Facebook Posts, November, 2012

Here are my Leatherkid-related Facebook posts from September, 2012. They are unedited and should generally be assumed to start with "Carla Reiter Leatherman..."

This month was a little light on kid-related posts, but there were some classic "Cal-isms."  I couldn't help but include the "Greenie" post from the 1st.  My favorite has to be the "mermaid" post from the 23rd (though the "counting" one from the 16th is a close second).

November 1, 2012

was just reminded why she likes Greenie of Mike and Mike so much - he believes that text messages are not exempt from proper grammar and punctuation... Exactly!

November 4, 2012

has been informed by Cal that he is sucking his thumb "to stop his hiccups." Apparently, he told Dan in the car the other day that he was sucking his thumb because "the wind blew it into his mouth." Goodness. We're screwed.

November 4, 2012

Had a nice run with Cal... and Monkey... and Camel... and Koala Bear (fka Puppy)... and Goat just now. Here they are enjoying some post-run fruit snacks:

My Running Partners

November 9, 2012

Ella's showing an early interest in the profession I should have pursued...


PT Ella



No Tackle Sign



 

 

 

November 11, 2012

The short of the story behind this "sign" is that I asked Cal not to tackle Ella too hard earlier this evening; for the full version of the story, check out my blog later this week.



Play Dough house and cars



November 13, 2012

Cal and I made a model of our house and cars out of Play Dough this past weekend.






November 14, 2012

got this response when I asked Cal if I could crawl into bed with him tonight: "Are you kidding me?!?!! You're TOO BIG."

November 16, 2012

loves how Cal counts backwards by 10 from 90: "Ninety, Eighty, Seventy, Sixty, Fivety, Fourty, Threety, Twoty, Onety, Zeroty."

November 22, 2012

was happy to hear Ella say, "no thumb, Cal" just now. Maybe a little peer pressure from his little sister will get him to stop sucking that thumb.

November 23, 2012

had this little convo about mermaids earlier this AM:
Cal: "A mermaid has fish legs and breast-es."
Me <taking it probably where it needn't go>: "And what are breasts?"
Cal: "Breast-es... big girls have breast-es to hold milk for the babies in their tummys and they have big nickels."
Kids are so fun.

November 23, 2012

has another Irish fan on her hands -- Dan, pointing to the ND logo on his pullover, asked Ella if she knew what it was. Her response? "Dame... go Irish!"

November 25, 2012

was on the receiving end of an unsolicited "ti to, Mama" just now as she handed Ella a cup of apple juice. Love her!

Ella's Orange World

With two kids, I naturally measure Ella’s development against Cal’s at the same age to assess her progress.  The younger of the two, Ella seems to have hit major milestones at around the same age as Cal did – rolled over at 3 or 4 months, pulled herself up at 9 months, walked at 1 and got her teeth late (Ella was 13 months before her first tooth popped through!)  I don’t know if this is to be expected or just dumb luck – thus far, they’ve been pretty much the same kid.

This is not to say that I have expectations for Ella that she match or exceed Cal's developmental progress.  I certainly do not.  Cal's development is just what I know. 

I’d have to consult Cal’s baby book to know for sure, but if memory serves me right, he was saying a lot of words at 15 months and by 18 months was talking clearly in full sentences.  By 18 months, he knew his shapes really well, his favorite being the triangle – Cal would see triangles in “nature” (e.g. the roof of a house, etched in a tree, a random structure at a zoo) and point them out to us.  "Look at the triangle!" he'd exclaim as we were walking down the street, which introduced a potentially long search for the triangle that was surely there.  Cal also knew his colors at 18 months, if not sooner.

Ella certainly talks as much as Cal did at her age; it’s just not as clear what she’s saying.  Ask her to pronounce any word, and she’ll give it a good try, usually hitting the first and last syllables pretty well.  For example, when I ask her if she can say “helicopter” (a tough, multi-syllabic word for a little one), she’ll respond “he-ca-er” (or something like that – it’s hard to say).  I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know her shapes.  If she does, she’s a pretty good faker.  Pronouncing the shape words aside, if I ask her to point to the circle or the square on a page full of shapes, it’s anyone’s guess what shape she’ll actually point to on the page.

Over the weekend, I played a lot of “what color is this?” with Ella, an entertaining game from which I repeatedly walked away laughing and wondering if our little Ella might be color blind.  Everything is orange, or “ordage,” as Ella puts it.  “What color is your shirt, Ya Ya?” I might ask, to which she quickly responds, “ordage” whether it actually is orange or not.  The fact that she always answers "ordage" always cracks me up.

Green and Orange pages from
the Sesame Street Colors book

We have a Sesame Street characters book of colors.  One of those soft, “bubble” books suitable for bath time, each page is dedicated to a color and has three items of that color on it.  One item is a Sesame Street character (e.g. Elmo) and the other two items are familiar foods or animals.  Over the weekend, we spent a bit of time on this book, where Ella held the book and I asked her what color things were as she turned the pages.

On the Elmo page:

Me: “Who is that, Ya Ya?” <I still can't help myself and call her Ya Ya.>

Ella: “Elmo!”

Me: “That’s right, and what color is Elmo?”

Ella: “Ordage!”

Me: “No, Baby Girl, Elmo is red.  Can you say ‘red?’”

Ella: “Ret.”

On the Zoe page:

Me: “Who is that, Ya Ya?”

Ella: “Zoe!”

Me: “That’s right, and what color is Zoe?”

Ella: “Ordage!”

Me: “That’s right!  Or-ange!  Can you point to the pumpkin?”

Ella: <points to the pumpkin – she knows that shape!>

Me: “That’s right! What color is the pumpkin?”

Ella: “Ordage!”

Me: “That’s right!”

On the Grover page:

Me: “Who is that, Ya Ya?”

Ella: “Coo-kee.”

Me: “No, you know, that’s Grover.  He does look like Cookie Monster. What color is Grover?”

Ella: “Ordage!”

Me: “Blue… Grover is blue.  Can you say ‘blue?’”

Ella: “Boo.”

One time she incorrectly said something was “red” and another time said something was “por-pul,” so I know she knows there are other colors.  At least, I think she knows they're colors.  Sometimes I think she’s playing with me, feeding off of my obvious amusement with her “ordage” answers. Perhaps she really does know her colors and will only let on that she does when my amusement evolves into concern.  Until then, I’m chalking up this “ordage” thing to simple entertainment for the Leathermans -- at least, for this Leatherman it is.

Eleventh Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas

On the eleventh stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, we learned from Mrs. Wader that corn is a starch.

Given Cal's borderline obsession with the movie Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer and the number of times we watched it over the course of our 11 stay-at-home days, it might be surprising that we managed to watch a lot of Frosty the Snowman, too, most often at Ella's request.  "Watch Fwosty?" she'd say.  Frankly, it was always a welcome break from Rudolph.

There's a scene early in the movie before any of the kids have even met Frosty.  We get to know Walter Wader a bit -- he's a nervous boy, a big rule follower and terribly intimidated by his mother.  In this scene, we're in the Waders' living room, and there's a knock at the door.  This triggers an exchange between Walter and Mrs. Wader.  I don't remember the exact exchange (Cal would), but Walter's mom starts pounding Walter with questions starting with what should he do when someone's at the door?  Walter responds that he should answer it.  Mrs. Wader tells him no.  Walter wonders if he should grab a can of vegetables, corn perhaps, and hit the guest with it.  Mrs. Wader then corrects him -- "corn is not a vegetable, Walter, it's a starch."  And the scene goes on from there.

This stuck in all of our minds.  Well, everyone's but Ella's.  There's a good chance that she didn't really hear it given her penchant for "watching" only the first 10 minutes of a movie before moving on to something else.  But for awhile, Dan was able to replay the exchange for us pretty close to word-for-word.  I was just happy to know this fact.  And Cal?  In addition to participating in the scene replay with Dan, Cal now always answers this question correctly:  "What kind of food is corn?  Is it a vegetable?"  His response is always a confident, "corn is a starch."  I'm waiting for the day when he corrects his teacher -- "our vegetable today is corn," the teacher might say, to which Cal will respond snottily, "CORN is not a vegetable... corn is a STARCH!"

As much fun as we had with the whole corn-is-a-starch bit, Cal's favorite quote from Frosty the Snowman was from a scene much later in the movie.  Frosty had shaken up the town of Evergreen, and Walter had witnessed Frosty's apparent drowning, the result of being misled by Principal Pankley.  Walter is sleeping restlessly, having what appears to be a nightmare.  It was during this nightmare that Cal started smiling because he knows what's coming.  Once Walter awakens abruptly and exclaims, "Frosty, Frosty!  Look out!" Cal was laughing heartily.

The quote itself was really unremarkable.  I'm not sure what about it was so funny to Cal.  But it was and still is, even through to today.  "Frosty, Frosty!  Look out!"  BAAAAHAAAAAA!  Cal's amusement with this makes the rest of us laugh, too.

Tenth Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas

On the tenth stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, we met Kel Kel and the cousins at Jump Zone for some fun.

Superman Inflatable (Ella still says
"no Supe-man" at random times
today, referring to this thing)

If you've never been to one of these inflatable play centers, you're really not missing out on much.  With all kinds of blow-up bouncers, slides and moonwalks the perfect size for kids under 10 years old, most kids have a lot of fun just running around from one blow-up to the next, constantly moving and without a plan.  For adults, it's usually a 2-hour exercise in standing, watching the same thing over and over again.  If you're lucky, you lose sight of your kid amongst the sea of other similar-sized kids a time or two and, well, freak out.

Me, I just enjoy watching Cal OWN these places.  He attacks every inflatable without fear, climbing high and steep, bounding over and through and hitting the slide hard and fast... and then doing it again and again and again.  He spends little time thinking about he wants to do -- he just does.

Having a birthday party at one of these places has been pretty common amongst the kids in Cal's age group, and that's usually been our reason for going to a Jump Zone or Airtastic; but the Thursday after Christmas we actually CHOSE to go during a special holiday OPEN PLAY window.  We didn't go alone -- we met Aunt Kelly; her kids, Ry Ry, Nora and Fiona; and Dan's brother's kids, Shannon and Erin.

It really was wonderful -- I love seeing the cousins play together.  One thing made it particularly notable in my memory.  Ella just did not want to go on or in or down any of the inflatables.  I don't know if it's because she was afraid, tired or just picky, but she preferred the Little Tykes 3x3x3 plastic house over the humongous inflatables, some even made with the interests of kids her age and size in mind.  Anytime I tried to get her to go on an inflatable to get at least a nickel of our money's worth, she resisted strongly and loudly.  This didn't stop Shannon, the kids' 9-year-old cousin -- with unprecedented enthusiasm and positive thinking, she encouraged Ella to the big slide, fought her resistance and carried her kicking and whining up the steep set of "stairs" (slots) to the top, set her down at the top of the slide and sent Ella down the slide.

It was the last time Ella went down that slide or on any other inflatable... at least that day, it was.

Ninth Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas

On the ninth stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, Cal played tackle football with Elmo and Gorilla.

"Blue 24!  Blue 24!  Omaha!  Tackle!  Second down!" Cal would exclaim and then take off in a full sprint, holding a football, across our living room.  Before he hit the tile just inside the front door, he'd toss the football and then throw his body onto the floor in an attempt to recover the football, which he usually did.

Cal's Football Partners (from left: Ball, Gorilla and Elmo)



As if that wasn't amusing enough, Cal also held in his hands Elmo and Gorilla, two stuffed animals that were either serving as his teammates or the defense or one of each (it was hard to say).  At no choice of their own, they went along with him on the sprint and then went along with the ball during the toss.

Now, Cal has a lot of stuffed animals... A LOT.  What makes this story even funnier to me is that no one else has been chosen to play tackle football with him -- not Monkey, not Teddy Bay-eh, not Puppy or Skinny Monkey... not even Mickey.  It's ALWAYS Elmo and Gorilla, a very mis-matched, unexpected combination of partners in Cal's game, which he continues to play even today.

Seventh and Eighth Stay-at-Home Days of the Leatherman Christmas

On the seventh stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, Ella took her medicine without a fight.

The Monday before our 11 stay-at-home days, we learned that Ella had an ear infection.  She has a history of them –- not enough of a history that she needs tubes but enough of a history that we can read the signs.  This was her first one of the season, and we went right to the high-dose antibiotic for treatment.  It was in a liquid form and sweetened up a bit for Ella’s liking so as to better facilitate consumption.

Ella, post-medicine administration

Yeah, right.  She talked a big game, seemingly excited to take the “met-sin”; but when it came time to execute on that, she battled every attempt we made.  Ella’s battle typically involved screaming, kicking feet and “zerbert-style” spitting as we put the “met-sin” into her mouth.  We tried shooting it into her mouth with a syringe and tried spooning it into her mouth with plastic medicine spoon.  With both, I’d say half of the “met-sin” ended up in her mouth, the other half on her face.  We’d push any substantial globs that landed on her face into her mouth with our fingers.  We tried giving it to her sitting up and lying down.  We tried drops of chocolate atop the “met-sin” in the spoon.  We also tried plugging her nose as we gave her the “met-sin,” drawing on the experiences we had with our ailing cat (RIP Squeaker).

This fight oftentimes left us stressed and splattered with "met-sin" ourselves.  It was generally pretty ugly, and we had the battle to dread twice a day.  By the start of our 11 stay-at-home days, we had had a couple of successes (Dan more than I); but there were still no guarantees of any level of cooperation, and the failures continued (I more than Dan).  But on the last day that she was to take the "met-sin" (the day after Christmas), Ella did most of the work -- she lay on the couch and opened her mouth wide, and I poured the "met-sin" into her mouth.  There was no kicking, no zerbert-style spitting.  She swallowed it all and then smiled big and proud as Cal and I praised her excessively.

On the eighth stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, Cal made me a princess crown.

Cal likes it when I dress like a princess.  This isn't something I aspire to do or be -- really, all I need to do is don a skirt, and I'm a princess in his eyes.  I nail the look when I add a scarf, sparkly shoes or my dress boots.

One evening during our 11 stay-at-home days, I had a wake to attend and threw on a skirt and my dress boots and sat with Cal and Ella at the kitchen table as I waited for Dan to get home from work.  Cal was coloring at the time.  Seeing me in my skirt triggered princess thoughts in his head, and he announced that he was going to make me a princess crown that I could take with me that night.

Such a thoughtful kid.  He retrieved his toolbox -- the one with some screws, nuts, nails, multi-holed washers, screwdriver and hammer, all made of wood.  He asked me for some help, and then it became an exercise in creativity and problem-solving -- how could we fit these supplies together as some semblance of a crown that I could fit or at least balance on my head for a bit?

My crown, wrapped and tagged

With a design in my head, I provided him the instruction and he did the work.  When all the supplies in his toolbox were gone, Cal declared the crown to be ready except that he wanted to wrap it before giving it to me.  I really didn't want to wrap this thing; so we compromised, and I dug out a bow for him to use.  While I was getting the bow, he wrote a note on a post-it and attached that to the crown.  The note read: "FROM MOMMY CAL."

We took some pictures of each of us with the crown on, and then I headed to the car with the crown in my hand.  I set it on the passenger's seat, and it made the trip to the wake with me along with my smile.

Fifth and Sixth Stay-at-Home Days of the Leatherman Christmas

Another change in plans -- I'm consolidating some posts for my 11 stay-at-home days of the Leatherman Christmas in the interest of just getting them done and having some freedom to write about other "Leatherkidisms" as they present themselves.  I feel as though I've already missed out on some good material given this self-inflicted restriction.  So here are the fifth- and sixth-day posts.

On the fifth stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, Cal complained about his gifts.

Imagine the scene:  Six adults and four kids sitting in a sea of gifts, half of them opened, half still wrapped. At this particular moment, Cal is the center of attention -- it's his turn to open a gift which he is holding in his hands as he stands, ready to get to work.  It's a rectangular shirt box, so I have a general idea what the gift is.  Cal tore the wrapping paper off of the box and clumsily opened the box which then fell to the ground, its contents tumbling out as it fell.  For some reason, this gift put him over the proverbial edge, an edge on which no one should find himself at Christmas.  His response upon opening it was one of exasperation: "WHY do PEOPLE keep GIVING me this STUFF?!?!!!"

I was mortified, as any mother would be after her ungrateful kid just made that statement in front of people.  Completely unprepared for it, my response was simple and ineffective: "CAL!"  Everyone seemed to laugh it off (I didn't ask what they were really thinking) and didn't say much about it the rest of the day.  I haven't forgotten it and can only hope I'm the only one (other than Dan) who hasn't forgotten it.  I'm chalking this up to a fluke and something that will never happen again... please, never happen again.

On the sixth stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, I rocked Ella to sleep with no "no nigh nigh."

It was after 7pm on Christmas Day, a napless day for Ella and Cal.  We were winding down with my dad, sister and nephews, and Ella was becoming cranky -- prime for putting to bed without a fight, so I jumped on the opportunity to do so.

Ella said her "good nights," and off we went to her room.  I quickly got her changed into her jammies and couldn't resist the glider which was inviting me and Ella to sit for a bit and rock.  It had been a long day for me, too, and a little silence and alone time with my daughter was more appealing than ever.  I'll just rock her for a few minutes, I thought to myself.  No one will notice my absence.

I've written about rocking Ella to sleep and how special it is before (see Sweet Ella), so I won't re-hash that.  What made this notable during our 11 stay-at-home days was rocking Ella to sleep in complete silence knowing what was wrapped around that moment.  Shopping.  Cleaning.  Driving places.  Wrapping gifts.  Baking and cooking.  Visiting family.  Talking with family.  Performing late-night Santa duties.  "No nigh nigh" chatter.  Playing with new toys.  General day-to-day kid management.  Very hectic, rarely quiet and never relaxing.

Ella was sound asleep in my arms, her head curled tightly under my chin and body limp againts my chest, in a matter of minutes after we settled into the glider.  Not once did she utter "no nigh nigh."  I could have placed her into her crib right away but chose to keep rocking.  I could hear the faint sounds of Christmas winding down coming up from downstairs and over that, Ella's deep-sleep breaths.  I felt relaxed, at peace and simply happy.  What a special Christmas gift Ella gave me without even knowing it.

Fourth Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas

On the fourth stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, we colored 109 pages from the Rudolph coloring book.

No kidding -- 109 pages colored, and I probably tore out 100 of them.

Clarice (colored by Cal)

Early in our 11 stay-at-home days, I broke out the Rudolph coloring book I had bought at Costco earlier in December.  This thing rivaled Tom Clancy novels in thickness and character coverage.  I believe every character-scene combination easily had 5 pages to color.  Rudolph and Fireball, Rudolph and Clarice, Rudolph and Hermey, Rudolph and Hermey and Yukon, Rudolph and Hermey and Yukon and the Abominable Snow Monster, Rudolph and Santa, Rudolph and Santa and Donner, Rudolph and Donner, the head elf alone, the head elf and Hermey, all to only scratch the surface of the main characters.  There was a page with Mrs. Donner and Clarice walking across the ice to the left and then another page with essentially the same scene, this time walking right.  All of the “Misfit Toys” had multiple pages to color – Charlie in the Box, the spotted elephant, the train with square wheels, the cowboy who rode an ostrich, the bird who couldn’t fly but could swim, the scooter (which I can't remember what made it misfit)… all of these and more were in this coloring book.

109 pages is roughly half of the coloring book, maybe a little less. To qualify for the count of pages we colored, a page need only have evidence that a crayon touched it.  This rule ensured that Ella's contributions and Cal's half-colored/half-scribbled pictures were included. So “coloring” included Ella’s scribbles, Cal’s successes staying in the lines, Cal’s failures and subsequent quits at staying in the lines and a handful of Dan’s and my works of art.

Cal tried to enforce rules on himself and everyone else, too. The reindeer should be colored brown, Santa's hat and coat should be colored red and any Christmas tree should be colored green. Everyone was free to color the balled ornaments whatever color he or she wanted. And given that we watched Rudolph seemingly incessantly over the course of our 11 stay-at-home days (see Second Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas), Cal eventually learned what colors the characters' clothes, hats and, in the case of the toys, exterior decorations should be and provided guidance as we colored the lesser-known characters in the pictures.

We had only a few "fights" while coloring the 109 pages. Sometimes, Cal would start coloring a page and then quit, apparently failing to meet some "quality" criteria he had in his head for himself. I thought this was wasteful, and I was afraid he was holding himself to a level of perfection that I don't want him to be doing at 4 years old.  So I called him on it and insisted he continue to color the "problem" page or sometimes take a break.  Other times, Ella would scribble on Cal's page which just lead to my need to jump in to keep the peace. And a couple of times Cal actually colored, unsolicited, part of my picture. Now, this didn't lead to a fight other than with my own self. A perfectionist myself, I would have preferred it be colored my way by me; however, clearly, that wasn't the point of our coloring extravaganza.

At any rate, I thought I'd share a few of our works of art:

Abominable Snow Monster (aka Bumble) -- that's Ella's work of art in the middle;
Cal colored the other two.



Variations of the misfit scooter -- Cal's work is on the left, Ella's on the right.



Yukon Cornelius looking straight (by Dan), looking left (by me) and looking right (by Cal).
These were colored before Cal was providing color direction.


And lucky for us, we've got the other half of the Rudolph coloring book to color next Christmas.

Third Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas

On the third stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas… Cal’s Mickey snow globe bit the dust.

Minnie snow globe

The kids each had a Christmas snow globe that plays “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” when wound. Ella’s is a pink globe with Minnie on the inside, and we wisely had it sitting on an unreachable wall shelf in her room.  Cal’s was a green globe with Mickey on the inside; and this we had sitting on his changing table-turned-dresser, the top of which is very reachable by even our youngest.  Not so wise.

One morning early in our 11 stay-at-home days, I was brushing my teeth in our master bathroom, enjoying the pleasant noises of the kids playing nicely in Cal’s room.  How sweet. Next thing I saw, Ella was proudly entering our tile-floored bathroom, Cal’s fragile Mickey snow globe in her hand.  Yikes.  Don’t act as alarmed as you really are. Our Chapstick standoff (see My Chapstick) came to my mind as I turned and faced her. She had no clue of the gravity of the situation we were in.  I mean, that snow globe was heavy and breakable; and Ella... well, Ella isn't exactly sure-handed just yet.  So I slowly moved toward her and ever so carefully reached for the snow globe. I may have been an inch from retrieving it when it slipped out of her hands and crashed on the floor, shattering into pieces of all sizes.  Nuts!  All that was left of Cal's snow globe was its green base, a wet Mickey figure holding a gift and many sharp edges surrounding him. I immediately removed Ella from the room and quickly cleaned up the mess, tearing a bit as I did so.  I really liked that Mickey snow globe.  How will Cal take this news when he finds out?

By accident, I just didn’t tell Cal about this.  He never asked and maybe even never noticed that his Mickey snow globe was missing from his dresser.

A couple of days later on Christmas Eve, the kids and I ran some errands, and one of them was a stop at Bed Bath and Beyond for some candles.  Every trip to Bed Bath and Beyond includes a little additional browsing for stuff we don’t need, and this trip was no different.  I steered us to the Christmas section, and I saw a Frosty the Snowman decoration/toy that I thought Cal might like as a replacement for his broken Mickey snow globe. Tough to describe, Frosty was stuffed and soft, about 8 inches tall and kneeling on a blue felt sled. Under the sled were a couple of little wheels that, when Frosty was wound and singing his own song, would turn and bounce Frosty along whatever surface he happened to be on at the time.

Holding Frosty, I turned and asked Cal, "Baby Bear, would you like this Frosty to replace your broken Mickey snow globe?"

Cal responded, a concerned expression on his face, "My Mickey snow globe is broken?"

Doh. Rather than throw Ella under the bus, I chose this response, "Yeah, Baby, we broke it the other day. Should we buy Frosty to replace Mickey?"  Of course he thought we should.

We barely had Frosty in our possession and Cal had already forgotten about the fate of his Mickey snow globe. We got home, pulled Frosty out of the bag, wound him up and watched him bounce around on the coffee table. If we did this three more times during what was left of our 11 stay-at-home days, I'd be surprised.  Cal lost interest, and it turned out Ella was a little disturbed by Frosty.  As for the Mickey snow globe, the only sign of sadness over its demise was what he showed in Bed Bath and Beyond on Christmas Eve. Foreshadowing to next Christmas, I suspect he will remember all of this, only slightly different than what really happened: "Mommy, remember my Mickey snow globe?"  I'll say that I do remember it, and then he'll say, "Yeah, you broke it last Christmas." And I'll probably suck it up and take the blame for it.

Second Stay-at-Home Day of the Leatherman Christmas

On the second stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, we watched Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer… again.

We generally reserve movie watching for the weekends – the kids can pick either an episode (implying a Mickey Mouse Clubhouse episode On Demand or DVRd) or a movie.  When we started the Christmas season, Cal was big on Mickey’s Christmas, a trilogy of short stories with genuinely good messages to take away from them. For his birthday earlier in December, we had gotten him the classic “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” DVD.  Cal loved it but only watched it occasionally per the aforementioned weekend-only rule.  That was, until our 11 stay-at-home days kicked off.  It was a special time; so I lifted the movie-watching-on-the-weekends-only rule, and we watched Rudolph EVERY day, typically in the morning and sometimes more than once, always at Cal’s request.  Cal’s feet would barely have hit the floor at the base of the stairs in the morning when he’d be asking, “Can we watch Rudolph?”

Can WE watch Rudolph?  The “we” part of that question is amusing.  Me, what I did when it was on wouldn’t technically qualify as “watching” it, though I did catch all of the scenes multiple times.  I’d make coffee… tool around on the computer… get some more sleep… talk with Ella who, 10 minutes into Rudolph, would typically lose interest.  But Cal was always glued to the TV for the movie’s entirety.

A few days into our 11 stay-at-home days, Cal knew the movie so well that he’d announce that a scene he thought we’d be interested in was coming up.  “Ella, the Snow Monster’s coming!” was his favorite foreshadow.  Cal and I would have arguments over what the reindeer coach’s name was – “it’s Comet,” I’d say, and he’d tell me that it wasn’t Comet.  That was until I made sure that we synched up and paid complete attention together to the reindeer games scene and gave him a snotty “see, I told you it was Comet” when we both heard the reindeer say his name.  “My name is Comet. I’m your coach and I’m also your friend,” he announced (something like that, anyway).

Cal knows ALL of the songs from the movie.  ALL of them.  Sure, most kids can sing “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” word for word and many can hit most of the words in “Have a Holly Jolly Christmas.”  But how many kids can sing the “Elf Song” (its official name, I do not know) – “We are Santa’s elves, we make <something something – Cal knows>, we make toys for good girls and boys, we are Santa’s elves” and it goes on from there. 

After watching Rudolph so many times during our 11 stay-at-home days, three thoughts still stick in my head: 1) I love that Cal genuinely enjoys such simple things – Rudolph is about as basic and low-tech as you can get these days – and am wondering how long that’ll last, 2) why didn’t Donner make the Christmas Eve flight through the snowstorm? And 3) “Ho ho ho, ho ho ho, we are Santa’s elves! HO HO!”

The 11 Stay-at-Home Days of the Leatherman Christmas - Intro and First Day

We in the Leatherman household measure our excitement for the upcoming days by the number of consecutive stay-at-home days the kids have.  A stay-at-home day is one where at least one of us (Dan or I) doesn’t have to go to work and where the kids don’t have go to school.  The typical week has 2 stay-at-home days, known to most people as “the weekend.”  It is not uncommon for a week to have 3 stay-at-home days either because Monday is a holiday or I take a random Friday off for one reason or another.

Imagine the excited anticipation we had mid-December when I announced the number of consecutive stay-at-home days we were to have to close out the year.  An unprecedented 11!  Our prior record was 7 which we realized twice over the summer (once for our Denver vacation and another time for our early-August “staycation” where we just did local things as a family).  11 was something to talk about well in advance of actually living it starting on December 22^nd.

For me, our 11 stay-at-home days were absolutely wonderful, not without patience-testing moments but full of smiles, growth, play and genuine excitement.  I went into them looking forward to the days off but dreading the fights I was sure were ahead of me; I left them more in love with my kids than ever and believing, perhaps naively, that we’ve turned a corner with some of their behavior issues.

Originally planned for one post, my holiday recap is taking me entirely too long to put together; so I’ve adjusted my approach and plan to share 11 highlights from our 11 stay-at-home days over the course of the next 11 days.  One post per day for 11 days!  With this approach, I think the recap will be more readable and less of a time commitment for anyone reading it.  It’ll also give me some contingency when I do fail to deliver two posts a few weeks (which is surely to happen) in my quest for 100 posts for the year.

So let this post be the kick-off of the recap of the “The 11 Stay-At-Home Days of the Leatherman Christmas.”

On the first stay-at-home day of the Leatherman Christmas, we have Ella saying “Ya Ya do it self.”

I don’t know how many times I tried to put on Ella’s pants and shoes or respond to her request for water or a torn page from our Rudolph coloring book only to be met with a strong insistence that Ella do it herself.  “Ya Ya do it self,” she’d say.  With 11 stay-at-home days and no big plans to be anywhere during them, I typically obliged her stubborn insistence only to find that Ya Ya either couldn’t do it herself or would undo what she did immediately after successfully doing it.

With pants... we actually did get out of jammies and into clothes every day over the course of our 11 stay-at-home days.  More often than not, when I’d go to put Ella’s pants on her, I’d be met with “No! Ya Ya do it self.”  I don’t remember how old Cal was when he was able to put pants on by himself (backwards or forwards), but Ella just couldn’t and still can’t seem to get this one right. She’d typically put her two legs into one leg of the pants.  Or she’d get one leg fully in one pants leg and then an ankle in the other leg and then immediately remove it.  I’m not sure what her motivation for immediate removal was. She got close once, with two legs in their appropriate spots in the legs and just… not… quite… able… to pull the pants over her diaper buns.  Watching all of this is truly a test of patience.

With water... when Ella wanted water, she’d say “water, peas.”  I’d grab a cup and start heading for the fridge.  She’d be right on my heels saying, “No! Ya Ya do it self.” Hmm... both the beauty and the curse of the low water dispenser in the fridge – she CAN reach it herself but did I WANT that?  “Okay, get yourself some water,” I’d respond, knowing full well what was in store for us. She’d put the cup up to the fridge, push the lever for the water and SPLASH! water all over her and the floor.  This mess was easy enough to clean up, but Ya Ya clearly couldn’t “do water self,” yet.

With diaper... it seemed like every diaper change involved Ella’s insistence that “Ya Ya do it self” and plenty of kicking and squirming when I’d respond with “No, Ya Ya CAN’T do it self.”  Ella’s attempts at her diaper change, had I let her, would have involved her yanking the dirty one down, tabs still in tact; doing a quick, ineffective swipe of the wipe across her body; opening the new diaper but not undoing the tabs; and then laying the diaper across her front.  Now, I’m pretty anal about how the tabs attach and how neatly the diaper fits over her buns; but clearly Ella’s diaper change fell short of effective.  Ya Ya could not change diaper "self."

Facebook Posts, October, 2012

Here are my Leatherkid-related Facebook posts from October, 2012. They are unedited and should generally be assumed to start with "Carla Reiter Leatherman..."

I made a lot of posts this month, so my kids clearly gave me some good material.  Ella eating the lettuce from the head of lettuce and falling into the litter box were classic. And I enjoyed pulling out my sparkly shoes at Cal's request.  I think my favorite was the Chick Fil A post on the 20th -- Cal got me on that one!

October 1, 2012
was called a "princess" and "really pretty" this AM by Cal... It's amazing the positive impact having a supply of wearable pants per Cal's standards has on our mornings.

October 2, 2012
Cal is so sweet - he tucked Puppy (stuffed animal) in to his bed and turned "Cal Can't Help It" (Fergie) on for him before we left for school this AM... This caused some delays in getting out of the house, but how could I not let him do that?

October 3, 2012
had a "first" last night - first time kid fell into litter box... Just after her shower... Re-showered... Good times.

October 4, 2012


Ella sitting on the counter eating, yes, lettuce from the head of the lettuce.
She cracks me up!

Family picture, including Zoe, drawn by Cal.

October 4, 2012
Was just informed by Cal that he was taking the No Whining and No Yelling tasks off of his Rewards Chart because "he's in charge." I have two issues with this...

October 9, 2012
To say that Ella is unskilled at using her utensils is an understatement. I don't think this picture does it justice -- her face and hands were caked in spaghetti sauce shortly after we started eating dinner tonight.



October 9, 2012
Cal's teacher sent us this picture of him today -- apparently, he wrapped himself up like this all by himself at naptime today.




October 13, 2012
Cal this AM: "I want to wear my train shirt today... because I LOVE it."

October 13, 2012
had her sights on running the full prairie path with Ella this AM and is bummed it's raining!

October 15, 2012
had her shirt option for Ella turned down by Cal this AM. "Why not this one, it's Notre Dame?" I asked. "Because it has snaps; I don't like snaps" he replied. Ah. What's sad is I then picked a different, snapless shirt for Ella to wear today.

October 16, 2012
is wearing a skirt and "sparkly" shoes today per Cal's request that I "dress like a princess." Now, who's surprised that I actually HAVE sparkly shoes?

October 16, 2012

  Another drawing by Cal - he's using multiple colors now.
And check out the shoelaces!

October 19, 2012
This is Cal's "Magic Steve" value card -- go to BW3's in Naperville on Kids' Night 5 times, get 5 punches on the card and get a prize or treat from Magic Steve. Now Magic Steve was nice enough and did a decent magic trick that Cal was too young to appreciate and Dan and I were too old not to catch the "trick," but I'm thinking this card is a little inappropriate for its purpose... at least, its purpose for us.

October 20, 2012
had this exchange with Cal as we waited in traffic to turn left into the mall earlier today:
Cal: "Hey, there's Chick Fil A!"
Me: "Yeah, it is Chick Fil A, Cal. <pause> I can smell it... do you smell it?"
Cal: "What?"
Me: "Do you smell Chick Fil A?"
Cal<implying "duh">: "I smell the FOOD at Chick Fil A." 

October 20, 2012
learned a few things as she pulled into a parking spot at the mall earlier today:
Cal: "Mom, do you know what you do at the mall?"
Me: "What do you do at the mall, Cal?"
Cal: "You get married."
Me<huh?>: "Married? Hmm... I don't know about that."
Cal: "Wait, no, you get embarrassed. And they paint your face red. And you get embarrassed."

October 22, 2012
can't win. Caught up on all of the laundry over the weekend, folded it and proudly put it away... and still had this exchange with Cal this AM:
Cal: "Mom, why don't you wash my favorite pants?!?!"
Me (gulp, wait a second!): "Dude, you mean the ones with the big hole in the knee?!?!"
Cal: "Hole in the knee?"
Me: "Yeah, they have a hole in the knee. They're clean - I just need to patch them up."
Score one for Mommy.

October 24, 2012
was trumped by Ella for her outfit selection this AM:
Me: "How about this shirt <holding up a short-sleeved fushia number>"
Ella: "Nyo."
Me: "Really? Okay, which one do you want to wear?"
Ella: "Dame."
Me: "Huh?"
Ella<pointing>: "Dame."
Me<lightbulb!>: "You want to wear your Notre Dame shirt?"
Ella<nodding>: "Yeah."

I think she would've been perfectly content going to school in her "Dame" (this year's "The Shirt") shirt and diaper as every pair of pants I ran past her as an option was met with a "Nyo." So I decided on the khaki shorts myself.

October 26, 2012
sees keg stands in Ella's future... distant future, but keg stands for sure. The kid can suck down a cup of milk in next to no time at all!

October 27, 2012
Cal took down some big kid at the birthday party today:

October 31, 2012 

Police Officer Cal and Monkey Ella, pre-Trick-or-Treating

Police Officer Cal hamming it up with his friend,

Mahima, between houses while Trick-or-Treating

 Monkey Ella really liked the treats at this house!

October 31, 2012
So we've recently been using MC Hammer's "You Can't Touch This" tune to fire up the troops for bathtime and bedtime (the tune followed by the words "... it's bathtime" or "... it's bedtime" instead of "... you can't touch this.") The kids have been doing a lot of showers lately, so when we sing our Hammer tune for bath night, Ella chimes in with "shower," like tonight:
Dan: "Neh neh neh neh, neh neh, neh neh - it's bathtime."
Ella: "Shower."
Dan: "Neh neh neh neh, neh neh, neh neh - it's bathtime."
Ella: "Shower."
So we did showertime instead.

Cal's Markers

I’m fairly certain that if I asked my mom, she’d tell me that I never had to be told not to draw on furniture or walls with my crayons, markers or paint.  I was born either with the gene that masks any desire to do that or with the one that makes me question myself (and answer correctly) upon any urge to do so.  Dan has one of those genes, too.  It is just in our blood to take care of our stuff.

With visible marks on their kid-sized table and chairs and on our couch and kitchen table, all made in Dan’s and my absence, Dan and I know that neither of our kids has either of those genes.  This saddens us and also presents some parenting and, let’s face it, coping challenges as we fumble our way through teaching our kids the boundaries with this and finding the right consequences when those boundaries are crossed.

Cal got a Crayola art set for Christmas.  A thoughtful gift just perfect for our artistic Cal, this set comes with crayons, colored pencils, markers, watercolor paint, scissors, glue and a pad of construction paper, all packaged up in a carrying case that very practically converts to a lap pad or easel.  We broke this art set out over the weekend.

Now, Cal is 4 years old.  Ella is not yet 2.  We know Cal can responsibly handle a marker as shown by his drawings on his dry-erase board.  We also know that Ella cannot responsibly handle a marker as shown by her sloppy attempts to draw supposedly on Cal’s dry-erase board.  Ella lands the markers more on her body and things around the dry-erase board than she does actually on the dry-erase board.

Having spent the better part of our holidays coloring with crayons (look for a post later this week!), Cal was really interested in using the markers and scissors to introduce some variety into his artwork.  Having spent nearly the same amount of time with Cal coloring, I knew that Ella, equally as interested in using the markers and scissors, could not be trusted even for a second with a marker. Too many times during our coloring sessions I witnessed her deliberately crayoning our kitchen table.  That on top of her aforementioned ineptitude with the dry-erase markers was a red flag as far as her use of Cal’s new markers was to go.

So I gave Cal very explicit instructions if he was to use the markers.  It went something like this:

Me: “Okay, you can use these markers, but you can ONLY draw on the paper. DON’T draw on the table.  DON’T draw on the walls.  DON’T draw on the carpet.  ONLY draw on the paper.  Do you understand?”

Cal <eyes looking at the paper on which he was to draw>: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, what did I just tell you?”

Cal: “Only draw on the paper.”

Me:  “That’s right.  Markers only on the paper, nothing else."

Doh, he might want to use his new markers on the dry-erase board!

Me: “Okay, Cal, you also can’t use these markers on your whiteboard-easel in the computer room. You can ONLY use the special markers that have “Expo” with a big “E” on them.”

Cal: <no reaction>

Me: “That’s a tough one.  Just don’t use these markers on your whiteboard.”

Hmm… What do I do about the little girl who absolutely can’t be trusted?

Me: “Okay, last thing, Cal – DO NOT LET ELLA HAVE ANY MARKERS.  IF SHE GRABS ONE, JUST LET ME KNOW RIGHT AWAY.”

Cal: <tongue sticking out of his mouth as he was already using the markers, showing no signs of paying attention to me>

Me: “Cal, did you hear me? What did I just say?”

Cal: “Don’t let Ella use the markers.”

Me: “That’s right.  If she grabs one, don’t just take it from her – call me right away. <Now turning my attention to Ella, putting a placemat under her paper in a feeble attempt to mitigate the risk of having my kitchen table altered any further> Okay, Ya Ya, NO MARKERS FOR YOU.  YOU CAN USE CRAYONS.  AND ONLY COLOR ON PAPER, NOT THE TABLE.”

Ella proceeded to scribble on the paper in front of her and then on the placemat.  I interceded a few times to reset her course of action and get her back to “coloring” on the paper.

They stayed at the kitchen table for a bit and then moved to the computer/toy room where they picked up the coloring again.  I reiterated the instructions I had already given them, adding that they were not to draw on the desk, either.  I put a lot of responsibility on Cal to actually see my instructions through.  I had zero expectation that Ella would comply.

Using the best of my poor judgment, I left the toy/computer room for a few minutes (maybe longer than “a few”) to get some cleaning and picking-up done.  With no sounds coming from the room where the kids were supposedly drawing, I thought this can’t be good and eventually made my way back to the room to check in on them.  The scene to which I returned was both frustrating and secretly entertaining.  The scene to which I returned was Cal coloring a willing Ella’s cheek with his new black marker.  Standing in front of him and leaning toward him with a big grin on her face, she already had a big black rectangle colored on the outside of her bicep.  Clearly I had been gone too long.

I don’t remember how the exchange with the two of them went.  I’m sure it involved some scolding and various forms of “didn’t I tell you not do to this?!  What are you thinking?!”  All I remember is snatching Ella from the room and hauling her upstairs for marker removal, which surprisingly went much better than I had expected.

The kids then got distracted by other toys and role playing.  This kept them away from the markers for a bit of time, but then they got back to drawing.  I had the same exchange with them as I did earlier where the general theme was that they were to ONLY draw on paper and that Ella was NOT to touch the markers.  Cal stayed at it, coloring in the computer/toy room, for awhile; Ella took up something else entirely.

I was in and out of the computer/toy room as he colored.  At one point, I returned to do some things on our new laptop.  When I did so, Cal was contently coloring at the kids’ table.  How sweet.  I sat down at the computer desk, and as my hands approached the keyboard, I was utterly shocked at what I saw in front of me.  It was awful.  It was unexplainable.  It took my breath away.  Our new laptop had orange marks all over it.  There was an orange square pretty well drawn on the bottom right side of the laptop keyboard.  I looked just above it and saw that the SHIFT, ENTER and up/down/left/right arrows were colored orange.  And then on the laptop’s mouse pad I read the words in order of appearance “ELLA LOVE CAL MOMMY DADDY,” also in orange.

Our new laptop had been marked up pretty well by our poor decision maker, Cal.  Clearly he didn’t ask himself if he should be coloring the laptop.  Or if he did, clearly he answered his question of himself incorrectly.

I immediately ran to get a wipe to remove the orange markings and returned with the whole pack.  I started with the orange square and, to my surprise, it wiped off pretty cleanly.  I moved to the mouse pad, and it, too, cleaned up pretty well, as did the various keys with orange on them.

The markers were labeled “washable,” which, thankfully, means that any markings made by the kiddos can be washed and wiped away as if they were never made.  Nice… I hope Cal doesn’t figure that out I thought to myself.

A consequence of Cal’s drawing on our laptop was that we took the markers away for 45 minutes or so.  Simply, we told him that he needed a break from them, which he didn’t take too well and insisted repeatedly during those 45 minutes that we give them back.  We did not.  Perhaps the more effective consequence was that Cal had witnessed my reaction to the evidence of his markering of our laptop.  It was dramatic, it involved some yelling and fiery eyes and it was certainly more expressive than I usually am.  Most of this was sincere and out of my control; however, some of it was deliberate.  I wanted Cal to be a little scared and very uncomfortable.  He was.

In the end, Dan and I concluded that we need to find an out-of-reach location for our laptop (and other at-risk important stuff).  No more just leaving it out on the desk.  We haven’t done anything about this just yet; but before any markers come out again, we will.