Meatballs

Tuesday night was dinner with the in-laws. They have cleverly moved it to basketball night, because basketball practice is all of 2 blocks from their house. Mary's helping me eat healthier, so she had some whole wheat spaghetti and meatballs for us. The kids LOVE spaghetti, though they are into spaghetti with butter and cheese, instead of sauce. I'm pretty sure sauce would be healthier, though messier. No matter, the meatballs were in a red sauce, and both kids like the meatballs, so Kate ended up with an orange face anyway.

Turns out, she loves the meatballs. They were little ones (frozen, I think, instead of Mary's larger homemade ones). I think she started with two or three, but she just kept asking for more and more and more. So I started rationing them to one at a time. It was really funny how many she was eating anyway, but then she said, "Hey! Something's missing!"

We all asked what was missing.

"Meatballs! There are no meatballs right there!" and she pointed to her plate.

It was so funny at the time. What a funny way for a two-year-old to ask for meatballs. Sam and I were cracking up. What can I say? She wants what she wants.

BMB: Mommy's Car or Toys 'R Us Boutique

I am no neat freak, just ask my mother. However, a new trend has started among my children that is turning my car from the grocery getter to a traveling toy chest.

I’m not sure how this kind of thing starts. I think it’s a compromise made in an effort to take less than 10 minutes from door to driving. “Can I take a Wii game?” “No.” “Can I take this very small lego man that I will cry after losing?” “No.” “MOM, can I please take Moosee?” “Sure, whatever it takes to get out of this door and into the car.”

So, now my car has become the resting place of many past-favorite toys. Past, because once they are lost in the pit of the car, they are out of sight and out of mind. There seems to be a necessity among my children to bring a bit of home with them into the car. Perhaps it’s a transitional item that helps them as they step into the great big world. Perhaps it’s a desire to have something that brother or sister doesn’t. Perhaps it’s a new way to stall the ever-impending reverse down the driveway.

Whatever it is, it’s a mess. So at least once a week, I demand that each child, particularly Sam, take his backpack, McDonald’s puppy, dirty socks, crayon drawing, and empty cup out of the car and into the house. “But Mommmmm,” I hear in the distance, “I can’t carry all of these things by myself.”

“Well, you carried it all out here, so figure it out. Maybe it will take more than one trip.”

Despite the messy process of cleaning up the mess, they are no less motivated to eliminate the carriage of extra items into the car. I think the only possible remedy is removal of all toys from their possession or the removal of their hands. Neither seems acceptable, so I’ll just start budgeting that additional 15 minutes on Thursday nights to clean it out. Again.

Now, I’m not sure who I can blame for the mess outside of the car….

My aging two-year-old

Kate has developed a new excuse for not doing whatever it is we're asking her to do… put on her coat, wear clothes, brush teeth, go to the potty, brush hair. Her new response is: "I can't hear you…" in a sing-songy voice. Sometimes it's preceded by a "WHAT?" "WHAT???!!!" We're looking into hearing aids.

We’re so busy

Kate's finally picked up on the family mantra. I remember Sam having the same discussion at about this age. It started Saturday morning. She got up and went to the bathroom, and when we stood to wash her hands, she said, "No brush teeth, mama. I'm too busy."

Later that morning, she claimed that she couldn't put on her pants because she was "too busy."

It's a pretty busy day when you're two-year-old is too busy for pants.