"Wish I was an English Muffin..."

"...ah, South California" (Punky's Dilemma)

We made a quick getaway to the Barlows in San Diego and soaked up some good fun. Many stories to tell, but I'll leave them for later (and for Robin). For now, the photos.

Feedback

Talmage is, generally speaking, an obedient, mild-mannered boy. At the store this morning, though, something went awry and he was swinging fists at me and hollering. We aborted the errand and returned home where he spent some time cooling down in his room.

A little later I found this note:

"I Not Nise"
"MY MOM iS NOT Nise AND I DO NOT LiKE HRE."
"MY MOM IS A BABY" (notice the mad face on the me).

On the back it starts on the bottom with:

"DAD iS fun to ... "AND MOM IS NTO"

"We HAVe the fun in oue (our) hase (house)." [with dad only, I presume].


Later in the evening I asked him about the note and we talked about what happened. Turns out he wrote the note yesterday. Niiiiise. Anyway, I guess it's a complement to be considered a mean mom.

8 Minutes and a Marshmallow

A couple of the young women in our ward replicated the Marshmallow Experiment for their psychology class (they had the kids wait 8 minutes instead of 15. Eight tortuous minutes). They filmed the kids involved, including Talmage.

Here it is on Youtube.

After Clara had eaten her fill of dirt and gagged on various pieces of nature, she was bundled off for a nap, and then the real work began:

Digging for last year's Matchbox cars.

That's right. Throw your back into it:

Over the past two days Talmage has been excavating the dirt pile from the moat with some success. Today a couple cars and one white monster truck that he was specifically looking for (how did he remember it from last summer???) were brought back to the fold.

So Durn Cute

Baby Steps

That table is painted green special for St. Patrick's Day.

Sleeping on top of the heat vent

Why she doesn't just put on clothing to stay warm is a mystery to her mother.

Catfish 2 and 3

Tal and Syd had their last day of swimming lessons. As per tradition, they got to go down the water slide and jump off the diving board...with life jackets. Sydney, after the water slide:


Last time Talmage tried the diving board he was a little tentative. Big improvement this time:



He jumped twice more, belly-flopping each time. He hefted himself out of the pool each time, with red welts on his stomach, crying, but wanting to jump again. Weird.

The Parade Must Go On

On rainy Saturday, T's preschool participated in a St. Patrick's Day Parade. The day before T&S decorated their hotwheels. We even bought a shiny green balloon guaranteed to last a week. Except Sydney was holding the balloon in the van on the way to the parade and took off the ribbon so the helium leaked out. T dragged the limpy balloon behind him anyway. It didn't take long for the crepe paper streamers to look equally sodden so the look sort of meshed.

Here the kids are really rioting it up under the tent while we waited for the parade to start.


Soon, the police motorcade passed by and the parade officially began.



But not before Sydney had complained that she was dying of hunger. I mooched a granola bar off of a more prepared friend and then waited for the candy to supplement. Hillsboro parades might be one long walking commercial rather than beauty queens on crepe-papered-floats, but they sure know how to throw out candy. Kids all along the route come prepared with bags that would make Halloween jealous.

Much better.

Talmage rode his hotwheel almost the whole way: loops, backwards, bursts of speed. He looked like he was having a great time. Finally, just towards the end he abruptly stood up and declared, "I'm done." He pushed Syd in the stroller the final stretch.

I asked the preschool director (over there on the far right) how many referrals they got from the parade initiative. She said not that many. It was fun for us, though. Good exercise, too!

Update

Briton is surely recovering from his long illness. But I knew he still had a ways to go because of this exchange this morning:

Briton: Did we have daylight savings?
Me: Yeah.
Briton: When did that happen!??!
Me: Yesterday.
Briton: Huh!

San Juan Islands

The stage was set: four days in the San Juans with the Wilde's and Taylor's. I'd never been before. Thanks for the invite!


Moral to the story: Everyone should visit the San Juan Islands at least once in their lives.
Corollary moral: Make that "as many times as possible."
Additional morals: People who live in glass houses should not rent them to families with small children (a urine-ified leather ottoman was one casualty).
Subset moral number four and etc: Pessimism wins! If you expect rain and misery, then clear skies and a slightly nippy wind makes your heart sing. (Also, avoid sharing your bedroom with your three children. It will make you say, "What the hell?!" over and over and over through the night.

Some images from the trip:

Getting some Vitamin D.

In her own world: an involved scenario is going on here.

Building a shelter

Below are pics from a hike Talmage and I went on with Karren and Sonya. Cameron and Chris watched Syd and Clara so we could do this. Which I mightily appreciate (Briton was home, working).

T, you sure have beautiful eyes, kiddo.

(Above pic taken by T)

Thneed, anyone?

Looks like a steep cliff, don't it?

Besides playing on the beach at American Camp (where a pig was shot back in the day by the British soldiers and thereby stirred up some trouble) and hiking, we played Dominion, ate good food, I got to know the Taylors better, went on a beautiful run, and met some cool people at church (one family was on a sailboat trip for the weekend).

Time to take the ferry home:




Perfect timing. It just started raining as we left. As if the Islands were sad to see us go. So poetic.

Hardy travelers, all.

Especially me. By "hardy" I mean, I hardly ate anything except sugar in order to stay awake at the wheel.




** Sorry no pics of the Taylors or of the rental, etc. If the other guys post their stuff, maybe I'll add a link here. The camera didn't get much airtime except on that one hike.

By Mrs. Barker. In the Kitchen. With Salmonella.

Before I try to catch up our recent goings on, I need to confess my grievous error.

Yesterday I planned to attend an early evening med-surg lecture. "Dinner's in the crock-pot," I sang out as I waltzed out the door. I was really proud that I'd seen to my house-wifely responsibilities such as preparing a delectable meal even though I wasn't going to be eating it with them. The house was in order (somewhat) and I was off.

Briton informed me when I got home that two bites into dinner he grew suspicious of the CHICKEN's texture. He checked the crockpot setting, which was where I'd originally set it: WARM. Not Low. Warm. And so it had been for the past four hours. The image of bajillions of salmonella buddies basking in the cozy crockpot and inviting all their friends to play, too --- it gives me the jimmies and it gives Briton food poisoning.

I had a pretty good dinner, though. It was catered by some deli. The lecture was about DVT's. So, if Briton ends up in the hospital over this, I'll know just what to do to keep him from getting blood clots. Now that's a really good wife.

Belated

The idea was to write a valentine note to each of the kids in the days leading up to VD. And also give a birthday tribute. Although I will backdate this post, it is really March 10th and I'm late on both counts. Get used to it, Clara. That's the way it rolls around here.

So, there you are - your birthday meal: spaghetti. It was fun to watch you slurp up the noodles with relish.

One years old. You survived this family! We love you so much. At one years old you delight us with your tricks: buzzing your lips, signing "light", cruising around and even taking a couple steps. I love holding you. You are your daddy's girl. In fact, it frustrates you beyond measure if you see him and can't get to him fast enough. He plays "grab legs" with you and we toss you through the air, back and forth. It makes you giggle. Sometimes you get a look that makes me wish I had magical powers to look inside your brain and learn what you are thinking (see below). You have a twinkle in your eye that already seems to catch the humor in the craziness around you (see above).

Happy Birthday, Clara!

Three Years Old

Tonight you stood on the stool and sang us impromptu songs about "Intel, Intel, Intel", and "feeling the Holy Ghost inside makes me happy." Your songs are hilarious. You like to be cuddled. Dress-ups are your gig but so is dressing-down: either an accessorized princess or a naked nelly - if it's your choice there's rarely an in-between. You like your apples whole. You like to draw pictures of people and write in your notebook. "Where's my chapstick?" and "I need my letter blanket!" are frequently heard throughout the day.
Happy Be-lated Birthday and Happy Valentine's Day, Sydney Ruth.
I love you,
Mom.

Remember This Little Guy?

This was when we still called him "Little T". Age 14 months. I love this kid. Talmage is growing up, navigating the challenges of his world and relishing new skills. Last week he got an immunization shot (secondary to my poor bookkeeping). He was very brave about the whole thing. He hunched up and clutched Mr. Bear in anticipation. When he was poked, his eyes opened wide in shock and he sharply inhaled. But he didn't cry. When it counts, Talmage can be stoic.

This morning for the second time, Talmage rode his bike while I ran. Usually I run with music. But not when I run with Talmage. Here is music to my ears: watching his little boy body, hunched over his handlebars, short legs pedaling as furiously as possible, and then hearing him holler out "Yeah-hooo!" as he thrills at his breakneck speed.


Happy Valentine's Day, Talmage.
I love you.
Mom

Tech Talk

Last night Sydney pulled out her "laptop computer" to give us a little post-prandial lecture on the grave error of pushing the "dot". Sydney doesn't mess around when she's the teacher. She requires an attentive, quiet, and happy audience. She does not require clothing. What follows is a short segment of a rather lengthy sermon.




Translation:

"[???] ... Be happy, mom. I need happy. ... And you say your ... If you push the button you'll be wrong. If you ... shhhh! Shh, Talmage. If you type your section - I'm teaching you guys. [We're listening, Syd. ... Keep going.]. So there are all sort of m's. If ... That's the wrong. If you push the dot that will be wrong."

Want some more? How 'bout in song?




Translation of sorts:

S: ... It's your section. If you turn ... the frowny face of the computer to ... computer with the ...., you see. If you ... you see. .... don't have to cry.

T: Teacher, teacher. I have a question.
S: What question do you have?
T: Next time I can be the teacher.
S: Yeah. And you can write the computer. Yeah, and you can teach me and [inhale] Robin and Briton to teach how the computers that we're teaching.
T: Yes!

Sent from my iPod

Clara Tricks

Narrator: Sonya

C: Ma ma ma ma ma
S: That girl is so silly. She say, "ma ma ma ma ma."

C: [sniffing trick]
S: She say, "shake shake." She always say "shake shake."
C: [on cue: head shake trick]

One Time in January We Went Tubing.

Contemplative Jude.

Sydney's first snow angel of her entire life.

I like this video because Clara is sprawled out in the snow as if she were sunning herself at some exotic beach side resort and also that Hilary is trying to convince an otherwise-opinioned Jude that he's having a good time.

It was fun.

Another Time in January, Briton Went to Israel

For a little work and a little play.

I'm So Glad When Daddy Comes Home.

If I Had 90 Million Dollars

Some guy won all that cash today. He bought a lottery ticket at his local Washington grocery store. What would you do with 90 million dollars? Just for funsies.

At the bottom of the article some other guy says that most lottery winners go through their money in 5 years or less. Huh. I could do it a lot quicker than that.