Sadie in the sand

Sadie is very happy I finally cleaned out last year's sand (which had been used as a litterbox one night that we forgot to put the lid on) and put some new sand in the sandbox.
And she was doubly thrilled with the new ice cream cone set of sand toys. Thank you, IKEA.

Surfin' Sam

Always ingenious with random bits of cardboard or plastic, my son turned this piece of corrugated paper into a surfboard.


Joe saw him doing this when he came home from work yesterday afternoon and promptly told him something along the lines of "Never do that again. It's too dangerous."


And then I had to admit I had him do it repeatedly that morning so I could get multiple action shots.

This post is for my mother (or anyone else who has seen the inside of my cabinets)

We moved into this house two and a half years ago.

At which point I thought my life was so difficult with one 2-year-old that I couldn't possibly manage to unpack properly.

So, as I took things out of boxes I basically threw them into the nearest cupboard or closet and called it good.

However, it was most definitely not good.

After living in Tasmania with next to nothing, I have been inspired to attempt to rid myself of all the extra stuff we have laying around so that the things I actually do want to possess can be contained in some sort of organized manner.

I started about two weeks ago with the tupperware cupboard. (Though I shouldn't really call it that since I don't own a single piece of authentic tupperware.)

My progress went something like this.

Day 1: Go to Target and Walmart and spend way too much money on various pieces of plastic that will hopefully inspire me to put things away where they belong.

Day 2: Unload aforementioned items from van. Deposit in dining room.

Day 3: Have kids empty tupperware from cupboard so I can sort through it and get rid of all the mismatched items.

Day 4: Walk over the tupperware that was deposited in the dining room ever so obediently by the children at least 8 times. Sort nothing.

Day 5: Repeat of Day 4.

Day 6: Sort through tupperware.

Day 7: Place tupperware back in cupboard completely organized. Emphasize to children that this cupboard will no longer be considered available for use as a cave in which to play with flashlights and glowsticks. Scare Sadie out of her socks with the shriek I let out when she started to try to take out the shelf in order to get in there to play. Re-emphasize the fact that it is no longer a designated play area.

Day 8: Plan playdate with friends from college that I haven't seen in a while. Offer to have it at my house.

Day 9: Empty a lot of other cupboards and closets and strew contents across first floor of house. Rescind offer of hosting playdate due to complete mess and lack of motivation to do much about it. (Thankfully, they were very understanding and Molly had it at her house. I should point out that she really did just move into her house and had much more reason to have a mess than I did.)

Day 10: Tackle a good number of kitchen cupboards and hall closet. Deposit a lot of items on the countertops.

Day 11: Look at countertops and want to cry.

Day 12: Repeat of Day 11.

Day 13: Deal with countertops. Take pictures and post to blog to document for my mother that I may indeed have learned something from her in the 18 years I lived in her house.

So, here are the pictures. I am sure you are all on the edge of your seats with anticipation.

My countertops have never been this clear. Well, other than the day we moved in.

If only I would have taken some before pictures, the rest of these would be much more impressive. Call my mother - she will attest to the miracle that was performed.

Balloons!

Our good friends and neighbors filled our house with balloons to welcome us home from Tasmania. I had them corralled in a corner in the living room, and last week the kids thought they would hide from me. I found them. We had lots of fun.
The static effect was impressive.

Sharp Shooters

After baseball, we moved on to water guns.


And you can see my daughter upgraded from the Spidey undies to her new swimsuit.

(I am sure the first of many this summer....)

Sam also changed his entire outfit somehow, too. Poor kid still has on last year's swimsuit, though.

Not to be outdone

Sadie donned the batting goggles as well.


Nice outfit, huh?

I promise I do dress her in the mornings. She just always finds various reasons to take most of her clothes off.

Batter Up!

No need for a batting helmet - we have batting goggles at our house!

Sam informed me he was wearing them "just in case you aim at my eyes."

Not that if I aimed at his eyes the ball would end up anywhere close to them.

Scissors

So - I have always kind of laughed at people whose toddlers have managed to hack off a chunk of their own hair.

First of all, I generally don't let either of my kids near scissors. For any reason. At all. Even when supervised.

(Which is probably why Sam was just a bit behind most of his classmates at preschool this year in the cutting department.)

Secondly, should one actually let preschool children near scissors, why in the world would they ever be unsupervised for long enough to cut into anything other than paper?

However, we were at playgroup on Monday where a mom had a craft that involved cutting and both of my children were super excited to be able to cut. I even had a chance to sit and talk for more than 3 minutes uninterrupted because Sadie just sat on my lap cutting paper after paper into shreds.

So, that afternoon I got out our child-safe scissors that were stored high on a shelf and let them go to town.

It was divine.

I thought I had found my new secret weapon for entertaining them.

The next morning they were right back at it, which was very nice considering I was on hold with the Sears installation department for 30 minutes (trying to find out why the new dishwasher Joe bought that had a delivery date of 4/20 on the receipt wasn't actually going to be at my house on 4/20). However, as soon as I actually got a live human on the phone the kids started fighting over the scissors and had to be put in their rooms screaming their heads off while I tried to sort out my dishwasher dilemma.

And so there were no scissors the rest of the day.

Why do they always ruin it!?

Then this morning I thought I would give them another chance. Sam wanted to make a "project" to take to his preschool teacher on his first day back, so I set them both at the kitchen table with paper and scissors, reminding them that if anyone even though about fighting over anything with the scissors near them they would both be back up in their rooms - for a long time - alone - while I sat in the hallway eating ice cream.

(Just kidding about the ice cream.)

All was good. I got the kitchen cleaned up (well - other than the confetti on the floor) and ran upstairs for literally 30 seconds to grab a pair of socks for Sam. As I came down I thought I heard Sam say something about hair, but didn't really pay much attention.

Until I saw this.


I guess I only told them not to fight about the scissors. I never specified they were only to be used on paper.

Good thing we had haircuts scheduled for this afternoon anyway.

Home

We are home.

We got out of bed at 4am in Tasmania and 36 hours later were (trying) to go to bed at home.

(I say trying since Sam got a second - or third or fourth - wind and kept us up another couple hours.

And of those 36 hours, my children slept exactly 8 (Sadie) and 6 (Sam).

Not exactly what I was hoping for. However, they were fairly happy and managable for all of the waking hours, so I can't complain too much.

Sam was enthralled with the safety videos shown before each flight (he also knows the emergency procedures card backwards and forwards) and we spent quite a bit of time discussing water landings, most of which consisted of me trying to convince him that we didn't really want to have one.

Sadie was not as wiggly than she was on the flight to Australia and required much less "wrangling" by me. She happily played her Leapster, colored, and played with stickers. Her other delight was holding her finger over the attendant call button on the handrest, grinning at me and asking "This one?" even though I had already told her no somewhere around 217 times.

Here's a lovely shot of the Devonport airport before we left. We got quite the looks when we traipsed in with our 6 large suitcases, 4 backpacks, 1 laptop bags, 2 blankets, and 2 preschoolers in a double stroller.
Joe's retort: "Lot of stuff for a weekend visit, huh?"

I felt the need to explain: "We've been here 3 months."

We thankfully didn't have to get our baggage in Melbourne and transfer it to the international terminal as we had been warned might be the case. (I think we got the nice guy at the counter that morning, since the first guy that was supposed to help us grumpily told us to wait for the other guy as he apparently did not want to deal with us and all our stuff.)

The next place we got looks was in LAX when we had to get our luggage to go through Customs. We had all our bags divided between two carts, but that still left the kids and the stroller. Unable to push both a cart and a stroller, we made our way through the airport with Joe and I both pushing a cart and Sadie pushing Sam in the stroller.

At LAX, the kids were quite entertained trying to see if they were the right size to be carry-on luggage. At that point they had each only slept 4 and a half hours, so I was ready to stow them in an overhead compartment. Too bad they were a little too big. (Just kidding....)

Grandma and Papa were waiting for us at the airport in Chicago, with the gingersnaps that had been promised Sam in hand. I have never been so happy to see O'Hare in my life.

We got home and had our pizza eaten by about 9 and tried to put the kids to bed around 10, hoping that since they had slept so little on the plane we could just avoid the whole jet lag thing.

No go.

Sadie actually did well, sleeping all night until 6am. Sam didn't fall asleep until 1 and then had to be woken up at 1 the next afternoon.

I had hope the next night when we had both of them asleep by 9:30. Again, Sadie did great. Poor Sam woke up around 11 from what had apparently been a short nap and was ready to be awake again. I tried laying with him in bed to get him to go back to sleep, but by 12:30 gave up and we headed downstairs for a treat and some playtime. He looks real ready to go to sleep, doesn't he? (Maybe the ice cream wasn't such a good idea...)

He finally fell asleep again around 3:30. I feared we were moving in the wrong direction, thinking he might sleep until 3 in the afternoon this time. Thankfully, I was wrong and he woke up around 10:30 fairly happy.

So tonight, in trying to avoid another "nap," we kept him up until 10:30 and are hoping to make it to morning.

Of course, as he was going to bed, he asked "What can I have for a treat in the middle of the night tonight?"

Benedryl.

I'm trading this for cornfields?

This is the view out our front window.


(Lest you think it has been this luxurious the whole time, we are in a beach house for the last couple days since we had to be out of our rental on Friday. The usual view was of the house across the street - though this view is only a 5 minute drive from where we lived.)

We have had a wonderful time (despite the first week where I cried to my parents every time I talked to them on the phone).

They promised me it would get better.

It did.

(Guess maybe they are right at least some of the time.)

The people here have been extremely welcoming and friendly.

The beach has been awesome - especially the fact that it is just minutes away and usually fairly deserted.

We have had a good time being together as a family and watching the kids grow closer to each other.

And we got to skip out on winter.

In addition, my mom was dealing with all our mail and bills and our neighbors were making sure nothing went wrong with the house.

(Think maybe they'll just keep that up for us when we return?)

But we are all giddy about coming home.

For as good of an experience as this has been, we are all ready to get back to "real life."

And I am really excited that my "real life" includes a dishwasher and a clothes dryer.

(And all our friends and family, too.)

Footy

That's Australian rules football - not soccer.

Sam and Joe took in a local game this afternoon. As you can see, Sam didn't have any trouble kicking back and relaxing while watching.

Backseat driver

If I happen to be holding on to the steering wheel with just one hand, I can just about be guaranteed that I will soon hear "MOM! HAND! HOLD ON!" from the back seat.

From Sadie.

And if I don't respond, the next command is "MOM! TWO HANDS! RIGHT THERE!"

Maybe she'll be a driver's ed teacher someday.

Heaven bound

"Mom, I really want to live in heaven right now."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't think you have to sleep there."

From my son, to whom sleep is just an inconvenience amidst playtime.

Mom, is that where hot dogs grow?

That's what Sam asked when we saw these on a hike the other day.

Trouble? Yes, please.

Sadie and I seem to have different definitions of the word "trouble."

We went out to eat tonight with Joe's whole team from work to celebrate being done (or almost done) with the project they have been working on.

It's always fun to be the only one with little kids along for dinner. That starts at 6:30. Which is when my children are usually in the bathtub. (Thankfully I had Sadie take a nap today, so there was a bit of hope we might make it through the meal without a complete meltdown.)

I fed them some snacks around 5:30 since the service around here at restaurants isn't exactly what I would call speedy. I knew they would be really hungry (which in turn means cranky) if I tried to have them make it until 7:00 or so to eat anything. Good thing, since their food didn't get to the table until 7:30 (and ours 15 or so minutes later). By some stroke of luck Sadie requested to sit in a high chair, which was fine with me in hopes having her strapped in would make the long dinner a bit easier. She did pretty well, reading books and coloring as we waited for the food.

During the course of waiting (and then through the eating too) Sadie felt it necessary to visit the bathroom at least 4 times, each time claiming to really need to go potty and then produce absolutely nothing when we got there. After the fourth time, she had had enough of the high chair and refused to sit down. She was just tired enough that I knew if I attempted to wrestle her into it she would scream very loudly - not exactly what I wanted with 7 other adults from Joe's work watching me. So I did the next best thing - threatened her.

"Do you want to be in trouble?" I said in my best stern whisper.

"Yes," she replied, a big smile on her face. "Trouble."

Lovely.

Not exactly sure what "trouble" was going to be, I picked her up and carted her off to the other side of the restuarant where there were a few chairs to sit in while you wait for a table. I had her sit on my lap, trying to simulate how she has to sit in a chair at home. However, all she did was look at me and grin.

I tried to give her the "Barb look" that my mom gave us when we were little that somehow scared us into submission. It didn't work. I need some lessons, Mom.

I moved on to giving her a slight pinch in the ribs, hoping to cause just enough discomfort that she would get the message that I was not happy. I obviously need a lesson in this technique as well, since all it accomplished with Sadie was causing fits of laughter.

So I gave up and resorted to a few minutes of tickling to hopefully put us both in a better mood and have her forget about the fact that she didn't want to sit in the high chair.

We headed back. I set her in the high chair pretending that the previous 5 minutes hadn't just happened and hoped she would just sit down and get back to her meal.

No dice.

All I got was one 3-year-old, slightly too big for the high chair, standing on the seat looking at me saying, "More trouble?" with a smile on her face.

Impressive statistic

We visited 2/3 of the McDonalds restuarants in the western half of the state of Tasmania today.

Given that it was a chilly, wet day and each McDonalds provides free parking, a playland, and 50 cent ice cream cones, it seemed like a good way to pass the time.

I guess I should confess that there are only 3 in this half of the state.
(And 11 in the eastern half, 8 of which are in Hobart.)

We hit the first one about 11:00 this morning. I had drug the kids through some shops downtown in hopes of getting some souvenirs to take home, but wasn't as successful as I had hoped.

(Sidenote: If you want something that says, "Mummy's Little Devil" or "Someone who loves me went to Tasmania and bought me this shirt," put in your order now. Or you could get just about anything emblazoned with a cartoon-ish Tasmanian Devil - snow globes, water bottles, pens, etc. Tasteful gifts are a bit lacking.)

My plan was to go to the nature reserve to hunt (once again) for the elusive platypus, but the rain that had stopped earlier began again.

So, McDonalds it was. I fully intended on getting the 50 cent cones for the kids to justify using the parking space and playing in the playland until I saw the "American" brownie calling my name from the McCafe. (Definition of "American" brownie: brownie that actually has enough sugar in it to be edible - and no coconut.) So once I went over to the McCafe counter to buy myself the $3.85 cent brownie that was smaller than a deck of cards, Sam happened to fall in love the with $3 donut with chocolate sprinkles. Now my $1 cheap outing had turned into almost $7 for the 20 minutes my kids played, but oh well. At least we weren't at home watching the Wiggles.

We went home for lunch (since I wouldn't do something as unhealthy as buy them nuggets and fries 20 minutes after buying them a donut) and spent the next 2 hours playing superheroes (mainly with Sam) as Sadie threw multiple fits for various completely irrational reasons since she really still needs just a little nap but won't give in to her exhaustion.

I couldn't take it anymore and annouced to Sam we were doing to McDonalds.

"Again?!" with a look of sheer delight on his face.

"Yes - the other McDonalds." The one a half an hour away so my exhausted daughter could hopefully catch a few Zs on the way to make her a bit more bearable.

We loaded up and by some stroke of dumb luck, the plan actually worked. Sadie zonked out and even announced when she woke up in the McDs parking lot, "Mom, I better now."

They played for a good hour at this one (better playground) and this time I wasn't sucked in by the McCafe and the kids got their 50 cent cones. They got quite a kick out of laughing at the other one with ice cream all over his or her face, not realizing both of their faces looked pretty much the same.

I promise we did eat a few healthly things sandwiched in between our McDs sweets.

Easter Morning

So the Easter posts are a bit out of order....

This is how we started the day - reading the Easter story from the kids' Bible. At the end of the story was their first clue in the scavenger hunt to find their Easter baskets.
Sam is leading the way. (As usual.)

The first clue led the kids to the shower. This clue said "Where are the eggs?" and was a bit more confusing than I intended. I meant the real eggs - like the ones we eat for breakfast - and Sam was thinking it meant he had to go find Easter eggs.

Eventually, he figured out what I meant. (And by "figured out," I mean Joe flat out had to tell him to go to the fridge.) And my - what a nice, clean, organized fridge I have!

That clue sent them to the TV.

This photo is to prove Sadie actually got to put her hands on at least one clue. (And isn't it a lovely shot of me?)

The under the table clue directed them to find a bow for Sadie,

which sent them to the closet

to locate the next clue amidst the undies,

which finally led them to the Easter baskets!

I was a bit concerned that they might be a tad bit disappointed when they saw their baskets were their beach buckets filled with a few goodies. (I wasn't about to spend money on anything extra to try and fit into a suitcase next week.) However, I discovered that chocolate and cheap toys from K-mart go a long way.

Here is Sam trying to crack open the big chocolate egg (there's more candy inside it).
The balloons were another big hit.

All Sadie needed was the chocolate.

And Sam was over the moon about his "sticky hand."