Memories...

Thinking of the sandbox at the old house reminded me that I had pictures of the actual event.

I can't believe Adam was ever that young looking!

Who is the smartest? "muh-muh-meee!"

Adam is trying his hardest to learn which letters make which sounds. True to toddler form, he is overapplying one of the first simple rules. He has mastered that the sound that makes "tuh-tuh" is said "Tee" (learned by the following phrase "tuh-tuh-tee!") and "buh-buh" is "Bee"...etc. Unfortunately, according to his logic, the sound "ruh-ruh" is the letter "Reeee!" and "fff-ffff" is "Feee!"

Frankly, I think his logic makes much more sense than does actual English language and/or alphabet. The calculus involved in our language is so complicated.

That Old House

We have been living our new house just a few months short of one year now. We are still growing into it, but we've racked up enough memories in this new space for me to consider it where I belong at the end of the day.

Mind you, I'm not calling it "home".

As someone who was transplanted from Seattle as an adult, I don't know if any place other than Seattle is "home".

As a former military-brat-child, I don't know if I can actually know what "home" is.

Nonetheless, this place, this house we are in, it holds several seasons' worth of memories for us. The children, however, they love to reflect upon the old house. I don't find it terribly surprising that Adam has a long standing narrative of the old house, since he was 3 1/2 when we moved and was very verbal and thus able to discuss with us at length details about our old vs. new house and why we were moving.

Natasha, however, surprised the heck out of me when she recalled taking a bath in the kitchen sink at the old house. We did this when the bathtub was off limits because of the new caulk job we had to do to get the house ready to sell.

So now her new favorite thing is to weave together a narrative of our old house based upon her memories and the stories that Adam recalls. As far as they remember, here are the Betz highlights (in order of popular story request by both Betz kids):

1) The dead bird
About two weeks before we moved, a bird fell out of the tree in front of our house and died. Adam found its carcass. I did not remove it quickly enough causing the old house to be known for many months as "the dead bird house".

2) Bathing in the kitchen sink
Both kids had to do this while the upstairs bathtub was off limits during repair. Neither kid was fond of the standup shower stall in the basement.

3) The big ol' sandbox
The one that daddy and Adam built together. Adam spent many, many, many, many hours in there. Natasha was a mere infant when they built it. I remember looking out our bedroom window upon the two: Adam - thinking he was such a big boy helping as he hammered with his stick on a piece of wood. DH, completey absorbed in his project. I bounced Natasha on my shoulder trying to get her to sleep so I could join the two.

4) Bringing Natasha home
Adam was only a few weeks old when we moved into the old house, so of course, he has no memory of the event. He does, however, vaguely recall when Natasha came home (I think this is only because we have pics of the event and talk about it often). Natasha recalls the event from a third person perspective ("I camed home and Adam was there and I had my nookie");(Nookie is Natasha-speak for pacifier).

5) Riding our bikes to Cheryl's
Cheryl, our daycare provider, lived only blocks from us, which is how I found her. I used to experiment with many modes of transport depending upon the kids' ages. I remember being pregnant with Natasha and taking Adam to daycare. I had him in the backpack on my shoulders, walked Desi on a leash, Natasha bulged in my belly, and I had a new little puppy zipped up in my jacket with her head poking out because it was so cold.

But that's not what Adam and Natasha recall. They remember when Adam would ride his bike to Cheryl's and I would push Natasha in a stroller right behind him. Now we are much too far to get to her house on foot (or bike).

Hair yesterday...gone today...

I cut Natasha's hair. I've been trying to get it all to one length since she was born, but it's all come in at its own crazy pace. She had a mullet for about a year (just naturally business in the front and party in the back, I guess)...We finally gave her a bob with some bangs.

At least we don't have to go through the pain of putting a barrette in every day now.

Before:



After:

Hello. Is there anybody in there?

Please leave a comment if you can hear me.

I have been MIA for over a year now. Tried to do the full time school, work, kids, whatever else thing. It worked for about a year. Then, when we bought the new house, the straw broke the camel's back. Apparently I am the camel.

31 years old? Check.

Nervous breakdown? Check.

School, the piece of my life that is utterly important to me has taken a backburner. It was the only "optional" thing. Turns out, when you become a mom, you are the last on your own list.

I kind of knew this was the case, but I guess I thought I could somehow outrun the cliche.

I cannot.

Ironically, it turns out that I can again run. A lot. Did 5 miles on Sunday. If I don't run, I'm psychotic. It's in my genetic code that I, physiologically, NEED to run. A marathon is on my list of life goals. It only takes a few months to train and I got a few months since I'm not in school, so why not?

I should update this blog about the kids and how great they are and how cute, etc...but if you know me well enough to read this, then I have already updated you in person.

Let this be said: Adam is 4 going on 17. As protective as ever over his younger sister. Loves his movies. Loves to shoot hoops and wants to sign up for basketball. Has all of his planets in the solar system memorized.

Natasha is 2 1/2 and has finally started calling herself "big girl" instead of "the baby". She's got her colors and numbers down. Mommy cut her hair and gave her a bob because she had 100,000 layers of crazy curls. She's still our little daredevil. She got a scooter from St. Nick and, just like she normally does, practiced riding it nonstop until she perfected the art.

Please bear with me

Obviously, I am searching for a template that will work for me. There are 100,000 of 'em out there...it's been a long process.

Hang in there. I'll find something that will work. Eventually.

Dang it. I wish I would have signed up with wordpress or moveable type; their themes are so much better.

Tricks are for kids

Devin is on his way home now. His flight left late. After a Mt. Dew for the road right before he boarded the flight and utter excitement to see his family and sleep in his bed after 6 weeks of being stuck in Minnesota, I'm sure he's bristling with excitement.

If he were not forced to be strapped into his seat on the plane, he'd be doing backflips right about now.

Thankfully for him, he got his fill of backflips while visiting us. Adam is in the "watch this, mommy!" stage right now. I naively thought this stage would end soon. But after watching no less than 3087 back tucks, 901 forward tucks, 873 off-the-tree flips, and countless other tricks of Devin's, I fear this stage might never end.

Devin made me capture 80% of his tricks on film. Yes, they are quite impressive. As I told him, if I did a backflip off of a tree, you can bet I'd make everyone I know (and many I don't) watch footage of it repeatedly. So, while I don't begrudge him for wanting his talents recognized, I must admit that I do more than my share of watching "This!"

So, if you are dying to see it, here is footage of Devin, flipping off a tree. He's gonna be a famous performer of some sort one day, so don't forget: you saw it here first!

Sensitive Soul

My Adam...he is extremely sensitive. He doesn't warm up to most people quickly, but once he does, he completely trusts you and he'll be in love with you forever. So, his favor is worth the work - he'll reward you in spades.

Today was his daycare provider's 12th anniversary reunion. We love Cheryl. Everyone who has entrusted their children to her loves her. We lucked out when we found her. I knew nothing about finding the right provider, but I knew that I could trust my intuition and my intuition was extremely dead on when it told me that I should run and jump at the chance to let her take care of my children while I attend school, clean the house, and tend to things other than my brood.

Adam took about two months to warm up to the setting. But he immediately fell in love with Zach and Katie. They are both extremely sweet kiddos who have since moved on. Adam wasn't even two when they left Cheryl's, but Adam was deeply upset by them leaving. He would cry some mornings, telling me in his best 2-yr old vocabulary "Zackie and Katie all gone..."

One year later he STILL talks about them. After seeing them at the reunion today he told me, "I saw Zach and Katie and now I'm happy but they not at Cheryl's anymore so I sad but I saw them now and so I happy" (forgive the runon sentence, but it's hard to transcribe a toddler accurately).

That said, can you see the happiness on this child's face? I have not captured a genuine smile from him in ages (ever since he's learned the "cheese!" pose, natural smiles have been out the door).

Fun at the park

A letter from my television

I found this letter laying on the floor this morning. Printed dot-matrix style. The text was smudged as though it had been written through tears. I thought I would share it with you.

"Do you think it's easy being me? C'mon, look at me! I'm a 10-year old 28" Sony Trinitron. While 10 years old may not sound that old to you, it's like 200 in technology years. Seriously. You replaced your laptop when it was only THREE years old. Yet you still expect me to hold up to my greuling schedule of 15 hrs of nonstop, uninterrupted programming.

I've done so much for you. It's high time you start giving me some respect.

Look. I don't want to complain. The truth is, my worst fear is being replaced. I've seen those ads for those fancy schmancy flat screen tv's. I had no choice! I'm the TV! I had to watch them! But I also saw the look on your face as you sadly wished you could afford one, making a mental note to wait until they came down in price so you could run to Sam's Club or Sears and purchase one. All I could do was hold back my tears and continue to show the commercial, albeit in shamefully low resolution. Still. I did my best.

We've been through a lot. I consider myself part of this family, even though I don't have a name. I was here before the kids. Before the dog. Hell! I was here before Jason even married you! Oh, man! I could tell you some things about him! The stuff he used to watch before you came around. Let's just say, he knows a little bit more about monster trucks and the Miss America Pageant than he'll ever admit.

I didn't complain when you came into the picture. In fact, it was kind of nice not to have to watch Seinfeld and Simpsons ad nauseum. It was a treat to occasionally watch a salacious episode of the Real World or some CNN. I had not seen pictures of Japan since I left the factory! Man, things have changed there.

I've been through six moves with you and Jason. That doesn't include the moves I've been through alone with him. Look how well I have held up! Yeah, the plate broke off my face revealing my AV inputs, and the bottom of me is all chipped up, but I'm still running flawlessly! You even spilled a couple gallons of oil into me during your move from Seattle to LA. Except for emitting the stench of motor oil every now and then, it didn't affect me one bit.

But this. C'mon. How much longer am I going to have to put up with THIS? I can handle Tivo and I can handle Direct TV. I don't particularly like how they think they run the show, when really, they would be nothing without me, but I am a silent leader. I don't need to be in the limelight. I can handle the toddler fingerprints all over my screen (you blame ME for the crappy picture quality!). I can take the spilled kool-aid running underneath me, and the wrong buttons constantly being banged on. But really, do we have to watch 8 hours of Dora every day?

If I had known this is what having a Tivo meant, I would have stopped working a long time ago. I know how lazy you two are. You wouldn't completely get rid of me. You would have just put me on the dresser in the spare bedroom thinking someday you'd get me working again. But now the jig is up. You know I can do it. And you refuse to get another television set right now. So I am forced to bring you endless amounts of Dora and Backyardigans. Not just ANY Dora or Backyardigans. But specific episodes! C'mon, we all know what's going to happen: Dora and Boots have to save King Popo from the mean magician. But wait! How will they figure out the way to the mountains so they can save the king? Oh no! The world is going to end! Who will help them find the way? WAAAHHH!

Oh, that's right. Ask Map! He knows the way! Ok, across the bridge, over the rocks, to the mountains. Let's go. Seriously! We've done this like 800 times already, let's get this mofo in the can. I don't need to repeat it 7 times.

Look, you know I love the kids. I understand they have simple tastes. It's just that...well, I guess I'm just tired. And I'm feeling a little insecure about my age. And, well, it wouldn't hurt if you would show me some attention every now and then. Clean my screen. Maybe dust my top off once in awhile. Put a nice plant on top of me or something. I just need to know you care. I mean, after all we've been through, you could show me a little appreciation once in awhile. If you do, I promise I won't tell Jason that you are addicted to watching Dr. Phil every day.

Love,

Your Television"

Technorati Tags: Toddlers, Dora The Explorer, motherhood, mothering, Backyardigans, Television

Google & Giggle

Because I chose to use the word "monkeys" in the title of this blog, I get a lot of visitors directed from Google who have googled phrases like "monkey butt pictures", "cute monkeys", and, inexplicably, "monkeys breastfeeding". So, for you mis-led readers, whose hopes of finding weird monkey trivia are dashed upon visiting my site, I will occasionally try to post something just for you in a weekly letter called "Dear Google Visitor".

Here is today's first installment.

Dear Google Visitor searching for Monkeys Playing Poker Picture,

First of all, I am sorry that you came to my site by accident. I can tell you why you ended up here. The title "Monkey" in my blog. Secondly, I wrote a piece a while back about Adam and Jason's poker obsession. So, while it was entertaining, I'm sure it isn't what you were looking for.

Here. Will this do?


Now that we have that cleared up, might I suggest something for your next search for a picture? Instead of using MSN for your search, you'd probably get a better result using Google's Image search. You don't even have to wade through text. It's great! And now that I have the monkey's playing poker picture on my site, the Google Image search just might lead you back to me.

I hope you found what you were looking for, Gentle Google Visitor. Please come back again as I am sure I will have more monkey trivia collected on my site in the near future.

Sincerely,

Mama Monkey

The Speed of Summer

Why does summer have to end so quickly? Nevermind. I can answer that. It's because up here in Minnesota, where it's winter 9 months out of the year, you 3 months have to cram in all of your fun outdoor recreation and your not-so-fun outdoor projects (like building a 200 sq foot patio, completely relandscaping your front yard, pulling out 6 poky, thorny, evil shrubs).

I know what you're thinking. It's only August 1. The end of summer is nowhere close. Well, Mr. Know It All, that's where you're wrong. See, for some dumb reason, my college decided that "Fall" semester should start on August 21. That's only 20 days away.

And now I have exactly 20 days to finish all of the projects I started and have as much fun as possible. Those two goals seem mutually exclusive, but I'll have to find a way. Once fall semester starts I'll be even busier, but in a much less fun way. Biology and Literature, here I come!

Translation

I wrote an essay for my English class on learning to speak Minnesotan. I won't make you read the whole thing, instead, I'd like to offer you the following translations, should you, traveling to or from Minnesota, ever want to communicate with the locals.

West Coast Speak .........................Minnesota Equivalent
Muggy.........................................................Humid
Lunch..........................................................Dinner
Dinner.........................................................Supper
Casserole....................................................Hot Dish
Ok, I've got to go.......................................Well, I suppose...
I'm hungry.................................................Oh, if you're hungry, we can eat
I feel like crap...........................................Oh, things could be worse

The biggest translation problem is not the words themselves, but the indirect way in which the words are used. I've learned that a true Minnesotan never has (or shows, anyway) strong emotions or desires. Being a fairly direct person, I've had a lot of difficulty adjusting to this.

I don't think I'll adopt the very indirect approach, but understanding the local custom helps a little bit.

Safety

How did we all make it out of childhood alive? Personally, I owe a great deal of gratitude to Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of the antibiotic effects of Penicillin. If it weren't for this wonder drug, I'd probably be dead - I had at least three ear infections a year, sinus infections, strep throat. Yeah, I'm a hardy specimen.

Beyond the raging bacterial infections that I had to fight off, I grew up outside the era of the extra-safe childhood. Like, I remember the 80 foot tall slide made of unforgiving steel that towered above actual concrete. The slide would heat up all day long under the scorching sun silently waiting for our little exposed legs to touch it so it could give us a fine searing. If someone had poured olive oil on the thing, I'm sure the school playground would have smelled of scent of lightly sauteed school children.

If the burns inflicted upon us were not enough to challenge our existence, we had to ensure that we would never fall off the damn thing. Because if we did, we didn't land on that nice blacktop or the soft rubber mulch they use now. We would have hit the concrete and left a school-child body-shaped dent. Of course, that would mean we would have bled or broke something, so the upshot is that we would have gotten to go home early that day. Sweet! I can hear the shouts now "Oh, Jenny! Your'e clavicle shattered! You're so lucky!"

Now things are so very different. As a slightly neurotic parent, I am glad things are safer. There are so many things to worry about. Things to choke on, fall off of, get hit by, run into, and so on. With my particular children, I have two different sets of worries. With Adam, I have never worried about his physical development getting too ahead of his cognitive development. He's never been overly confident and doesn't usually climb things. But, he is very clumsy. I swear he'll be standing still in the middle of the room, nothing around him and he'll just keel over like some schoolyard bully just tackled him. I think he gets that from me.

Natasha, on the other hand, well, she is a spider. At 7 months, she was climbing things that Adam barely started climbing at 18 months. She's very small, which helps, but she's also very strong. I think she has the strength of 10 grown men. Every ounce of physical self-assuredness that Adam may lack, Natasha makes up for in spades. So, yes, she worries me.

I vascillate between wanting to protect my children from all the dangers that are lurking waiting to snatch them from my protective grip and make us spend time getting to know the ER nurse, and thinking that if, somehow, I made it through childhood with a few minor injuries, that my children can too. But then I get the One Step Ahead catalog and wonder if I should be doing more than keeping the kids off the table and out of the street.

Like, maybe I should buy two of these so that when they do fall down, which they inevitably will, the kids will not sustain a massive head injry.



Yes, this bumper bonnet is an actual product marketed to terrified parents like myself so that when Jr. slips on a piece of macaroni n' cheese, he won't hurt his head. Thanks One Step Ahead.


Thank goodness Natasha and Adam are past the crawling stage, otherwise I would have to buy these knee protectors. Wait, Natasha! You can't crawl yet, you need your knee protectors on!



Frankly, it's kind of funny watching a baby learn to crawl on a hardwood floor. And what baby would actually keep those little legwarmers on? Personally, I think it's a way for the leg warmer industry to try to make a comeback. They market to babies, hooking them on the product early on.

Ok, ok, you argue that accidents are the leading cause of death among children between 1-15. You make a good point, but the biggest number of these deaths are caused by car accidents. Even with $300 + car seats, we still manage to leave our children at risk in the car. Fortunately, our hospital has a car seat class. It's a two-hr class designed to scare the shit out of expecting parents who are not only stressed about the major impending life change, but now have to learn how to properly install a gadget with 9,000 parts, including 857 buckles.

I don't mean to sound righteous, but back in the day, safety in the car meant sitting as far away from your big sister as you could so she wouldn't kick you.

Somehow, all of us parents have reached adulthood. Looking at all the safety products, we scratch our heads wondering how we did it. I would like to say it's survival of the fittest, but given my track record with illnesses, I think in my case it's a combination of luck and survival of the meekest.

Now if I can figure out how to keep Natasha from spinning on the ceiling fan, I think I might be able to get my kids out of childhood alive.

Technorati Tags: toddlers, safety, motherhood, mothering, car seats

Peak Oil

I REALLY do not want to have a political blog. I've tried to keep all my posts about my error filled journey into and through motherhood, but I can no longer resist the urge to post about something that has been eating away at me for a long time.

As soon as I started my summer vacation from school, I decided I would do some light summer reading. Something casual, lofty, and light-hearted.

I went to the library and picked out a few things from various genres:

- A book about parenting (I usually don't read these, but, to my dismay, I actually like the Supernanny!)

- A cookbook (I think I got one on one-pot meals and one for making your own babyfood)

- The Best American Short Stories from 2004

- Crossing the Rubicon

The only one I kept beyond the due date was Crossing the Rubicon. I mean, it is almost 1,000 pages, but that's not the only reason I kept it so long. I would say it was eye-opening, but a better term might be pants-soiling. I had originally attempted to get a book by Richard Clarke, but none were available. So I grabbed this one instead.

I don't know how to convey to you how scary of a book this is. I'll just pretend to be a bad movie reviewer and say...if you only read one book this year, this should be it.

This book, by the way, did not fit the "lighthearted" requirement. It was just something I felt compelled to read after seeing an interview with Mike Ruppert on The Daily Show a long time ago. Rubicon is a non-fiction account of how and why the government was involved in the attacks of 9/11. However, the most enlightening concept within the book is the subject of Peak Oil - how it rules our lives and how it is fueling (pardon the pun) the current wars in the middle east.

Go now, and follow the link to the book. In case you don't feel like scanning my preceeding paragraphs, here it is again. I doubt that many of you feel like reading all 1,000 pages of the book, so instead, I have compiled a list of great links that will provide an overview of what Ruppert discusses in his tome.

I implore you to read as many of these as possible and to familiarize yourself with peak oil and to decide what behaviors of yours you are going to change so that you contribute less to the problem.

Wiki explainer of Peak Oil

Peak Oil Primer by the Energy Bulletin

Peak Oil News

The most terrifying "Project for the New American Century" and more importantly, an anti-PNAC site

You may disagree with the prophecies Peak Oilers are predicting. Many of their predictions are quite grim. And since having the veil ripped off my eyes, I have had a bowling ball in my stomach thinking about how it is going to affect us. One thing is clear, we are on the verge of WWIII now. So, unable to control world events, I am changing my behavior as best I can.

We'll be trading in our gas guzzler SUV for a Toyota Hybrid. I plant as much of my own food as I can and am learning to be a decent gardener (still, at this rate, if we ate only what I grew, we'd get about 2 beets every 9 months, but we'd sure be up to our ears in tomatoes during August). I am going to put in a compost bin because I feel so wasteful throwing out scraps of food that can be used for something. I'm trying to be less of a consumer and more of a make-do'er; relearning the lessons of thriftyness that our parents' parents knew and lived so well. We have a long way to go but I feel better trying to be more self-sufficient.

One thing that does make me feel better is trying to support the effort of relocalization, which is the antithesis of globalization. While I do support knowing about other cultures as much as one can, globalization enslaves citizens to huge mega-corporations in favor of economies of scale, which only benefit the heads of the economies (CEO's, our government), localization gives the power back to the people. Unfortunately for me, living in Minnesota, it also means that if you only shop at the farmer's market for you food, the only vegetables you eat are rhubarb, tomatoes, and corn. I'll sure miss my Kiwi's from California and my grapes from Peru.

Back from camping

We took the boat and the camper up to Starbuck, MN. In case you are wondering, no, there is no Starbucks there. There is, however, a small coffee shop that purported to have WiFi access. We, being internet fiends, took our laptops and were disappointed when we couldn't get it working; something was wrong with Qwests DHCP server and the people running the shop were not only unknowledgeable about their WiFi, but also very unwilling to help. But we did get coffee.

We spent a lot of time at the lake and Adam went on his first tube ride. Devin again proved his masterful kneeboarding skeelz by jumping waves and attempting a 360. His wipeouts were very impressive.

Here are a few pics:

Casualty

The tree in front of our house was killed. We had a minor thunderstorm this evening with a little bit of wind. I came home from a brief trip to Dairy Queen to find one of our trees laying against the garage. It doesn't look like it did any damage to the house. If it had fallen a few inches left or right, it would have done more damage.

So the weekend project of digging up our back yard has turned into a weekend project of chopping up a tree.

More Cheese

Let's face it. It's been a long time since I've posted some pictures of my children. So, to honor their smiling little faces, I think I will do just that.

We've been a busy family so far this summer.

Here are some pictures from our camping trip:








Natasha's teeth are coming in weird. She has both eye teeth, but not the top two-front teeth (one just started coming in this week, though).



Here is big brother Adam protecting his little sister at the park the other day. Some girl was fascinated by Natasha and followed her around staring at her. Adam didn't like that idea, so he put his arms around her and gave the stranger his best big-brother scowl.



And here is big brother Adam driving Natasha around in the Jeep (a big surprise they found one morning in the garage - Santa Claus daddy came the night before).

Getting Political

I don't normally waste my time saying anything about politics in my blog because I know my audience (hi, mom!). You don't come here to read about politics. You come to see cute pictures of my monkeys.

But I couldn't resist posting the link to this hilarious video made by Comedy Central last year. It made fun of President Bush's poor speaking skills. It's always funny to watch, but of course now that Bush's speechwriter has resigned, it's finally topical.

http://www.devilducky.com/media/23894/

A Few Anecdotes

Adam has wholeheartedly entered the world of "why?" I was determined to meet all of his inquisitiveness with precise scientific answers, but as with all things related to parenting...I get too tired and go the easy route responding "because that's just how it is". This is when being religious would come in handy. I could say "Because that's how God made it", but well...I don't feel ready to try to explain my theological beliefs quite yet.

He had an interesting comeback the other day. I told Jason "you kick my butt" after an exhausting effort to get everything packed and ready for camping. Adam said, "No mommy! I don't kick your butt. Your butt is too big!" I suspected Jason in implanting this into his head, but he claimed innocence. I do believe him, but I wonder where this quick retort came from.

While Natasha hasn't mastered quick wit yet, she is becoming much more communicative. She is learning to say "all gone" while doing the ASL sign. The other day she tried nursing and I guess there was nothing there. She looked up at at me and gave me the sign and said "ahh goh!"