Laws of Nature

I don't know what you want to call this; it's not really Murphy's Law, but maybe it is. When something like the following happens, I just mumble about the laws of nature...that's what I call it. For instance, all in a 24 hour span of time the other day three things happened. We'd been sleeping on a bed with no sheets for a few days, just a quilt layed over the mattress because I kept forgetting to put the clean, urine-free sheets back on the bed during the day. And then when it's late at night the last thing you want to do before you fall into bed is stand there and make the bed. Well of course the day I finally decided to do it, everything matching for once, hospital corners and all...that was the night that we were so tired that I crashed early on the couch with Sabine and Zach was too tired to check for a bed pad under Jacob. THAT was the night, the first night in a couple weeks, that Jacob wet the bed. Go figure.

But sheets aren't the only thing that get messed up around here. It was later that day that we were having some company over so I finally got around to clearing off the dining room table. It hadn't had a tablecloth on it since a couple months before when I just put it down five minutes before Jan brought over a pizza and someone spilled pizza sauce all over it. So on this night with the company, my mom helped me get the table cloth on and into place while Jamie stood there waiting to put down the tray with a half gallon of ice cream on it. As soon as we finished he dug in and don't you know the very first scoop of ice cream fell on the table just between his bowl and the tray I had in place to catch spills like that.

While my mom and Jamie were here that night, I gave Jamie the task of figuring out how to reset the clock on the VCR because it had been blank for several months and I never knew what time it was. He did reset it, only to have the power go out within a few hours and the time go blank again.

It was just that kind of day, I guess. I'm always looking for meaning in things like that. Was the Universe trying to tell me something? Just sleep in the dirty sheets, or don't put them back on to begin with? Maybe it wants me to stop eating ice cream?

Mango's eating disorder

So Mango ate my chocolate earlier in the week. First off, that bitch. No one messes with a woman and her chocolate. Secondly though, I had an interesting conversation with Beckie.

I had to call her and fess up that Mango had eaten some mildly important Playschool papers that I was going to give Beckie. Somehow that led Beckie to say, "You know I give Taz Pepcid, right?" No, I hadn't known that. And I hadn't even told her about the chocolate bar yet.

She explained the vet we both take our animals to had long ago recommended giving her dog, Taz, Pepcid. He doesn't get it every day, but I guess most days. I asked her if he recommends this for all dogs, or only some. She replied that it was specific to Taz's case because he was eating whatever crap that was laying around the house, was eating all day long, burped a lot, etc. I said, "Um, that's Mango to a T."

"Oh yeah, you've said that before, that it's like Mango has an eating disorder."

That's right she does, although my mom just called it Pica.

So I'd previously put two and two together about the missing chocolate and the throw up on the floor, but it hadn't yet occured to me about the paper that Mango has been eating all week. See, normally she'll pick off some random object if we've left the dogs home alone for too long. And usually only when we're away from the house, or if we've committed some particularly attrocious crime, according to dog mores. But every time I turned a corned this week there was some half-eaten paper laying on the ground.

I expressed my confusion (as to why all of a sudden she was doing this) aloud many times throughout the week. But not until I was on the phone with Beckie did I realize that dark chocolate is extremely acidic and by eating the paper Mango was probably trying to neutralize her stomach and alliviate the heartburn she must have been experiencing from eating Mama's sweets!

So I went to the store today to get Pepcid. I can't believe no one (Beckie nor the vet) ever mentioned that to me before, but it makes perfect sense. Mango took a dose today and I have left the house, we'll see the status when I get back.

My Sigg

Danielle called me up a couple weeks ago to ask me if I'd heard the news about the My Sigg water bottles. "What?!?!" I yelled when she told me that the company had just admitted to their water bottle containing BPA. We have five of those water bottles and I bought them over two years ago because they were widely believed to be BPA-free.

First I was in denial, then I was just really, really angry.

I've been less careful with them than I would have been with a bottle that I knew contained BPA. That's one reason I'm really angry. Another reason I'm really angry is because my children drink out of those water bottles! My BABY drank out of My Sigg from the time she was six months old. In my mind, a female BABY is the most susceptible to the damage BPA can cause one's body.

BPA is an endocrine disruptor that mimics estrogen. It affects brain development and reproduction in animals, has been linked to cancer and obesity, and it takes a very small amount to cause the changes.

Anyway, suffice it to say, I'm really upset. I don't expect most people to care about this topic, but it's brought me to tears a couple times because people who know me, know that I am a freak about health issues, and what lengths I go to avoid certain toxins.

Here's a link to the article I read.

Here's a link to the exchange program My Sigg is running where they'll take your old (pre August 2008 - which are the bottles 'infected' with the BPA) water bottles back.

And here's a link to my post two years ago when I originally purchased the Siggs.

New Stella

It seems every other year Stella is in favor of our family. The other years she's into one or another of our neighbors. She'll leave for Florida one autumn in one frame of mind only to come back here the next spring with a completely different agenda. This year when she came back north I was very indifferent to her, stayed away as much as I could because last year was the year she anonymously called the cops on us because of the smoke from a backyard fire. We traveled a lot in the first half of the summer anyway, so we just didn't see that much of Stella.

And then one day we were taking a walk, as usual, when Dorothy came hobbling out of her house to say hi. She loved visiting with us and told us so. She showed her pleasure with life and the people who are good to her. She told Jacob he's a good boy and told me what a lovely person I am, and wondered how I got to be such a nice person. Dorothy is the complete opposite of Stella. She asked that we come back often and to always knock on her door when we're going by.

Jacob was completely taken with Dorothy from the beginning and I think a lot of it probably has to do with the fact that his great-grandmother passed away just a few weeks before we met Dorothy. Meeting her probably filled a void in Jacob.

Over the next few weeks we learned a lot about Dorothy, but she learned very little about us because she'd need to ask the same questions each time we knocked on her door. For good reason though, because together we figured out her age - she couldn't remember how old she was, but told me the year she was born and I told her that will make her 94 this fall.

We've been bringing her baked treats, crafts and a photograph of us with our names on the back so she can remember who we are. In turn, Dorothy has told us a lot of her history and about her two sons - one 'bad', one 'good'. She can't remember her late husband's name but knows he fought in WWII and that he was never the same after that.

She has her favorite neighbors, like the ones who take her to church every week, and her not-so-favorites, like the one who has the crazy wife. Dorothy loves to show off a picture of herself and say how pretty she used to be, you know, back when she had teeth, she jokes. She has a very good sense of humor. Today I said we couldn't come in because I had to go home and make lunch. "You've gotta go get drunk?" she asked. I laughed as I corrected her and she smirked back at me.

It's almost as if Stella has sensed the shifting dynamic in the air because she's been by more often the last couple weeks than most of the summer. More than likely though, it's probably because the back neighbors have pissed her off again. She actually called the cops on them the other day because the daughter's boyfriend kept driving his diesel truck up and down the driveway. So now we're the good guys again. She sits and chats like old times and brings over a plate of whatever she cooked that day. It's nice to have the company, and I'm starting to warm to her again. Sabine points across the yard in recognition now when she sees Stella.

I hope our old lady friends are around when Sabine is a bit older so that she will have nice memories of them like Jacob does. And I hope when I'm that age I have a little family to come visit me.

Where's my chocolate?

I had this awesome chocolate bar I got from the co-op the other day. It was like $4, the kind you eat a tiny bit of each day over the course of the whole week. I accidentally left it next to the computer the other night when I was shutting it down so I could go to bed. The next morning I was looking for it so I could put it away but I couldn't find it.

Over the course of this week I've been searching everywhere, as well as asking Zach if he's seen it. Today I finally said to him that I couldn't find it and where could it possibly be? He told me one of the dogs probably ate it. I said no way, that they would be dead, or at the very least there would have been some trace of it, a bit of wrapper, or chocolate smudge somewhere. Zach then informed me that Mango had puked in the middle of the night and he had cleaned it up on Tuesday morning. He said it was brown and had foil in it.

There's my chocolate. This was had 85% cocoa content because why have chocolate if you're not going to have CHOCOLATE?

Mango's been acting berserk all week, eating papers mostly every time I leeave the house, even just the room sometimes. Anyway, isn't that much chocolate supposed to be really bad for dogs? How come Mango is still alive? She's indestructible.

The Harvest

The other day we harvested seven different vegetables from the garden all at once (and a marigold). That was also the day that we got our first eggplant! So in the tradition of taking a picture of the first of each crop we've got going, Jacob posed with the day's bountiful harvest. Look at all the pretty colors!

There's cucumber, a green tomato (because that's all we're getting of those), red pepper, green pepper, corn, eggplant, and Boston lettuce. We've also got zucchini and summer squash, pumpkin, carrots, swiss chard, some other lettuces, and we had green beans. This gardening thing rocks.

I was just taking a close-up of all the veggies but Jacob couldn't resist squeezing his little head into the picture!

Where's Beanie??

Dear Sabine: Months 13 & 14

Dear Sabine,

It seems like just last week that I was at the grocery store with you as a tiny newborn, all the little old ladies oogling over you. You were a mere week old and I was so proud to be going to the store with you all by myself, much less walking. How did over a year go by already? How can one little person grow so much in such a short span of time? In 14 rapidly passing months you've blossomed into this little person. You totally understand everything we say to you, and you love going to do the things we ask you to do; throw something in the garbage, go get the phone, where'd you put your socks?
As I sit down to finally finish writing this post, you're already almost 15 months old, so don't expect me to have another one for quite a while. I wish I could keep to the once-a-month post, but with two of you kids now, it's been impossible. The most encompassing remark I can make about you to this date is that you are so funny and quirky. You're really fitting into our family quite well. I'd feel sorry for any baby who came to live in this house and was not well-equipped with a sense of humor.
We have family rumbles at any given moment of the day. One of us will start it, give a certain look, make a certain noise and everyone else is like, game on. No one can resist it. Then the jumping onto one another begins, the tickling, play wrestling, and the hiding and racing around the house. You really mess Jacob up when you play with him. You splash him in the bath, lunge at him when you're in a funny mood, and lately you've been taking to biting people! Bath time is always a favorite, you and Jacob both feed off of each other so much. When it's just one of you in the bath, as it sometimes is, things tend to get a little boring.
But you're really lucky to have ended up with Jacob as a big brother. He really is great with you. He loves you so much, and I think you idolize him in your baby way. If you fall and get hurt, and Jacob's the closest person to you, he'll scoop you up and you cling to him, both of you patting one anothers' backs. You both request hugs and kisses from each other at random times during the day. You are a good kisser. You'll walk up to a loved on, lean in close to them waiting for a response and then you give a perfect baby kiss. Sometimes you're in a particularly loving mood and you'll go around the room kissing everyone there repeatedly. It's so rewarding to one of those people!
You've got clear likes about things, but it's harder to pin down things you don't like. You love music, breaking into dance when you hear just a few notes. In the car I'm usually able to calm you down with some kind of music if you're getting fussy. You like putting funny things on your body, and hiding in tiny places. You'll call us into the room to show off an accomplishment. And you love your belly button. I've probably written about that before, but you do love it. You poke your little finger in it, and if someone in another room happens to say the word 'belly' in a sentence, you start struggling to get to your belly button so you can make sure it's still there. If you're wearing a onesie and can't find your belly, then that is a problem which we must fix for you.

And Sabine, you are quite obsessed with shoes. Particularly Crocs. I don't know why, I think they're hideous. I first noticed it when I was in the mall looking for a new pair of shoes to go with a dress for the wedding in Virginia. This was before you were a year old. I was holding you and walked past the shoe section and you almost jumped out of my arms tyring to get to the shoe racks. You pointed out all the shoes you liked and I handed them to you so you could just stare at them in wonder. From that point on it was a full-blown obsession. You a hold of someone's shoes, and it's hard to get them back when it's time to leave. You really like wearing your shoes. One of the first commands you started understanding was, "Sit down so I can put your shoes on." I really should write more about your shoes obsession because it is something that clearly consumes a lot of your brain energy, but I'll just leave it at that.
Some cute tricks you've developed include clicking your tongue and little grunting noises you make, like fake madness when we're playing around and rough-housing. You do a couple cute tricks with your mouth, one being the tongue flapping thing where it makes a sound like "blahlalablahlalalala" - oh dear, I have no better way to describe it! You also do the thing with you mouth open making the 'ahhh' sound so that when someone pats you on the mouth it mimics what people associate with Indians. Jacob taught you that one, I think. You give high fives too. And you have a humorous little scowl you give people before breaking into a smile.

You were starting to say a lot of words in the early part of the summer, but that pretty much stopped at that point and you took up the more physical aspect of your development. You now pretty much say "Mom" or "Mama" or something variation of that) for everything because you know, if I'm not standing right before you in plain sight then what is life worth living? You do follow me around endlessly. It's like all your words are now going to evolve from some version of Mama. There's different versions of it, and as the days pass we can see they're becoming more distinct, but it's so hard to tell. One day we'll think a word means one thing, and then the next day we'll decide, no, she's just looking for me again, checking up on what I'm doing. Maomoa kind of seems like 'more'. maimai, kind of sounds like 'mine' - I realize these are very bad phonetics here. It's like you're learning about everything in the world in terms of how it applies to the place you came from (me). Oh, and speaking of that, you have five teeth now, and you're finally able to eat some normal table food.

And speaking of eating, you ate hot dried hot peppers a few weeks ago. There'a little container of them in with the spices and no matter how many times I tell you not to eat stuff like that, you don't want to listen, because you know, you're a baby. So one day I was making dinner in the kitchen and you started gagging right behind me. I turned around and was immediately frightened because your face was beat red. It took me just half a second to see (from the amount of them on your face and around your feet) that it wasn't because you were choking, but because you put a handful of the peppers in your mouth and they were HOT! That'll teach you to keep putting inappropriate things in your mouth. In the picture below, that's dirt on your face because you were eating it.
A lot of people say that their kids are complete opposites of one another, but I have to say that overwhelmingly you are just like Jacob. There's some differences, but as a whole, you're the same kid of kid - sweet and loving, funny and quirky, smart and responsible, but also with a streak of trouble-maker and boundless energy.

At times your curiosity gets the best of you. Experimenting with gravity is a favorite pastime. For instance, there was the time last month you took a couple glass bottles from the shopping cart at the grocery store while I was putting the empties into the return machine and you smashed them onto the floor, breaking both bottles. That was embarrassing.
You do like to clean up though, and I can see the developing sense of order in your little baby brain by the way you like to have things arranged. Already you're helping with the laundry, taking it from the basket of dirty things and putting it into the washing machine. And approximately 45 minutes later you accompany me back downstairs to take them from the washer to the dryer. You know the drill and you like helping out. It's the same story with the dishwasher. We've been doing an assembly line lately: You pull things out of the dish washer and hand them to Jacob. He stacks them into the right piles and then hands me the stack to put in the cupboard.
One day I'd had two DVD's by the front door, waiting to be returned to the library. At one point in the day I'd noticed you messing around in the spot where we keep our own DVD's next to the TV. Later on when I saw that the videos on the shelf were messed up I went to straighten them out but couldn't get them all the fit back in the way they'de been. I finally realized there were two extra movies there - the ones from the library. You'd found them and traveled halfway around the house to put them back in order!
Not only do you like things in order, but apparently you like them clean as well because I'll often find you digging into the wipes container or kleenex box to retrieve one and then set to work rubbing the floor or some other surface you've seen me cleaning in the past.
For all the good you do around the house though, you certainly like to cause a ruckus from time to time. Most instances of damage are from the aforementioned 'Gravity Game', as I call it, but a lot of the heart-stopping moments don't necessarily results in permanent structural alteration to the house, they just really alarm us. The thing is, just like your brother, you are a climber. You've been doing it for many, many months. Even months before you were walking, you were already scaring us with your climbing. It's hard to keep track of children like you, the ones who are so tiny and quiet in their stealth-like way. It's a good thing we never bothered with a crib, because that wouldn't have kept you down. You like to climb the baby gates, the couch, the back of the couch, the cupboards, stairs, and you're proficient at going back down them as well.
But most of all, it's utterly thrilling to see the way that you care about the people around you, and the animals in your life. You've started sitting on a ball to bounce just like that way we do with you on the yoga ball, showing us that the things we do out of love have value to you. And last month I watched you climb into the little bed, grab Baby Honey and start to sway and pat her back, mimicking what we do with you. It was then that I realized the emerging person I thought you were becoming already has a rightful place in the world with your own sense of right and wrong, and that your father and I are on the right track in raising loving children who will be the future good people of the world. That knowledge alone is worth is all the trouble this parenting business have ever given us.