crying, screaming, thrashing, nipping at the air. (Nipping at the air? Yes, I am serious.)

The Terrible Twos are indeed...quite terrible. I thought they were an urban legend, but clearly, the Terrible Twos are not legend, quite real, and are more akin to the seventh circle of hell (almost as bad as the commute from Lawrenceville in the morning). In fact, I believe that in hell, Lawrenceville and the Terrible Twos are actually quite friendly neighbors. I digress.

"Oh, but you simply must maintain your discipline consistency in order to manage your two year old." Oh, but you must come live in my house for one second. See if you can tame the dear sweet baby beast.... if you can, you can have Goldfish!

Dirt cheap.
Possibly free (depending on how tomorrow goes).
Doesn't take up much space, but is very loud.
Toys included.
Baby sister not (yet).

September 7, 2009

September 6, 2009

War Wounds

We officially have a BOY. A boy with a scrape on his chin, a nick on his nose, and big boo-boo on his forehead from a fight with the fireplace (he lost). His poor face is a constant war wound. The battle? The terrible twos... looming in the distance like a silent enemy.

Another casualty in this war is Stella. But she is becoming quite the fighter - she grabs, pulls and pinches. Her training regimen is flawless. This place is going to be quite the battlefield by Christmas.

Finally, the last fallen soldier is my antique black-and-white toile covered chair. I obviously did not care enough about it to hide it since having children. But still, in theory - I loved it. Now, there are beautiful Pollack-esque streaks across the seat. In orange Crayola. Thank you, James. Yes, it is a beautiful "drawed dinosaur."