No Vacuum Necessary

Depending on how you look at it, we've now reached a key stage in our lives.


We either need to vacuum constantly and painstakingly,


Or we just sit back and let our little Ashley--who has given up scooting and is now crawling all over the place with a microscopic eye--do it all for us.


I know which direction I'm leaning. Do you?

Skillz

Ashley is almost mobile! Things will change a lot for us when she can move around more and get into everything, so I have mixed feelings, but it is fun to see her figuring out how to move. She has a good amount of patience for it. As it is now, she never stays sitting for long. She is always trying to get somewhere else, usually where Everett's toys are. Fortunately Everett is good about picking out one of his toys and giving it to her.

First Step: Push yourself up with your arms.

Second Step: Begin to lift your knees.

Third Step: Up on all fours, but where to go from here?

Fourth Step: Oh, I see.

Everett loves to encourage her to crawl. If he notices that she is attempting to crawl, he will call me over and have me lay down next to him so we can face her and call to her together. Sometimes when she is sitting up, he thinks she should be trying to crawl so he will knock her over (gently, for a toddler) and try to get her positioned. You can guess how much she likes that.


Yesterday we left a trail of marshmallows for her to follow, and she figured out how to move like an inchworm to get to them. She realized she could dig her toes into the ground, push her bottom up in the air while lowering her head, and scoot forward. Little by little, she ate the marshmallows. She was a little tired by the time I shot this video, so she isn't that happy in it (and she's moving slowly). Most of you have seen a baby scoot before, so this is nothing new; this video is mostly for the grandparents.

Are You Afraid of the Dark? (Or, Longest Post Ever)

Whenever I am asked what I am afraid of, one thing comes immediately to mind: the dark.

I don't know what it says about me that I think of a dark closet in a dark room before I think of a bloodthirsty mugger attacking my husband, but there you have it just the same. Sorry, honey.

To this day, if I know Joel is going to be home late at night, I cannot will myself to go to bed alone. I always end up falling asleep on the couch with the TV keeping a steady stream of flickering light going. Ok, I'm lying. I'm never that brave. A lamp always has to keep the TV company. So yes. I, a grown woman and mother of two, am helplessly reliant on a little 60-watt bulb. I don't know what this says about me, either.

I can never remember a time in which I wasn't afraid of the dark, or the purported things in it. I remember reading a book long ago when I was a child called "The Ankle Grabber". The book really isn't that scary but the whole idea terrified me. I had an ankle grabber under my bed for years after that (later it was big, nasty snakes). This is when I mastered the turning-off-the-light-and-runningly-leaping-into-bed-in-two-seconds-flat approach to going to bed.

When I was nine years old I went to a birthday party of a girl down the street. They showed Jurrasic Park at the party. I knew I wasn't allowed to watch it, but I rationalized that I would close my eyes during the scary parts. You can guess how well that worked. I watched it, told myself it wasn't that scary, and promptly went home and lied by omission to my parents about watching the movie.

For days months years I was terrified of velociraptors. I had horribly mean parents who decided to let me live in a cold basement room with no windows and doors to two, count 'em, TWO storage closets. I would lay awake at night, peering through the dark at the brass doorknobs. Haunted chills would creep up and down my spine as I just knew they were turning. . .turning. . .turning, a very hungry predator lurking behind.

I eventually became scared enough that I figured I should come clean with my parents. For one thing, I felt guilty for lying, and for another, I hoped that once I cleared the air on my deception, my nightmarish thoughts would find their way to some obscure box in the back of my mind.

It didn't work. Those stinkin' velociraptors haunted me for a long, long time. I had numerous velociraptor nightmares, including one I remember all too vividly that involved me cowering under my bed while four velociraptors tore through the top of the mattress to get to me. Thankfully I awoke seconds before their dagger-like claws reached my face.

Then, when I was in college, I saw the movie The Ring with some friends. I'm quite belated in saying this, but if you haven't seen this movie, DON'T. Just. . .don't do it. It creeped me out for a long, long time after that. I enjoy suspensful movies, but I do not enjoy movies that leave me with an unnerving, evil, creepy feeling. Joel laughs at me for being scared about that movie. And I say sure, I have no idea why I'd be a little creeped out by some crazy girl with a half-rotted face that climbs out of a well and through your tv screen, only to kill you by looking at you. Oh, and your corpse will have the same rotted face she does, and anytime someone finds your dead body, hair-raising music will start blasting from the background. Oh, and there's no way to stop her, see, because actually she's already dead, and can come out of radios and tvs and find you anywhere you go. And, you know, can move around all terrifyingly and abnormally, and has super-strength. Even Superman would be hiding and sobbing like a little girl.

Excuse me while I go retrieve my eyeballs. I think I rolled them right out of my head and under the refrigerator. That was a pretty weak-sounding synopsis.

The premise aside, this movie is still creepy. Thank you, cinematic artists, thank you for that. I owe you You owe me one.

If Joel is still listening by the time I finish explaining to him that this movie is indeed terrifying and impossibly terrifying, oh, and did I mention terrifying? He will say to me:

"Well, it doesn't sound all that bad, see, because it's NOT REAL. You know, pretend? Like, as in, she doesn't exist?"

Hmph. He has no sense of reality. Because, you know, obviously I'm the sane one here.


Now, when I am alone at night, I find that I have lost the ability to direct myself to bed until about 1 in the morning, when I am tired enough to go through with it. I'll make my rounds, ensuring that the door is locked and no gas is leaking from the stove. I'll go into my room and turn the closet light on, then return to the hall to flip off the light outside my room. Sometimes my closet light is enough, but sometimes I also need to turn on the lamp in our room. Then, I'll have to take a book to bed with me. If I don't, I have no choice but to lay there and think about all the things that could be lurking around in the dark areas of my apartment, and then consider the possibility of Joel's plane crashing or some random murderer coming to his hotel room.

About the time I've planned out Joel's funeral, where I'll be living when I'm forty, and how I'll be keeping up with the kids' expenses, I'll fall asleep.

Now, in case you've made it this far (whew!) through my fraidy cat history, I submit:

The How To Go To Bed List If You Are Also a Scaredy:

1. Don't ever turn off a house light if you will have to walk across a dark room. Just. Don't. Do it.

2. Never have the blinds open when it is dark outside. All those masked murderers, thieves, and creepy things will be able to see you from outside and know your exact wherabouts in the house. Don't say I didn't warn you.

3. Make sure you always keep a light on in your room, preferably in the closet (don't think this means you can still leave that door open). Because we all know that the scariest things come out of the closet.

4. If, for some reason, you get in bed and realize you forgot to turn on the closet light, and if, for some reason, you forgot to close the closet door, it's too late. Forget it, stay in bed, face away from the closet, and pull up the covers. To go anywhere now is just asking for it. And whatever you do, do not look at the closet.

5. If you wake up and have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, first consider what it would be like to put your foot on the cold, dark, floor, right next to that dark space under the bed. Then consider what it will be like to walk into another dark area. Then, realize that you're better off staying in bed. If your bladder feels like it has swollen to the size of a pick-up truck, it's still better to keep safe in bed than risk certain, terrifying death.

6. If your kids wake up during the night, they're out of luck. You're stuck cowering under the blankets. If something happened to you, what would happen to them?


You're welcome. If by some miracle of perseverance you've made it this far, do you have anything to add?

Two Kids in a Tub

Everett's hair has been long for a while now, so I decided to give him a haircut yesterday. This is no small feat with both children awake, neither of them wanting to participate, but we got it done anyway! It is easy when we have the clippers. Usually I do the top a little longer, but this time I just buzzed the whole thing. It was much easier.

So here's the before. . .




Here's the after. Much better, don't you think? I do like it a little longer but it tends to look unruly that way.



I decided to give both the kids a bath. They have actually only had a bath together once before this, and Ashley wasn't happy then so they didn't really have a chance to play. It was fun to see them interact more this time.

Everett had to give some of his animals a bath. This was a hit with Ashley as well.




Mama Hippo! he says. He has a larger hippo and a smaller hippo, so we call them the mama and the baby. I think they've been his favorite ever since we started that.

I just realized my razor is in the background of the picture. Don't worry. Usually I put it out of reach when Everett takes a bath, but I must have forgotten this time.

Splashing is always fun, but especially with bubbles.

Hamming it up.
And now that I'm looking at Ashley more in this picture, the expression on her face looks a little familiar. . .


Oh yes. That's what I was thinking of. This is Everett, a little over a year ago. Do you think they look somewhat similar? I'm not sure.



Well, maybe a little. I guess you can tell that they're siblings, anyway.

One thing I am sure about, though, is that Ashley does love her brother.

And just to top it all off, here is a video of them playing together. I noticed in this video that I frequently tell Everett to not put anything on her head. Yes, this is an accurate representation of our hours together every day. No, it still doesn't work most of the time.

(They don't really do much in this video, but watch if you want!)

Joking

What's an auditor?
Someone who arrives after the battle and bayonets all the wounded.


Why did the auditor cross the road?
Because he looked in the file and that's what they did last year.


Why did he cross back?
So he could charge the client for travel expenses.


Why did the auditor get run over crossing the road?
Auditors never do risk assessment well until after the accident happens.


What do you call an accountant without a spreadsheet?
Lost


If an accountant's wife can't get to sleep, what does she say?
"Tell me about work today, dear"


Why do accountants get excited on Saturdays?
They can wear casual clothes to work


How do you know when an accountant's on holidays?
He doesn't wear a tie to work and comes in after 8.30.


What do accountants suffer from that ordinary people don't?
Depreciation.



The accountant had just read the story of Cinderella to his four-year-old daughter for the first time. The little girl was fascinated by the story, especially the part where the pumpkin turns into a golden coach. Suddenly she piped up, "Daddy, when the pumpkin turned into a golden coach, would that be classed as income or a long-term capital gain?"


A fellow walks into a hospital and sees two doctors down on their hands and knees in one of the flower beds. He goes over and says, "Can I help? Have you lost something? "
"No," says one of the doctors. "We're about to do a heart transplant on an accountant and we're looking for a suitable stone."


(accountant jokes found here)


What do accountants wives do while their husbands are away during busy season?
Try to not lose their mind!
Scavenge in the kitchen for dinner!
Put the kids to bed early!
Count down the days to normalcy!
Heave a sigh of relief during nap times and bed times!
Laugh!
Relax! Your taxes have been done since January!

Because My Thoughts Aren't Always Organized

• This weekend I am a mother of five. Well, I'm a caretaker of five. I'm watching my three youngest siblings while my parents are out of town. Since I'm just their sister I get all of the fun but none of the parenting responsibility. Plus, I have people who are excited to play with their nephew under the same roof as us again. That is always a treat.
  
  
• I have discovered that I like being in charge of five kids, all of different ages and with different needs. I enjoy sending them out the door with freshly-packed lunches and asking them about their homework.
  
  
• I know I can only say I am enjoying this because of the fact that I don't have to wake up and have all this responsibility every day. Get back to me in 15 years.
  
  
• My sister has a lazy cat. He doesn't even want to go outside. He likes to lay on the arms of the couch. When he does, the fat around his middle takes over and it makes him look more like a furry, gelatinous, pudding-filled pillow with arms and legs and a tail hanging out than an actual animal.
  
  
• I shouldn't say this about an animal who entertains Everett and captivates Ashley, but I still get a strange sort of pleasure from doing so.
  
  
• I can never cook rice properly. I cooked rice last night and it was an overcooked, mushy mess. But I made everyone eat it anyway.
  
  
• Everett woke up in the middle of the night two nights ago (our first night up at my parent's) and decided he had to have his bottle. This, after three days of no griping about it whatsoever. I even let him come sleep with me. It didn't work. He was very tired, so he got mad very quickly, bringing him to the point of no return as he began to go into hysterics. Ashley had just gotten back to sleep after a feeding, but woke up and started crying because, hello, some kid was screaming in her space. *Cue time-filling narrative music* Two hours later, I'm holding both upset children on the bed (because they refused anything else) and falling asleep as they are yelling in my ears. Moral of the story: Don't blame me if I'm deaf by the time I'm 30. Alternate moral of the story: I am sorry to those of you who were trying to sleep through that. But mostly I am jealous.
  
  
• Most of the time I am glad my children have lungs that function well enough that they can yell and scream.
  
  
• I like Indian food, especially curries. We had some last night, and it was pretty good.
  
  
• I think it is terrible that Joel has to work tomorrow, aka Valentine's Day. Forget the fact that getting contrived romance out of him is tougher than milking a duck, it is the principle that counts, whether we had plans or not!
  
  
• I always have to get waterproof mascara because my eyes run a lot. There was a new kind at the store today I wanted to get, but they didn't have the waterproof version of it yet so I couldn't. I picked a different kind I have never gotten before. Inevitably I will hate it and wish I had gotten my old standby: Maybelline full and soft.
  
  
• I have this theory that all mascaras are the same; it is only the packaging that is different, and that the companies just spend a lot on marketing the same basic product. (yes, I know this probably isn't true, but I never get the really expensive stuff so I don't know from experience.)
  
  
• When Everett was eight months old (as Ashley will be this month), I was already baby hungry. I'm not that way at all this time.
  
  
• I wish I had a bike. I would love to start biking. I could see myself doing bike marathons more easily than I could see myself running them. And that is a tempting achievement. It is a goal of mine to do this some day.
  
  
• I like to make goals that I have no possibility of completing in the near future. It makes the underachiever in me leap with energy.
  
  
• I also like to subject anyone who reads this blog to my unimportant, even monotonous thoughts. But that is just the kind of considerate person I am.
  
  
• You're welcome. :)
  

Free at last!

Well, this is a big day in the Johnson household.

We finally did it.

(Actually, Joel is the one who did it, but who's counting?)

We did that thing I've been dreading and putting off for ages.

We got Everett off the bottle!

It is a little funny that this is even an issue, considering the fact that Everett refused the bottle until after he was six months old, but it is. He has been sleeping with a bottle full of water for some time now, and while I was comfortable knowing he wasn't allowed to have it when he was awake, I always had this nagging feeling that he should be done with it by now.

Joel has threatened to take it away from him numerous times, but I always discouraged him from it because I knew that I would be the one to deal with all the backlash, and I just wasn't ready. "Get Ashley sleeping through the night again," I said, "And then I'll have the energy to think about it."

But, Sunday night we returned late from visiting my family, and Everett had naturally fallen asleep in the car. Joel decided then and there to cut him off from the bottle cold turkey--Everett had woken up, but was still pretty tired. I had many reasons to disagree with him (not the least of which was my mental schedule of slowly decreasing its usage during naptime, and transferring his dependency to a different comfort item), but I told Joel it was his battle and let it be. I was sure it wouldn't work and that we'd be back to square one, and that if anything, it would be even harder the next time we tried.

And just because I needed humbling, I'm sure, it worked. Joel told Everett he was too big to have a bottle and that from now on he would sleep without it, and that was it! Done! Everett accepted it as fact and moved on.

I am amazed. We did this with no fuss, no confusion, and no drawn-out process. I never would have predicted this. I thought it might get to the point where he is three and we have to tell him the "bottle fairy" is coming to claim his bottle and he would find a present in its place in the morning.

The best part is, I have my scapegoat. Once in a while Everett asks for the bottle again, but all I have to do is remind him that he is not to have it anymore. After that, he will nod solemnly and comment, "Pop." (Papa), because he remembers that Joel was the one who took it away.

What an event! I'm so thrilled, I'm surprised I don't have firecrackers and whistles exploding out of my fingernails.

Happiness is. . .

Watching a favorite movie with a friend.
(and holding a contest to see who can stand closest to the screen.)

Playing with play-dough,

Engineering a train escapade,



Helping to make cookies,


and having the freedom to be a little silly along the way,

Eating warm chocolate chip cookies, straight from the oven.

(but, happiness is NOT knowing you can't have one)

It is jumping onto a humongous pile of pillows and stuffed animals. . .

. . .maybe stopping for a snuggle here,

and a laugh there.

It is climbing around in unorthodox ways.

And,

It is being able to watch it all later, as many times as you want.

Picnic Time

We've had such good weather this weekend (60 degrees, anyone?) that we decided on Saturday we had to take a picnic to enjoy it. We stopped at McDonald's on the way--we're all about eating healthily nowadays--and had a wonderful time.


Everett got to play with his soccer ball and his Papa at the same time. . .

What a treat!

. . .and he's still young enough to be completely and utterly amazed with anything his father does.

We got to watch the birds

And we got to drink soda pop, a real event in our family.




And Ashley and I got to relax together. She had a bad cold but we thought the fresh air might do her some good. I think it was rejuvenating for all of us. As you can see, she took turns looking at the camera and at the boys, fascinated by all of it.



Do you think we look alike?

The Best Sound

Right now I am listening to the sound of two little boys squealing with laughter,
jabbering wildly, and running excitedly.

Jumping into a humongous pile of pillows and stuffed animals will do that to you.

I don't even mind if they wake up the baby.

It is enchanting.

Are you jealous?

Everett, Part II

I remembered some more things about Everett, and I thought I'd share them. Someday I'm going to make some of this blog into a book because these posts are so great for documenting little things the kids grow out of.

If you tell Everett something he'll get excited about, such as, "Guess what! I have a treat for you!" or "After you put your clothes in the laundry basket, we can make some muffins!" or lately, "Do you want to go out in the snow?" He will respond with widened, excited eyes and a mouth forming a tiny O, while he exhales a quiet little "oooooooohhhhhhhhhh" sound. It gets me every time.

Everett has recently started saying "wahoo!" all the time. You can guess where he got that one. I am here to tell you that he sounds a whole lot cuter saying it than I do. It sounds more like a quick "ooh-hooo", and he says it for the littlest things. It is very fun.

Also, if something comes apart or breaks, or even if something falls down, Everett breaks out into a mournful and urgent "No, no, no, no, no!" bringing it to me in his little hands as solemnly as a priest. Fortunately he still believes I can fix everything.

Recently I started a water fight with Joel. Well, technically Everett did it. Joel was asleep on the couch and it was time for him to be getting up, so I gave Everett a tiny bit of water in a cup to go dump on him. In order to ensure that he actually got Joel wet, I directed him to put the water on his nose. Well, he did, and it went right up Joel's nose, which gave him quite the wake-up call! Later Joel got me wet, much to Everett's amazement. I don't think it crossed Everett's mind that he could throw water on his momma. Then I got Joel wet. Then Joel got me wet. (We're talking small amounts of water here, people). Everett suffers from something called "having parents who both always have to have the last laugh." It's a terrible affliction.

Last night I gave Everett a little more water to put on Joel. He was ecstatic! He would start to get really excited and make a little noise, then I would hear him quiet himself and say "shhhh". He crept into the living room only to discover that at that very moment, Joel had left to go change his clothes in the bedroom. So the practical joke was ruined, and Joel ended up throwing the water on me. Everett was shocked and pointed out to me several times that Papa got me wet. He was equal parts disapproving and fascinated (and yes, he's right where I want him on this, thank you).

So. . .after all this, Everett asked for a drink this morning with a peculiar smile on his face. I gave it to him and when my attention was turned to Ashley, he took it in the bathroom and dumped it all on Joel, who was in the bath! It's just too bad Joel was already wet, or maybe Everett would have won the battle. Fortunately he always (except this once, go figure) drinks from a cup with a lid unless he is sitting with us at the dinner table. I can see all sorts of ways this scenario could get bigger and messier. I think we'll have to instigate a no-water-fights-unless-Mom-starts-it rule. Hah, as though that will work. This boy has too much Joel in him to heed a silly rule like that.

Apron Strings

A little while ago, I received a package from my Grandmother. It was wonderful! It had two baby blankets in it (with matching burp cloths), three books that Everett immediately fell in love with, and these aprons, which my Aunt made and my Grandma picked out for the kids:

(yes, Ashley has very crazy hair, complete with a cowlick)

You can't see them too well in this picture, but they are very, very cute. Everett's has a bird on it, and Ashley's has a little cupcake with beading for the sprinkles. These are perfect because Everett loves to help me out in the kitchen, and I know Ashley will eventually get a lot of use out of hers, too. I don't know if my Aunt sells these or not, but she should! She is very talented. Maybe if my cousins read this they can let me know.

Rub a dub dub

Pork loin was on sale this week at the grocery store (it still is at Bloom, until Jan 3rd), so I picked a big one up and hacked it into a few pieces. We are eating one today with this rub on it:

• 2 1/2 pounds boneless pork loin roast
• 1 1/4 cups brown sugar
• 2/3 cup sugar
• 3 tablespoons coarsely ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons kosher salt
• 2 teaspoons ground ginger
• 4 1/2 teaspoons garlic powder
• 4 1/2 teaspoons onion salt
• 1 tablespoon dry mustard
• 1 1/2 teaspoons crushed red pepper (cayenne)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons ground red pepper (cayenne)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons ground cumin
• 1 1/2 teaspoons paprika
• 3/4 teaspoon dried thyme, crushed

I haven't tried it yet, as it is still cooking, but it smells delicious. I didn't have dry mustard so I used the regular kind you put on sandwiches. I don't know if that will drastically change it or not, but we'll see. There is plenty of rub left over and it is supposed to be good on chicken as well, so I think we'll definitely use it again.

Update: Because of the sugars in the rub, the drippings turned into a really nice glaze. I thought it was very good, even though I had no cumin or thyme, and I added enough mustard that it made it slightly pastey instead of being a dry rub.