Oh Halloween.
This is the trial of our "No Noggin" costume. This is the only thing the Personal Assistant has talked about all month-being No Noggin for Halloween. Our neighbor made him promise not to fall again asleep this year so he could see the spooky No Noggin costume.
I do not love baby gates. I mean, I love that they allow me to take a shower with the kids safely contained in their play room and keep the baby from falling down the stairs, but they are not pretty. And they rarely fit at the bottom of the stairs. And the good ones are $60 each and they still break quickly. Only two of my gates survived the move-plastic parts broke and I had to salvage parts from two gates to rebuild the gate at the top of the stairs. Boo. I decided to build something a bit more fun (and stylish and cheap) for the first floor gates.
As some of you know, The Personal Assistant is not allowed to have any sugar. None. Zip. Zelch. But... 'tis the season of cookies, and pie, and candy canes, and hot chocolate. And he's two, so it is extra hard to watch him forgo all of the sweet treat fun. And as a bonus, I am allergic to eggs, so breakfast casseroles are also out. Oh, and I am hosting this year, so I probably shouldn't just serve toast and cereal.
But I think I found a solution...for Christmas breakfast we will be dining on Chocolate Cheesecake Crepes! They are divine, and easy, and make ahead and freeze-able, and totally egg and sugar free, but no one will know but you and me.
Christmas around here is a DIY fest, and I love it. I might be crazy, but I grew up getting DIY gifts made lovingly by my parents and I think it is a great tradition to carry on. We have a rule that Santa gifts should be conceivably hand made, if not by us (me) then by some one else. It is a great way to support local (and ot so local) artisans and give simpler toys to our kiddo that leave lots of room for open ended creative play-the kind that builds imagination and inquisitive minds.
That said, stocking stuffing can get pricey fast! A little DIY spirit can also stretch the Christmas budget with out skimping on fun! Follow the jump for my picks for toddler friendly stocking stuffers any boy is bound to love!
The Hubster asked me to make a "traditional" apple pie this year. No rosemary infused crust, no citrus in the filling. "Fine," I said, "but it IS going to be a mile high, and have smoky molasses notes in the filling, and the lattice crust will be extra dense and smothered in melted butter, cinnamon, and sugar, and you can't stop me."
My Personal Assistant loves all things construction. (It might have something to do with the number of site visits I take him on, but every parent drags their kid to work at some point right?) Diggers, dump trucks, skid steers, flat beds, transporters, front end loaders, steam rollers, tractors, cranes...you name it, he loves it. Oatmeal is not oatmeal any more, it is "construction zone oatmeal". Nothing is picked up with our hands, only with our "crane hands". We even have a scripted conversation about diggers that we have every time we get in the car. The script must not vary, this is not improv. This is serious.
Him: "Can we see some diggers today?"
Me: "Perhaps, if we keep our eyes open."
I got the idea that perhaps he needed a construction zone of his own.
I think my Personal Assistant knows I am stressed.
He rubbed my back today when I burst into tears after the latest bit of "Not terrible, just terribly inconvenient" news and said, "I think you are just having a frustrating day Mommy." Poor kid. He is two-and-a-half and already doomed to a life of unrequited empathy.
Quick & easy, Chocolate Peanut Butter Oatmeal is a mostly healthy breakfast a toddler will actually agree to eat. A real stick to your ribs, protein packed hot breakfast in under 5 minutes. And it tastes like a cross between a Reese's cup and a chocolate no-bake cookie. Yum! You will need a few basic things:
During the summer I hear a lot about vacations from other families. Things like, "I am really looking forward to our trip to the beach, but it is four hours in the car with the kids, ugh." I just giggle to myself. We take a 12 hour car trip with the Personal Assistant twice a year to visit family, and believe it or not, it's mostly enjoyable.
I used to hate Thomas the Train. I mean really, that song. Ugh. But now I really have grown to love that little blue engine and his friends. Why? Because I can use him to manipulate my kid.
The division of labor around these here blog parts is that Daisy writes for Thursday/Friday and I write for Monday/Tuesday, which usually happens on Sunday/Monday evening respectfully. Only yesterday was my seven year anniversary and the night before it was my turn to teach Wee School, my neighborhood's free parent run summer school for tots, and I have been feeling really sick, so I skipped the writing, figuring the five of you would understand. Unfortunately, Wee School got rained out. And I was totally bummed. I had 8+ cups of fresh sidewalk finger paint and a quart of fresh frozen wacky sidewalk chalk plus all the fun water activities I had planned, and no one was going to see it. Then I was all...OMG I have a blog. (Literally, that is exactly what I thought. Total weirdo, I know.) So sweet blog readers, behold, I present all five of you with sidewalk finger paint!
As much as I have been looking forward to teasing Daisy, I and been also avoiding this post, because, well, it feels genuinely embarrassing on both a personal and professional level. I hate it when that happens. I had to call poison control this spring when I found my Personal Assistant chewing down on my grape hyacinth because, in his words, "they look like little purple beans!" And according to the Internet, those special purple beans were not so good for eating and possibly dangerous. This was news to me.
When I came down stairs Saturday morning with my hair down The Personal Assistant said "No Mommy! Brush your hair! Put your hair up! Go be right back!" And backed up to hide behind the Hubster. Apparently he does not like my hair down. Not. One. Bit.
This post is not about THAT Humpty Dance, or the other one. It's about making my Personal Assistant his very own Humpty Dumpty doll. So no juicy tidbits here...but I will admit to singing and dancing to a ridiculous made up song while I ironed Humpty's parts, and announced to the Hubster (who was doing his best to ignore me and watch some sport game called "March Madness". Whatever.) Look at me! I'm doing the Humpty Dance!" (I was not doing the Humpty Dance, I am not that cool.)
Or personal assistant woke us up at 4am. He would not settle down. Even when I brought him to the big big bed for a snuggle. Daisy will confirm that the Hubster is the most reasonable guy you could hope to meet. Which makes his interactions with our unreasonable 2 year old so amusing.
