Cute Things From Paul

Underwear

Paul’s fully toilet trained and surprises me with his ability to get dressed all by himself. But. For some reason, the creators of toddler underwear decided to put Elmo’s (and Thomas’ and James’) face on the back of the underpants. Paul sometimes insists on wearing his underpants backwards so he can see Elmo (or Thomas or James).

Time

Paul loves clocks. Last week, I noticed that whenever I said, “ten minutes” or “what time is it?” Paul would look at his (naked) wrist and say “no, 12 minutes!” or  “it’s 1-0-2-3” or “it’s 5-8-9-7”. He likes to tell time and know the time. Since neither Mom nor Dad wear watches, I think he learned that people wear clocks on their wrists from his preschool teachers, both of whom wear watches.

Preschool

Paul loves preschool. When he was looking at his watch (see story above), I said, “Paul, did you learn that at preschool?” Ever since, everything he “learned at preschool.”

“How did you know how to put on your own shoes?”

“From preschool!”

“How did you learn to get the milk out of the fridge all by yourself?”

“I learned at preschool!”

“How did you get so good at putting that puzzle together?”

“At preschool!”

You name it, he learned it at preschool, even when I know he didn’t really.

McDonald’s

Since Ryan has been traveling the last few weeks, I’ve been trying to make our dinner times exciting so it won’t feel so lonely. One night, we were having Chicken Nuggets so I made Paul a menu to “order” from. I wrote a big golden arch on the front for our “McReid’s” restaurant. He saw the yellow M and said, “M is for french fries!”

We’ve only been there about twice in his lifetime (once when he was newborn in Australia) and we never watch television with commercials, so I was quite puzzled at this. I finally decided that a Halloween costume we saw (french fries in a red McDonald’s container) was memorable for him.

Christmas

There are Christmas decorations in the store and I’m working on a Christmas project. (Yes, it’s way too early, but there you go.) Each morning, Paul wakes up to ask if it is Christmas yet. This is going to be a long month.

Cheese

Paul says I should write about cheese. At preschool, they sometimes have cheese for snack. Paul leaves preschool saying, “yummy yummy cheese!” when I pick him up. Then we get home and I offer him a little sliver of cheese. “Yucky! I don’t like cheese.” So I asked him why he likes it at preschool and not at home:

“I like cheese at preschool only!”

Okay then.

Singing and Talking

Paul regularly likes singing songs as we drive in the car. But I started singing a primary song in the car the other day, and he was quite annoyed.

“No, Mommy! No singing in the car! Singing at home only! That’s the new rule.”

I asked him about singing at preschool, or singing at church, so he changed the rule.

“Number 1, home. Number 2, church, Number 3, preschool. That’s the only places you can sing. That’s the rule. Number 1, number 2, number 3. Three places.”

He also made a “no talking in the car rule” a little later. I think he was over tired and a bit cranky, though, so I don’t take it personally. He also started singing himself a little later, so apparently, it’s only a rule for me… And I find it funny that he sees it necessary to establish “rules.” Do I do that too often?

Right Now

I told Paul I was writing the cute things he says and does. He said I should write:

“Grandma. Grandpa. Great Grandma [we’ll see all three of them tomorrow]. I love them!”

Yes, Paul, those are very cute things to say!

The Management of the Home Is an Art

Those women we call “house”-wives deserve praise. The domestic work they carry out, and which is not paid in hard cash, is essential to the home. Their compensation remains the pile of well ironed, sweet-smelling washing, the shining tiled floor on which the foot glides, the gay kitchen filled with the smell of stews. Their silent action is felt in the least useful detail: over there, a flower in bloom placed in a vase, elsewhere a painting with appropriate colours, hung up in the right place. The management of the home is an art. (page 63, So Long a Letter by Mariama Ba, translated from French by Modupe Bode-Thomas)

Background: Ramatoulaye is a teacher in 1970s or 1980s Senegal, married to a man who, after twenty-five years of marriage and twelve children, has taken a second wife: a young girl who was his oldest daughter’s best friend. In Senegal, under Islam, polygamy is legal. Ramatoulaye has plenty of issues to deal with, but I certainly appreciated her praise for those who care for her home. (Despite the fact that she has domestic help, she still must do much of the work to keep the home running.)

My Pumpkin Cake

I meant to post this on Halloween so my site would be rather festive. Alas, it has taken me a week to post this, but never fear: here is my pumpkin cake.

I have never decorated a cake before, so this was quite the undertaking. But actually, it was quite simple. I made two cake mixes and baked them in three rounds. When they were cool, I sliced off the top of two of them and stacked the three together, with frosting in between the layers.

Then I carved the sides off, so it was rounded a bit like a pumpkin. I frosted the sides and top. I used some of the extra cake (from the carving) to insert a little stem. After it sat in the fridge overnight, I frosted another layer so it would be smoother. I think it turned out well!
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It is a little lopsided, yes, but what pumpkin is ever completely rounded? Besides, it was my first attempt. It has the equivalent of one and a half cake mixes and five batches of frosting (each batch is 1/3 cup butter and 3 cups powdered sugar).

Is this to be a Halloween tradition?

I should note that I didn’t eat it. I took it to my ward Halloween party; it was a prize for the pumpkin carving contest. No worries, I had tons of leftover cake and frosting at home!

Thoughts on Presidents Gordon B. Hinckley and Thomas S. Monson

Oh! How I loved President Hinckley! When Paul said he wanted to watch the October 2007 General Conference, I was excited to hear my beloved prophet speak once again. October 2007 was his last conference. He died in January 2008. October 2007 conference was the conference I watched as I was in labor. It is a special conference for me.

But is was so interesting that now, even though I still got a feeling of love when I saw him get up at the podium, I no longer got that warm tingly feeling inside when I saw him speak and heard his voice. That warm testimony now goes to President Monson, and it came when the camera panned over him.

It was amazing how seeing President Hinckley speaking felt so different, but it is a comfort to know that I do have a testimony of President Monson. He is the prophet for our day. God lets me know.

Train Restaurant at Home (aka, Making Leftovers Fun)

It’s only for two nights. It’s nothing, but I still miss my husband tonight! I keep thinking of things like “oh, I have to take out the trash” and “Oh, right, I need to make sure all the doors are locked before I go to sleep.” Etc. It’s amazing how quickly I got used to having him home! (And I just talked to him and he apparently <sarcasm>really missed</sarcasm> all the fun that is O’Hare Airport.)

I was feeling sad as dinner came around. Trying to cook for two (and Paul doesn’t like to eat my dinners so it’s mostly for me) does not feel worthwhile. Plus, we had leftovers in the fridge, so I decided the lazy side won out and went for those.

Then I had a brilliant idea. Paul loves going to a restaurant, and he always orders Mac and Cheese. As soon as I say “restaurant,”  he yells out “I want Mac and Cheese!” So I told my son we were going to a restaurant for dinner. I welcomed him to the restaurant, sat him at the table, handed him a “menu” (really a piece of junk mail that was sitting on the counter) and asked him what he wanted: Mac and Cheese (left over from the other night when we did go to a restaurant) or Chicken Nuggets (other leftovers I had in the freezer for just such a night). He had a big smile as he pretended to read, then said, “Mac and Cheese!” I gave him two crackers to eat while he waited and a cup of milk with a straw (since restaurants always give him a drink with a straw), and he happily waited.

Then, out of the blue, Paul said, “Mommy, it’s a train restaurant!” A few months ago (a year ago?!) we went to a restaurant with Grandma and Grandpa in Naperville that did have trains. We sat around a counter and a train “delivered” the food to us. He loved it. So tonight I agreed our restaurant was a train restaurant, and got some GeoTrax from the basement. Soon, we had a small circle track for our battery-operated train. But I wouldn’t turn it on until he took a bit of food!  Turn off, and repeat for each bite.

I had mentioned that maybe after he ate we could have dessert. After a little while, he asked me for the “menu” again, and then he said, “I want some blueberry yogurt for dessert, please.” I hadn’t even suggested it, and I had been thinking of ice cream, but it was fun to know that for him it was a treat to have yogurt.

I noticed a lot of interesting things about this. I was treating him as if I were a waiter (“Hello, young man. What can I get you today?”) and acting all polite. As a result, instead of demanding as he usually does (“MILK! NOW!”), he mellowed out. “Can I please have some more milk please?” Was it the fact that we were in a restaurant (where he normally is more well behaved since it’s in public) or the fact that I was treating him nicer than I normally do? Probably both. I should treat him nicer more often.

At any rate, it made for a fun dinner and it got him to eat more than he would have eaten if I was grouchy as I had been when I was feeling sad that my husband was gone!