I have a bone to pick with our honorary state bird

All the happy pictures on this blog may make it seem like it’s all sunshine and roses around here, but that’s not quite accurate. Wow, what a challenging afternoon. I got home, cleaned up the house and got everything ready for our first Early Childhood class of the school year. We’re doing Wednesdays from 4-6, and I wanted to make sure the boys ate a good snack, since we’d be home late. As a treat, I made happyface plates with beans for the mouth, crackers for the nose, and cheese wedges and cherry tomatoes for the eyes, and banana-carrot hair. At 3, both boys were still asleep, but I was completely ready, my keys sitting on the diaper bag. I went in to get Oliver, and when I touched his wrist, I could feel that it was bumpy and swollen. Mosquito bites, and O is allergic. There must have been a mosquito in the bedroom. His whole forearm was swollen from the bites, and I gave him some Benadryl right away to try to keep it from getting worse. It seems that with his allergy, if he gets the Benadryl immediately after the bite, he’s pretty much fine, though you can see the bite mark for weeks. If he doesn’t get it right away, he gets very swollen, very upset, and gets a slight fever and a bit of diarrhea. Unfortunately, the Benadryl also makes him groggy and cranky. So here we were, stuck with both – the effect of the Benadryl plus the symptoms of the bite. We had to get to that class, though, because you can lose your spot if you don’t show up, and after all, mosquito bites aren’t contagious. I also know from experience that Ol*ver usually does better when he can get out of the house.

I sat him up with a BooBoo Buddy ice pack for his wrist, and he ate some of his happy face snack while I got his brother. No*ah was thankfully in a jolly mood, and we got out the door on time despite my having Oli*ver on my hip almost the whole time we got ready. The swelling was a bit better by the time we left, but he was a little warm. When we got to the school, I could see a couple of other families standing outside the entrance door. When we walked up, it turned out to be locked. A couple more families showed up, and a janitor let us in, but the staff was very surprised to see all of us. It seems that the confirmation letter has the wrong date, though he brochure had the correct date. We got to see the classroom, but the boys were so disappointed, especially N. He cried quietly all the way back to the car.

I took the boys to the park down the street from there, and all was well for about 10 minutes, but then a very cranky Oli*ver started picking fights with his brother, pushing him and yelling at him. After a time out on the bench, I swung him in the bucket swing for a while, but then it was his brother’s turn, and Oliv*er was so unhappy about giving up his swing that he threw the first bona fide tantrum I’ve ever seen him throw that’s lasted longer than a minute or so. He lay face down in the sand and cried and kicked and screamed for about 10 minutes before he calmed down enough to sit with me. It was getting late, and I noticed more mosquitoes buzzing about. I had a splitting headache.

It was clearly time to go home, and I went to go get No*ah with Oli*ver on my hip. No*ah was at the top of the climbing structure, and picked that moment to refuse to come down. Ol*ver was loathe to be put down, and I wasn’t about to get him going again, so I had to climb up there and go down the slide with both boys on my lap. At the bottom, neither boy would cooperate and walk with me–which has literally never happened before–and I, thankful for my backpack-style diaper bag and fairly strong arms, walked about half a block to the car with a screaming, thrashing boy under each arm.

No*ah was singing along to the music within a minute or two after the car started, but Ol*ver cried most of the way home. When we were about a mile away, he stopped. I noticed a smell coming from the back, and when we got home, I found that he’d pooped all over himself and the car seat. He also had another mosquito bite, this time on his leg, despite the fact that I’d sprayed him well at the park. When we got home, I got him and myself cleaned up, and both boys ran around screaming and getting into stuff while I waited on hold with the nurse line to find out just how much Benadryl I could give him. They ate a few bites of dinner, got separate baths (in case of more uncontrolled pooping), we read a story, and they went to bed. Oliv*er cried through about half of all of it. The poor, hoarse boy was asleep by 6:15. I didn’t notice the poop on my pant leg until 6:30. When we get that first hard freeze that kills all the mosquitoes, think of us. I’ll be doing a happy dance.

The thing is, I think that once we get past these stages, a kind of amnesia sets in. It’s happening to me too – I hold Aug*ust or Zo*e, and it seems so easy. I’ve already partially forgotten all those night-wakings, the mastitis, the constant exhaustion, crying and jiggling one has to endure with a new baby. I look at my nieces and my friends' babies, and I don’t think of any of that; I just remember how tiny they were, how sweet their first smiles, how it was to fall in love with them more with each stage. I suppose I’ll forget this hard stuff too – the tantrums, the defiance, the fighting, and the sickness, and remember instead the wonderful things they say, the love they have for each other, the way they’re starting to make friends. But not today. Today I’m writing this down for posterity: some days, or even just parts of days, were no box of cupcakes.

Cousin Aug*ust

The boys have another baby girl cousin. The parents are Sco*t and Emil*y, Jo*el's sister and brother-in-law. Little Aug*ust was born a week and a half ago, but I've been sick most of that time, so I haven' t been able to go and see her until today. I went over while Joel was home and the boys were napping, and it was so nice to finally meet her. She's a very pretty baby with a perfectly round head and dainty little features and the long fingers and toes that seem to run in the Sund*eth family (piano fingers?). She was kind enough to nap on me for an hour, which was a real treat. Parents and baby are all doing well - Augu*st has already gained back her birth weight and then some. I hope the boys get to meet her soon. I got permission to post a few pictures:

Big Red Barn

We're back in Minneapolis. We got back from the "Big Red Barn" (as the boys call my parents house in upstate New York) a day later than planned thanks to a canceled flight, but otherwise, we had a nice trip and time with family. We had to get up at 3:30 in the morning to make the rescheduled flight. I got sick with a stomach bug the day after we got back, and then got a chest cold, so I'm writing this in the midst of a to do list a mile long, but really all is well, just kind of chaotic and busy. I don't have pictures to post, but Emil*y and Scot*'s baby girl was born last Wednesday. Baby Aug*st and her parents are doing well. I haven't met her yet because I've been sick, but I can't wait, and if they give their permission I'll post some pictures after that. I can't wait to see what the next family gathering will be like, with four little ones around.

Our boys, though, are not so little anymore. The first thing that comes out of everyone's mouth when they see them is something like, "Wow! They're so big!". They've really had a growth spurt this summer, fitting comfortably into 4T clothing and size 9.5 and 10 shoes. Oliv*r is leaner than before, and he's getting the long limbs of a preschooler. No*ah is on the skinny side, kind of like a lanky 10 month old puppy, all limbs and big hands and feet. Every night we read stories and I still have one boy on each knee when we read, but they take up my whole lap and then some.

We're almost done with Oliv*r's room. Ste*ve put a door on it for us when we were gone. I'm a little sad about separating them, but right now we put Ol*lie to sleep in our room and move him before we go to bed, and wow, they go to sleep so much better. They slept apart just fine in New York too, so I think it's for the best.

Air travel went well despite the delays and cancellation, and the boys were very good. They had a great time at my parents' house, running all over the place and seeing all the bits of farm life. Anything involving tractors is incredibly exciting for them, though only Oli*ver actually wanted to ride on one that was moving.



We actually spied a tractor with Oliv*r's name on the side, so we pulled over, plopped him on it and took some pictures.





He took that to mean he could sit on every tractor we saw.




Both my mom and I just read Barbara Kingsolver's latest book, so we were inspired to explore some of the local fresh meat and produce that's abundantly available in upstate New York. We visited a sheep farm and an organic farm that grew all kinds of heirloom vegetables and raised chickens. I took the time to explain to the boys that some chickens get eaten. They looked kind of surprised and serious, but seemed to take it in stride. Now I can stop talking in code when meat is on the table, referring to chicken as "poultry".





I don't think that coop would meet grandpa's standards! The farmers at this farm actually sleep with their kids in a tent next to their coop so that their dog will stay near them and keep predators away.

My uncle and two cousins were visiting as well. I alway so enjoy seeing them. The two boys are kind of the antithesis of the stereotypical American teenager. They talk easily with adults and are helpful and polite, as well as just fun to be around. I'd be very proud to have teenagers like them someday. At this rate, I think the boys might also be 6 footers by then.

My brother, another 6+ foot Dutchman, was there too, and he brought a lovely woman with him for us to finally meet. It was nice for Jo*el to have someone to speak English with!





The Big Red Barn is especially fun for the boys now that they can run longer distances and really explore the land there. I think they took the longest walks of their young lives so far when we were there.

















Omie had a nice play corner and lots of books for the boys to read.




Oliv*r did get into a wee bit of trouble when he found a tub of Ke*an's toothpaste, ripped it open with his teeth, and spread it all over an antique stool and the bathroom rug. I had my back turned for all of a minute when this happened. Such is life at the moment.

Why worry about that baby gate when you can just climb the outside of the staircase instead?



P.S. I had another essay published - this time for an online magazine called Mombo. It can be found here.

those boys

(there's a chicken post below this one, also posted on 8/11/07)

The other day, during the preparation of kale, refried bean, and tomato tostadas, I remember that the boys were giggling and saying something about "wopes". We read some stories while they baked, and then we sat down to eat. All of a sudden, No*ah yelled "my wopes!" and Oli*ver yelled, "wopes!". N pulled some twist ties out of his tostada, put there (and thus baked) by one of my little stinkers when they were messing around in the kitchen drawer at prep time. Wopes.

The boys seem to love anything between two tortillas. I hate to mention this to my mother, who hates beets, but the boys love those too.

The boys really enjoy a smörgåsbord of options, and eat all kinds of things, including spicy food. Their daddy cooks them giant breakfasts of pancakes, hot cereal, and eggs dishes, and they wolf it down. They also have their picky days about some foods, like most toddler do.

What's a little fingerpaint between brothers?

Speaking of painting, I think the difference in how they paint is kind of interesting. Here are two takes on the same art project:




It's kind of the opposite of how they eat, as No*ah is quite neat, and Oliv*er, well, not. This is what our kitchen wall looks like right now. I'm about to take it all down and put it up in the garage, since we start new classes and such in September. I know a lot of moms complain about the constant craft projects and how to know what to do with them, but I have to say, I so enjoy this. We'll see how I feel by the time they're in third grade.



The boys tried a bouncy house for the first time last week, and thought they'd gone to heaven.






Oliv*er is still gaily purposing to take anything he can find apart, sometimes using his teeth, and we're doing our best to keep him occupied and safe. It was actually No*ah who broke our front window last week, so our efforts may need to be more equitably divided. I'll consider it a successful summer if we can keep both boys out of the emergency department for the length of it... Such good intentions, but so many bad ideas.






We had a borrowed bike and Burley trailer to use for a few days, which the boys greatly enjoyed.

What, don't you play the kazoo in your underwear?

update on the "ladies"

Well, with all that seriousness lately, I thought I'd give an update on our chickens.



We have eggs! Small eggs, but the real thing. The eggs will get bigger as the chickens get older.

Mea*gan* found one in the next box yesterday, and then today, we found three more, so I think maybe two or three of the girls are laying now.



Marcy has been quite agitated lately, but she's been cool as a cucumber the last couple of days, so she must be please with herself.


All the ladies are doing well and they've grown a lot.



They spend a couple of hours or so a day hanging out in our fenced backyard. So far, nobody has tried to escape. Why would they, when they have such a lovely coop?



They often hang out under the spirea bushes, taking dust baths. I've not seen a slug this year that wasn't in a chicken's mouth.




This garden bed is fallow this year, as it was used pretty heavily for four years straight, and the chickens are doing a nice job of fertilizing it. I also take their bedding and spread it there when I clean the coop, tilling it in a little. This bed should be in great shape come spring, and perhaps by then, the boys will have enough self-control not to eat everything they have access to. The care an feeding take less than an hour a week, and we've had enough compost to give them that they don't need a whole lot of feed. Taking care of chickens is quite simple and easy compared to a dog, or even a cat. The litter sure doesn't smell as bad.


Every morning, the boys go out to the co*op with Jo*el before breakfast, usually in their underwear and pajama tops. If Mea*gan hasn't let them out yet, they open the door to the coop, and the boys give any extras like leftover salad or cereal to the hens. The also throw them some scratch grain to keep them busy and happy. The boys love it, crooning sweetly to them, "Good morning, girls! Here's some scratch!" If we're out and about for a long time, No*ah says we have to go home, because the chickens are lonely.





We still plan on getting a couple more hens next summer or spring, but for now, we're very happy taking care of our four hens.