Archive for the 'Photos' Category

Birthday Party #1

Eirinn and Lucy had their joint birthday party yesterday.  This was Day 1 of Eirinn Is Two celebrations.  I think it was Day Seventy Hundred for Lucy.  She’s an old veteran at the “this party is all about me (me, me, me) so just get your grubby hands off that cupcake already because I’m the birthday week month girl and I GO FIRST” deal.  Eirinn was the rookie, but she soon caught on.  Anything that involves a) cupcakes, and b) being selfish, sounds like an ok gig to her.

They went to a local indoor baby playground (totally awesome, by the way, and I would totally recommend moving near one as your sole reason to relocate) and invited a handful of their mommies’ own closest friends.  Pay no attention to Eirinn in the corner eyeballing me because, besides Lucy, she had never met any of these kids.  They were her closest friends, I swear.

The first half was spent with Eirinn being, by far, the craziest ADHD lunatic in the joint – running at full-tilt, yelling, jumping on anything that would allow her to bounce and anything that didn’t because JUMPING IS AWESOME, stealing Pooh Bear balls from unsuspecting younger boys, yelling, hanging with the older crowd, making a pact with one new friend to break at least one limb each, JUMPING, yelling, and making friends with everyone because she didn’t know the kids invited to the party anyway.  Needless to say, she had fun. 

The second half was in the separate room where Lucy’s mom Carly and I brought lunch and cupcakes to rudely interrupt the crazy feed the party-goers.  We stuffed their faces with sandwiches and fruit and veggies and sugar, spanked them all soundly and sent them to bed.  But not until the three two-year old girls engaged in a 1-2-3-GO! race to burn off the calories.  This ended in a massive head wound bumped head and one upset little Lucy.

Eirinn was a perfectly charming little angel, laughing and talking up a storm and being her usual social butterfly.  She only threw one teensy minor tantrum when it was time to go home.  In her defense, throwing tantrums when it’s time to leave is totally the cool thing to do.  Everyone was doing it. 

Now, enjoy the slideshow:

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Yes, this blur of a flying little person is Eirinn.  This is what she looked like most of the morning.  And this was before the sugar.

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This velcro wall was fun.  It was almost like a puzzle, only not so bossy.

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There was a whole collection of vehicles the tots could cruise the room in.

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More craziness.  Trust me, this is just about as good as the camera could get.  You should have seen Anonymous Husband and I frantically trying to figure out how the camera could capture even faster motion.  She was certainly testing the limits of technology.

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Synchronized candle-extinguishing.

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“What just one cotton-picking minute.  Hers has way more icing than mine.”

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And the day ended as it began.  With running and crazy and yelling.  So.  Much.  Fun.

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Just a touch of cute to get you through the weekend

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Usually she is a big girl with her pink bubble jacket, but sometimes when it gets really cold, she dresses in her polar bear snowsuit.  She looks so much younger and so ridiculously cute it makes me want to eat her cheeks.

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Yelling at her sippy cup.  Don’t ask me.  I’m not quite sure.

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Her new Pebbles hairdo.  Again, the cheeks look tempting.  I do know how silly she looks, but when silly meets cute so square on, it just doesn’t matter.  Plus, she loves it and calls it her Pony Hair Tail.

This was not a setup

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In her defense, no one told her not to…

Follow the leader (with my recipe)

After weeks of eating completely healthy 100% of the timemostly healthy 85% of the time, something was bound to give.  I had turned myself into a regular Betty Crocker in months previous, after all, so a stick of pure butter, several cups of sugar, and a couple of egg yolks were bound to find their own way into a bowl, mix themselves together, fload their way into the oven and bake themselves into cookies.  And wouldn’t it be rude if I didn’t eat them all after they went to so much trouble?  I think it would be terribly ungrateful of me not to eat them all.

Ok, so no magic cookies, but after reading this, I felt compelled by the power of Jesus to whip up a batch of my World’s Greatest Chocolate Chip Cookies.  By the way, how much do you have to change a recipe before you can officially call them  your own?  ‘Cause I’ve done quite a bit of tweaking to this recipe and I feel rightful in calling them “my” cookies.  Especially when they are so darn delicious and irresistable.  Just ask Carly’s husband.

Carly called them Devil Cookies, which I completely disagree with.  Not only are they not Devil Cookies, but I think they were sent down by a higher power, in a gift basket, with a card signed “Enjoy – G.”  I’m just saying…they are that good.  In fact, I’ll be right back…

*burp*

In an attempt to escape doing puzzles for the entire morning on Saturday, Eirinn and I decided to make these together.  It went much better than I expected.  Nothing “accidentally” broke.  “No one” had a fit.  And I think she enjoyed herself.  Mostly she watched me while asking “You need this?” of every measuring spoon, mixing utensil, and ingredient.  She helped me pour in the chocolate chips, receiving a handful of chips as a reward.

picture-357.jpg  She was an excellent chocolate chip pourer.  She didn’t spill one.  Or at least she ate up her mess before I saw it.

picture-362.jpg  Then we waited the long, torturous 15 minutes of baking time.  That heavenly smell was enough to send Eirinn into madness.

picture-363.jpg  See?  This is what she was driven to do while we waited.  Soccer in oven mitts.  Not an act of a sane person.  Is anyone else mesmerized by the Doras on her pants?  They are hypnotizing me into eating more cookies…

picture-365.jpg  And the prize for waiting?  Yummy cookies.  Well, at least yummy, melty chocolate chips.  She ate the cookie part about two hours later.

The fishy puzzle

Eirinn loves puzzles.  I’ve said it before because it’s true.  She loves puzzles. 

Puzzles have replaced television as her all-time favourite past time.  She doesn’t do those puzzles where the little wooden pieces have the same shape as the little holes on the board.  Oh, no.  She doesn’t even own one of those.  She does the big kid puzzles with the puzzle-shaped pieces that fit together like a puzzle.  Can you tell I’m not a puzzle person?  I have no idea how to describe them.

I know!  Pictures!  Pictures always help the verbally disabled.  Like myself.

She don’t do this kind:

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She do this kind:

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With great speed and accuracy.  She has a few of them.  They have either 20 or 24 pieces and, oddly enough, they are all scenes of under the sea.  Maybe that’s the universal toddler puzzle picture du jour.  I wouldn’t know, being a non-puzzler and all.

I think this is great.  The puzzles as a whole allow her to practice her hand/eye coordination and the topics of the puzzles (numbers, opposites, and the one in the picture, colours) are very educational.  She has improved her knowledge of colours exponentially.  Improved, not mastered, but it has taught her more than we could any other way.  And we’ve tried.  We started to think she was either colour blind or had a whole in her brain where her colour recognition should have been.  Turns out she’s just stubborn and wanted a puzzle to teach her, not Mommy and Daddy.

She does them non-stop.  First thing in the morning I have to dodge pieces to get her cereal to her mouth (yes, I still feed her her breakfast – geniuses shouldn’t have to feed themselves).  After work she runs to her puzzles and does them over and over again.  “Do puthle ‘gain?”  I think it’s safe to say that she lawbs her puzzles.

***

In other news, my sister got a puppy for Christmas.  Well, it started out a puppy.  A cute, little, black and white, Shih-Tese (say that in your head and I dare you not to laugh).  Sophie is a Shih-Tzu, Maltese cross which, even though we paid for a pure bred Shih Tzu, we’ve always suspected Bosco to be.

I say she “started out” a puppy because in her short three month life, she has morphed into a wee little devil-dog.  If you’re furry and small, she will eat you.  If you even remotely resemble a shoe, slipper, or sock, she will eat you.  If you are my daughter’s pants, she will eat you.  Or at least try, seeing as her teeth are still little pin pricks. 

She absolutely tortures poor Bossy.  She pulls his tail, bites his arse, hangs off his ears.  All this makes him bark, which makes Murphy bark at Bossy, which means Bossy then has an evil midget devil-dog hanging off his butt and a big ol’ meat-head yelling at him to shut up.  Poor guy can’t win for losing.  Whatever that means.

Lucky for Bosco, we got to puppy-sit Sophie this weekend.  We brought the devil into his sanctuary.  Dude was not impressed.

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And all Blue Bear had to say was “HALP!”

p.s. Notice Bosco’s incredibly long hippie bangs?  He’s getting his hair did tomorrow.

Because

Because this:

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This never happens.

 

Hi! Remember us?

Last week was fairly uneventful here in Tornado Alley.  The usual crazy, crazy, but nothing really note-worthy.  Or blog post-worthy, as the case may be.

Today we, as in all three of us, drove north (where they had snow!) to have dinner with our good friends Carly, Eric, and Loooocy.  You have to say the ‘oooo’ with great, big, duck lips to get the correct sound.  It was a long drive during which time I heard “Mommy?  We see Loooocy?” approximately 1,000 times.  And no less, would be my guess.  She never once asked Daddy because Daddy was driving, making Mommy the navigator and the navigator is the One Who Knows Where We’re Going.  I may not always know the directions to get there, but I am the leading expert on our intended destination.  I think she was just so excited to see her friend.  And to play with her toys.

Lucy and Eirinn are complete personality opposites, as has been the case since they first met when they were wee 5 month olds.  Back then, Eirinn slept as little as possible, cried as much as possible, and had to be held while not sleeping and crying.  Lucy, on the other hand, slept for hours on end and was content most of the time.  Now that they are 20 months old, Eirinn has extreme highs and lows, moments of hysteria, both good and bad, has more energy than 10 toddlers would know what to do with, and is not afraid to let the neighbourhood know how she’s feeling at any given moment (read: she’s LOUD).  Lucy, still, is on a permanent even keel.  She’s shy (which Eirinn is not), and quiet (which Eirinn most certainly is not), and she is very well behaved (which Eirinn is, but only when she feels like it). 

But these two get along like Jenny and Forrest (like peas and carrots).  They both love running.  They both like Dora, although Eirinn LOVES Dora; Lucy is a bigger Elmo fan.  They both think being naughty is hilarious.  They are too cute together.

Here Eirinn is teaching Lucy the Macarena.  They just finished the “Hey!  Macarena!” part.

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This shot is a tradition.  Nearly everytime we visit Carly and Lucy we take a picture of the girls in this chair.  It never fails that one of them is throwing a fit.  The first time Eirinn was crying because I wasn’t holding her.  The next time Eirinn was crying because Lucy stole her soother.  This time was Lucy’s turn.  I think she was just sticking it to the Man for telling her where to sit.  She’ll sit where she wants to sit, when she wants to sit there.  Power to the People.

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I hope our two girls stay friends forever.  What a great story to be able to tell.  To have a friend you’ve known almost literally your entire life?  That would be wonderful.  That way, if they’re friends forever, that means Carly and I have stayed friends forever.  And I hope for nothing less.

(ps, Carly, thanks for dinner!  It was delicioso.)