Warnie Bullseye Black

There's a new addition to the Family of Black. After Clive's sad and untimely death last week, not a day has passed in which Vince and I have not heard from Ezra, "can we go today and get a white dog with brown spots?" I was hesitant to get another dog so soon. I knew I could not handle a puppy right now, so the deal was if we could find a white dog with brown spots that was housebroken, already somewhat trained, and good with children, we could get another dog. Well, we found a white dog with brown spots who is already housebroken, somewhat trained and good with children... Warnie Bullseye is his name.

Strange name, Warnie Bullseye... yes, it is. Vince and I wanted to name our next dog Steve or Richard... because that's just funny. Ezra and Asher were not sold on the names we liked. Ezra wanted to name the dog Clive or Bullseye. Mom and Dad were not sold on Bullseye... and really, there will always be only one Clive.

Clive was named after a favorite author of ours, C.S. Lewis (Clive Staples Lewis). C.S. Lewis had a brother named Major Warren, who went by Warnie. We explained that Clive's brother's name was Warnie... Ezra and Asher were sold, with the condition that his middle name could be Bullseye. Thus the evolution of Warnie Bullseye Black. "Welcome ," to our new, very large, furry friend.

New Tricks and Hobbies

"Kirsten, have you seen this before?" I heard Vince ask yesterday after dinner. I came out of the kitchen to find Vince looking at Obed, happily rocking away on the rocking chair. In the last day or so, Obed has learned the fine trick of crawling up onto things... he has not, however, learned the fine trick of crawling down from things... thus resulting in a fat upper lip, a bleeding gum line, and a bruised forehead (to name only a few of the baby's tumbles in the last 24 hours).
There are days that I wonder if either Asher or Obed got even .0001% of my personality genes. Well, that's not completely accurate... I see many of my not-so-wonderful traits in all three of the boys (temper, need to control, etc... things no parent wants to see in her children!).

Obed and Asher will do just about anything for a laugh and mimic their father in more personality ways than I can even begin to count. I had a small ray of hope, today, however when I was cleaning. Obed is quite the avid cleaner and loves to Swiff the floors... and the kid does amazingly well. He even gets under the couch, under the tables, and all along the perimeter of the room. He also Swiffs the carpet, the bathtub and the tops of the chairs and couches... but hey, he's still learning.

The Inconvience of Downsizing

One disadvantage to living in a smaller town is that public transportation is almost non-existent. In spite of this fact, we decided to downsize about 6 months ago and are now a one car family. Most days, I'm grateful for the decision we made. We are more intentional about the trips we make, we don't use as much gas, and although it's a small thing, I'm glad we are leaving a bit of a smaller carbon imprint on the environment... not to mention that the overall cost is less (less gas, less insurance to pay, less maintenance).

There are days like many Sundays, however, that I miss the convenience of two cars. One Sunday a month, I play on the worship team, which requires my being at church by about 7:30 or 7:45. So on days like today, Vince and I both got up early and got ready, got the boys up, put their McQueen boots on (since they're the only boots that fit over the footy part of footy pajamas) and headed out the door. Then Vince came back home, got the boys fed, dressed and back out the door. On days that Vince preaches and I play on the worship team... yikes! Vince leaves at 3:30 to go to church, comes home by 7:00, takes me to the church, comes home to get the boys fed and ready, then makes his third trip to the church in a 4 hour time span.

I'm still grateful that we downsized... but there is something to be said for the convenience of having two cars.

Bedhead and Breakfast

Obed still has the super-soft, fine baby hair, so bedhead is rare with him. This morning, however, was the exception to the normal. Obed is finally able to join in the bedhead hall of fame! What a proud day in the Black home.
We attended a wedding last weekend at which our friend, Mandi, was the photographer. Ever since Asher saw Mandi taking pictures, he has been obsessed with taking pictures and uses his "flashlight camera" to take pictures of every and all activity. This morning he kept requesting I take pictures of him. "Take a picture of me eating oatmeal."

"Now take a picture of me eating toast." It was a large breakfast for Asher (toast, oatmeal, a banana, 4 strawberries, a toaster strudel and a large glass of juice)... and with every new item, he wanted his picture taken. The good thing about this is that if I ever forget what Asher looks like when he's eating oatmeal or toast, I now have pictures to commemorate this moment. Phew.

Just So You Know...

In case you were wondering... this is what a doorknob looks like after it's been beat with a hammer, jabbed with a screwdriver, and pried off its foundation. This particular scenario could happen if, say, your one year old locks himself into the guest room (which I have to admit, I didn't even know the door locked... much less that it required a key to unlock), the hinges are on the inside of the room (making it impossible to remove the door), the doorknob and foundation have no screws on the outside (in order to remove it from the door), and there is no key in the house that unlocks the door. When in this situation, there are several options. A) Go outside, get a ladder, crawl up to the window, break the window, hope the baby doesn't play with the broken glass, crawl in the broken window through the broken glass, rescue the baby and open the door from the inside. B) Call the fire department. Since the fire department is not allowed to go to any call without lights blazing and sirens screaming, wait for the fire department to arrive and every neighbor to come out of their homes to watch as the firemen arrive at our house in full fire gear, ready to rescue the child from the locked room. C) Smack the doo doo out of the doorknob until it falls off, allowing one to remove the insides of the doorknob and rescue the child from the locked room. I opted for C (although I'm quite certain Ezra and Asher would have much preferred B).

Sad Day

Our furry friend Clive died today. He started having seizures yesterday that lasted through the night. Vince took him to the vet today and it turns out he had a brain tumor. It's a sad day in the Black house... he's been our friend for almost 8 years now. Pray for Ezra... death is a hard concept to grasp - especially for a 4 year old. It's a great opportunity to talk about eternity... but a tough one none the less.

I'll have you know...

I'll have you know that I am not the dad who only plays "baby." We play manly things like "racecar" as well. My manliness has been challenged by many people over the last few days. Please people! I have a degree in Sculpture. That says manly...doesn't it?

On a side note - our games of "racecar" are both fun and educational. We get to play with cars and learn about palindromes at the same time.

Back off.

Please Daddy

"Will you please play baby, daddy?" Vince has successfully avoided this request all day... until 3:04 PM this afternoon. 

When the request first came this morning, Vince suggested they color... the boys were successfully distracted. When the request came a second time, he suggested building a sweet train set (not just a train set mind you, a sweet train set)... distraction attempt #2 successful. When the third request came, Vince suggested the boys play construction, so when I came home, every single car and truck from the whole house was spread over the living room... distraction attempt #3 successful. When the fourth request came, it was nap time... distraction attempt #4 successful. After nap, Vince took Ezra to Starbucks to play UNO - some good man-to-man time. 

Literally the moment Ezra walked in the door from his date with daddy, however, the request rose again. "Daddy, will you please play baby?" What does one do when his son wants to play baby and he's already used coloring, trains, construction, dates, and games (which Vince typically hates) to distract the child... he acquiesces and plays baby.  Vince even tried to distract the boys while playing baby.  The conversation went something like this... "oh, boys, let's play fireman!"  Ezra looked at Vince with a rather confused look and said, "but daddy, you don't have any fireman clothes."  After a moment, Ezra lit up and said, "oh, I have a good idea daddy... Asher and I will be the firemen and you can be the person who watches the babies."  Distraction attempt #5... bomb.  Much to his dismay, Vince sat today and played baby... with the boys. Sure, the babies had a bit more gas than they do when I play baby and they also flew across the room quite a bit. But a monumental moment nonetheless. Reason 992 that I love that guy.

Babies and Baskets

Obed wants to be like the big boys in just about everything. He has regressed in his walking some because, like his big brother Ezra, he has decided that walking on his tippy toes is preferable, thus causing his balance to disappear. And like his brother, Asher, he has decided that doing just about anything for a laugh is preferable. He has recently discovered that it is quite funny to sit in the library book basket to look at library books.
What's not so funny, however, is when he gets stuck in the library basket and cannot for the life of him figure out how to get out of said basket.

Ezra and Asher are still into imaginative play these days. They love to play "trip," "cars," "hosibul" (hospital), "crash," etc. Ezra and Asher have some friends in their lives that are girls and said girls like to play baby. To Vince's great dismay, one of the boys' new favorite games is baby. They like to dress up their babies (Elmo, Cookie Monster and Grover), feed them, bathe them, change their diapers. They are learning, even now, how to be good daddies.

Last week Vince took Ezra and Asher to Wal-Mart and let them pick out something small as a special treat. Ezra opted for two pink baby bottles and Asher chose a grocery basket of fruit, complete with a plastic knife and cutting board (so they could feed their babies, of course). The plastic knife, incidentally, is Obed's new favorite toy. I've found myself telling him several times, "Obed, don't crawl around with a knife in your mouth." I think that's probably good advice for anyone... not just Obed.

Snowy Morning

We've had all sorts of fun in the Black house the past 24 hours. Yesterday was Vince's birthday, so we celebrated with lunch at the "Irish" pub in town and an apple cheesecake for dessert. This is Vince doing his best "Mr. Potato head blowing out birthday candles" impression.
The boys got new PJ's from grandma, so they got to wear matching pajamas - which in the lives of a 2 year old and a 4 year old is BIG news! Obed didn't really care so much - but he looked cute, which really is the important thing, right?

We got about 8 inches of snow yesterday and last night... so we woke up to a beautiful, winter wonderland! Our neighbor, Mr. Shawn, works for the city and one of his responsibilities is city snow removal. He tends to detour from city snow removal, however, and does driveway snow removal for his driveway (which conveniently is a double driveway, connected to our driveway). This is always a highlight in the lives of the boys... really, could there be anything better than a backhoe loader in your own driveway driven by Mr. Shawn?

There are some hills in Nearly Canada... just not any by our house, so sledding is not an at home activity. Vince asked Mr. Shawn to dump the snow from the driveway in our front yard so he could make Mt. Black.

Ezra said he was a front end loader in this picture... can you see it?

Although Obed was around last year during snowy times, he was so little that he didn't really get to "play" much in the snow. Today was Obed's first romp in the snow. He thought it fun and fantastic... until the dreaded "falling face first" into the snow incident. After that, he was all done.

Asher thought it hilarious to fall face first into the snow... quite a change from last year, when hysterics would ensue if so much as a snowflake landed near his face.

Ezra is sledding down Mt. Black. I'm relatively certain Mt. Black will be in the front yard until at least April... possibly May... and I'm not joking.

Bedhead Buddies

Although I cannot see it either way, most people tell me that Ezra has features that look more like Vince than like me. Ezra and I, however, are similar in temperament. Ezra and I are both rule followers and people pleasers. Another area we are similar is that we have the same hair texture... which makes for amazing bedhead many a day.

Cold Turkey Big Boys

The boys are growing up. As a baby, Ezra was a paci junkie. The kid loved his paci. I started preparing him at about 2 1/2 years - letting him know that when he turned 3, his pacis would go away. He handled the transition remarkably well. Compared to Ezra, Asher is not only a paci junkie - pacis are his love, comfort and treasure. I've been talking to Asher for about 3 months now, preparing him to let go of his beloveds when he turns 3. After rest on Monday, I decided it was time to cut the tips off of his treasures so he could begin to transition to just holding them (since he typically sleeps with 3 - one in his mouth, and one in each hand) rather than sucking on them. I anticipated this to come with much weeping and gnashing of snaggly teeth, so I secretly held back 2 pacis so that when the night was sleepless due to Asher missing his beloveds, I could slip one into his hand and get some sleep myself. To my great shock, this was totally unnecessary. After I cut the tips off the pacis, Asher gave them a try and said, "I don't like this. Can I put it in the trash?" Well sure son, go ahead. He ran to the trash can, threw his pacis in, and it was done. He dropped them cold turkey. Asher went a few times throughout the day to peek at them and to bid them farewell once again. "Bye bye paci" he would say as he stood looking in the trash can and waving to them. He told them the garbage men would come on Tuesday and Friday to get them. I don't think the pacis really understood.
Obed is also growing up. I'm pretty sure he's trying to compete with Asher's snaggle teeth. He is walking now more than he is crawling, resulting in a lot of bruises on his face when he falls face first into the wall, the table, the floor, the bench. He has already busted his mouth open several times - but good news, we have yet to chip any teeth or knock them up into his gums. See, there's always a plus side.

He is also staying up now with the "big boys" for Bible time at night and wants to be in the mix of everything Ezra and Asher are doing. The second Vince sits down on the couch, Obed leaves whatever he is doing, scurries as quickly as he can to the couch, and grunts and hits the couch, signaling "get me up there NOW!" My favorite move is when he tries to lift his chubby little leg to climb up on the couch - only getting it about 3 inches off the ground... but he continually tries. He wants to sit right next to Vince and turn the pages of the bible.

Asher

I got this note from Asher's Sunday School teacher last night...

"I wanted to tell you that Asher is funny. Like you didn't know. Anyway, we were playing with textures on Sunday because Esau was rough and Jacob was smooth. The kids were taking turns pulling one thing out of my mystery bag and saying whether it was rough like Esau or smooth like Jacob. Asher pulled out a cheap light blue washcloth and was so in love with it he had no words. He completely forgot what we were doing and what he was supposed to tell us. He just kept feeling it and feeling it and smiling. Finally, I asked him, "Asher, is it rough, or smooth?" His reply, "Soft. Can I keep this and take it home?" As much as he loved it, he did readily accept that he couldn't keep it and take it home. That kid is just so darn coot!"

Strange Halloween

Maybe it's that we live in a small town (although my mom said it's the same in St. Louis), or maybe it's that I'm getting older (which Vince would heartily agree with)... but I sure don't remember when I was growing up, adults dressing up for Halloween. Sure, my elementary school teachers dressed up for our class party and my dad would dress up with us as we went trick-or-treating... but yesterday, as Vince and I were out for lunch, adults were dressed up everywhere we went - and in very elaborate costumes! I saw Little Red Riding Hood at Wal-Mart, some sort of bloody ghoul at at the Sunglass Hut, a very pregnant Greek Goddess at Barnes And Noble (must have been Aphrodite), the Hunchback of Notre Dame at JC Penney. A cow with udders served us at Pizza Hut and a woman riding an ostrich worked at the cash register. A man dressed as a woman with very large hoo-hoo's was walking at the mall, and some sort of goth looking girl was working at Target (although I'm not certain she was actually in costume). Last year, I had to leave my cart and literally chase Ezra as he ran out of Wal-Mart because the checker at Wal-Mart was dressed as a clown, and as we've discussed previously, Ezra has a serious terror of clowns. Have things changed, or was it always this way? What ever happened to cute little lobsters and firemen (hypothetically speaking of course)?