Poop monsters

Soen has entered the phase where he must make a goofy face in every photo. He gets that from me.

I'm tired of dealing with other people's poop. This morning I changed Sadie's diaper twice before we got out the door for school. Last night she actually pooped in the potty and we whooped it up and celebrated with ice cream and song. But the double number twos this morning made me think that she was just playing me for the ice cream.

Meanwhile, the boy likes to yell from the bathroom: "Will somebody check my butt?" And when you open the door, there he is, sprawled out on the floor with his butt in the air like he just don't care.

This past Saturday, however, Soen came downstairs from his nap, went straight into Wife's room and woke her up, saying that he pooped and needed her help. She said to go wash his hands and flush the toilet. He replied that the poop was not actually in the toilet, to which she said the only sensible thing you can say: "Scott! Soen needs your help!" I won't go into any of the gory details. I will say that I'm still kind of fuzzy as to how the events unfolded.

Anyway, Sadie's actually ahead of Soen in the poop department by about six months or so. But the day we can finally ditch that Diaper Genie can't come soon enough.

Wii are family.

Wii as performance art.

So the Wii continues to be a fun addition to our lives. Soen has really taken to it. We were bowling the other day and Soen, who was all hopped up on Craisins and showing off for his Uncle Devin, would throw the ball and yell, "Watch and learn, old man! Watch and learn!"

Sadie, on the other hand, likes to play the Wii because her brother does. But, being two, she doesn't totally get it. It's interesting to see what she can do and what is beyond her cognitive abilities. As you see in the video, she understands the Wii Fit board--that you have to lean in order to accomplish certain goals--even though she's not quite adept at it. But the other day we were golfing and she was totally unable to actually hit the ball. To do so requires holding down the A button while you swing the remote. Well, she can swing the remote and she can hold down the button but apparently she can't do both at the same time. Trying to get her to do so turned into somewhat of a maddening comedy routine and a rather grueling golf match. I guess for now she'll just stick with boxing.

So I got a little carried away...

I found this website where you can create your own version of the famous Shepard Fairey Obama poster and the next thing I new it was an hour later and I was seeing the world in high-contrast red, white, and blue. Anyway, here are some of the better ones.

Broken Record

The kids learning valuable life lessons.

I don't recall this phase with Soen, but lately Sadie has been repeating things over and over and over again. Her monologues, if you will, go from being annoying to really annoying to maddening to wow, that's actually kind of impressive, and finally to the point where the words cease to mean whatever it was they once meant to you and you find yourself questioning the very nature of reality.

The other day in the car it started to rain and Sadie made a rather salient point about it: "Raining, Daddy. Raining." "That's right, Sadie. It's raining." Pause. "Raining, Daddy. Raining. Raining, Soen. Raining." Pause. "Raining." And on and on and on. She would have kept going except that it finally stopped raining. Perhaps even Mother Nature had had enough. But then she started with, "No rain, Daddy. No rain..."

The other night we were all eating dinner and we heard a strange noise. For whatever reason Sadie got scared by the noise. After telling her that there was nothing to be scared of, I said, "Do I look scared?" and smiled my most winning smile (the kind where if we had been on a TV show there would have been a little starburst emanting from my teeth.) She seemed more at ease. Then, being the ass that I am, I said, "Do I look scared now?" And I made what I thought was a silly impression of a scared face. Sadie, however, failed to see the humor and started to cry. There goes the Father of the Year Award.

Anyway, Wife picked her up and walked her around the house to prove there was nothing to be scared of. Finally they opened the front door and saw Gromit sitting there, so Wife said that it must have been Gromit who made the noise. They came back into the kitchen and Sadie said, "Gromit noise, Daddy. Gromit noise."
"Oh that silly Gromit."
"Gromit noise."
Pause
"Gromit noise. Gromit noise, Daddy. Gromit noise, Soen. Gromit noise, Mommy. Gromit noise."
"Yep that's right, Sadie. Gromit noise."
Pause
"Gromit noise. Gromit noise, Mommy."
And on and on and on and on. Until finally even Soen was like, please stop saying that before we all go insane. The next morning she started in again with the Gromit noise. And the day after that. And even this morning, although, thank the gods, she only mentioned it in passing.

I vaguely remember being a little concerned that Sadie wasn't speaking as much as her brother did at her age. Someday I'll learn to stop worrying about those things.

Ah, who am I kidding?

Sadie McStubbornson

Our son the paleontologist, seeking clues as to why his sister is so stubborn.

The terrible twos have arrived with a vengeance. Our daughter, who used to be the epitome of sweetness and light, is now, well, kind of a jerk. There. I said it.

Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly. (Most of the time.) But boy, when she decides to fight you on something, you'd better come packin'.

Take last night, for example. Wife bought the family a new Wii. (Yay Wife!) We were busy setting it up and I told the kids to go upstairs and play until it was ready. About 2.3 seconds later they got into a bit of a squabble, culminating in her crumpling up one of his paintings. Screaming ensued. So, I went upstairs, sussed out the situation, and told Sadie to apologize to her brother. She refused, crossing her arms, and looking down at the floor in her stance of defiance. I sat down next to her and said, "Sadie, it's not nice to ruin Soen's paintings..." blah blah blah... "please say you're sorry to Soen."
"No!"
I told her to look at me. She closed her eyes and turned away, which has the effect of really annoying me and cracking me up at the same time.

We went back and forth a bit, with me getting more stern until finally I pulled out the trump card: "Sadie, if you want to play with the new toy, then say you're sorry to your brother."
"No!"
"Do you want to play with the new toy?"
"Yes."
"Then say you're sorry."
"No!"
"Say you're sorry to your brother. Then we can go play with the new toy."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Now, if I had been asking her to actually do something onerous, like clean her room or go to bed, I could understand her reluctance. But really? Saying you're sorry? At this point, I wouldn't have cared if she didn't mean it--after all, this really wasn't how I wanted to be spending my evening--I just wanted her to say the stupid words so we can get on with our lives. (Did I mention there was a brand new Wii waiting for me?)

Eventually she was put in time out and once the screaming finally stopped she went ahead and apologized to Soen as though the previous ten minutes hadn't happened. And we all played golf.

I fear for her teen years.

In case you're wondering, Soen trounced us. He hit a beautiful approach shot and wound up parring the hole. I bring this up because, having no concept of how you play golf, he was kind of upset that everyone else got to take so many more turns than he did. And all my talk about how he was so much better than the rest of us was wasted on him. He was like, Yeah I just want to hit the ball some more.

China, soccer, and spider-man.

So I know I already have a clip of Sadie singing Spider-man, but I wanted to post this one because I like the way Soen is chillin' in the doorway. He's been a super goofball lately. The other day he said, "Hey Daddy, you don't have a penis. You just have a china." This got a laugh from me but probably not for the reason he was expecting.

In other news, we just signed him up for soccer, which starts in a couple of weeks. We've been wanting to sign him up for some kind of organized sport for a while now. It's funny, I'll talk to another parent and they're like, well today little so-and-so has dance lessons and yesterday he went to his swim meet, and tomorrow he's taking Italian blah blah blah. And I'm like, "Oh yeah? That sounds like my son. Yesterday he was running around the house naked, calling me a butt crack and today he was running around the house naked, telling me I didn't have a penis." And I wonder why we don't get invited to more parties.

Not that I want him to have a crazy busy schedule like some kids, but I think it would be good for him to do something organized. With clothing. Anyway, it was a bit of a struggle to get him signed up for soccer. He likes soccer and he'd probably be pretty good at it. But he was scared at the thought of it. We tried looking in to other things like swimming and golf but the schedules didn't work out for us. And try as we might, he wanted nothing to do with soccer. But the other day the guy who runs Soen's after school program said, "Soccer's the coolest" and he asked everyone to hold up their hand if they were playing soccer. All these hands went up and suddenly soccer is the coolest thing ever. We'll see how it goes. If nothing else, I'm sure it will make for some more blog entries.

Sadie's first gig

She's kind of obsessed with the Spider-man theme song these days. Frankly, she's kind of obsessed with all things Spider-man. Ultimately, though, she's really just obsessed with doing everything her big brother does. And I mean everything. If he runs and jumps over the ottoman, she'll do it, too. Of course, since she's not as adept as her brother, what she usually does is like the Cliff's Notes version of whatever it was he did.

It's even funnier when she copies him even when she's not sure what he's doing. For instance, sometimes when Soen wants something he'll run up and whisper in my ear. And then sure enough, Sadie will come running up to whisper in my ear as well, although, having no idea what her brother said, she'll just make whispering noises.

And I wish I had a nickel for every time she says the phrase "Sadie, too." Whenever Soen says anything she follows it up with "Sadie, too"--again, even when she's not sure what it is he's saying. The other day Soen rattled off a rather extended tale of something he did, going into minute details the way 5-year-olds do. Sadie sat next to him in rapt attention listening to him ramble for several minutes. And when he was done, she turned to me and said confidently, "Sadie, too."

Attention Child Services...

Reason number one to buy a new vacuum: Your kids will want to play with the new toy. Soen said he wants to vacuum all the time. Who are we to argue with that?