You say it's your birthday

It's official. We no longer have any babies in this house. We have big boys. Thomas' birthday celebration began on Thursday and ran through Saturday night and now we've got a two-year-old, who I'm sure will grace us with plenty of terrible two behavior in coming months. But, for today, we'll just call him delightful. He loves me and I'm not sure what more I could ask for from a rambunctious little man.

He's a lucky boy who was gifted with many celebrations and lots of fun new toys and books this weekend. With that, I present the photo retrospective of Thomas' big birthday weekend.

We started the party on Thursday evening because a large box from UPS was waiting and we figured spreading out the opening of gifts would be better. It just so happens that the first box contained what turns out to be probably the most fought-over and generally delightful gift he's ever received. Both boys loved it and have negotiated (fought) over it all weekend. It's a moon pod and moon rover that go with a rocket that he received for Christmas. BIG FUN. LOTS of astronauts!

Friday brought the party at school. My colleague, Kate, gets creative credit for the Jayhawk sugar cookies that the Toddler Room friends and staff enjoyed. It seemed appropriate given the March Madness swirling in Lawrence. The cookies were literally as big as the faces of most of the kids.

Friday afternoon we were able to play outside, which is a gift in itself with the winter we've had and we went to our favorite mexican restaurant so Thomas could gorge himself on chips & salsa and rice. He opened his gift from mommy, daddy and Andrew that evening. More fighting ensued, even though mommy had carefully selected a toy that seemed fool-proof on that front.

Saturday brought a joint birthday dinner for Thomas and Great Grandma Sarah. They celebrated a combined 89 years and I think the fact that we can all be together to do that is pretty amazing. We had great food and the generations teamed to blow out candles and open gifts. You know what they say...many hands make quick work!

After dinner Andrew talked Mark into playing Candyland and someone(s) talked Grandma into a sing-along in the office.

Then we came home and everyone melted down for the next 45 minutes because, really, how could home and bedtime compete with all of that fun?

I think he enjoyed his weekend and I know he's enjoying all his new loot. In true two-year-old fashion, he'll tell anyone who asks that it's "MINE! No, Andrew. MINE."

I once read - or maybe someone told me - that when you have small kids the days are sometimes long but the months and years fly by, and we know that's true.

Happy Birthday, Thomas Luke!

Taking applications

In theory, I'm the boss of myself. And, in a loving and guiding way, am a boss to two amazing little boys. However, it occured to me tonight that I end many days feeling a little like I'm the constant employee and never the employer. I'm a first-born. And, I'm a Leo. I think I'm supposed to be the boss of someone. I'll be seeking candidates. Let me know if you'd like an application.

I can't hear you, I can't hear you, mmm...

For many months now, Thomas has LOVED to rifle through our wallets. He likes to generally rearrange everything. You know, he does standard stuff like move carefully organized receipts from one place to another, puts all the never-used airline frequent flyer cards into one overstuffed card slot, removes the pen from its little holder and usually finds a few seconds to admire any pictures of himself he can find.

He got a hold of my purse this morning and in order to buy a few minutes to finish up my pre-work routine, I turned my back on the activity. When I returned to the bedroom, this is what I found.

You'll notice tht he's got my Visa card in his right hand and this is when Mommy began gently encouraging (or maybe loudly demanding) with him to put the wallet away. But, alas, he couldn't hear me. Those are orange ear plugs in - and around - his left ear. There were approximately 11 of them. In one ear. Apparently that makes it very difficult to hear. I like to call this photo, "I can see your lips moving but I can't seem to make out what you're saying, mommy."

We got the wallet reassembled, thrown in the purse and we headed out to school. I dropped Thomas in the toddler room first, then took Andrew to Pre 2. Upon leaving Pre 2 I was greeted in the hallway by Thomas' teacher. He was holding 17 cents in his hand. It was 17 pennies that had apparently been pilfered from our bathroom drawer and my wallet. He had found them in Thomas' pockets and felt as though pennies weren't appropriate playthings for the 18-month to 2.5-year-old set. I'm seriously going to win a parenting award any day now.

For ages five and older

For a mere $1.49 at Target, you can purchase a Dudley's egg dying kit. It contains nine color tablets, four egg wraps, stickers, a clear wax crayon and the box conveniently transforms into an egg holder. It's a darn good deal.

The box clearly says, "for ages 5 and older" on the outside. I noticed that as I read the directions this evening. I lingered on that advice for an extra second, but come on...pssshaw. Lots of kids way younger than five dye Easter eggs. Right?

Thomas helped spread out newspapers and both boys waited at the table impatiently while I filled the cups with water. Then, we dropped the color tablets in the water and you could almost read their little minds. "What's the big deal here. Nothing's happening." That's when I got to play Mr. Wizard by adding the magic ingredient. Thomas graced us with his full-body chuckle with each teaspoonful of vinegar poured and Andrew said "oooh" and "aaah" as if on cue. We were in business.

Andrew gets the whole egg coloring concept and, just like at Christmas, is at the perfect age to really get into all these odd traditions we've paired up with religious holidays. He carefully dipped his eggs and was willing to wait for them to fully soak-up whatever color he was working toward. He even took suggestions graciously and let me help him when he really needed it.

Thomas, not so much. Thomas was on the do-it-yourself-plan tonight. Egg dippers? For sissies. Real men use their fingers. Just one or two carefully selected colors per egg? For wimps. Real men rapidly transfer their egg from one cup to the next as quickly as possible. Egg dye splashing? That's why we spread out the newspaper. And, why is everyone getting all upset and rushing for paper towels? Isn't that why we own stock in Shout Gel?

We started with an even dozen eggs and after just one casualty, ended our extravaganza with 11. Not bad. That 11th egg got a lot of love, as Thomas was unwilling to stop with the decorating. It saw a little action in every single color multiple times and he was the last person at the table by 10 minutes. I finally took pity on the egg and our kitchen table and we called it a night. His hands are still orange, even after a long bath, and his shirt and mine might never be the same, but Easter comes but once a year and our finished products look great!

A crash course on cheese

At the dinner table this evening...

Andrew: Mommy, what is that on your veg-et-a-bulls?

Me: It's shredded cheese.

Andrew: Can I have some?

Me: Sure. I'll get you a little bowl to use.

Andrew: No, mommy. I don't need a bowl. I'll just lick it off my plate. Oh, and mommy, I don't want Farmer John cheese. I want pizza cheese. What's that called? Mostarella?