I love McDonalds

It sounds cool to talk about all the interesting, ethnic foods one likes. Its especially impressive when you talk about all the "good for you" things that you like. When you naturally lean towards veggies, wheat germ, nuts, salmon, or, if you're really cool, you're vegan.
I like McDonalds. I like fries. I like burgers. I like bacon. I like steak. I like Snickers and Twix and ice cream and caramel sauce and anything with caramel in it. I like pizza and cookies and Cadbury Mini Eggs. I like fatty, salty, sweet foods.
Don't get me wrong. I do like vegetables. I do like fruit. I do like many, many things that are good for me. Especially if someone else has prepared it for me.

So, if you didn't get it by this mouth watering intro, I like McDonalds. So, sometimes I go there. When I lived in Utah and worked in Salt Lake, I was driving home to Orem. I stopped at the McDonalds drive through on a nice fall day. I ordered and pulled up to the second window seeing as how most fast food places have two windows but usually only use the second. So, very slowly, with my window down, I drove past the nice young man in the first window, and because I was in the privacy of my own car, and this nice young man was supposed to be in the second window, I enjoyed a nice, long, low and satisfying burp. A belch, more like it. Think of one of your best belches ever and then realize that it pales in comparison to my masterpiece of a belch. Now, imagine that you are sitting at your boring job at McDonalds and some lady drives slowly past you belching with reckless abandon. Really funny or really offensive? I opt for the first.

I'm really just a humanitarian trying to bring joy to the lives of the downtrodden.

Sick kids and potty triumphs

Annika and Jacob have been sick and now I'm getting sick too. I'm not happy about this. A sick toddler is inconvenient and sad, but a sick infant makes me nervous. He has a "wheeze" when he breathes and I'm glad that we're going for his 2 month visit with the doctor.

We read a bunch of potty books and have been watching Elmo and the cast of Sesame Street teach us about the joys of toilet prowess through song. We bought a little potty and we made a big deal about how cool it is. We sat and read and way before we thought it would happen, what do you think we found? Yes, that! (It rhymes with boo!) This was only 5 or so minutes after sitting down! And, this morning, first thing, even before her morning milk, she sat down and did something else! (It rhymes with whee!) She's enjoying the m&ms and I'm enjoying the progress.

If any of you aren't currently enjoying the process of potty training, you should rent Elmo's Potty Time video anyway. These songs are FUNNY! And very creative.

Here is an embarrassing story completely unrelated to sick or peeing kids. (Sorry male in-laws for girly stories.)
I was teaching the Laurels (the 16 and 17 year old girls at church.) and I opened my manual to find that my bookmark was a nursing pad. From nursing. The other adult and I laughed and laughed. The girls were surprised to find that these were needed and slightly alarmed to find that the physical demands of child bearing and rearing never seem to end! Then, yesterday at the store, Annika was emptying my purse into the cart and lost her grip on another nursing pad and threw into the path of an unsuspecting gentleman who, not realizing what it was, picked it up and handed it back to her. It's a good thing that I don't embarrass easily. That is why the theme of my next several posts will involve my silliest moments.

Cute babies, bad pictures

Superfast and short

Annika tried to drink out of a puddle on one of our walks in the woods. (kind of the woods. a bastion of trees in the middle of suburbia.) She leaned into it and John caught her just in the nick of time. This is worse than ham pudding.

She sings. Lots. And really well. She is often able to match the note when someone else is singing. If its high, she follows suit. In church on Sunday, a beautiful soloist sang and Annika joined in. Really high, really loud.
That's my girl!

Jacob continues to be cute and mostly sits, eats and poops. Kind of like a lot of us.

Pictures! Really!

Screaming kid, gotta go!

See, here's the thing

My sister and her family, all of whom I adore, live in Seattle. We get to see them fairly frequently and we were with them at Christmas. Being 8 months pregnant I would sometimes ask one of my eager nieces or nephews to get me something that I was too lazy to get. I also didn't help make dinner or clean up. Or take care of my kid. Nathan, my 14 year old nephew was making fun of me and we came up with this perfect response / request. "I would (fill in the blank), but see, here's the thing" while patting my prohibitively large stomach. I got a lot of mileage out of this delightful phrase. I tried it this past week when this delightful family came down to visit, but its just not as effective when said stomach is simply jiggly leftover baby belly fat. "See, here's the thing. I'm disgusting, so could you please do it? Or get it? Or feed my kid? Or bring me the playing cards? Or bring me the deodorant?" (Not real requests. Well, not all of them.)

Enough about my belly. Annika has a toy piggy bank which sings, counts and snorts. She, the pig, also sings a song about her piggy snout. I think any toy that can combine porcine anatomy with fiscal responsibility is truly valuable. I just wish I hadn't stubbed the freak out of my toe on this treasure this morning.

Jacob is an easy baby and nursing is going great. The problem is, I keep calling him Isaac. Hmm. I'd always liked the name Isaac and kind of assumed that I would name a son Isaac. Then, two of my cousins named their sons Isaac in the space of a week. John has a cousin named Isaac. My uncle and aunt just named their son Isaac. (Granted, they named the twin Jacob.) And, Annika's best friend, who we see several times a week, is of course, named Isaac. There just seemed to be too many Isaacs in our lives to justify adding another. And, Jacob looked like such a Jacob. Really. So, I'm feeling pretty lame that I can't call my son the right name. I keep practicing. Really.

On the subject of names. We really liked the name Luke but realized that with a sister named Annika, we were setting ourselves up for too many Star Wars jokes. Being a big fan, (of the originals) I could see someone believing that it was a deliberate homage. Now, having called my daughter Annikin at least 4 times in the past two weeks, I'm realizing that not only did we act sensibly, but we really have averted disaster, therapy and complete estrangement from our daughter for all of her teenage and adult life. (I think John has done it at least once.)

At least we feed them and recognize them amidst a crowd.

P.S. Go to Eliza B's site for pictures of us.

Pictures!

If I could find the camera. If I didn't have a nursing child on my lap while my other child wants to share said lap. If I was awake. If I wasn't spending ten minutes every hour trying to untangle my hair from amazingly strong fists. If, if, if. So, no, no pictures. Or much of a blog entry.

Here are a few quick notes:
- Jacob snorts like a truffle hunter when looking for the food source. He looks in funny places like John's elbow. Or Gran's neck. Etc.
- Annika likes to "fist bump" Jacob. Softly, usually.
- Annika has worn a hat to church the last two Sundays and wore her rain boots (Thanks Aunt Roo! She loves them!) this Sunday.
- Jacob likes to be held and wants to eat ALL the time.
- Annika likes to spin and fall down. Even if the spin doesn't make her fall down, she fall on purpose.
- John sprained his ankle playing basketball.
- I bought fresh cut tulips at one of the many local farms. They are beautiful and help me to believe that spring will come again.

I promise that I will share more pictures soon.