In Lieu Of Worship

We spent early Sunday afternoon at the Children’s Museum of Houston. They have an area called TotSpot created especially for 0-36 month olds. And I get that older siblings and cousins need to remain close to their Adult Supervisor, but I sure wish their Adult Supervisor would teach them not to take toys from toddlers, and you know, generally supervise their children.

We bought a Family membership last week that will provide us us air-conditioned entertainment, discounted parking, and members-only hours for an entire year for a totally-worth-it-less-than-the-cost-of-two-mani-pedis-I-so-desparately-need seventy bucks.

One thing the website didn’t tell us was that adults must wear hospital booties over their shoes or over their bare feet. Children must wear socks or go barefoot. Next time we’ll be taking socks. Consider yourself informed!

Happy Friggin Fourth Of July!

NOW PLEASE GIVE ME A SNACK!

Fireworks!

One Long-Ass Two Hundred And Four Miles

Two weekends ago, in a flash of courage and insanity, I drove the kids to San Antonio for their cousin Sara’s first birthday party. Alone. This after a week of contemplating whether or not to it, and my sister saying “I would never drive with both kids alone, but I hope you will.” Jennifer had to work that weekend and was then off to another city for some solitude and vacation time to play in a golf tournament. So I figured I could venture out for a less-than-twenty-eight-hours-seven-of-those-spent-in-a-car trip, or stay at home. If it was great, then great, If it was horrible, well, blogging is cheaper than therapy.

My sister and her husband had Just. That. Week. finished putting in a beautiful flagstone patio, and leveling off the backyard playground, the location where one colorful butterfly piñata, caught in the web of fifteen or more children, would meet its fate.

It was incredibly hot, but the only people who seemed to notice were the parents assigned to chase their kids around outside. Mateo and Harper’s gift to Sara was a big hit, though I’m not sure the other guests necessarily came prepared for wardrobe changes. Ooops. I’m putting that one down in the Cool Tia column.

Other than driving alone with 14 month olds for up to four hours one way, I was concerned with how they might respond to more-people-per-square-foot than you’d find surrounding the ice cream truck in summer, but neither cried. Harper, the – of late – more shy of the two, stayed a little closer to me and grandma. But gosh darn it was she cute in her pink Converse All-Stars.

And Mateo the ham basked in all the attention like a little pig rolling around in the mud. He was most intrigued by the big kids, seen here coming out of the room where they convened.

The party was fun, except for the part where I had to chase down Mateo after he escaped from an opening in the gate leading to the woods behind my sister’s house. Were any other kids doing that? NO.

And add to the milestones, I kept the kids out until after 6:00 p.m. – SHOCKER! – before heading back to my mom’s house. My sweet mom who got up at 6:00 a.m. on Sunday morning to make us homemade tortillas for egg and sausage tacos. Then again, she shut the garage door before I was out of the driveway, and was probably back in bed before I got to the end of the street.

Oh, the drive? Let’s just say DVDs are of no interest to the kids (though thanks two moms from my neighborhood group for letting us borrow the DVD player and Planet Earth DVDs). And that snack traps filled with baby trail mix attached to the carseats with toy links are no guarantee when you have a kid who can unlink those links. While mom is in the front seat driving seventy. The last hour of both legs of the trip were nothing short of horrible, but I am so glad we went.

Love, Grandma

“I only got one picture…Mateo enjoying the water [above]. Where’s my Harper’s picture? Love and kisses to you all…mostly for the kids…sorry, they are now the # one’s…but, you are right there behind them.”

Here you go, GRANDMA.

A Beautiful Disaster

Near sunset on Saturday, I snapped the above photo of Jennifer fishing off the dock trying to catch bass with no-MSG/no-nitrate hot dogs.

The kids didn’t care for them either.

What the photo doesn’t communicate is the sound of the portobello and yellow onions, and the lime and rosemary marinated ribs I had sizzling on the patio grill. Or the hum of tiny fans defeated and resigned to simply move hot air around from one space to the other on the deck.

In the three hours leading up to this veil of relaxation, however, there was much tripping and falling and tears and redirecting attention. Babyhood is full of firsts, and this was our first overnight trip away from home or grandma’s with walking toddlers. And one does not appreciate the conveniences of a babyproofed home until one stays in a home that isn’t. Mateo was constantly drawn to the cabinets that had household cleaners and bug killers. At least he was kind enough to bring me the stainless steel spray bottle from who knows which room. Harper was fond of the cabinets with pyrex glassware, and of hanging on and rattling the wrought iron console table. The one with fifteen photo frames and two lamps on it.

It was quickly culminating into An Early Bedtime but from 7:15 to 10:00, Harper woke up screaming no less than six times, be it the unfamiliar shadows, or her brother’s rhythmically thumping his foot to fall asleep, or who knows what. Each time, we had to go in and hold her, and she’d fall asleep and then we’d put her down and then she’d wake up screaming shortly thereafter. The kids and I have colds, so I started to think Ear Infection, but no, I think it was being overtired combined with a new environment. She’s our more sensitive sleeper.

Somewhere between cleaning up the kitchen and showers, Jennifer and I had decided we were headed back home after breakfast the next morning. Our plans had been to stay at our friend’s lakehouse through Sunday afternoon, maybe take a dip in the lake, and generally relax with our children. BUT WHO WERE WE KIDDING?

We were home by 10:30 a.m., less than twenty hours after we had left.

Bird Walk

In the last two or so weeks, we’ve noticed both kids standing and/or walking with their hands behind their lower back. And it’s about time. Because Jennifer and I have been walking around our house for fourteen months with our hands behind our backs hoping they would at some point emulate the behavior. We figured that if we taught them to keep their hands behind their backs, then they would be less inclined to touch fragile objects left at their level. As a test, we’ll soon be leaving razors and shaved lead on bookshelves.

In all seriousness, we have no idea where they’ve picked up this habit, or why they are both doing it, but it is seriously cute. Especially when they’re nekked but for the diaper, and not carrying anything, filing down the way like drill team dancers getting ready for a halftime show.

In the photo below, Mateo is carrying his “Raffy” giraffe down the hall. Raffy is a sleep item and is not supposed to leave his crib. But sometimes he’ll go grab it through the slats, usually around naps or bath/bedtime. I think he thought that if he couldn’t see Raffy behind his back, then neither could we.

Texas Heat: 101, Casa RaJen: 4

In the way that winter can keep you under house arrest, so can the suffocating, stinging heat. It’s almost too hot to take their usual morning urban nature walk. Something they do at 8:00 a.m. The only saving grace is the intermittent shade provided by the canopy of magnolia, pine, and oak trees along the sidewalks. Nary the thought of keeping the kids inside all day long for the next three months.

Gone two days without water, the lorapetalum is wilted, the azaleas cry out in pain, and the grass turns emaciated and brittle, all shriveled up like twigs in a fire. I wish I could pot my entire yard and make it an indoor plant, but then again, the ivy in the kitchen hasn’t received much notice either. Confronted with the choice to attend to the yard or spend time with the kids, the kids always win.

Because we were both home on Sunday afternoon, we decided to play and water. Our sprinkler no longer oscillates and some of the nozzles are so packed with dirt that they spray in all directions or only have half the water force of others. So I took Harper with me to Home Depot to pick up a new one while Jennifer and Mateo held down the fort. Once at the store, I found the Garden section only to find a hand-scrawled note that said “We are out of sprinklers. Sorry for the inconvenience.” on the empty shelves. It was hardly legible, as if the author of the note was dragged away by rabid customers as he finished writing.

Surprised, we got back in the car and headed down to Lowes. SAME THING! I found an employee and asked when they’d be getting them in and – timidly – he said the backorder was three weeks out. As a result, the sprinkler is to the summer that the Gas Can & Generator are to hurricane season. WHO KNEW.

So we set up our non-oscillating sprinkler to water a patch of dead grass while we let the kids toddle around in shirts and a diaper. We almost thought about putting on their swim gear, but it was just too damn hot to expend that energy thinking, much less wrestling tiny tornadoes of energy to get the swim shirts over their heads.

The varying heights and sprays of water caused the kids to squeal and scream and laugh with delight for a good half hour or more, at times so loud that I thought we might be waking the back caddy corner neighbors from an afternoon siesta. But then I recalled that said neighbor tends to fire up all four of his motorcycles -at the same time – leaving them idly running in the alley while he takes each in turn out for a spin. AT MY KIDS’ BEDTIME.

And that’s when we turned the water up even more, grateful for our broken sprinkler.

RaJen Review: Ready, Set, Go! Cars (Parents® Magazine)

Our friend Samantha and her son Jake are a blessing, and not just because we get hand-me-overs from them.

In December, they brought a handful of toys and these Parents® Magazine Ready, Set, Go! cars have been the gem of the lot. According to website descriptions, each car has its own personality (the red truck chimes, the yellow taxi squeaks, etc.), but by the time we got them, the sounds were long gone. No matter, though, because what the kids love is the “click click click” of the pull-and-go action that sends them zooming to the other side of the room.
These cars are rated from 12-36 months, but I have proof that they keep 420 month olds entertained, as well.

Both Mateo and Harper played with them most often in the crawling days, when they were content to just push them backwards with a neverending click click click as they made their way around on their knees. They’re still a favorite in our household and can be found anywhere from the living room, to the thing you trip on in the hallway, to the bath, to the back yard.

You can find the full set of 4 cars new for under $18 here, though I’ve seen some specialty online toy stores sell them for upwards of $35.

Not An Atypical Ninety Seconds at Casa RaJen

Mateo managed to get a hold of Jennifer’s cell phone, hit a series of buttons which led to a request for a SIM code, then managed to put an incorrect code TEN times. Something I found out had to have happened in order to get the resulting screen message which said “PUK Blocked, Emergency Calls Only.” Which led to an accidental 911 call -OOPS! Click! – confiscation by mom, a resultant tantrum, and finally a call to AT&T who says the card is permanently disabled and now we need to purchase a new SIM card.

Buy Low, Sell High!

I’ve received several messages about this event on a different forum that have me cracking up…so, if you have an electronics + kid story to share, please write in the comments!