You Should Have Come To The City With Us

We were living it up as park hoppers.

My children where introduced to the joy of the playground - - - the merry-go-round. What once used to thrill me now just makes me nervous. Nervous about potential barfing and little bodies being flung off of it. Don't say it. Don't you even. I know, I know. If I were so nervous why did I let them do it? Because, honestly, it doesn't get much more fun.

We decided to lie down on the merry-go-round, after all, clinging to a pole while spinning around crazy-fast IS exhausting. Just ask Wyatt.

Calvin decided that fast spinning was No Big Whoop. Can't you tell by the casual leaning on the rail, nonchalant glancing, and confident arm folding?

We spent a little bit of time digging around in the ginormous sand pit. And no, my kids didn't seem to mind the weird-old-man-stone-carving-with-the-saggy-chest-that-looked-like-he-was -sitting-in-a-hot-tub-that-is-really-a-sandbox.
We climbed a small rock mountain.
We almost got eaten by a hippo.
But managed to tame it long enough for a photo op.

Happy Summer!! We're so glad you're finally here!

Misc. Photos from April & Some Mush

Isn't this chubby little Wyatt thumb just about the cutest thing you've ever seen. Noah and I bust a gut every time he gives us a thumbs up.

Noah has a habit of taking pics of interesting people around NYC. He found this gem at Target. What do you think, a wig? bad haircut? bad cross dresser?
Plus, I don't think Wyatt likes that we turned his Thomas ball (which had a hole anyway) into a skull cap. Some people are so particular.

Ahhhhhh.....the beautiful Verrazanno Bridge, which connects Staten Island to Brooklyn. AND, it's a bargain at only $10 to cross. Even if it is a little pricey, it is mine and Noah's favorite bridge in NYC. Noah snapped this pic the other night. Gorgeous.

This painting. Oh man was this beauty put in my pediatrician's office just for me. I laugh every time I see it. Listen, before you judge me, I have to confess that I wouldn't be able to paint anything that would resemble Winnie the Pooh and his crew, but doesn't that Eyeore just look so tortured??? I know he's sad, but he's nothing short of miserable at Dr. Blank's.

Also, me turning 30 and blowing out my forest fire of candles. Good friends, good food, good times. It made the transition to old lady a lot easier.

Some Mush

Calvin has recently been having bouts of "restless leg syndrome" at night. A few nights ago he was awake and having a very difficult time. I gave him a warm bath, read him the depressing, yet compelling "Desser ,the Best Cat Ever" (see previous post), and rubbed his legs and feet until he felt better. Well past midnight, he was laying beside in my bed trying to fall asleep again, and then he asked me if he could live with me forever.

Then his eyes filled with the biggest tears, and they overflowed and rolled down his cheeks. He told me that he never wanted to live anywhere, but with me. It made my heart ache. Partly because he was so sad, and partly because I know when he is older, he will feel (and should feel)differently. I hope that he will. I hope that he won't want to live with Noah and I when he is an adult. I hope that he will have his own family to continue in happiness with.

That's the way it should be, right???

You are raising your kids so that become independent, right? So, why is it easy to secretly wish that they stay 4 and 2?

I wish that their thumbs stayed tiny and chubby, and that I will always be the one to bring them comfort when they are scared or sad.

Then, I imagine Wyatt as a grown man with tiny, child fat thumbs. And Calvin as an adult who is sitting beside me on my bed and having me rub his legs and feet. And I laugh (first) because that would be hysterical. And then I just start to savor the moments that I have NOW. I fill up the treasure chest, my heart, the camera, the blog, and my journal, and I hope that it is enough to help me remember how I felt in each of these tender moments.

I am glad to be a Mom. I am glad to be a Wife. I treasure my family.

Where Was I On That One???

1. Like the time I found a 1 pound block of cheddar in the fridge with two Wyatt-sized bite marks on both sides. Where was I?

2. Or how about the time I found an entire new roll of toilet paper floating in the toilet?

3. Where was I before I caught someone (still don't know who, though I have my suspicions) putting magic markers in the laundry thus turning some pants delightful shades of red?

4. Or where was I before I was one mile away from my house and heard Calvin saying, "Mom, stop the car! You forgot to buckle me!"

5. Oh, and don't forget this one: Where was I when I was checking out library books? Why had I already checked out, brought home, and read 3/4's of "Desser, the Best Cat Ever," before I realized that it was about dying cats?? And why didn't I just stop reading to prevent the free fall of tears about dying animals? Sheeeeeeeshhhhhh . . . . . . I was just trying to impart a love of reading.

I think I remember where I was: I think that I was either blogging, talking on the phone, or daydreaming about being on Dancing With The Stars.

All Stars

Have you seen the new baseball team on Staten Island???? They are very promising. Though missing a few players I think that they will have a successful season. Saturday was picture day. I think that we will for sure get the package with: 2 - 8 x10's of the whole team (one for Noah to take to school and hang in his locker and one to hang in our living room), and 16 wallets of just Noah's individual shots for family and friends.

MVP - Noah Shafer. I love this action shot. There wasn't a single thing planned about it - - - not the perfect form or serious look of concentration on his face.

The Catcher. He's good, and he can jump a fence and make it look like nothin'.

HomeSlice pictured below is the epitome of good picture taking skills. He wasn't even trying, and he managed perfect batting form.

This guy doesn't even need a bat when he is batting. He's that talented.

Life's a Potty

In the interest of good story telling, I have labeled the boys as #2 (on the left) and #1 (on the right).

Mommy Confession #1,393,483,994
#2 (the boy) is the boss of potty training. I really thought I could break him and train him to use the potty, but it has been confirmed to me that he, in fact, owns me.

Here's Where We're At
After a number of days sans clothing, running around the house and putting him on the potty whenever he looks like he might go, I decided that we were ready to leave the house in "big boys" (that's code for big boy undies).

Well, being the smart Mommy that I am, I took a few extra pair of undies and shorts, even though I was sure we wouldn't need them. After all, I successfully trained #1 just 2 years earlier (you like my pun).

I ventured to a doctor's appointment. One undie casualty, but caught quickly enough. Phew. Good thing I brought those extra big boys, right? Um, yeah.

After the doctor we went to playgroup at a friend's house. This is where the poop hit the fan. Or really the underwear. And the inner thigh. And a little bit of the calf. And even my wrist. Don't laugh. It wasn't funny.

Sooooooo, to sum it up: 4 #1 accidents, and 2 #2 accidents with #2.
The only real tragedy was the old pair of Elmo underwear that were sacrificed to the garbage when he pooped in them. It was just too disgusting to clean, so I cut them off of him and threw them away. Yes, cut them. I took a hint from the paramedics. You know how they cut people out of their seat belts when they are in a bad car wreck. I'm sure you can figure out my metaphor. If you need some help: car wreck = poop in the pants, people in the car wreck = Wyatt, seat belt = Elmo underwear.

Goodbye Elmo. You're elastic was showing anyway.

#2 Taunting Me. Potty Train Me, Mommy. I dare you.

AND FINALLY, TO ADD INSULT TO INJURY . . . . .

I checked out some potty training movie at the library. No luck. I couldn't get the boys to stop laughing long enough at the mention of the word, "poop" to watch it. And that word showed up a lot, so the laughing was abundant.

Whaddayagonnado?

Don't tell anyone, but I laughed too. I don't know if it was "that word" or just the hysterics it incited, but I couldn't help myself.

If Your Girl's Night Out Flops . . . .

because only one of your girls shows up. Here's whatcha do: save the fondue fixings for another day and head to Outback for a Bloomin' Onion. Eat a lot, and then try and prank someone who couldn't show up to par-tay.

Then, use the fondue a little later to party with the boys. I think they might be more fun anyway. Well, I guess it just kind of depends on what you're after. If you need some girl talk - - - 2 and 4 year old boys aren't you're best bet. If you need someone to be amazed that you would even let them have sharp sticks and dip sweets in chocolate and get chocolate everywhere including your ears, then 2 and 4 year old boys will do.

Here's What We Dipped.

Here's what we dipped it in. Or what was left of it after we were dipping.

Here's how we dipped it. Yep, two at a time. We Shafer's don't do food halfway, as in with only one hand.
And here's how we felt while we were eating it.

Except for Yo' Mama because my invention was too sophisticated for the stick. And in case you are wondering, it is: a Pepperidge Farm Milano dipped in chocolate, then topped with one slice of strawberry and one slice of banana. Then dipped in chocolate again. Noah's exact words were, "I guess if you are going to choke and die, then that is the way to go." To which I responded, "mmmmmmhhhhhhmmmm, dslfkjasldfd," Translation: "mmmmhhhhhmmmm, this is seriously awesome."

What I Saw While I'll Was Blogging.

YIKES!