Sunday, September 7, 2008
Bath time
I foolishly left the girls alone in the bathtub tonight while I was typing and reading other blogs. Big mistake. You'd think I'd learn by now, but no. Everytime I do that, I get a flood on the bathroom floor. The girls like to put cups on the side of the tub, and pour water in them until they overflow...all over the floor. When I came in the bathroom to wash their hair and found what they'd done, I started to get after them for it. Bethany said, "Sorry Mommy, we're just teasing."
Cooking with Dad
Nate has started a new tradition of baking something with the girls every Sunday. He usually does a pretty good job, and the girls have a great time. He's even teaching them to do things like crack open eggs.
Today I was really tired after church and I decided to take a nap. I slept like the dead for almost three hours. At one point I vaguely remember hearing the girls running around and shrieking, but I couldn't make my body move, so I went back to sleep. The upshot of this was, I wasn't available when Nate had questions.
I'd suggested that he make banana bread today, since we had several very ripe bananas, and I wanted something to take to a friend as a thank you. Nate found a recipe in a little notebook I used in Germany. I'd add recipes as I found ones that I liked or needed, so they were all hand-written. The oven temperature was also in Celcius, since that's what they all run on in Germany. Unfortunately, Nate didn't know that. I woke up after the bread had been in the oven for about 30 minutes. I cracked the oven open to check on it, and was surprised that it wasn't very hot. At first I worried that the oven was broken or something, but then I checked the oven setting and found that it was only at 175 degrees. It didn't take me long to realize what had happened, and I changed the temperature
, but the damage was done. By the time the inside was all cooked, the outside was a little brown. I thought it would still be okay for us to eat, I just decided that I wouldn't take it to anyone. After it had cooled, I cut a piece and took a bite, and promptly spit it out. Nate wasn't home at the time, he'd gone out to a meeting, but when he came home, he asked me what I thought of the bread. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I said, "Oh, it's alright." He said, "I think it's nasty, and I'm not eating any more of it." I was relieved, because I could then throw it away without bothering him. It turns out that when he was reading the recipe, he didn't know what the little "t" behind some of the measurements was. He flipped through my little book, and in other places, I'd written "tsp", so he decided the "t" meant tablespoon, or else I'd have written "tsp", right? I just wasn't consistent in the way I'd written out recipes, and he didn't know that a little "t" is always teaspoon and a big "T" is always tablespoon. So instead of two teaspoons of baking powder, he put two tablespoons, and the same went for the teaspoon of cinnamon and 1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg. I think it was the baking powder that really killed it, though. Oh well, lesson learned for next time.
, but the damage was done. By the time the inside was all cooked, the outside was a little brown. I thought it would still be okay for us to eat, I just decided that I wouldn't take it to anyone. After it had cooled, I cut a piece and took a bite, and promptly spit it out. Nate wasn't home at the time, he'd gone out to a meeting, but when he came home, he asked me what I thought of the bread. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I said, "Oh, it's alright." He said, "I think it's nasty, and I'm not eating any more of it." I was relieved, because I could then throw it away without bothering him. It turns out that when he was reading the recipe, he didn't know what the little "t" behind some of the measurements was. He flipped through my little book, and in other places, I'd written "tsp", so he decided the "t" meant tablespoon, or else I'd have written "tsp", right? I just wasn't consistent in the way I'd written out recipes, and he didn't know that a little "t" is always teaspoon and a big "T" is always tablespoon. So instead of two teaspoons of baking powder, he put two tablespoons, and the same went for the teaspoon of cinnamon and 1/2 teaspoon of nutmeg. I think it was the baking powder that really killed it, though. Oh well, lesson learned for next time.A little of this, a little of that
It feels like summer is really finishing up here. The weather has gotten a little cooler, and some leaves have even started to turn and fall off. Bethany was most fascinated by that today after we got home from church--the neighbor's tree had leaves all over the ground around it.
The Saturday before Labor Day, we went to a water park near us. I found out that active and retired military get in free, and their family members get in for $3.00. When we got there, we also found that the girls are young enough that they were free, too, so the whole trip cost us $3.00 (plus gas, of course). It was nice. They had a wave pool, a lazy river, a regular pool (which we didn't go in), a couple of slides and a kiddie area. Meagan actually had the most fun in the wave pool. We went in the deeper part and just rode up and down with the waves. She thought it was great.
I've been feeling a little tired and naseated lately, so last night Nate decided to give me a break, and he took the girls out for the evening. They went to a little pond and fed hard hamburger buns to the ducks and geese, then went to a pet store, picked up some dinner, and finished off at a park with a huge wooden playground. The kids had a great time--they really like the playground, because there's so much to do there. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to ban them from going there anymore. Everytime Bethany comes home from there, she has slivers, and last night was no exception. She had one in each hand. You have to understand something about Bethany--she hates to let me look at any of her "owies" unless I'm putting a bandaid on, and that's all I'm allowed to do. She hates the doctor, too, and screams and cries every time we go. So, last night, I get out the tweezers to get the slivers out, and she totally freaks out. I couldn't hold her myself, so I had to get Nate to help. The slivers were deep enough that I had to get a pin to dig a bit. Then she REALLY freaked out, and started puking. Yep, partially digested hot dog in a brown root beer sauce all over me, Nate, Bethany and the floor. Yummm. I almost lost it myself. So I stripped her down to her diaper, wrapped her in a towel, and tried again. It took 30 minutes and everything I had in me to hold her still long enough to get out two silly little splinters. At one point, Nate even went out and gave himself a splinter on purpose, so Bethany could see me get it out, and see that it wasn't a big deal. It didn't help, but it was a nice thought. She still screamed and cried the whole time. Yikes. I hope she never breaks a bone, and heaven help me when I have to take her to the dentist. I'll have to knock her out just for an exam.
The Saturday before Labor Day, we went to a water park near us. I found out that active and retired military get in free, and their family members get in for $3.00. When we got there, we also found that the girls are young enough that they were free, too, so the whole trip cost us $3.00 (plus gas, of course). It was nice. They had a wave pool, a lazy river, a regular pool (which we didn't go in), a couple of slides and a kiddie area. Meagan actually had the most fun in the wave pool. We went in the deeper part and just rode up and down with the waves. She thought it was great.
I've been feeling a little tired and naseated lately, so last night Nate decided to give me a break, and he took the girls out for the evening. They went to a little pond and fed hard hamburger buns to the ducks and geese, then went to a pet store, picked up some dinner, and finished off at a park with a huge wooden playground. The kids had a great time--they really like the playground, because there's so much to do there. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to ban them from going there anymore. Everytime Bethany comes home from there, she has slivers, and last night was no exception. She had one in each hand. You have to understand something about Bethany--she hates to let me look at any of her "owies" unless I'm putting a bandaid on, and that's all I'm allowed to do. She hates the doctor, too, and screams and cries every time we go. So, last night, I get out the tweezers to get the slivers out, and she totally freaks out. I couldn't hold her myself, so I had to get Nate to help. The slivers were deep enough that I had to get a pin to dig a bit. Then she REALLY freaked out, and started puking. Yep, partially digested hot dog in a brown root beer sauce all over me, Nate, Bethany and the floor. Yummm. I almost lost it myself. So I stripped her down to her diaper, wrapped her in a towel, and tried again. It took 30 minutes and everything I had in me to hold her still long enough to get out two silly little splinters. At one point, Nate even went out and gave himself a splinter on purpose, so Bethany could see me get it out, and see that it wasn't a big deal. It didn't help, but it was a nice thought. She still screamed and cried the whole time. Yikes. I hope she never breaks a bone, and heaven help me when I have to take her to the dentist. I'll have to knock her out just for an exam.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Nighttime ritual
It seems to take us longer and longer to get the kids to bed every night. In theory, they get pajamas on, we read a story, we read a page out of the kid's Book of Mormon (the one with all the cartoon pictures), sing a song, say a prayer, and then leave. Oh yeah, and somewhere in there they brush their teeth. That's a lot of stuff, but we've been doing it for so long, that they freak out if we try to skip anything. In reality, there's a lot more to it than that. I often have to chase Meagan down to get her pajamas on. She thinks it's the funniest thing in the world right now to run the other way when I call her, laughing all the while. The laughing is really irritating. Then we have to read each of them a story, because they never want the same one. Then I have to hunt through the house to find their stuffed kitties, because how could I possibly expect them to sleep without them? Oh, and then there's a potty breaks, and then they each have to have a song. And it's the same song every night from each of them. Bethany always wants "Drops on roses" and Meagan wants "Row row my boat". It gets very tedious singing the same thing over and over every night. Sometimes I do put my foot down and say it's my turn to choose a song, but not often. Then getting them to calm down and be reverant for the prayer is usually a chore. It's probably not good to be angry during every prayer, but it happens all too often. Then just when we've turned out the lights, and I think I've escaped, the whining starts. Bethany needs water, Meagan wants another kiss, Bethany didn't get a hug...and on and on. Sheesh. When I've finally gotten out of the room, and have just sat down on the couch to relax is usually when the crying starts. Last night was kind of funny. Meagan had rolled sideways and her head got stuck in the ladder. She wasn't hurt at all, but in the dark she couldn't find her way out.
Another nighttime goodie they've started to pull is taking their diapers off in the middle of the night. If I catch it, then we're okay, but if not, then they usually wet the bed. That will wake Meagan up, and she cries. Here is where I run into a big difficulty with them both sleeping on the same bed. The last time Meagan did this, Bethany was still sound asleep. I took off the sheet and mattress pad from Meagan's end of the bed and rolled it up into the middle. Then I covered just her end with a new pad and sheet and put her back to bed. I had to wait until morning to finish changing out the sheets. If Bethany wets the bed, she'll tend to sleep through it, which is why she is still wearing diapers to bed. A few nights ago, they both pulled the same stunt in the same night. At least I only had to change the sheets once that time.
Another nighttime goodie they've started to pull is taking their diapers off in the middle of the night. If I catch it, then we're okay, but if not, then they usually wet the bed. That will wake Meagan up, and she cries. Here is where I run into a big difficulty with them both sleeping on the same bed. The last time Meagan did this, Bethany was still sound asleep. I took off the sheet and mattress pad from Meagan's end of the bed and rolled it up into the middle. Then I covered just her end with a new pad and sheet and put her back to bed. I had to wait until morning to finish changing out the sheets. If Bethany wets the bed, she'll tend to sleep through it, which is why she is still wearing diapers to bed. A few nights ago, they both pulled the same stunt in the same night. At least I only had to change the sheets once that time.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
In one ear, and out the other...?
I’ve discovered that while my words may not necessarily go in one ear and out the other while yelling at my children, the meaning certainly does. For example, Meagan has taken to running around, yelling various chastisements at Bethany and me. We were sitting on the couch humming together, when she stormed up and yelled, “Guys! Wake up!” Okay, I admit that I don’t ever yell that one (I’m quite thankful, normally, when they are asleep), but it was pretty funny. She also likes to run around yelling, “Be nice” at random intervals. Too bad she hasn’t figured out what that one means yet.
Another example of this was at the toy store the other day. The girls found some ridiculous ATM thing with lots of buttons and a silly robotic voice asking if they wanted to make a withdrawal. Of course they loved it. They sat in the aisle and played with them for several minutes. I warned them up front that we were NOT taking those things home. When they protested that they liked them, I said, “Too bad!” Nate was trying to interest Bethany in a new train, which was the ostensible reason we were there, but she merely glanced at it and said, “Too bad!”
Today we were out running errands and it got to lunchtime. I was hungry, and toyed with the idea of stopping at Cici’s for lunch, because it was there, and it‘s cheap. The girls aren’t very good with pizza, though, so I asked Bethany if she wanted pizza before actually hauling them in there. To my surprise, she actually said she wanted some, but I was still doubtful, and eventually decided to scrap the idea. On the way home, though, the idea grew on me, and Bethany kept insisting that she wanted pizza, so I decided to order one for lunch. Of course, as soon as the hot box of pizza was on the table and I opened it, she declared, “I don’t want pizza.” Argh! Oh well, that’s more for me, right?
In the midst of all the errands today, Bethany started crying. I looked back at her and asked her what was wrong. One of her toes was a little cracked, a souvenir of wearing sandals all summer. She said to me, “Bethany’s getting broken. I need a bandaid.” Very interesting syntax there.
Another example of this was at the toy store the other day. The girls found some ridiculous ATM thing with lots of buttons and a silly robotic voice asking if they wanted to make a withdrawal. Of course they loved it. They sat in the aisle and played with them for several minutes. I warned them up front that we were NOT taking those things home. When they protested that they liked them, I said, “Too bad!” Nate was trying to interest Bethany in a new train, which was the ostensible reason we were there, but she merely glanced at it and said, “Too bad!”
Today we were out running errands and it got to lunchtime. I was hungry, and toyed with the idea of stopping at Cici’s for lunch, because it was there, and it‘s cheap. The girls aren’t very good with pizza, though, so I asked Bethany if she wanted pizza before actually hauling them in there. To my surprise, she actually said she wanted some, but I was still doubtful, and eventually decided to scrap the idea. On the way home, though, the idea grew on me, and Bethany kept insisting that she wanted pizza, so I decided to order one for lunch. Of course, as soon as the hot box of pizza was on the table and I opened it, she declared, “I don’t want pizza.” Argh! Oh well, that’s more for me, right?
In the midst of all the errands today, Bethany started crying. I looked back at her and asked her what was wrong. One of her toes was a little cracked, a souvenir of wearing sandals all summer. She said to me, “Bethany’s getting broken. I need a bandaid.” Very interesting syntax there.
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