In traditional fashion, the 2011 Christmas will include about a half dozen different celebrations. In an effort to accommodate these festivities while also getting 'the most wonderful time of the year' over before Memorial Day, our family Christmas was on a Wednesday.
Tanna provided the holiday cheer on Tuesday. Cleaning house, putting up two strings of lights, wrapping gifts. It actually appeared that she might just break into a dance at some point due to uninhibited joy. I wanted to yell, "Tanna, stop being excited. You're not getting squat." I want to do a lot of things...
I celebrated Wednesday morning with some pretty solid puking efforts. For those of you who don't have kids, puking doesn't result in parenting awards. I really didn't care what the kids got into and got in bed. They have to grow up sometime, right? Also, I believe my wife caused my sickness. I don't get this 'Christmas cheer' crap. It makes me sick.
I laid in bed and prayed for death. The kids were on the loose.
Tanna walked in to find another soul with some Christmas cheer. Elizabeth! She had opened four presents!
Tanna loaded the kids up to go to daycare. En route, she asked Elizabeth why she was opening gifts.
"Elizabeth, you know you are supposed to wait until mommy and daddy say its okay to open Christmas presents."
"No I dote (don't)." (Actually, might be telling the truth here. We never really sat her down to explain the sequence of events that is Christmas...)
"Well, you need to wait until mommy and daddy are home and tell you its okay to open presents before you just start opening gifts."
In classic Elizabeth fashion, she dropped her head and turned it slightly away to try and escape the gentle admonishment. "Ohay (Okay)," she said sheepishly.
Ethan sat in his car seat absorbing it all. I think he probably relishes the opportunity to see Elizabeth scolded. "That's what you get for running me over, trying to squeeze my head off like a zit and stealing my toys!"
Suddenly, Elizabeth popped back to life. The pain of the gentle scolding long gone. She lurched forward. Her excitement contained only by the seat belt and boasted.
"BUT MOM, I GOT A BARBIE!"
As the day wore on, I recovered. Wrapped the once opened gifts. Prepared to suffer through more cheer.
Elizabeth got home and quickly recognized that the almighty "Ho Ho" had stopped by. It was finally time. Elizabeth dove into the packages, desperately searching for Barbie. Where was she? Had she disappeared? Maybe this one? No. Maybe this one? But it looks different than it did this morning. Hmmm. No this has to be it. It is Barbie size and Barbie weight. Feverishly opening the package, she suddenly howled "Barbie."
Merry Christmas Elizabeth.
This is the gift that keeps on giving. I now have the distinct pleasure of helping Elizabeth dress, undress and find shoes for the little skank known as 'Barbie.'
Bah humbug.
On a side note, my mom was evaluating naked Barbie at Christmas celebration #11 and had this to say. "Well, at least they've made those smaller." Guessing this is in reference to the boobs. How big were they?
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
For Both of You
This blog is in honor of both people who read it. Tanna and someone who got carried away clicking on random blogs...
Potty training is an adventure. I've yet to hear two similar stories. Some kids learn quick. Some kids learn slow. Some kids take great pride in both the size and number of turdlets dropped into the fishbowl. I'm proud of my two children. The eldest, Elizabeth, drops some bombs that are filled with hot dogs, cheese and pride. Ethan watches the bathroom door tirelessly as he waits for an unsuspecting user to leave the door open. Then, he kind of crawls (arms crawl, one leg crawls, one leg trying two walk with a knee that refuses to touch the ground) to the toilet where his life's mission is to at the least splash in the tinted water that smells like coffee. With some luck, he can turd bob...
This weekend, Elizabeth successfully pooped in the toilet. She does a pretty good job of finding the toilet. Unless we're outside. All bets are off. She went golfing with me and peed on the green. This weekend, she dropped her pants in the middle of the yard, tripped over them and peed sitting in the grass. Awesome.
This time she made it. She pushed. She pooped. I was proud. She was happy.
"Look dad! Dadda, babae (baby), Eh-an (Ethan)."
First glance, I was confused. I only saw two turds, not three.
Found it.
Three turds. All named according to size. I always wondered what an obese 1 year old would look like if he was a turd...
Elizabeth wasn't done yet. She ran to the living room, grabbed her mom and showed her the masterpiece. Tanna was disgusted. I was thrilled. I have handed the turd show and tell torch to my daughter. (Unless I have a really big one, but that's what cell phone cameras and facebook are for.)
Potty training is an adventure. I've yet to hear two similar stories. Some kids learn quick. Some kids learn slow. Some kids take great pride in both the size and number of turdlets dropped into the fishbowl. I'm proud of my two children. The eldest, Elizabeth, drops some bombs that are filled with hot dogs, cheese and pride. Ethan watches the bathroom door tirelessly as he waits for an unsuspecting user to leave the door open. Then, he kind of crawls (arms crawl, one leg crawls, one leg trying two walk with a knee that refuses to touch the ground) to the toilet where his life's mission is to at the least splash in the tinted water that smells like coffee. With some luck, he can turd bob...
This weekend, Elizabeth successfully pooped in the toilet. She does a pretty good job of finding the toilet. Unless we're outside. All bets are off. She went golfing with me and peed on the green. This weekend, she dropped her pants in the middle of the yard, tripped over them and peed sitting in the grass. Awesome.
This time she made it. She pushed. She pooped. I was proud. She was happy.
"Look dad! Dadda, babae (baby), Eh-an (Ethan)."
First glance, I was confused. I only saw two turds, not three.
Found it.
Three turds. All named according to size. I always wondered what an obese 1 year old would look like if he was a turd...
Elizabeth wasn't done yet. She ran to the living room, grabbed her mom and showed her the masterpiece. Tanna was disgusted. I was thrilled. I have handed the turd show and tell torch to my daughter. (Unless I have a really big one, but that's what cell phone cameras and facebook are for.)
Friday, August 26, 2011
New Toys!
Since Ethan is a big deal, he got to participate in two birthday parties last Saturday. While we haven't had time to discuss the parties, I think he really enjoyed spending time with friends and family. He also really enjoyed opening all of his presents and got everything he wanted. Well almost....
Elizabeth really looks out for her little brother and works tirelessly to make sure all of his needs are met. A humble servant.
Today she recognized that Ethan's vast array of toys were not what he really needed. He really needed something that only Elizabeth could provide.
She then took it upon herself to meet that need.
She dropped her pants.
She crapped on the floor.
She gave him a scoop to accompany his newest gift.
He shoveled.
He squished.
He threw.
He smiled and laughed.
Suddenly, his mood changed. Overcome with sudden determination and unbreakable focus, his large head manipulated his small fingers and the grabbed a small piece of the remaining gift. Slowly he drew it closer. His head begin to tip back. His mouth opened.
I entered the living room, surveyed the situation and screamed 'NOOOO!' with Mel Gibson Braveheart enthusiasm. While I realized that Ethan wouldn't listen, I hoped the sheer volume would scare him so bad that he couldn't possibly worry about his next bite.
He jerked. Looking up, his face turned and bottom lip began to quiver. Beginning to cry, he dropped to all fours and began crawling my way, smashing feces between his fingers and the floor. Crawling through the mess he'd created for me.
Now what? Pick him up? Shoo him towards the shower? Grab a foot and drag him outside to be hosed off? Hopeless, I just picked him up and began to wash him. He willingly shared much of his gift with me and I managed to get bits and pieces all over myself.
Four lessons:
1 - Lesson 3 is really important.
2 - Elizabeth has a servant's heart. Would you be willing to dump all over the floor just to make someone else happy?
3 - Don't eat your fingernails.
4 - Don't forget lesson 3!
Elizabeth really looks out for her little brother and works tirelessly to make sure all of his needs are met. A humble servant.
Today she recognized that Ethan's vast array of toys were not what he really needed. He really needed something that only Elizabeth could provide.
She then took it upon herself to meet that need.
She dropped her pants.
She crapped on the floor.
She gave him a scoop to accompany his newest gift.
He shoveled.
He squished.
He threw.
He smiled and laughed.
Suddenly, his mood changed. Overcome with sudden determination and unbreakable focus, his large head manipulated his small fingers and the grabbed a small piece of the remaining gift. Slowly he drew it closer. His head begin to tip back. His mouth opened.
I entered the living room, surveyed the situation and screamed 'NOOOO!' with Mel Gibson Braveheart enthusiasm. While I realized that Ethan wouldn't listen, I hoped the sheer volume would scare him so bad that he couldn't possibly worry about his next bite.
He jerked. Looking up, his face turned and bottom lip began to quiver. Beginning to cry, he dropped to all fours and began crawling my way, smashing feces between his fingers and the floor. Crawling through the mess he'd created for me.
Now what? Pick him up? Shoo him towards the shower? Grab a foot and drag him outside to be hosed off? Hopeless, I just picked him up and began to wash him. He willingly shared much of his gift with me and I managed to get bits and pieces all over myself.
Four lessons:
1 - Lesson 3 is really important.
2 - Elizabeth has a servant's heart. Would you be willing to dump all over the floor just to make someone else happy?
3 - Don't eat your fingernails.
4 - Don't forget lesson 3!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Teem Hanna?
Teem Hanna is Tanna, Elizabeth, Ethan, and Matt.
Tanna Hanna can be credited with the creative name.
Matt Hanna is stuck with updates.
The name really means so much more. It's the hierarchy within our home.
1. Tanna
2. Elizabeth
2b. Ethan
4. Matt
I'm not complaining. As a matter of fact, I'm thrilled to be sleeping inside the house. While we love our children equally, Elizabeth trumps Ethan on the hierarchy because of size (barely), motor skills and pure determination. Until Ethan can knock Elizabeth over, steal toys at will and stop her from 'styling' his hair with a squirt bottle and stiff comb, he's stuck at 2b.
Also, don't tell Elizabeth that she is #2. While she occasionally is forced to admit that momma, dadda, gampa and ganma are the bosses, I doubt her sincerity. I think #1 and #2 will be jockeying for position constantly over the next 15 years or so. Doesn't make the bottom of the food chain look so bad does it?
My wife has instructed me to make clever and funny blog updates. We'll see how this goes.
Look for humorless updates irregularly...
Tanna Hanna can be credited with the creative name.
Matt Hanna is stuck with updates.
The name really means so much more. It's the hierarchy within our home.
1. Tanna
2. Elizabeth
2b. Ethan
4. Matt
I'm not complaining. As a matter of fact, I'm thrilled to be sleeping inside the house. While we love our children equally, Elizabeth trumps Ethan on the hierarchy because of size (barely), motor skills and pure determination. Until Ethan can knock Elizabeth over, steal toys at will and stop her from 'styling' his hair with a squirt bottle and stiff comb, he's stuck at 2b.
Also, don't tell Elizabeth that she is #2. While she occasionally is forced to admit that momma, dadda, gampa and ganma are the bosses, I doubt her sincerity. I think #1 and #2 will be jockeying for position constantly over the next 15 years or so. Doesn't make the bottom of the food chain look so bad does it?
My wife has instructed me to make clever and funny blog updates. We'll see how this goes.
Look for humorless updates irregularly...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)