"That's Not Food!"

I can't wait until Alex is old enough to actually play with Andy.  My eldest son needs a constant playmate.  It's not enough that he has preschool and his park district time and a couple play dates a week with our best friends, Jovie and Heather (I still haven't decided who Andy likes more- his buddy Jovie, or Jovie's mommy.  I think it's a draw, since Jovie's mommy feeds him.).  Oh no, Andy is incapable of playing alone for longer than five minutes at a time, and the new sentence that I am hearing all day, over and over, is, "Mommy, play with me." If only Andy would just play in this box all day. Much of the time, I'm happy enough to oblige Andy, showing him how to put his Elmo and Cookie dolls down for a nap ("Night, night, Elmo!") or have the Mega Blocks man go to the potty on a crudely fashioned Mega Blocks toilet.  See, I'm trying to put Andy's toys in situations that I'd like him to relate to:  taking regular, leng...

Andy's been sliding open the back door, and no amount of time-outs has kept him away from it.   I know I need to get a stick thing to keep it wedged shut, and it's on my growing list of things I have to buy from Home Depot, which I believe I began in February of 2011.  If anyone's making a Home Depot run, let me know, because I just can't seem to get there myself.  Anyway, finally today, I decided to explain to him the consequences of opening the back door, other than "You'd be able to walk out of the house and play all by yourself in the back yard and probably have the best time of your life."  I said, "Andy, if you keep opening the back door, you might let an animal in, and the animal might not be nice, and it'll be a huge problem."  I don't know why I said this, but it was the story that came to mind, and I went with it.  I stuck Andy in a time out after explaining the animal thing and relocking the sliding door.  After the time out, I...

So, apparently the tale of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is a little more complex than I initially thought.  I knew about the red nose part, the other reindeer not letting Rudy join in on their games (like Monopoly!), and then the whole saving Christmas situation by flying Santa's sleigh.  I didn't realize there was more to the story, because, really, does a story that good really need anything more?  It's got action, adventure, taunting from peers, and a situation that brings a sweet, slightly disfigured reindeer right to the brink of alcoholism.  What other components could add to such an already complete and complex tale? There's a snow monster.  I learned this while reading the story to Andy, and now his favorite Christmas character is the terrifying snow monster who sets out to eat (I assume) Rudolph and his abusive parents, who originally tried to hide Rudy's red nose as opposed to teaching self-acceptance.  Andy loves this snow monster and h...

And then there's Alex, suddenly and abruptly asserting that, at five months old, he's his own little person and HE WON'T BE IGNORED.  Used to be I could just stick him in the swing while the three of us- me, Daddy, Andy- scarfed down our chicken nuggets and corn for dinner.  He'd sit in the swing (which no longer swings thanks to Andy's heavy assed flops into the swing seat) and either nod off or just stare down at whatever doll or baby toy I'd tossed into his lap.  It worked, and it was fine.  But now, oh now Alex is not even remotely okay being dumped into the swing while the three of us eat.  He stares mournfully at us from across the room, moaning and reaching out and making sad eyes at me while I wipe ranch dressing from Andy's face.  He's calling out for me, and he seems to be saying, "How come you're not wiping anything off of MY face?" It's time to bring Alex to the table.  He's not sitting up super great yet, though, and ...