A few parenting miscalculations

I settled any car seat rebellion by telling my kids that it's the police, and not me, who insist on all the strapping in. It worked, but I fear I may have instilled in them an overblown sense of the police department's sphere of influence.

 

ME: Oliver, don't climb the cupboards.

OLIVER (using the kitchen drawers as steps): Why?

ME: Because they are going to break.

OLIVER: And then the police will have to come and fix them?

ME: No, a carpenter will have to come and fix them.  And carpenters are expensive.

OLIVER (weighing the legality issues): And then the police will be mad?

ME: Yep.  Really mad.

Also, I may have miscalculated trying to sell flossing as "fun."  Passing off weeding and putting toys away as competitions, however, has totally paid off.

A thing I like

via What Would Jane Austen Do? via Decorno

Happy Birthday My Darlings

Dear Magnolia & Oliver,

Today you are three. No longer babies but real, honest-to-God kids. I remember so clearly gazing at your amazing faces when you were these tiny, larval newborns and saying "You're so wonderful.  You're so wonderful."  And you would look back at me and try to focus. And if your eyes managed to rest on mine, I would think you were geniuses. But, believe me, your baby selves can't hold a candle to what you have become.  

You are both so loving and funny and smart and affectionate and curious and brave.   You know the word "celebrating."  You can say "That's a huge spider" in Spanish. When I am having a hard time, you rub my back instinctively.  You dance on your tippy toes and like Motown and eat uncooked spaghetti. There is not a bug you are unwilling to pick up. 

I am just in awe. In my eyes, the air around you veritably sparkles. Happy birthday.  I love you so much. 

xoxox Mom

 

The best chicken names ever

Ginger Rogers would be so proud

And here they are, my little brood, who, incidentally, are going through an awkward adolescent phase.  Note the tiny beginnings of combs above their beaks and the little whisker-like tail feathers coming in.  It's like eighth grade all over again.  But like my mom always told me: it will all get better once high school starts. Or, her back-up: There's a lid for every pot.

Without further ado:

Tilly

Lucille

Coco Van (Coco for short)

Ginger

Thank you everyone for fantastic name ideas and especially to Susan for Coco Van and to my old high school classmate Megan, who was the first, but not the last, to send the name Ginger.  Well played, ladies.

A thing I like

Paper Heart, which looks so charming I sort of wish I could just nap until it comes out.  I heart Michael Cera. And I heart that he falls for this grumpy, glamour-less girl.  A girl who I also heart.  Ah, youth.