Random Ramblings

Holiday Confusion

A couple of days before Thanksgiving I went to the store. The gas station in front of the store was crazy. No pumps open, cars circling for an opening. Cue my confusion. Was there an apocalypse I wasn't aware of? Did something happen in the Middle East and now there's a run on oil? Why oh why don't I listen to talk radio?

Then I went into the store and it was a madhouse. Like a bunch of toddlers trying to evade naptime. While hopped up on marshmallow fluff. Then it hit me: it was right before Thanksgiving and people were getting their food, filling up their gas tanks on their way to vacation. It bothers me that every Thanksgiving and Christmas I'm confused by the rush of people. You'd think I would've learned by now. But no, I wander around, feeling slightly put-out that others are impinging on my grocery shopping and wondering why there is so much frozen poultry in the store.

Life with Noah

What a ball of cuteness and terror this little guy is.

 He blames his dirty diapers on Talitha. I'll ask "Noah, are you stinky?" and he'll reply "No. Tali pooped." And then I'll check him and say "Noah. You did." And still he'll persist. The evidence is stacked against him and he'll look up at me with his sweet blue eyes and say "Nuh-uh. Tali did."

 Last night at the dinner table, Matt told Noah to sit down and finish his dinner. Noah told him no. We've been stern, we've been sensible. Time-outs, sent to the room, whatever. At that moment, however, Matt stumbled upon Noah's true currency: the bink-binks. He loves those plastic germ-fests. Matt picked up a pacifier and told him "If you ever want to see your bink-bink again, you sit down."

Naturally, I thought of this:

A bink-bink hostage situation. Note scrawled in crayon - If you ever want to see your precious bink-bink again, you'll bring graham crackers...

Then today in the store, I put Noah in the cart (while Tali sat in the buckled seat) and threw a couple cans of crescent rolls in the cart. A few minutes later, I noted that he was setting them up like blocks. "He's growing up," I thought with parental satisfaction. A few minutes after that, I saw that he had somehow popped one open and was quietly gnawing on the dough oozing out from the top.

Yes.

The doughboy.

 

A Stroll in the Park

Today my best friend and I took our kiddos to the park. There's a pavilion there where hooligans hang out. Hooligans engaged in shenanigans. So when we got out, I decided to lock the minivan. Unfortunately, it's a really loud beep when you lock it so it announces to everyone "I don't trust any of you. And I have potentially expensive things in my car." Baby wipes, lonely socks, fuzzy gummy bears. I know you want it.

It's always fun taking eight kids to the park, all under 10 and four under 3. If you see the two of us at a park with furrowed brows, it's because we're mentally adding kids - looking at each other in confusion "I got 13. That doesn't seem right. Are they multiplying?"

The park seems to be on a downward trajectory. Aside from the pavilion of hooligans, we noted that her sweet 2 year old was sitting on a park bench with the phrase "F the police" on it.

Katie on the swing shouted gleefully to us "Look how high I am!"

My friend and I looked at each other. Probably lots of people there could say the same thing.