Toddler accounting

Yesterday, Tim could count to two. When playing hide-and-seek, "one, two, one, two, one, two...". When counting down for a jump or a slide, "one, two... [jump!]" Etc.

Today, out of the blue, he counted to ten. He was counting the stars on his ceiling: "one, two, dee, doe, die, di, den, ay, nine, ten!" Ironically, there are actually only two glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling.

I said "Wow Tim! That's amazing! I'm so proud of you!"

He said "Dat amading!"

Then he sang the Three Blind Mice: "Two blind mice, two blind mice, dee how dey run..."

Which, in the context of his previously displayed numerical brilliance caused me to laugh hysterically, which cause him to laugh hysterically, thereby setting back sleep time by a good 10-15 minutes. Well worth it.

Bad day gone good

By all rights, today should've sucked. We woke up this morning to discover that the refrigerator wasn't working; the fact that both the milk and cream were already sour told us that it had likely been failing for days. (Which would explain the previously inexplicably too-soft ice cream the past few nights. Retrospective lesson: kids take way more ice cream per serving when it's really easy to scoop.)

So, drinking black coffee (espresso at least; it was still pretty tasty, though we drank so much more of it), we spent the morning unloading the contents of the fridge to the freezer downstairs (it's new, another benefit of buying a side of pork!) and a cooler. And wondering if we'd be able to get it fixed (how soon?!), or need to go shopping for a new appliance (an even lengthier process).

Then, it's the first beautiful day out in ages, but we have to stick around the house for the repairman to come.

And later, Tim went down for his nap as usual. And slept for exactly four minutes. Cheating Mommy out of her two-hour "break". (The time during which I normally eat my lunch, make supper, fold laundry, get ahead of the burgeoning clutter-disaster. Etc.)

Sounds like a disaster, right?

But jeez, if all the kids weren't great moods first thing in the morning. Tim had slept ALL NIGHT (a rarity these days.) There was happy happy, frolic frolic; they were practically daring us to be cranky. Tim with his "villain" face and voice, motioning with his fingers saying "Coooommme to me, git-a-car".

And hey! A repairman is coming! Within hours of the breakdown! Sweetie McPie had found some back door to an immediate appointment, and dude even spoke English. Sort of. He was from Abitibi and had a crazy eye, but was a 60 year old rocker and appreciated Tim's Cute.

Then, stuck indoors with no nap in sight, Tim and I got up to shenanigans. Or rather, Tim shenaniganed, and I took pictures.

Left alone with the kleenex box: "Mommy, I got lots!"

Playing doh. Kid can hold this squat for hours.

Trying on Mom's glasses. Very studious, no?

A little bit of core workout on the "liday backet bah".

And my very favourite, his own invention: Elevator in a Can*!

Beyond the ridiculousness of him being able to actually fit in this can, I love the fact that he's got no pants on. (Seriously, he was pretending he was in a hotel elevator. Later on, he went for a bucket of ice.)

The day went on to include a stroller run to the grocery store to replace the bad milk (Tim had a mini nap on the way); a delicious** and hitch-free supper; and all kids being chatty at supper time and cooperative about lunch-making (actually, this is not a surprise).

And I painted my nails. Constance picked out a funky lime green colour from her massive collection. I tried to take a picture to complete this narrative, but all the pictures made my hands look old and gnarly. And this is supposed to be a happy story.

So I'll end it here: not too late to go to bed and do some reading.

* Constance's laundry basket. This very same can -- from Ikea c. 1991-- also served as my laundry basket when I was a teenager. An heirloom!

** Rice pasta. I'm still off the wheat.

P.S. The fridge is fixed. It was a small flukey thing that didn't cost a lot of money. AND I CLEANED THE DAMNED THING. Fridge, freezer, inside and out. That, perhaps, is the point of this story.

Backyard (in)fertility

This is the only thing that grew in my garden this summer.

Besides having no siblings, it also refuses to grow any bigger.

Magical cookery skills

Ben just returned to the pot to help himself to another bowl of chili. He told me, "Wow, it's super good." (I haven't tried it yet; he's eating early so he can go off to kin-ball.)

I told him it was vegetarian. He said "What? There's no meat in it? It tastes SO meaty."

Slurp, slurp, chomp.

Ready to go to the Ball

What happens when you leave a two-year old boy alone with a 13-year old girl.

Rather elegant, wouldn't you say? He's even nailed the nonchalant princess pout.