So we just said goodbye to Nana - which made everybody pretty sad. We came back after the dropoff and sat down to lunch, and though Matty was noshing away (and the Pope is Catholic) Danny was out of sorts. In an attempt to cheer him up, I put a string I found on my upper lip like a mustache. Who knows. Anyway, it fell into my mouth, and when I blew it out, it flew up in the air.
Well, out of nowhere, Matty bursts out laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. As usual, this is about half as funny as it was before I got the camera out.
I hope the cuteness of the video overpowers the fact that his mouth is so full of apple pieces that they are falling out - we're still working on his manners.
(You can also get a good look at his shiner.)
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Matty in the Basement
OK, so I debated even putting this on here, knowing one day Matty will try to use it against us:
Matty: "Mom, I want a car."
Me: "No."
Matty: "Mom. The basement."
Me: "Silver or black?"
But the spirit of transparency requires me to disclose that we have moved Matty out of our bedroom and put him in the basement.
OK, it's not officially the basement. It's the "mudroom" - a 3 1/2 by 5 1/2 foot space between the laundry "room" and the "back door." But let's be honest. If this were a normal house, it would be the basement. It was the part of the house that you didn't want anybody to see - peeling paint, cobwebs, filled with junk and a raggedy old carpet. We'd quickly usher anybody we were trying to impress through there, "Nothing to see here! Nothing to see!"
I really really wish I'd taken some "before" pictures - but here is the closest I can find.
This is our old Christmas card picture - that we cropped and cropped and then blurred and blurred and photoshopped and photoshopped to hide the horrors of this room. Which do you like more - the 2cent/square foot linoleum, or the hole in the wall?
Well, after one particularly bad stretch of days and days of one or both kids being awake between the hours of 2 and 5am, I began to anticipate it - wake up nightly at 2am, heart pounding, waiting for Danny to wake up and stomp stomp stomp down the hall, bursting into our room, triggering Matty's wail. I was watching the clock, clamping my hand down on David if he so much as stretched his legs, whispering harshly, "GAHHHH!! Don't wake up Matty!!," hearing Matty shift around, toys in his crib jingling, jingling, oh the jingling - it was a horrible existence out of a Stephen King novel. I was slowly (quickly) going insane.
And since necessity of sanity really is the mother of invention, I piled the boys into the cart at Home Depot. We really went to work. We patched the walls, painted, I cut and laid carpet (!). "You broke out the T squar!" Heather exclaimed, causing me to double over in laughter. ("T-squar" is what Mr. Carr, our middle school shop teacher, called it. He would have been SO, SO proud, as I was. I loved that class. RIP Mr. Carr! I know the writing is straight and nobody runs through the shop up in heaven!!)
Anyway, we put some lovely decals on the wall, and hey, we just made ourselves a third bedroom! And it's pretty nice in there!
My dad called it Matty's monastic cell. And he's sleeping through the night. You heard me - THROUGH THE NIGHT. Thus, we are all re-entering the world of the living.
You can't use the back door anymore, but otherwise, this has been the greatest thing to happen to all of our sanity in a long time.
Matty, feel free to lord it over me forever that we put you in the basement. I understand. And silver cars are safest, so I'll insist that we go with silver.
Matty: "Mom, I want a car."
Me: "No."
Matty: "Mom. The basement."
Me: "Silver or black?"
But the spirit of transparency requires me to disclose that we have moved Matty out of our bedroom and put him in the basement.
OK, it's not officially the basement. It's the "mudroom" - a 3 1/2 by 5 1/2 foot space between the laundry "room" and the "back door." But let's be honest. If this were a normal house, it would be the basement. It was the part of the house that you didn't want anybody to see - peeling paint, cobwebs, filled with junk and a raggedy old carpet. We'd quickly usher anybody we were trying to impress through there, "Nothing to see here! Nothing to see!"
I really really wish I'd taken some "before" pictures - but here is the closest I can find.
This is our old Christmas card picture - that we cropped and cropped and then blurred and blurred and photoshopped and photoshopped to hide the horrors of this room. Which do you like more - the 2cent/square foot linoleum, or the hole in the wall?
Well, after one particularly bad stretch of days and days of one or both kids being awake between the hours of 2 and 5am, I began to anticipate it - wake up nightly at 2am, heart pounding, waiting for Danny to wake up and stomp stomp stomp down the hall, bursting into our room, triggering Matty's wail. I was watching the clock, clamping my hand down on David if he so much as stretched his legs, whispering harshly, "GAHHHH!! Don't wake up Matty!!," hearing Matty shift around, toys in his crib jingling, jingling, oh the jingling - it was a horrible existence out of a Stephen King novel. I was slowly (quickly) going insane.
And since necessity of sanity really is the mother of invention, I piled the boys into the cart at Home Depot. We really went to work. We patched the walls, painted, I cut and laid carpet (!). "You broke out the T squar!" Heather exclaimed, causing me to double over in laughter. ("T-squar" is what Mr. Carr, our middle school shop teacher, called it. He would have been SO, SO proud, as I was. I loved that class. RIP Mr. Carr! I know the writing is straight and nobody runs through the shop up in heaven!!)
Anyway, we put some lovely decals on the wall, and hey, we just made ourselves a third bedroom! And it's pretty nice in there!
My dad called it Matty's monastic cell. And he's sleeping through the night. You heard me - THROUGH THE NIGHT. Thus, we are all re-entering the world of the living.
You can't use the back door anymore, but otherwise, this has been the greatest thing to happen to all of our sanity in a long time.
Matty, feel free to lord it over me forever that we put you in the basement. I understand. And silver cars are safest, so I'll insist that we go with silver.
Friday, April 22, 2011
This Kid...
So this video is totally awesome. He really started walking yesterday, and today decides he's got this walking thing, and now he's on to soccer.
Then moments after this, literally, he crawls up the concrete steps, turns around, stands, looks right at me, takes a step down, and busts his eye open.
This kid is going to be the death of me.
Then moments after this, literally, he crawls up the concrete steps, turns around, stands, looks right at me, takes a step down, and busts his eye open.
This kid is going to be the death of me.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Monday, April 18, 2011
Our Great Subway Adventure
Well, it's just not a visit from Pops without an adventure, is it?
Pops swooped in last minute to save me from the despair and fatigue of the final stretch of David's relentless mix schedule. I caught a whiff that some stressful things were brewing at Supportive Care, so it was very good of him to come so last minute.
We had a good two days of lots of playing in the yard, but it wasn't long before the old maps were out and Pops was studying some kind of train schedule. Yes, indeed, he wasnted to ride the elusive, infamous, fabled Los Angeles subway.
The days around here go something like this:
7am - both boys awake.
8:30 - 11am - Matty naps.
11am - 1pm - both boys awake
1pm - 3pm Matty naps
2pm - 5pm - Danny naps
5pm - 8pm - both boys awake
8pm - Matty down
8:30pm - Danny down
So you can see there are three very short windows of time to do anything...which is why I never get anything done around here.
Anyway, Pops' extensive post-oatmeal research finds the subway stop that is:
1 - nearest to downtown
2 - with parking and
3 - above-ground rail lines
And it is the Florence station. So off we head, fully stocked with snacks, water and sandwiches, once Matty finally wakes up at 11am.
An hour and a half later...ahem...we arrive, park, and board the train (only in LA do you drive an hour and a half to ride the subway).
Maybe 6 stops to our transfer, and we may as well be in NYC! Except that there are like 15 people in the station...including this very grumpy dude in the background who very shortly yells at this poor lady with her rambunctious kid.
Finally, we arrive at Union Station - which is a really glorious LA landmark, something truly to behold. We eat our lunch of panini wraps - natch - and fruit.
Even though we are heading into dangerous nap-time-territory, I decide we should head over to Olvera Street - the first and oldest street in Los Angeles - which is another amazing LA landmark - to get the delicious Mexican hot chocolate we've had every time we go for the past decade. So we head over, with Matty on Pops' shoulders.
I tell Danny he can pick one thing, and he carefully inspects every single thing up and down the street - every single thing. "Ooooooh look at this! Oooooooooh look at this!" he says, with every piece of plastic and flashy piece of junk. I've decided he can have whatever he wants, as long as it's under ten bucks.
Matty's giggling away up there, using Pops' ears as handles to either steer or hang on...
The hot chocolate place is gone - DESPAIR! - but Danny picks his present, and it's simply amazing. He literally plopped down on the bench and wanted to play. He spontaneously burst out with this statement:
"Thank you Mommy. I love it."
"You love it?" I said, not sure I heard that correctly.
"I love it."
And I just thought my heart would break. God, he's getting so big.
So back we headed to the subway - with Danny wanting to hold his guitar the entire way.
Getting back was much quicker. We hit our car at 3pm, and headed back towards home.
But right on the way, I see a sign for the Watts Towers - yes, in Watts - and decide we have to make a quick detour.
(LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER, IT HAS NEVER BEEN SO CLEAR TO ME.)
And we wind our way around the 'hood - and it takes a lot for me to say the 'hood - but we were in the 'hood - and finally end up at the Watts Towers - unfortunately closed, but still pretty cool to see from the street.
At this point, the dudes are beyond fried. This hasn't happened in MONTHS:
(it's like an optical illusion - see if you can see Matty.)
A true adventure!
Pops swooped in last minute to save me from the despair and fatigue of the final stretch of David's relentless mix schedule. I caught a whiff that some stressful things were brewing at Supportive Care, so it was very good of him to come so last minute.
We had a good two days of lots of playing in the yard, but it wasn't long before the old maps were out and Pops was studying some kind of train schedule. Yes, indeed, he wasnted to ride the elusive, infamous, fabled Los Angeles subway.
The days around here go something like this:
7am - both boys awake.
8:30 - 11am - Matty naps.
11am - 1pm - both boys awake
1pm - 3pm Matty naps
2pm - 5pm - Danny naps
5pm - 8pm - both boys awake
8pm - Matty down
8:30pm - Danny down
So you can see there are three very short windows of time to do anything...which is why I never get anything done around here.
Anyway, Pops' extensive post-oatmeal research finds the subway stop that is:
1 - nearest to downtown
2 - with parking and
3 - above-ground rail lines
And it is the Florence station. So off we head, fully stocked with snacks, water and sandwiches, once Matty finally wakes up at 11am.
An hour and a half later...ahem...we arrive, park, and board the train (only in LA do you drive an hour and a half to ride the subway).
Maybe 6 stops to our transfer, and we may as well be in NYC! Except that there are like 15 people in the station...including this very grumpy dude in the background who very shortly yells at this poor lady with her rambunctious kid.
Finally, we arrive at Union Station - which is a really glorious LA landmark, something truly to behold. We eat our lunch of panini wraps - natch - and fruit.
Even though we are heading into dangerous nap-time-territory, I decide we should head over to Olvera Street - the first and oldest street in Los Angeles - which is another amazing LA landmark - to get the delicious Mexican hot chocolate we've had every time we go for the past decade. So we head over, with Matty on Pops' shoulders.
I tell Danny he can pick one thing, and he carefully inspects every single thing up and down the street - every single thing. "Ooooooh look at this! Oooooooooh look at this!" he says, with every piece of plastic and flashy piece of junk. I've decided he can have whatever he wants, as long as it's under ten bucks.
Matty's giggling away up there, using Pops' ears as handles to either steer or hang on...
The hot chocolate place is gone - DESPAIR! - but Danny picks his present, and it's simply amazing. He literally plopped down on the bench and wanted to play. He spontaneously burst out with this statement:
"Thank you Mommy. I love it."
"You love it?" I said, not sure I heard that correctly.
"I love it."
And I just thought my heart would break. God, he's getting so big.
So back we headed to the subway - with Danny wanting to hold his guitar the entire way.
Getting back was much quicker. We hit our car at 3pm, and headed back towards home.
But right on the way, I see a sign for the Watts Towers - yes, in Watts - and decide we have to make a quick detour.
(LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER, IT HAS NEVER BEEN SO CLEAR TO ME.)
And we wind our way around the 'hood - and it takes a lot for me to say the 'hood - but we were in the 'hood - and finally end up at the Watts Towers - unfortunately closed, but still pretty cool to see from the street.
At this point, the dudes are beyond fried. This hasn't happened in MONTHS:
(it's like an optical illusion - see if you can see Matty.)
A true adventure!
Matty Walks...I Think
OK, this was completely unintentionally perfect.
He's walked about twice this far, but trying to capture it has proven difficult.
Enjoy this - a little snapshot into our daily existence.
He's walked about twice this far, but trying to capture it has proven difficult.
Enjoy this - a little snapshot into our daily existence.
Friday, April 15, 2011
The Boy Who Isn't a Baby Any More
Danny has a habit of wanting to stay in the car once we've parked and turned it off. He likes to climb into the front seat and push all the buttons, click the turn signals, move the vents around. I can see why - especially in the VW it's pretty spaceship in there. Lots of clicks, blue lights, red flashing things. Pretty cool.
But occasionally, especially with Matty, it creates a problem where Matty's ready for bed/diaper change/food and Danny just isn't ready to move. So I stand there for minutes and minutes holding Matty while Danny fools around, tapping my foot impatiently and trying to put myself in the shoes of a 2-nearly-3-year-old who thinks a car control panel is the coolest thing ever. The world is full of wonder through the eyes of babes, that kind of thing.
Today we dropped Pops off at the airport, then we went to a new playground to meet our friends Laura and Penelope and check out a soccer camp for kids. By 1pm, after many trips to the park potty (see earlier post), once we pulled into the garage, Matty and I were both starving and ready for naps. But Danny climbed into the front seat and wanted to play. After five minutes of waiting, I left the car door ajar and told him to come out when he was ready, and that we were heading in for lunch now.
A good 5 minutes passes. I make sandwiches for the boys, and Matty and I are munching away. I have an inkling that I should go check on Danny, even though I left the door open - he might be getting into who knows what in the garage. So I trot back there, expecting a fight to get him inside.
As I approach I hear yelling, frantic screaming - "Mommy! Mommy!!!" I rush into the garage and just barely catch Danny sitting back in his car seat, flushed, tear-stained face turned away from the door. The door must have somehow closed shut and he couldn't figure out how to get out.
As I run to the door and open it, he brings his sleeve up and quickly, harshly wipes his eyes dry. One ragged sob and he's pulling himself together - not wanting me to see how upset he was. As I pick him up, suddenly barely a vestige of the sobbing toddler I'd seen through the glass: "I cried," he says, matter-of-factly. "I called 'Mommy, Mommy.' I was scared."
"I know you were," I said. "I'm so sorry."
Another stifled sob.
"Let's go have some lunch." he says.
"Okay," I respond.
And we silently agree not to talk about it any more, me and the boy who isn't a baby any more.
But occasionally, especially with Matty, it creates a problem where Matty's ready for bed/diaper change/food and Danny just isn't ready to move. So I stand there for minutes and minutes holding Matty while Danny fools around, tapping my foot impatiently and trying to put myself in the shoes of a 2-nearly-3-year-old who thinks a car control panel is the coolest thing ever. The world is full of wonder through the eyes of babes, that kind of thing.
Today we dropped Pops off at the airport, then we went to a new playground to meet our friends Laura and Penelope and check out a soccer camp for kids. By 1pm, after many trips to the park potty (see earlier post), once we pulled into the garage, Matty and I were both starving and ready for naps. But Danny climbed into the front seat and wanted to play. After five minutes of waiting, I left the car door ajar and told him to come out when he was ready, and that we were heading in for lunch now.
A good 5 minutes passes. I make sandwiches for the boys, and Matty and I are munching away. I have an inkling that I should go check on Danny, even though I left the door open - he might be getting into who knows what in the garage. So I trot back there, expecting a fight to get him inside.
As I approach I hear yelling, frantic screaming - "Mommy! Mommy!!!" I rush into the garage and just barely catch Danny sitting back in his car seat, flushed, tear-stained face turned away from the door. The door must have somehow closed shut and he couldn't figure out how to get out.
As I run to the door and open it, he brings his sleeve up and quickly, harshly wipes his eyes dry. One ragged sob and he's pulling himself together - not wanting me to see how upset he was. As I pick him up, suddenly barely a vestige of the sobbing toddler I'd seen through the glass: "I cried," he says, matter-of-factly. "I called 'Mommy, Mommy.' I was scared."
"I know you were," I said. "I'm so sorry."
Another stifled sob.
"Let's go have some lunch." he says.
"Okay," I respond.
And we silently agree not to talk about it any more, me and the boy who isn't a baby any more.
Lotsa News
So, let's not bury the lede here and announce two very important things:
1 - Matty is walking;
2 - Danny has been FULLY potty trained for two days and running.
Frankly, I could faint with the excitement around here. Lucky Pops got to witness both.
Video to come.
(Of #1, of course.)
1 - Matty is walking;
2 - Danny has been FULLY potty trained for two days and running.
Frankly, I could faint with the excitement around here. Lucky Pops got to witness both.
Video to come.
(Of #1, of course.)
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
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