Thursday, November 29, 2012

Nectar of the God?

To encourage more apple noshing this summer (and slowly deplete the pile on my kitchen floor), I made this dip. Major hit. I actually made it to take to Sunday school, but I let the boys try it with one of their many apple snacks. Reed took one bite, then said, “Maybe this is what dinner at heaven tastes like!” Always sure to be theologically sound, he quickly added, “If we eat there.” Sunday morning, Calvin saw me loading up the dip, and ran down the hall shouting at Reed something about “that yummy, delicious DIP!” Max liked it too, but that turned out to be a problem. See, he used to eat apples. Now, he just slurps off the yumminess and then begs for more “DIH!”
Almond Dip

Cream cheese
Brown sugar
Almond extract (load it on, baby!)
Vanilla extract

Stir together, taste test, then adjust accordingly. I’m guessing I used about a cup of brown sugar for 2 packages of cream cheese. I never measure vanilla or almond extract. I’m a lush like that.

Monday, November 26, 2012

Terrible Twos Diagnosis

If your 21-month-old does the following:

- Shouts "No!" in response to a question, even when the tantrum that follows indicates that he clearly meant, "Yes."
- Whine, "Nooo," as an answer to a question, then repeat the question as a whiny command.
- Grabs your cheeks, turns your head to face his and says emphatically, "Hear me?!"
- Names all objects with possessive pronouns in front. (Mine trah-ter! My cup!)
- Insists that no one hold his baby cousin unless they also hold him--simultaneously
- Insists that his baby cousin (or any other human being) not play with toys unless they do it out of his line of vision - and earshot - and without his knowledge.
- Points in a way that can only mean, "Take me there right this instant!"
- Performs a tap-dance tantrum when he wants, "Up!"
- Says, "No! Mommy turn!" when you hand him his toothbrush, which should mean that he wants Mommy to brush his teeth, but indicate otherwise by holding his toothbrush in a vice grip and refusing to brush his own teeth. (possible translation: Mommy's turn to back off!" ?)
- Has radar for any food that you're trying to sneak-eat. Interrupts your moment of guilty pleasure with an insistent, "I try it? I try it? I try it!"
- Zeros in on one food item at each meal, usually the least healthy option.
- Refuses to eat even one bite of any dessert prerequisite, guarunteeing a tantrum when the rest of the family eats their dessert.
- Communicates in screams, even when he has a pretty decent command of the English language
- Dances for a second, then runs away when he gets busted tearing off individual squares of "twoy peeper" and flushing them down the "poh-ee" one at a time

...then he might be entering the terrible twos a few months early!

Sunday, November 25, 2012

A Unique Family Tradition

Well, it seems we’ve started a new Thanksgiving tradition. For the last two years, someone has thrown up on the ride home from Grandma and Grandpa’s. Last year  it was Reed and I who started the tradition. This year, Calvin kept it alive. When we were almost to our house, he told us his tummy hurt. This is fairly common, since all three of our boys get a little woozy on curvy roads, and there is no such thing as a straight road in our part of Missouri. Then he started crying. This is also fairly common, since all three of our boys can be slightly dramatic when they’re not happy. Then he burped. Once again, pretty common. The splash that followed was not. I had a bowl in hand (another road-trip standard--if we don’t get to the car with snacks in bowls, there will be a whine-fest), which I stealthily whipped around behind the seat and managed to keep level, though my arm was twisted in a very awkward position. He wasn’t through, but it didn’t help. He missed, sending the next round all over my hand and floorboard.  Round three made it to the bowl, though I don’t think it really mattered at this point.

Ryan pulled over and we did a makeshift clean up job before we headed for home, just five minutes away. Calvin was pretty upset with the puddle in his lap. I spoke in my calm, comforting mother voice, disguising the disgust over the smell of my hands, reassuring him that as soon as we got home we would get him all cleaned up and he could lay down and rest. “What!? But I wanna play!” was his response. We determined he must not be that sick. It must just be a bad combination of too much pumpkin pie and motion sickness.  The bath he took at home confirmed our suspicions. Homeboy tore up the bathroom, splashing like a whale for 15 minutes, all the while making his signature Calvin sound effects before I finally made him get out and get dressed.  I didn’t even try to make him lay down. Instead, I finished cleaning up the carnage. Turns out, it wasn’t too bad. See, we were driving the truck. After cross country season, the floor boards are buried in socks, papers, and the XC team’s lost-and-found collection (which, btw, I totally pilfer when they remain unclaimed). So, I just threw all the crap in the washing machine and threw away an unused package of cone cups, and that was pretty much it. I guess this year I can be thankful for Ryan’s disorganization and Ryan can be thankful that the new tradition helped him get out of cleaning the truck himself.