The Ing-ing of things.

Mozart's vocabulary is expanding.  This week he has started using -ing.  Sometimes appropriately, and sometimes not so much. 

I first noticed that he'd taken this step when he asked to watch Harry Potter (see previous post) and I said, "Not yet."*  And, ever so cute like, he said, "I wait-ing."  That was the first time I heard him say it, so it was especially cute, and it still is.  "Mommy, home? No. I wait-ing"   The Wife worked late quite a lot this week and so that was common. "Down, Mama, walk-ing."  Another common phrase these days, what with his independent self springing forth.  And then there was this morning when I gave him a box of raisins.  He's trying to get them out and says, "Raisins stuck.  Raisins stuck-ing."  It was so cute, I didn't have the heart to correct him.

*You may read my intentions of giving this answer correctly when you presume that I will not  be letting him watch this for a VERY long time, and he'll be getting that answer from me until he is at least 10 or 11 - though the wife, I'm sure will want to subject him earlier. 

Direct consequences.

Over this spate of winter weather, I must admit we watched more videos with Mozart than we should have.  Some happy/cute consequences, but also disturbing consequences, such as Mozart  yelling out repeatedly, and albeit cutely, "Daaaaaaaad." in a mimicking of Nemo (had to watch in honor of the storm).  The Wife would now like to trash that particular DVD.  We know we'll have to deal with the Dad question at some point, but we'd rather not start just yet.  Because we got into having more screen time than usual, Mozart also began to beg/demand having more.  This is very unflattering.  And then there is the sleep/night terror issue.

Mozart woke up last night just as we were going to sleep.  But he didn't just wake up.  He was up and terrified and inconsolable.  He wanted Mama.  Then I came and he wanted Mommy.  Really, he wanted us both to enclose him in a group hug for the rest of the night.  He kept saying "kerry" (scary), but he wouldn't say what had scared him*.  Then he kept talking about trains, which he has found scary in the past, but I wasn't convinced that was it.  Then I asked him if he hurt and he said no.  Wanting to be sure I asked him if his belly hurt. No. If his head hurt. No. If his ears hurt. No. If anything hurt. "Finger. Nail. Cut."  So I cut his fingernails.  Not because I really believed that they hurt, but as a way, hopefully, to distract him from whatever was hurting or scaring him.   I did not bring him "Stairs." (downstairs) to, "Watch. Trains." or for "Gogurt. Befast." per his request.  I raised the shades and showed him that it was nighttime, not breakfast time, and we sat and cuddled and talked for a little bit.   Then Mommy took over and she started the whole bedtime routine over again, initially amidst adamant screaming to the contrary, and finally got him to go to sleep. 

On her return to the bedroom, I informed the Wife that perhaps viewing Harry Potter was not the best choice for our 22 month old (!?!), to which she said, "Oh, nonsense."  I reminded her that while he is very cute when he holds up the DVD and says, "Howie." in a request, and he gets quite excited about the train and all of the flying about, that a maddened troll and a snarling three-headed dog (*he likely doesn't know the words for trolls or three-headed dogs), were sure to be a bad idea.  I place the responsibility of last night's disruption squarely on her shoulders, TVM, (and a little bit on mine for not putting it to a stop at the first request).

We will now be cutting back screen time.  He has already asked to watch Mouse, Trains, and Howie.  We have distracted by playing chase, giving raisins (another pint-size addiction), and generally running amok, but without the t.v. or other videos on.

Good Morning Nemo...

So when I told Mozart that Nemo was coming, he had a hard time believing me.  Even when I explained that in this case, Nemo is a bunch of snow, he still did not believe me.  And I have to say, that I was doubtful at that point myself - the forecast said we'd start to see action at 3am and this photo was taken around noon.

But, oh, by the afternoon it was coming down at a regular clip, and by morning, we were looking at a different view from the window!   
But that doesn't do the scene justice. This will give you a better idea: 
Yes, friends, that is our driveway.  With our two cars that we have since dug out.  It's nice you can see the cars from this view.  In the digging out process, I found that the other side of the cars were completely covered.   Note that Mozart is looking very small in relation. That photo is about an hour into our shoveling.  We are blessed to have some anonymous snow blower-wielding neighbor who went down our front walk.  By the time we dug our way to the walk, we were even more grateful.  Mozart was all rosie-cheeked, as were we, when we got to the walk, but there was still a LOT to do.  Even so, with nearly all the neighbors out working, the whole thing was rather communal feeling.  Just then, another neighbor came out onto his porch for the first time and seeing the sheer amount of snow gave this somewhat maniacal laugh, in what I believe was a mixture of disbelief, wonder and defeat all at once.  Even though our muscle's ached and we had more than half of our work to go, it had us all laughing!  

The side walk below was even deeper than the driveway.  In the driveway it took four shovels full of snow to make a foot's worth of progress.  On the side walk it took SIX shovels full of snow.  And, the 5th and 6th shovels were very packed and heavy.  Mozart and I made a path down the side walk, and the boys helping the neighbor met us, cutting our work down (blessedly).  But since the pathway was only one shovel's width, we caved and hired another neighborhood boy with a snow blower to make the sidewalk wide enough and clean up the end of our driveway a bit more.  Our town's codes say we need to have the walks clear enough for a wheelchair to pass, and that just wasn't going to cut it.  I say, that was a well-spent $20!

Wise choice.

I did NOT come home with an English Bulldog today.

I have had a want for an English Bulldog for a very long time, so I commend myself in saying no. I still really like the IDEA of having a bulldog, and a coworker had three of them (Boo, Nova and Chevy) that need homes ASAP.  They may already have gone to Dakin, poor things.

Aside from my penchant for English Bulldogs and Italian.  Greyhounds, see, I'm not so much of a dog person.  I'd like to take them on walks every so often, but I'm not so sure about four times a day. And, I'm especially not so sure about taking the dog out before the sun gets up. Or picking up its poop.  And we don't have a fenced in yard. And even if we did, I'd still have to pick up the poop.  Vacations,  not that we can afford them, would be more complicated. And when we are having a hard time getting our own food, how could we expect to pay for dog food and vet bills on top of it.

I told the Wife that I was very good not to have brought home an English Bulldog today.  She told me I was very good to have made that decision as well.  I told her that I would just have to get one later on, but a purebred like these little guys were would be $1500. She told me that if I ever paid $1500 for a dog we'd be getting a divorce.  I was joking, of course, but she may not have been, I fear...

I made a wise choice, but Mozart would have loved a little Boo, or Nova, or Chevy. But, Boo and Nova and Chevy will find much more equipped homes, I'm sure, maybe even with fenced in yards and lots of kids to play with...

Cuteness Abound

Where Mama?
The other day I woke up to the chilling sound of a seal barking with intermittent whoops as Mozart tried to get some air back in his lungs. I wasn't so worried about whooping cough, but did think we might be in for a rough week of croup.  Thankfully, none of that has come to pass.  We are doing Dragon Breath (nebulizer treatments) every day again, have a humidifier in Mozart's room, and are generally taking it easy.  Last night, with the chicken in the oven and the Wife and Mozart settled in to have some Dragon Breath and watch Mouse (Stuart Little), I let them both know that I had to run out and get another script for his Albuterol filled.  I returned 15 minutes later and they were still both very engrossed in Mouse with all the lights in the front room turned off.  I quietly set the script down, put my coat on the hook and made my way to the couch for some longed-for downtime.  I wasn't trying to hide the fact that I was home, but I didn't want to disrupt the snuggly movie watching.  About 20 minutes later, Mozart hops down from Mommy's lap, goes into the kitchen, and says, "Where Mama?"  The Wife - as I - thought that he'd heard when I came in, so she amusingly asked where I was, and was met with the reply, "Mama store. Med-cine."  He then went back up to her lap to watch some more, but every couple minutes would hop down again and repeat a similar scene.  Finally, the timer for the chicken went off, and the wife turned off the movie.  They both went into the kitchen and Mozart, again, and a little more urgently now starts asking repeatedly where I am.  I, meanwhile, was catching up on Facebook and watching from the dark corner.  He comes back into the front room, still asking, "Where Mama?" and lays his head down on the couch (where I am sitting on the other end), turns his head, and realized with the best giggle that I've been there all along.  I'm not sure I've captured this, but my it was precious.

 I drive.
This afternoon after I picked up Mozart from daycare, I was showing off my portable diaper bag solution (will have to make a post of this soon), and so while I grabbed my purse I put him in the driver's seat.  He was quietly thrilled at being behind the wheel.  Kiki and I finished our conversation and I went to switch Mozart to his seat, and was met with an infuriated, "I drive! I drive! NO! I Driiiiiive!"  Um, whoa.  Thankfully, I have a tractor on my key chain that he sometimes gets to play with and letting him do so at this moment did the trick.  Crisis averted.  Until he is 16.

Happy Feet.
When we got home, I put together a chicken pot pie, popped it in the oven, set up Dragon Breath and Happy Feet to watch.  Mozart generally is opposed to watching new videos.  I mean, no, not really.  He is opposed to the IDEA of watching new videos.  The entire time I was doing the above he was chanting, "Train, yeah.  Um, Mouse. Yeah, Mouse. Oh, Train? Yeah! Train!  No, no, no. Train! Mouse!"  That no, no, no, of course, was when he saw that I had not select either Train or Mouse.  I ignored the whole thing because I was just not in the mood to be subjected to the 50th viewing of either Train or Mouse.  When the movie came on, he was rapt, calling the penguins whales, and seeming to enjoy himself, but I wasn't really sure that he was following anything.  About an hour in (when the timer when off for the pot pie), we shut it off and moved to the table, which he was very excited about - you know having pie for dinner - what could be better?  Except that there is mashed potatoes in said pie, and they dared touch the chicken, carrots and peas, which is apparently cringe-worthy if you are one tiny Mozart.  He did manage to eat a suitable amount and I cleaned him up and put him down to be turned over to Mommy for bedtime.  But when I put him down, he started to dance like Mumble just after he hatched.  The Wife just cocked her head and I said, "He's got Happy Feet."  Mozart, embellishing his on his dance and now quite into it, says, "Yeah! Feet!"  And he danced all the way to the stairs where he was scooped up for his bath.

These are moments when I wish I had a video that I could replay and replay. 

And gluten free, even!

Good day, good evening, hello, and how are you?  I survived the week.  This is big.  I SURVIVED THE WEEK!  And, at the end of it, I have managed to have an excellent dinner with new friends and  Mme. Child. Two weeks ago, I met one of the new friends at the Y and we made a play date at jump-around-time with her family for the following week.  Mme. Child was there and so we all planned an impromptu dinner for tonight.  It was awesome!  And, I made gluten free tuile cookies!  I first found a couple recipes that I tried, that all had flour in them, and then changed a few things to make them gluten free.  And so here it is below:

Gluten Free Almond Tuile Cookies
Makes between 2-3 dozen, depending on size

3/4 cup + 1 Tbsp Almond flour
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/2 brown sugar
1 Tbsp heavy whipping cream
1/2 tsp almond extract
pinch of salt

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.  Mix all ingredients in saucepan over low heat until it is mixed well together.  Get two cookie sheets and cover with parchment paper.  Put about a teaspoon of batter, evenly spaced on parchment paper, 6 dollops per cookie sheet.  Bake for 5-7 minutes (until browned on the outside, but still light on the inside).  Remove from oven (while you put the next sheet of dollops in the oven) and let sit for just one minute.  Use small cannoli rounds, or a wooden spoon, to form the tuile and set on cooling racks.  A couple of recipes suggested that you use a spatula to flip the cookies over so you get the lacy part on the outside - I found this to be a wastes step and just picked up the edge to lay it over the cannoli round  and move from there - they are warm, yes, but the parchment paper protects your fingers from getting burned by the cookie sheet.  You'll have to work quickly - in order to form the tuile before the they harden, so you'll have about a minute or two to spare before the next batch is  ready.  You can go ahead and use the parchment paper for all of the batter - no need to change it out.  The whole thing is rather acrobatic.  I suggest that any children be kept busy in another room or out of the house completely during this process and I nearly tripped over Mozart a couple of times - and the Wife was doing a fine job of occupying him!  I'm afraid my SD card on my phone used up the very last photo with the taking of the above photo, so I do not have a stylish photo of the grand finale served with ice cream and caramel sauce, but you get the idea!