Mother Nature must be pissed. . .

So, this past weekend was not exactly what I was envisioning for my two days off that I get a week. When I heard they were predicting winter weather (4-7 inches of snow) I thought to myself, well that's nice, it'll be a good time to get things done around the house. We are remodeling the basement and have organization to do down there, cleaning, cooking, etc, etc. I envisioned myself cozily cuddled on the couch, watching a movie with Brady, sipping hot chocolate after going out and playing in the snow.

Boy, was I wrong.

When the 7 inches they were predicting through Saturday night had fallen by 7 pm Friday, I figured they had miscalculated. When Brady and I were watching the snow fall out the window and I saw the sky lighting up green I figured either the little green men were invading or the transformers were blowing. When the power officially went out at 10:30 pm with a foot of snow on the ground, I knew we were in for it.

After the house got down to the mid 50s Friday night, we went into survival mode. Luckily, my hoarder husband had an alternative fuel source that we fired up inside the house (air pollution be damned).

Saturday morning I went out and shoveled the 18 inches of snow that had fallen by then to expend nervous energy. I was determined to be optimistic. We live in a highly populated area and our power lines are UNDERGROUND for Pete's sake. Talking to my neighbor dimmed my enthusiasm a bit, as his dour prediction was that it would be an extended period of time before the power came back. I figured we would just wait and see.

When the power goes out, there is nothing left to do but socialize. We do that pretty well as a neighborhood anyway, but when there is nothing to look at but the dark, people start pouring out of their houses. I have said it before and I'll say it again, we have the best neighbors in the world. . neighbors that give unseen and intangible value to our house that cannot be measured. We had one neighbor who fired up the snow blower and cleared our sidewalk and part of our driveway. We had another neighbor who ventured out before the streets were even touched to help get supplies. Our neighbors across the street who hooked up a generator asked, multiple times, if we needed to stay with them.

Sunday we were still without power and decided to venture out to Mike's parents to shower, do laundry, warm up and live in the 21st century for a bit. I did not doubt for one minute that the power would be on when we got home (we had been out for over 36 hours by that point). Again. . .wrong. The roads were also still horrible. . .passable, but snow packed. Mike compared it to driving on the Alaska tundra. Not exactly what you want to be experiencing when you have precious cargo strapped into a car seat in the backseat.

However, through it all, Brady was miraculously unaffected by any of it. He had a fantastic weekend in fact. . . which goes to show that at the end of the day, all they need at this age is us.

We were awakened at 1:30 on Sunday morning by lights and beeping as the power finally came back on. But now, once again, I am in my house watching the snow fall outside. Part of me is very concerned that we are in for round 2, but then again I know if we are, there is nothing I can do to stop it anyway.

After all, I'm finding out, when the going gets tough, the tough start shoveling. . .

Things you never thought you would say. . .

(Note: I envision this being a multi-part series).

Don't lick the dog. Yucky.
Those cookies are for puppies, not for Bradys.
How would you like it if the doggie drank your water?
Poopy needs to go in the potty.
Where are your pants supposed to go? Not there, silly!
No, we can't wear your monkey jacket today. The monkeys are sleeping and we don't want to wake them up.

December Rush

Now that the holidays are over I feel like I can finally sit down and take a minute to breathe. They went exceptionally well this year. We got to visit with friends and family, we got to take some (much needed) time off work and most importantly, got to spend a lot of time with Brady.

He still doesn't quite grasp what all the hoopla is about, and doesn't yet understand Santa, but was enthralled with the Christmas tree and the ornaments. The few train ornaments we have he immediately dubbed "Tommy" and he loved the presents, which he calls "Happy Birthdays". By the time Christmas morning rolled around, he was saying Merry Christmas and was more than ready to rip into the "happy birthdays" that had been under the tree.

Speaking of those, I will remember 2009 as the year of the obnoxious noise-making toys. It seems like everything he got this year sings some little ditty which Brady delights in playing over and over.

Day after Christmas saw a few days worth of visits from my mom and dad, who, thankfully, brought toys that are both 1) self powered and 2) non-noise making. It was a great visit and Brady provided constant entertainment to my parents. Apparently the feeling was mutual as Brady has been asking where they are ever since they left.

New Year's Eve was uneventful and to be honest, I was in bed before midnight and don't regret the extra hours of sleep for one minute. The New Year itself started off a bit rocky as Brady woke up in a snit and was completely miserable for about and hour and a half before he snapped out of it. I never cease to marvel how a child can seem to almost get too much sleep, while I can't seem to ever get enough.

Tonight brings the end of our respective vacations, and with that our "normal" routines resume tomorrow. Back to work and daycare we go with New Year's resolutions, or lack thereof, hanging out there. . . hopefully 2010 will bring many good things.

My New Year's resolution involves running the Pittsburgh Half Marathon, which happens the first weekend in May. 13.1 miles is a LONG way to run for a girl who hates to run. However, I will be running it with some friends and my goal is merely to just finish. . .and maybe not to die in the attempt. :-)

The Internet is Evil. . .

Over the Thanksgiving holiday, Brady ran a fairly high temp (102) from Friday afternoon to Sunday morning. With the two sleepless nights thrown in there for good measure, I had plenty of time to search his symptoms on the internet.

Saturday morning (post sleepless night #1) I called the doctor's office and described his symptoms. Their glib diagnosis - over the phone I might add - it's just a virus and it has to run it's course. Well that's just frickin' great. . . I was tempted to suggest how about they come over and stay up with him while it "runs it's course?".

So I decide to take matters into my own hands and I start searching on the internet for what it might be. I really should have known better. In the matter of an hour I had managed to convince myself that it was some rare and debilitating disease, despite the fact that the fever was responding quite nicely to Tylenol/Motrin and for the most part, he was acting normally even if he was a bit grumpy.

It's a miracle my husband didn't divorce me.

So lesson learned. Next time he's sick and the dr's office tells me that I just have to ride it out, the best course of action for me is to close the laptop and walk away. . .walk far far away.

Conversations with Brady and Thomas (the train)

Note: In this, Brady is running dialogue between his toy police car (which he calls FireCar), Thomas the Train, and Sally (from the movie Cars).

FireCar (as he is driving dangerously close to the edge of the table): Here I go.. .
(as he falls off the edge of the table onto Brady's lap) Oh no!! Help me Thomas!!

Thomas (helpfully somehow lifting FireCar back onto the table): Here you go.

FireCar: Thanks Thomas

Thomas: No problem.

Sally: Thanks Thomas

Thomas: Bye Bye

(Sally and FireCar kiss).

End scene.

The sweetness. . . .

Today I did what cooks will inevitably do at some point in time. I burned myself. This isn't the first time it's happened (and most likely won't be the last) but this does win the prize for being the dumbest. I was making dirty rice and in trying to follow child safety regulations, had all the handles turned towards the back of the stove. When I picked up the sauce pan, I neglected to note that it had been subjected to the heat of the other burner that was on at the time. So needless to say I had the handle impression burned into the palm of my hand. The burn isn't bad by any stretch of the imagination, but it did sting a bit.

So after I had invented other curse words to say that would not come back to haunt me by way of a 2 year old child, I went to sit down on the couch while Mike got some ice for my hand. The ice packs that I got were in the form of Lightining McQueen and Nemo. Brady saw these ice packs and came running over, but Mike told him that they were for me because Mommy had an owie. Brady become very concerned at this point, wanted to see my "owie" and then asked, "I kiss you" at which point he proceeded to kiss my hand. Afterwards he took it upon himself to hold the ice pack against my palm and asked repeatedly, "Mommy ok?". Of course, I assured him that I was. . .

He got the memo. . .

Over the past few weeks, Brady has become the quintessential 2 year old. This was to be expected, but as we had enjoyed a peaceful few months I was hoping that we would somehow skip the whole 2 year old experience and sail along as I would smugly watch all the other 2 year olds throwing tantrums around me.

So much for that.

Now for the most part he is still a pleasant happy child. But he has discovered his stubborn streak (again no idea where that came from) and when he digs his heels in he is firmly stuck.

Example of a typical morning at our house as of late:

Mommy: "Do you want to wear your Elmo shirt?"
Brady: "NO!"
Mommy: "Do you want to wear your bike shirt?"
Brady: "NO! No, Elmo Shirt".

As I am pulling it over his head. . .
Brady: "No, No No Mommy, bicycle shirt. No pants, no pants, no pants!!" (Accompanied by some theatrical screaming).

Getting out the door:
Mommy: "Ok, time to go take a ride in Mommy's car"
Brady: "NO ride in mommy's car" (Stubbornly refusing to move, which means I have to carry him, a computer bag, a purse and whatever supplies he will need in daycare that day).
On the way to the car (me carrying him):
Brady (occasionally kicking, screaming, and thrashing): "NO NO NO NO I walk I walk I walk!"
When I put him down:
"NO. . .Mommy carry Mommy carry"

My mantra these days. . .

Pick your battles, pick your battles, pick your battles. . . .