Thank you, Nana

Climbing on The Dad is good fun. He'll let me do this when I'm 6'4" and 210 lbs., right?


Anyway, one of my favorite presents [yesterday, during a diaper change, Iain said, "I need to open another present! Right! Now!"] was a little puzzle Nana sent. Dad helped me put it together.

It's Thomas the Tank Engine! I love Thomas. And Percy. And Bertie. And Emily. And trains in general. And cars. Trucks. Loaders. Diggers. Backhoes, Graders. Buses. Airplanes. Helicopters. Taxis. Really anything with wheels and an engine.

A Little Something for Bart

BEST STOCKING EVER!

Charles and I decided not to give each other gifts this year, but we still used our stockings. When you have awesome, sparkly, hand-embroidered stockings you need to use them.

In addition to my bottle of Scottish goodness (!!), I received these silicon pot holders. They fit over the metal handles of LeCreuset pots. Above, the ones for the rounded handles of my stock pot, and below the ones that fit onto the longer handles on skillets.


There's the enameled handle, and below, the same handle, wrapped in puffy silicon padding. Also, Iain decided to cook his new puzzle pieces. Like we always say: a dump truck tastes better after a quick fry in clarified butter. Everyone agrees.

And lastly, a little somefink for Bart. You know you love it when James T. Kirk gets naughty.

It Won't Hurt a Bit, I Promise

Iain had his first visit to the dentist last week. Naturally, it snowed that morning. But whatever. Utahns know how to deal with snow.

The office was pretty great, as it turned out. They had a little room with risers for sitting and toys and a wall-mounted TV playing Despicable Me. When we retired to a private room (actually, semi-private. There was an adolescent getting his teeth cleaned next to us), they had flat screen TVs mounted on the ceiling, so you could lay back and watch the same movie while you submitted to a scrubbing.

Iain cried during the cleaning, but he permitted it. He opened his mouth, he didn't bite, and he calmed down as soon as it was done. He even allowed them to X-ray his teeth. It's weird to see his grown-up teeth in there. Weird.

Then we waited for the actual dentist, and Iain got a little fidgety. You just can't keep toddlers waiting. But eventually Dr. Someone arrived, and he proclaimed the need for braces (one day) and we got a goodie bag and left.

Iain loves that goodie bag. It had a toothbrush (with a character named Diego on it), a small tube of Crest Kids toothpaste (which he likes because it's sparkly), and a small soccer-ball colored SuperBall. We have not shown Iain what a SuperBall can do.

So that was that. Except that I guess he was inspired, because now he wants to brush his teeth all the time. This morning we sent him to wash his hands after brekkie and what did he do? Obsessively scrub his teeth (ok, he wets the brush, sucks off the water, then leans over and shouts "PIT!" and spits a little).

[A little context: as I write this, he's in his room, slamming blocks around, and singing, veryveryfast, "Muffin Man! Muffin Man! Muffin Man!" It's supposed to be Nap Time.]

[SEND HELP!]

Look UP!

Iain received a toy helipad with little cars on it. He was showing me the cars, and I tried to take his picture, but he kept staring at the floor. I said, "Look up!"

Uh, not exactly what I had in mind.

He really wants to show you those cars, but they're in his hands, see? So he'll hold them up, but you can't actually see them.

Anyway, more Christmas morning photos to come. We had a nice morning and are having a nice week in general. This afternoon we strolled down to the Post Office (temp: 39! Snow tonight and a high of 34 tomorrow!) and then back up the hill, enjoying a window of sunshine before more weather rolls in.

On Christmas Eve we headed down to IKEA to get lamps for my classroom, and this bedspread leapt into my bag:

Pretty cute, huh? Oh, and the sheets, too.

Cars!!

Ooo! A box from Uncle Garner. Cars, cars, and more cars!

Yes, Dad, hand them all TO ME! P.S. They're modular. They break down and can be put back together and all interact. Whee!

Time to race. Dad, you go over there. Ok, Ready, Steady....Go!

It's a beautiful, sunny day here. We got up, went for a walk, then cleaned out the garage. Yes. Because that's what people do on Christmas, obvy. Then we changed Iain's sheets, dug out my skiing gloves, and zipped the liner into my trench coat.

We live an exciting life, here. Now Iain's refusing to nap (he just opened his bedroom door and let loose a very loud Bronx cheer), Charles is talking to his dad, and I'm trying to finish a PowerPoint for my lecture on The Plains Wars.

Festive!

The Neighbors

Last night: knock knock. Our neighbor across the street. He bore a card and a little bag of home made caramels. Some are licorice caramels. That may sound gross, but I have to tell you that it's like a regular caramel, just barely kissed with a touch of Arak or Pastis. Delicious.

This afternoon: Ding Dong. Our neighbor next door. She gave us a small loaf of home made panetone.

This evening: knock knock. Our neighbor across the T-street - diagonal neighbor, I guess. Bearing? A bottle of Kentucky bourbon!!! So we invited him in for a drink, because...well, duh.

In other news, we've finally learned how to put Iain to sleep. You let him lay in the Big Bed, and you put on a Warren Miller movie about skiing and snowboarding. Ten minutes of "I want to do that!" and he's OUT.

Anxiety Dream

So I walk into a huge, ampitheatrical, arced classroom. As in, shaped like a boomerang, plus stadium seating. And there are maybe 200 students in there, all talking and stuff.

And I realize I'm supposed to give a pop quiz, but I made no copies.

So I grab a sheet and start picking questions from it. Someone else wrote the sheet. Some of the questions are ok, but I keep forgetting which ones I want to pick. And I write them on the board, so they can all take the quiz, but I realize that most of the board is already covered in notes. They're some other teacher's notes, and it says, "Do Not Erase!" No room for my questions.

Then about 50 more students walk in, all clumped in little groups. They're talking, so that's disruptive. And now I have to give them quizzes. But I'm not sure which questions I already used, and since I couldn't write them on the board...how do I know what to give the new kids?

And they came in late. So should they get 10 minutes, or only 5? I dunno!

AND THEN, in walks my principal, with a set of parents and a member of the Board of Trustees. And they're all: "Teach!" and "Be brilliant and impressive!"

Remember that the room's a boomerang? So I can't see all the students, and they can't hear me. I keep walking back and forth, trying to bridge the middle hump, be seen, be heard...students start walking out.

Gulp.

You'd think I'd get a break from teaching anxiety dreams for the holidays. But you'd be wrong.

Good Work

But I don't want to go to bed!

It's been a good morning for customer service. I ordered Prozyme for the dogs at 10am. It just shipped (at 12:45). We went to Smith's for groceries, and helpful staff asked if we needed anything, then knew exactly where the toy cars were. And they had everything I wanted. And there was no line to check out.

Deseret Industries? Parking! Immaculately clean! Tons and tons of used blankets for sale for $1 each (Santa came early for Boris and Juno, who now have deliciously fluffy, warm beds)! The Post Office? Tidy and moving quickly, with a stamp machine that worked great.

Caputo's? We were greeted at the door by a student I know (best friend of Iain's babysitter). We found parking right behind the shop and they had freshfreshfresh local eggs, just like I like it. Iain was such a good boy I had to buy him a little Italian lemon cookie.

Whew! Lots of errands and absolutely no problems. Yay!

CHOP!

Observe. This is what happens when Charles, Devin, and Iain collide.

Charles and Devin went to the game store, see? And when they returned, they had two foam swords. Swords. Can you imagine anything dearer to the heart of a bloodthirsty toddler? No, I can't either.
Iain carried his sword around (as you can see above), not really observing the rules of pretend. I mean, if that were a real sword, and we're pretending it is, then he'd be holding the blade against his neck!

Also, notice what Devin's spelling?


Yeah. Iain spent that week running around yelling, "Chop!" and then whacking or being whacked with a sword. Good times.

Here, Devin is crouched and ready for an attack. Little does he know that the most dangerous of his enemies is...BEHIND HIM! Oh noes!

BTW, in case you worried that we were running low on sweets, we received more cookies today. Our friends Helga and Ed dropped by a beautiful box of biscotti, brownies, oatmeal cookies, Russian tea cookies, etc. And a good thing, too, because we were down to our last two boxes of cookies, one box of toffee, a bag of assorted truffles and a 2lb. box of dark chocolate ganache truffles. Oh, and one butterscotch candy cane. And some challah. And four huge pears.

But other than that, we were running out.

Those Cheeky Little Monkeys! Also: Yum.

One of my students made us a pie. Only when I unwrapped it did I find his message to me. So patriotic.

Another student descends from German immigrants. So every Christmastime, they bake braided egg bread:

It's truly, really, wonderful bread. Buttery, soft but with a great flaky crust, and utterly delicious toasted with butter.

The thank-you notes are in the mail tomorrow, but I had a hard time knowing what to say to some people. How many synonyms are there, for "Yum!"?

Today, I Drop Things

Iain has learned to use the salad spinner. He asks to "make salad" frequently. Note that you simply must keep your phone at the ready when making salad. What if you need to call someone mid-spin?

1. My lunch. My entire lunch. Dropped on the floor.
2. Iain's dinner plate (post-semi-eating). I was supposed to put it on the counter in case he wants more later. Instead, I tipped it enough to drop the (ketchup-covered) fork onto my coat/scarf/counter top/floor. Joy.
3. The dishwasher detergent square, half-broken open. Onto the floor, a smear of blue-green goo.

Urgh.

Today was supposed to be about skiing. I was going up to Park City to stand at the bottom of a hill and ring a cowbell in support of several of my students. But Iain woke at 630, cranky and not-quite-right. Then Charles and I woke to yet another day of what Bart and Tony so cheerily call our lurgy. Half-nausea, half-just-not-rightness, no appetite, a sense of disconnection, that sort of thing.

So we stayed in the flats, despite a mid-day text from two of the girls, saying they'd "go faster" if I was there. Oh, the guilt.

He likes to make it spin really, really fast, then lock the top down.

Yup!

We learned via email that Iain's classroom will be getting 2 guinea pigs in January. So tonight as we walked toward Barnes and Noble, I asked Iain:

"Do you have any animals in your class?"
"No."
"Are you getting any?"
"Yup."
"What kind?"
"Uh...polar bears, I think."
"You're getting polar bears as pets for your class?"
"Yup." [very decisively said, too]

So there you have it. Stay tuned for photos.

Bodysnatchers Needed

We've just returned from a smashing little party, and are sprawled out in our jammies, watching Pingu.

Pingu's little sister, Pinga, just farted in the bathtub. These Swiss claymation artists are so, so trashy. That's why we love them.

Anyway, what a week this is. Monday, Iain puked. Tuesday, Charles and Devin went skiing. Today Devin departed, Courtney babysat, and we went to a grownup party. Tomorrow I have a holiday event for school, Friday we have dinner and a basketball game, then Saturday we're headed up to Park City to watch my ski racing students.

Yesterday a student asked me, "Is there a drink that can keep you awake for ten hours?" I told her no, but I understand why she wanted one...

BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS.

Because...drum roll please...our girl Callie has a little sister!

We're a little late on this one, but the lovely Callie has been joined in her nest by a tiny sibling, Miss Reese. The new BabyBizzle looks a lot like Callie did, so we expect she may also grow up to be a gorgeous, small, version of her Auntie Suzie.

In any case, as much as we need an energy drink, I'm betting everyone at Chez Bizzle needs one even more. We wish we could be there to help with the early-baby-craziness.

Puking, Secession, Zombies. Not Necessarily in that Order

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Ah, Jon Stewart I do love you so.

In other news, today a student brought me an apple pie. And another one brought me cookies. And two more gave me a thank-you for chaperoning: a gift certificate for gelato. I think my students want to fatten me up.

Iain stayed home from school today because he threw up his breakfast. After a droopy morning, though, he took a good nap and had a nice evening. Our fingers are crossed for tomorrow to be healthier.

We're currently hosting Charles' high school roommate, Devin. The two of them have been skiing twice already at Alta and plan to spend tomorrow at Solitude. Devin's ski experience before Saturday? Zero. Devin's plan for tomorrow? Blue runs. In other words, as usual he's a natural. When they're not skiing, they're downstairs playing board games and watching sci-fi/zombie/girl hero butt-kicking movies.

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells...

I can't attest to the quality of the product, but I am delighted by the approach. Zazzle.com carries T-shirts with Ambrose Burnside's picture. And Thomas Nast cartoons of the mourning for Lincoln. And about a million other historical stuffs. On T-shirts. Because when you're a dork you want to fly that freak flag and fly it high, baby!

Psst! You can even get one with Charles Sumner's image on it. Not joking.

In other news, I chaperoned the Harry Potter-themed stomp (dance) last night. My job was to prevent shenanigans in the bathrooms. I proved wholly unnecessary, since everyone seemed to want to use the bathroom for its usual purpose.

Gah!!!!!

Look, Mom, it's Crazy Thursday!

Thursday. Who knew?

The day started at 2:38, when Iain got up and called for me. He wanted to "play quietly" with me in his room. No. Not at 2:41am, young man.

After two iterations of that, he wanted to come sleep with us. Fine. That meant one hour of him laying right up against me, poking my back with his elbow, then an hour or so of him sleeping like Pippi Longstocking (ie, head at the bottom of the bed, feet by our faces), followed by the last hour in which he cuddled right up against Charles' back and forced his father to the very edge of the bed. At 5:55 I just got up.

Iain to school, me to school, teaching, morning meeting, more teaching, then a lunch meeting with two unexpected revelations, more teaching, and more work. I had to explain to a student that while I am aware that 16-year-olds use the F-bomb, I don't think it's a great idea for him to do it loudly in the hall. He was all, "But it's you, not [the principal]" and I was all, "How do you know he's not in my room, meeting with me?" Doh!

Did I mention that today is the day the students decorate the school for the holidays? They spent 2 hours making an unholy ruckus while duct-taping (yes) strings of lights to the walls. And wreaths. And an entire tree in one hallway. It's festive, for sure.

Then to get Iain, then home. Mischief managed? Hardly!

First, Boris tracked in poo. So that meant a foot bath for him and a Total Immersion Scrub Down for the bathroom. Then it was laundry, kitchen, dinner, laundry, bath time, clean up the guest room for Devin, and bake a cake.

Yes, bake a cake. We have a social engagement tomorrow and I need something to bring. Apple cake, if you must know.

Now Iain's in his room (not sleeping) and I'm finally sitting down, apron still on, waiting for the cake to finish, to switch the laundry, to collapse into a torpor.

I don't know why people complain about Mondays. I'd take Monday back in an instant. It was easy.

Hats

"So, Iain, what will you dream about tonight?"
"Hats."
"What kind of hats" [Fool]
"Fireman's hats!!"
"Oh, of course."

Busy as usual around here. I finally got my hair cut - maybe 3 inches off, with nice deep layers to help it curl. And we have a dentist's appointment for Iain - it's his first so stay tuned for the report.

Tomorrow I will make an appointment with a new pediatrician, I hope. The plan was to accomplish this today, but after ten minutes on the phone giving demographic information

["Can you give me his social security number?" "No. He has one, but I don't have it on me and we're just making an appointment so you don't need that right now." "Can you spell that middle name?" "Xavier. X.A.V.I.E.R." "Ok, X.A.Z.I.E.R.??" "No." etc.]

the young lady revealed that - Oops! - she couldn't make an appointment because Dr. Awesome isn't taking new patients. Grr. We got a referral from another source and will try again tomorrow. After that, I have to beard the current doctor's office to ask for Iain's medical records to be sent. Given that we're moving pediatricians because we can't stand the staff at our current doctor's office...it won't be pleasant, I think.

But my hair looks cute, so that's something.

Winter Garden

On Sunday we needed an outing. Needed it. So we headed up to Red Butte Gardens, where you can wander around smelling the pines and contemplating snow. Iain sat on the little wooden seats in the meditation pavilion:

It's child-sized, and in spring/summer the vines cover the walls and roof.

Iain was excited by it. He liked everything, though. The snow, the sunshine, the berries and foraging squirrels and dripping icicles all met with his approval.

Of course, he refused to nap that afternoon. But I'm not bitter. Not at all.

Conversations

Oreos are good because "Chocolate! They fell letters and had milk and cookies."

Also, Iain would like to help you clean the bathroom, but "I too busy brushing my hair!"

Educational Update

Iain's report card today said this:

Iain has finally come around to the idea of snow! He has not really played with it yet, but he was carrying an ice cube around with him today.

Learning, and growing, y'all. And ice cubes. Or something.

Soon, perhaps he'll be able to do this:



It's been a crazy week. We're out of food, I have three social engagements and at least five errands tomorrow, and Iain's laying in his bed (at 9:11pm), singing the alphabet song.

TONY!

How about this cutey-patootie little video featuring a brief glimpse of our man in Milton Keynes?

LOVE HIM! And, hey - SmartCars are cute, too.