Can't forget...

EW and H stayed home from school yesterday and today due to colds that wouldn't go away and coughs that were worsening. (Henry was the blood work champ, taking the finger prick for him and his brother to test for walking pneumonia, which, thankfully, was negative. They're being treated for sinus infections.)

Henry went to my office with me on Monday morning since he woke as I was preparing to leave early, and I wanted to make sure that Elgin could sleep in as long as possible while Daddy stayed home with him for a short while before I returned. Henry was beyond excited for this rare opportunity to hang out in my office. He quickly dressed and brushed his teeth and was especially thrilled that we packed him a breakfast of Count Chocula cereal.

Once there, he settled in a chair beside me at my desk, selected my brain eraser-topped pencil, and drew pumpkin faces and ghosts and managed to ask a lot of questions about my work while chowing down on some sugar cereal. As the morning passed a few coworkers were made aware of my little assistant's persistent coughing. One particularly nice but somewhat naive coworker popped her head in to say hello to Henry. She told him that she hoped he felt better, to which Henry replied, "I'm drawing a lot of penises on this ghost."

WHAT?!?!

I just burst out laughing, and I don't know if Patty's brain registered his bold statement, or if she was just laughing because I was laughing. I hope it was the later. My work can be very entertaining, but it rarely makes me laugh that hard that early in the morning.

After we got home and Cory left for his office, Elgin stood on his little red table then fell off onto a couple of baskets. Then, later, he was running towards me and tripped and fell face first on my shoe. We were visited by some Jehovah's Witnesses shortly afterwards. Thank you, God, for sending me signs affirming my working mom status.

The boys stayed home again today with Cory, and Cory reported some additions to Elgin's language development.  EW's no longer just standing in our chairs. He now crawl on them, stands, and says, "'it down!"

When I called Cory this afternoon to tell him I was on my way home, Elgin heard the phone ring and said, "hello?"

Their appetites are back, their spirits never dampened. They're off to school tomorrow and hitting the sidewalk to beg for candy tomorrow evening.  Let's just watch what comes out of those sweet mouths.

More wagon fun

We have a cute, classic, wooden, Radio Flyer wagon for our boys.  It belonged to the Josh and Caleb, but since they're not using it right now, we pull along in our neighborhood in a Pleasantville fashion. Cory had to work late a few nights ago, so before bedtime routine stuff, I suggested that we get outside and pass some time with Elgin rolling in the wagon and Henry riding his bike. (The boys were just coming off a very successful trike-a-thon, and H was getting back into the bike riding rhythm.)

All was euphoric. A neighbor stopped with her dog to catch up, and H pedaled back and forth, up and down the sidewalk. Elgin declared her pet a "dawg" a few times while reaching to pet it. Then, in a classic EW move, he stood up to yell, "DAWG!" as the furry friend walked away. From there, he stood taller when I asked him to sit back down, he arched his stomach up when I tried to sit him down myself, then he turned himself into a board with side gripping hands when I tried to lie him down in the wagon. I stopped to catch my breath and try to safely position the wagon, which gave him time to stand back up and crawl over the side to plant his feet on the ground.

So, again, I was faced with a choice: chase my boy who was sure to bolt after the dog or try to park the wagon to keep it from crashing with either Elgin or my other son who was happily oblivious on his bike.

I parked the wagon.  I know the perils of a runaway wagon.

Elgin bolted to the street.  I grabbed him when he reached the middle of the intersection across from our house.  When I tried to pull the wagon out of a neighbor's yard, he squirmed his way back down to the ground and tried to run back to the street. Another neighbor came outside and asked if I needed help. I declined for unknown reasons and made it back to the driveway to ditch the wagon and just "walk" Elgin behind H. He was more inclined to stick to the sidewalk when he had a brother on wheels to chase.

My goodness! I'm feeling a little leery of wagons and thinking I'll lay off on solo wagoneering.  It's not for me.

Utensil prowess

We discovered on Sunday morning that Elgin is more comfortable using his fork to eat certain foods than he is using his fingers. It's pretty cute that our 13 month old boy insists on a fork but not quite as cute that our 4.5 year old shuns utensils daily. The differences are already so apparent!

Consider the weasel

I cannot tell you how much I love this video and for how many reasons, but I'll list a few reasons why:

1) That voice--so, so sweet
2) The strong weasel image
3) His sincerity

From Henry Video

We are trying more and more to remind Henry that he is a "beloved child of God." I bet God smiles a lot when he hears this sweet child's voice.

Say Cheese!

We gave EW cheese on Monday night after getting the go ahead from Dr. Song to try a small amount of processed milk (cheese or yogurt) to gauge the reaction. He woke up with croup symptoms on Monday night, and since his allergy may have lead to some respiratory issues in the past, we are back on hold again. His stomach seems just fine, so I think that we will pick right back up with the cheese once the respiratory virus clears. Despite being on hold, we are feeling optimistic around here!

Cider House Rules

Today was Elgin's second day of being sick with the latest respiratory virus, and since he woke from a long morning nap with no fever, Henry and I decided that it would be a good day to head to Sky Top to pick some apples. Fresh air is good for the lungs, after all.

The lady who pointed us towards the orchards was quick to tell us (yell) that the wagons are not for riding after I told Henry to pick one to ride.

I told Henry we could break this rule once out of their site.

Well, as it turns out, there's good reason not to ride those wagons.  Henry was my passenger as I pulled the wagon along a bumpy road that traversed a relatively steep ravine. Squirmy Elgin was in my arms, refusing the Bjorn. I stopped to adjust Elgin, let go of the wagon, then turned to see the heavy wooden vehicle carrying my Henry down the hill.  I could either toss Elgin to the side to be able to dive after the run away wagon, or I could try to catch it the best I could without endangering my other child. I. could. not. catch up. Henry started screaming, "Mamaaaaaaa!"

Henry mercifully crashed into a line of fledgling vegetation, stopping a dangerous decent down the rest of the mountain side, and catapulting just inches away from the wagon. His knee was scraped, and his finger was scratched.

He declared it the worst thing that ever happened to him.

So, Sky Toppers, heed the rules.  The wagons are for apples only--not your trusting children.

At least I was able to produce a cider slushy and an apple cider doughnut to amend for my error.

Here are my two beautiful boys.

Picking up the ones off the ground... stupid wagon back there.

Trying to help his little brother who loved running down the hills but didn't really love the face planting

What H thinks is an appropriate apple orchard pose.  That damn wagon's in the background. 

A climbing/ jumping thing.  The play area there is... different.

For me?

Always the observer:

It was right after he picked this apple that he declared, "That's enough." We came home with six apples, and I'm pretty sure that we only paid for five.  I don't know where the sixth apple came from--maybe Elgin is a smuggler. 

True colors

Henry and I both woke up early this morning and had some quiet minutes together before the rush of the day began.  He chose to begin coloring his assignment from his Wednesday night church group.

For the first time, I noticed that he's coloring intentionally within the lines, intentionally choosing realistic (but still imaginative) colors, and intentionally holding the crayon in a tripod grasp.

I'm amazed.  We never really pushed him to color within the lines, especially since it's a little out of Henry character.  We used to try to see if he could hold pencils and pens with the tripod grasp but haven't really pushed it, either. I think he just practiced until he got it.  And, now, he seems to actually enjoy coloring.

My lover of white space took just a couple of years to embrace the colored wax medium.  What's next?