What's Your Toy-Q?

     Anyone who has tried to carry on a conversation with me over the past five years can probably attest to the fact that I'm a lot less sharp than I used to be.  See, before kids I would have used the word "articulate".  Granted, I've always had trouble splitting a check with friends (with tip) but now it seems like I'm even more dumb than before.  I'm so dumb that I can't even think of a good example about how dumb I am right now (I may very well think of six once I'm done posting).  Now I think I know why I'm not so smart anymore.  It's my theory that all 110 points of my IQ (this is not confirmed, just a guess) are being wasted at classifying kids' toys.  Now you can give it a try... What's your toy IQ?  Two points for every answer- one for a correct type of toy and a second point if you can name the brand! 

Disclaimer: This quiz might be only slightly gender biased... I don't have any Polly Pocket dresses lying around.  But I did try to choose gender neutral toys for the purpose of fairness.

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21.

Well? How did you do?  Let's find out if you're as smart as me (which means you've likely diverted most of your intelligence to toy classification too).

1.  Lincoln Logs window

2. Candy Land man

3. Mr. Potato Head's ear

4. Elefun butterfly

5. Red cylinder puzzle block (by ?)

6. Red wooden block by Imaginarium (I think)

7. Fisher Price doctor kit blood pressure bulb

8. Let's Go Fishing (blue fishy)

9. Ants In My Pants (green ant that looks more like a grasshopper)  

11. Nerf dart gun

12. Silly Band guitar

13. Rock and Roll Mr. Potato Head's earring

14. Chameleon from the dentist's office grab bag (notice how he is camouflaged to match the stains on my table)

15. Peas

16. Batman's bat thingy from Imaginext

17. Stylus for Nintendo DS

18. Trio block

19. Bristle blocks by Playskool

20. Stinker from Uno Moo

21. I have no idea what this is.  I found it at the bottom of a toy box.  You get an extra 20 points if you know what this is and you post a comment.

Romance

 
     I love cheese... but I hate cheesiness. And that is why I need to apologize to many of you. I'm sorry if some of my posts have caused you to throw up in your mouth a little bit. I know, it's gross... but so are inspirational quote books. That being said, it is Valentine's Day and I do need to be a little bit romantic. I will do my best to write a Valentine that won't make you gag... too much.

     A few years ago when I had time to talk philosophically (clearly before kids), I asked a good friend who is also a male to tell me the most romantic gesture he could think of. He said it was to take a delicate necklace and to wrap it around a single rose. I almost cried... laughing. No, that's not romantic to me at all. And neither is a 4 foot teddy bear that I would just put in my kids' room. I'll tell you that over the years I've gotten a lot of flowers from Bill (that's because we've been together for a long time, not because he gets me a lot of flowers). The most romantic flowers I remember ever getting from him was 4 roses. I'm not 100% sure but I think it was for our 6 month anniversary. We were teenagers and I was at a friends' house waiting for him and he showed up late and I was furious. And then I got 4 roses and I was confused. What was the significance of 4 roses? Apparently the other two had a mis-hap and got... well deflowered. I couldn't get too mad... after all, here he was... with 4 roses and a funny story that I can't fully remember now. But I do remember this- that they were very pretty roses and I didn't stay mad at him because dropping two roses on the ground and bringing me the other 4... well, for some reason that's romantic to me.

     Most recently the most romantic gesture I've received is... a full tank of gas. I got into my car in the school parking lot, ready to head home and there it was... a full tank of gas in a car that was running close to empty. Bill had been "in the neighborhood" and decided to fill up the tank. He also left my seat in the far back position, which kind of gave away who had performed this awesome deed. Of course, that's not his only romantic gesture of late. He's in the process of fixing our furnace- which included weeks of troubleshooting and waking up in the middle of the night to turn it back on so we didn't wake up as icicles. He has cooked us ribs, steak tips, chicken wings, frozen pizza and cheeseburger surprise... all in the last two weeks. He got me new tires and paid extra to get me all 4... because it's safer that way. He doesn't complain when I snore. He's mid-way through reading the Chronicles of Narnia to Liam (we've agreed, I'll read the series to Joshua). He lets me drink coffee out of his mug every morning. He saved us over $1200 in airfare for our first official family vacation in, well, never. Come to think of it, this is a guy I could probably stay married to for, well, forever.

     Sorry if I just made you throw up in your mouth a little bit.

Getting the Wrong Ideas

     Early on I have tried to instill self-monitoring in my children.  This is to say, I'm too lazy to get off the couch and stop their poor behavior.  Often I will say, "It seems like a bad idea"... instead of outright saying "NO" or "I'll go get your father if you don't stop that."  And like most brothers, these guys have had their fair share of Bad Ideas. 
     Hiding a Christmas stocking full of candy under a couch cushion is clearly a bad idea. If you are going to be sneaky, you should hide candy somewhere where it is actually hidden.  I would suggest in your room.  The couch is too public a place and the raised up cushion is just too obvious.  On the off chance that someone will sit down anyway, you are also running the risk of melted chocolate and broken candy canes. Bad Idea.
     Cutting your own hair to make a reverse mohawk is also a bad idea.  If you are in the mood to cut hair, instead of practicing on your own, I would suggest cutting your little brother's hair instead.  It's not such a big deal for a baby to have a bad haircut... but a Kindergartner?  Now that's just uncool.  What's worse, your mom might find your bad haircut hilarious and make you suffer by not getting you a real haircut for 2 weeks after the bad cut. Then you will have to walk around with the middle part of your bangs cut to the scalp while the rest of your bangs cover your eyes.  I do appreciate that you used kiddie scissors but... Bad Idea.
     For some reason the kids really do think our couches are jungle gyms.  They like to run across the cushions and really have no preference for the cushions being on the couch or on the floor.  Either way, they leap to and fro.  They make loops around the living room.  Despite many pleas and shouts from parents, part of this loop involves a drop from the arm of the sofa to the floor.  This is not expensive furniture and there are obvious concerns over the wood frame breaking but I'm more concerned with the possible broken necks as they slide from the arm to the floor.  Inevitably someone ends up on top of someone else and there there is the obligatory crying.  Bad Idea.
     Lollipops are great parenting strategies... or tools... or whatever you want to call them.  Lollipops can persuade a child to sit quietly while Mommy and Daddy go holiday shopping. They can reward someone for calmly sitting to get their hair cut (to correct their mistake with kiddie scissors).  Lollipops are a great treat, it's true, but walking around with a lollipop in your hand and not eating it right away... is not such a great idea.  Give it some time, you will drop the lollipop and it will be covered in hair from the hair salon's waiting room carpet.  That's why, if Mommy gives you a lollipop, you should enjoy it right away instead of walking around with it.  That's a Bad Idea.
     This shouldn't surprise me.  When Bill and his brothers were little I hear they rode down the stairs in a laundry basket.  Bad Idea.  He also washed a car... with charcoal lighter fluid.  Bad Idea. While Bill was learning life lessons, I was too.  I learned that if I thought it was fun to jump in the town sandpit barefoot, there were just as many people who found it fun to drink and throw bottles in that same sandpit and that I was bound to land barefoot onto one of those broken bottles.  Bad Idea.  No, it really shouldn't surprise me. I once cut my bangs too after all... right to the scalp... when I was in middle school. As if I wasn't enough of a dork in middle school, I had to wear a thick elastic headband for several weeks until it was presentable (actually it still wasn't presentable a couple of weeks later, but I was a dork anyway so it wasn't that big a deal... plus this was back in the day when curling and spraying bangs was the norm). Anyway, I agree about cutting hair. It's a Bad Idea.
     Bad Ideas seem about as inevitable as toothpaste on the bathroom counter.  They're just going to happen.  You can warn against them, but some life lessons need to be learned on their own. 
     Sometimes you need to learn lessons the hard way.  I suppose I learn lessons from my own Bad Ideas each and every day.  I don't try to cut my own hair anymore and I've completely stopped having fun in a dare-devilish way.  I don't remember the last time I saw Bill coast down the stairs in a laundry basket.  Here's to hoping that next time Joshua gets a lollipop, he'll just enjoy it right away instead of coveting and then dropping it.  And here's to hoping that Liam will not cut his own hair again... or Joshua's for that matter.  And as for the Christmas stocking... seriously Liam, find a better hiding spot.

How I Bleached Our Nursery Room Rocker

     Ever go on a tirade around the house?  It starts something like this...

• What is that stuff in the back of that drawer?
• Ew... this drawer too?
• Maybe it's time to apply the new shelf paper I bought six months ago.
• But first I need to do the dishes because this is going to be a mess.
• But first I need to empty the dishwasher because I still haven't emptied last night's load.
• Where is Liam?  He's supposed to do the silverware.
• Liam!  What is this mess?  Let me help you clean it up.
• Okay, now the dishes are done and it's time to get back to work.
• Oh, I thought I cleaned out all of the syrup when it fell into the silverware drawer.
• Hmm... maybe I should just put a new layer of shelf paper on top of the old layers...
• (Improper attempt to rationalize laziness) Afterall, shelf paper will stick better to other pieces of shelf paper, right?
• Moment of rationality... No, then I'd have to clean the old shelf paper.  If I take it off, it's easier anyway so I can still meet my daily lazy quota.
• Why do we have so many take-out chopsticks?
• How many bottle openers do we need?
• I think I can throw out this bottle opener we got from the Vatican 9 years ago... the Pope's face fell off it awhile back anyway so now it's just a plain old bottle opener.  No more irony.
• I think I'll go the extra step by spraying the drawers with Lysol... better go outside.
• Why is it such a nice day... in January?
• All of our windows need to be opened right now.
• Dammit.  Most of our windows are covered with that window insulating plastic... better just open the other ones.
• Joshua's window is too well insulated (only window in the house with those cozy insulated permanent shades)... his windowsill is actually black. That's probably not good.  I better clean it with some mildew remover.
• Oh my god, I have so much to do.  I still haven't finished the drawers.
• Where did I put that spray?
• Oh, it's on the rocker.
• Hmmm... it seems to be leaking bleach onto my rocking chair.
• Insert swear word here.
• I should probably tell Bill so he doesn't sit on the chair and bleach his jeans later.

Full disclosure: At some point in this barely productive madness I yelled at Bill who was being so unproductive.  I mean, all he did so far on this day was take Liam to bowling league and then fix our furnace.  I also forgot to tell him about the bleached chair.  Ooops.
Full disclosure: By some grace of God, I actually had a lunch date with a friend so I got out of the house and thereby regained a good amount of sanity.  It's a good thing I regained some sanity because Bill had his own Bowling League even to attend so... it was just two kids and a crazy mom for the evening.
     And this is how any good tirade really should end...

• Oh!  It's getting dark and we have no drawers.
• But our tupperware cupboard is so accessible, as I'm putting dishes away, I can just throw the tupperware into the open drawer slot and it falls into the cupboard below.
• I'd better get our drawers.
• Ack!  Liam!  What are you doing with that shelf paper!  Stick it back on to the backing!  I'm not ready yet!
• Joshua!  Come back with the roll!  It's not a weapon!
• I am the best mom ever, I'm teaching Liam how to use the measuring tape correctly.
• Wow, Liam is not really a straight cutter is he.
• How am I supposed to put shelf paper on straight when Joshua is sticking his face directly in front of my face and holding on to my hair with both hands?
• Is it possible that Liam is better at putting this on straight and without bubbles than I am?
• Now that we're done, I'm totally feeling fine.  I can totally handle making spaghetti and meatballs.
• What was I thinking?  Why did I think I could handle cooking a real meal tonight?
• What is Joshua talking about?  Why do I need to argue with a 2 year old even though I know I'm right?  (It is at this moment that Joshua has come into the kitchen waving around a plastic tomato from his kitchen set. He got into an argument with me that I was in no position to win despite the fact that I was right... and he threw his plastic tomatoes into the hot oven)
• Huh, imagine that.  Joshua just happened to throw his plastic tomato at the exact moment that the oven was open and now it's in the back corner... unreachable to me.
• I need potholders... but they're all being washed.
• I can't get to the plastic tomato because the hot grates are in the way.
• I can't put the grates on top of the oven because that's where the banana muffins are (did I mention I made banana muffins this morning).
• I'll have to lay the grates on top of the oven door... precariously of course.
• I should probably be wearing shoes.
• Smoke from burning plastic is probably not good, right?
• Why doesn't Joshua understand karma?  Or irony?           

     At bedtime we all sat down for a story... on the couch so I wouldn't bleach my pants on the rocker in the nursery.

  

Wowwipops and Melmo

     Lately Joshua has been running up and down our hallway with a stick shouting "Grabba Grabba".  Bill and I were a bit perplexed.  Was he talking about "Yo Gabba Gabba"?  Hopefully not for all of our own sanity (don't ever watch that show if you value sanity).  Then Liam joined in waving his own stick saying, "Pocus Pocus" and it immediately became apparent. The boys were magicians.
     Every so often, Bill and I channel our inner speech therapists and try to coach the boys into speaking with correct pronunciation and grammar.  We try to teach Joshua that "Pick I up" just doesn't sound right but then he just gets mad that he's still standing on the floor with his hands stretched up to us.  We try to teach Liam to pronounce the L's in lollipop too... but that just hasn't clicked yet either.
     Over the years the kids have come up with some interesting translations.  Often it takes awhile to figure out what they are saying.  I had a friend who was very lucky.  Her preschooler consistently substituted "f" for the tr sound.  Having such a pattern of mispronunciation was probably helpful for her since she usually knew what he was saying... and it was super fun asking him to identify vehicles on the thruway.
     Bill and I have had our favorite mispronunciations over the years.  We still call the remote a "goodmote" and even though Liam now pronounces "oatmeal" correctly, my mother and sister still call it "oatmo".  It's like we have our own secret language under this roof.  I can ask for a "goofier" and Bill knows to grab me a screwdriver. No one in our house knows who Elmo is but we've all heard of "Melmo".
     The other day I happened upon a video clip of Liam reading with his grandmother.  He was wearing the same pj's in the video that Joshua wears now.  I recognized the chubby cheeks of a shorter Liam but I hadn't realized just how much his voice had changed over these past couple of years.  His squeaky voice is gone and now most of what he says actually makes sense.  Sometimes I think it's best not to help the boys with the correct pronunciation.  Who wants to say good bye to that cute squeaky voice that insists on more "miwk".  I must admit, I miss Liam's faintly german dialect, "Put on mine coat" or "I want mine own bowl".  And I think I will miss Joshua's "Pick I up" soon enough too.  So maybe I'm secretly happy that the grammar lessons haven't quite sunk in yet for Joshua.  But just in case, I'll have to make a few videos of him wearing those same pj's.
 

Monitoring All Communications

     Liam's baby monitor has been on the fritz lately.  Yeah, you heard me... Liam's baby monitor.  The Liam that is about to turn 6 has a baby monitor.  In my defense, he has nightmares and his room is downstairs and on the other side of the house.
     For years now, the monitor has been usable only while on its charging base.  It's long since lost it's ability to travel 90 feet away.  Now a dust mite crawling between the sensors can get it started beeping with its red light.  I'm assuming that is what is happening because every night the monitor beeps at us from my dresser, sometimes just after we've fallen asleep, often in the middle of the night when we're never quite sure what woke us up... Yet every night Bill or I go into Liam's room and we click that monitor to make sure it's working from his end.
     Time to get rid of the monitor, right?  Wrong.  I can think of a hundred reasons why I need Liam's monitor on each night. There are the nightmares, true, but also what if his baseboard heater catches fire from a rogue Lego?  What if someone breaks into the house? What if he falls off his bed?  What if he gets sick?  Joshua still has his monitor, why wouldn't we need one for Liam too?  What if either of them needs us in the middle of the night?
     I'm not overprotective, really.  When everyone's awake, I see no real need for a monitor now that both kids are a little older.  In fact, I've been known to turn off their monitors after we put them down for bedtime (sometimes this is just necessary.  It's hard to hear Desperate Housewives when Joshua is screaming, "Me want juice. Me no want water. Me want juice.  Me no want water.  Me want juice...."). 
     I'm also not overly sentimental about my kids growing up.  Really, I actually enjoy having conversations with Liam now and I think watching Joshua becoming a real grown up kid is kind of cool too.  Babies can't break out into spontaneous mosh pits in the living room or talk about farts and poops at the dinner table.  They're not really as fun as having big kids.  I wasn't even upset when Liam boarded the bus for Kindergarten (Hello?  Free day-time care with the added benefit of learning?)!  Believe me, I won't be sad when I can get rid of Josh's Diaper Champ either.  So it's not emotions that keep me holding onto that monitor... at least not the emotion of being overly sentimental.
    It's clear that I will not be parting with Liam's monitor anytime soon. But when I think about it, I'm pretty sure he shouldn't have a monitor in his room when he's an 8 year old.  So sometime between not yet and 8. That seems specific enough.  Until then I think I'll just cope with the beeping.  On second thought, I think instead of getting rid of the monitor, I will just disguise it.  I won't keep it on all the time, just sometimes... I wonder how many of us had hidden baby monitors in our rooms when we were teens.  Ok, that's a really creepy thought.  I think it'll have to go sometime... but not until he's 8.

A Perfect Match

     The boys are playing blocks in the living room.  Joshua drinks coffee out of a cylinder-shaped block and then hands it to Liam who adds it to the top of his tower.  They talk in their own little rambling language about monster houses and treasure boxes.  In the mornings they take off every couch cushion, pillow and blanket to make a big mountain to sit on or to tunnel through while Mommy and Daddy oversleep.  Yesterday evening they actually moved all of the furniture in Joshua's room, along with his toy box full of toys and, yes, even his Diaper Champ, in front of his door locking their parents out of their so-called "hide out".  They have entire 20 minute conversations using Karaoke microphones ("Hi", "Hi", "Hi", "Hi", "Hi", etc...).  If Joshua sits down for dinner with an apple juice, Liam asks to sit right next to him with "what Joshy has."  They conspired in numerous ways to steal Christmas candy- from hiding their stockings and sharing the loot to sneaking out of the candy jar and hiding behind the couch and using each other's pockets. 
      Liam has grown up with no shortage of friends.  In preschool Liam met a kid who can only be thought of as real "best friend" quality.  It's not hard to meet a friend, but a good friend... that's much harder to come by.  I was worried at first when Liam told me about his best friend- was it one sided?  Until his friend's parents told me that he had said he plans on marrying Liam.  Phew.  What a relief!  The boys were inseparable, except when their teachers separated them.  This is how awesome a friendship it was: They were having a contest that only a mother could make up, a who-can-clean-up-faster-contest. When Liam realized he was losing, his BFF actually gave Liam some of the trash.  True, they bickered sometimes but overall it was a good scene... I didn't realize how good a scene until we had to start from scratch again in Kindergarten. 
    Seeking out a best friend isn't easy.  It's hard not to compare everyone to the original BFF and it takes tough skin to endure being overlooked.  Of course, I'm speaking from my perspective.  Every time Liam told me about a friend who tattled on him or who got mad at him, I couldn't help but compare them unfavorably to the preschool best buddy and feel a little dejected myself.  Liam was just a little confused about why his best friend wasn't in his class (or school).  I would badger him on the car ride home asking who he played with, what he played, who he talked to.  We even practiced introducing himself before the first day of school.  In retrospect, maybe sending him to school that first day in a button up shirt and tie having taught him how to say, "Hi, my name is Liam.  I like Transformers. What is your name?  What do you like?" might have been a little bit of a red flag for prospective friends.
     Eventually Liam announced that he had found a best friend.  Also silly and also smart, they seemed to be a good match.  They were in the same class and the same after school program.  It was great seeing Liam settled and happy, talking about his best friend... until I picked Liam up one day and overheard his K-buddy say, "I'm not your friend right now. Maybe I'll be your friend tomorrow."  Good grief.  Worse than back to square one, this set us back quite a bit. Try convincing a 5 year old that his BFF wasn't such a good friend after all.  I knew it would be a hard sell so I tried not to be too obvious, beyond the casual, "A friend is supposed to make you happy..." or "What would a good friend say?".  I admit it, after hearing similar statements over a period of a couple of weeks at pick up time, I kind-of-also suggested to the other child that maybe instead of reneging his friendship several times a day (that's me being sarcastic, I didn't actually say that to him) he could just "ask for a break".  Predictably, none of these passive aggressive tactics worked so I just figured Liam would have this K-buddy and he could find a new best friend for 1st Grade.  Until a few months into the school year when we received devastating news in the world of a 5 year old.  His best friend was moving away... out of state.  Devastation.  Crying at bedtime.  Over Thanksgiving, out of the blue Liam would look at one of us, bottom lip starting to tremble, and say pitiful things like, "I just remembered #@&%$ moved away."  Silver lining?  Now we were back at square one. 
     This time I didn't do any coaching.  I just suggested that Liam try playing with some other classmates. Instead his teacher coaxed another boy... one whose hair is styled in a mohawk and who always chooses books from the "Killer Hunter" series from the school library... to ask if Liam wanted to play.  I try not to ask too often, but it seems that the friendship has staying power.
     So what is a friend?  I've learned that now that the kids are older, I really do have less control over their choice of friends.  But I do know this.  After dinner today, Liam told Joshua who his real best friend is... (drum roll please) "You're my best friend Joshua."  And Joshua agreed, "Liam, you're my best friend."  And I couldn't have chosen a more perfect match myself.