Educational outing

Heather's Christmas present to Paul this year was a trip to the Cincinnati History Museum. The Museum has a Children's Museum that is really cool. Steve and I had been to the museum before to see an exhibit on the Titanic, but we'd never taken the children and had never seen the Children's Museum part.

So Friday January 11, I bundled up the kids and we headed out. The trip started with us getting out the door a little later than I wanted. The museum's hours are 10:00 to 17:00, but the children's naptime made staying for the afternoon unattractive. Then the stand-alone ATM I wanted to hit was not working, so I had to backtrack to the bank to get money for the trip. We arrived at the museum about half an hour later than I wanted, but the kids were still in good humor. I had Julia in a stroller and let Paul walk beside us.

The tickets were good for two exhibits. I knew one of those exhibits would be the Children's Museum section. Our other options were the History of Cincinnati wing, the Natural History wing, or the Omnimax movie. The movie they were showing at that time was, "Sea Monsters," and it was all about dinosaurs living in the ancient oceans. I decided that I was not interested in taking my wee ones to a giant screen film about monstrous creatures and the food chain without previewing it first.

I had heard about the massive train yards behind the museum, and I wondered if there was an exhibit associated with that. When I picked up my ticket, I asked about seeing the trains, and the fellow said, "Oh yes. You want the History of Cincinnati wing."

Sort of. The History of Cincinnati wing had a big exhibit of model trains running around a miniature Cincinnati. And it was pretty cool. Both kids really enjoyed seeing the trains move and a tiny replica of Coney Island.

Then things went downhill - literally and figuratively. Because the museum is a converted train station, the halls are the downward sloping ramps from the old station. The next exhibit we came to was about native Americans that lived in this area long ago. There were some manikins in native costumes, a little hut, trees making a mock forest and background noises like pipes, drums, and forest sounds. It freaked Paul out. The next thing I knew he was walking swiftly back up the ramp, protesting that he was not going through there.

I caught up with him and we took the elevator down to the bottom level of the wing. I hoped that once he saw some of the other cool stuff that he would enjoy the trip. Wrong. There were more background noises with the other exhibits and scenes. The room showing lathes and industrial tools used in Cincinnati's history had back ground noises of machinery and clanking metal. The mock steam boat had dock noises and city bustle noises. And the rooms were dimly lit for atmosphere. It was a little too much atmosphere for Paul. I put him in the stroller and he pulled the canopy over as far as it would go. I either carried Julia or let her wander beside me. She was oblivious to the spookiness.

We got up to a higher level where there was a well lit and quiet toy canal the children could play with, and I couldn't convince Paul to get out of the stroller. "I just want to go home. I don't want to see any more!"

Rats. I looked at the ticket to see if we could come back another day for the Children's Museum part, but the tickets were dated. We got out of the History wing and I noticed the food vendors in the rotunda. We bought some popcorn and sat for a while. The popcorn seemed to soothe Paul. After another potty break, we took the elevator down to the children's museum.

As soon as Paul saw the entrance to the Children's Museum, he got really excited, and started leading the charge. We had a blast. There was a ball pit where the children learned about pneumatics. There were blocks for building, and a construction zone. There were exhibits with scenes of children from around the world. The Mongolian child's yurt had some background noises if you pushed a button, but they were background noises of horses and cows. We can deal with horses and cows.

I let the children stay and explore and play until we were pretty late for naptime. Even so, we only saw half of what was there. We will have to go again sometime soon.

Oopsie-Daisy

Play group was cancelled today due to illness, and it was just so cold out that I wasn't interested in venturing out with the kids this morning. In an effort to keep us from killing each other or destroying the house, I opted to bake cookies with the children this morning. Mind you, baking with my children is really not very far from actually killing each other or wrecking the house, but it keeps most of the bloodshed and destruction in one room

(No, there wasn't any bloodshed.)

So I asked Paul if he would like to bake cookies with me, and he seemed to think that was a good idea. I asked him if he would like to make gingersnap cookies. I really like ginger cookies and I was angling for a reason to make them. "No, I want sprinkle cookies." By sprinkle cookies, he meant cut-out cookies that you can decorate with sprinkles. That's what his dad usually asks for too. phooey.

We made the dough and Paul helped pour everything into the mixer. I tried standing Julia on the two-step step-stool so she could help too. She didn't like it very much. As soon as I set her on it, she grabbed the front rail, and my arm and got this really wide eyed look on her face as if to say, "You're not going anywhere, right Mom?" So she spent most of the baking time bopping around the kitchen and emptying my cabinets.

We took a break to let the dough chill and then cut out stars, stockings, trees, gingerbread men (No, mommy, they're not gingerbread men. They're just boys.), and teddy bears. We're a little out of season, but Paul and Julia didn't seem to mind. Paul lost interest in cutting and sprinkling cookies after the first batch went into the oven. Julia took the opportunity while my back was turned to climb onto one of the kitchen chairs and shove a whole, uncooked cookie into her mouth.

Paul spent most of the time that the first batch of cookies was baking insisting that he wanted his cookie now. "I want to eat a star. I want to eat a star. No, I'm going to eat the boy."
After waiting for what was surely a toddler eternity (7 minutes), Paul started crying real tears because I told him that the cookies had to cool down for a couple of minutes before he had one. While the cookie was still soft and pliable, but no longer dangerously hot, I gave Paul his sprinkle-cookie-boy and Julia got a little star. Then they played and generated chaos while I finished baking the rest of the batter.

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At one point during the morning all three of us were playing up in Paul's room. I started chasing him, and cornered him on his bed where he was hiding in his blankets. I scooped him up in one of his blankets, held him upside down and started spinning. Most of the time he really likes that game, but after a moment he called out, "Mommy stop! I'm losing everything!" I lowered him down, and sure enough he had slid halfway out of his pants and his underwear. I was so dizzy I just flopped on the floor, rocking with laughter while he pulled his drawers back up. Oopsie-Daisy.

The Three-Year-Old's Mind

I noticed that the only time I mentioned the word, "authority" to my son was when he was in trouble. Usually I was trying to explain that he needed to obey my directions because I was in authority over him. Mom worried that he was going to start hating the very word authority. Mom worries.

Even, so I started looking for ways to use the word authority in a positive light. I've tried to point out that I also protect Paul and provide nice things for him, because I am in authority over him.

Lately he has been receiving prizes, little toys, for self-initiated poopee trips to the bathroom. Yesterday he earned Gordon the big engine. This is a pretty big deal. He also pulled James the engine out of the prize drawer to ogle it. Later in the day, he was hunting for Gordon in his room. I found it and handed it to him, explaining, "See Paul, I like to do nice things for you. Part of being in authority over you means that it makes Daddy and I happy to do things that make you happy."

Paul thought about that a moment. Then he looked at me and sort of sized me up and said, "It would make Julia really happy if you gave her James."

"You put 2 and 2 together there didja?"

-"Yes I did."

"Nice try."

There's no getting bored at the Kuhlman farm.

Research and Development in Huggies

Julia has been reaching some new developmental milestones. The other night she strung together a three word phrase. We were playing with some little toy monsters. I said, "Hello, little monster," and she repeated me. The pronounciation wasn't dead on, and she wouldn't repeat it for me, but it was definitely there. Here lately, she has also been imitating me when I say, "nice dry diaper." Her version is sort of like, "Ni di diee." We both know what she is talking about.

Another skill she has mastered is climbing up onto the kitchen chairs. That one sort of crept up on us. One evening I was washing dishes. When I turned around she was sitting on my seat. She thinks she's really clever to climb onto her brother's chair after he has been excused and scavenge food off his plate. Nevermind that it is the same food she just rejected on her own plate a few minutes ago. Food tastes better if it is snitched from somebody else.

Sometimes she gets this mischeivious glint in her eyes that reminds me an awful lot of Paul. It's kind of scary.

She loves to try to tickle other people. It's a bit of a role reversal for her, and she thinks it's really funny.

She picks up and cuddles her baby dolls. She has heard us say, "Awww" when we see her cuddle her dolls so much, that now she picks them up and says, "Awww."

She's probably too smart for her own good. She's just cute enough to stay out of a lot of trouble.

A New Record

When Sarah was trying to decide whether to go back to work after having Julia, vs. staying home full-time, she made a list of goals. One of these goals was to have the laundry done & put away before its time to do more laundry. This was a bit of an issue before we had kids, but was certainly complicated by the presence of the kids & the extra laundry they added to the process. While we have attained that goal on occasion, we have also fallen short quite a bit.

But let it be known that today, in the course of only one day, we successfully started, completed, folded, & put away 4 loads of laundry, thus setting a new single-day record for our household. Yeah, us!

A Vision for the Future

I realized sometime around 9th grade, while squinting to see the blackboard, that I was in need of corrective lenses. Early on I wore glasses mostly, though I did wear soft contacts some. From sometime in college till a few years ago I wore disposable soft lenses almost exclusively. But just over 3 years ago I switched to CMT (or CRT) rigid gas-perm lenses. These hard lenses are worn only at night (while sleeping) and they reshape the eye. I pop 'em out first thing in the morning and see fine all day. This has been especially nice for a number of reasons:

• I have good vision with the lenses in & out, so I see good all the time
• If I go swimming now I don't have to choose between maybe loosing my lenses or not seeing well
• I correct to 20-10 most of the time
• Much cheaper than LASIK
  

Still, with all the good, there are some downsides. Getting used to wearing hard lenses took a while and wasn't much fun. Day to day my vision can be a little inconsistent if the lenses moved around overnight. Its very rarely bad, but just the inconsistency is annoying. And of course, just the hassle of dealing with contacts is still there.

So I have been contemplating LASIK surgery so I can ditch the contacts completely. The insurance situation at my new job makes it so I could get LASIK with little to no out-of-pocket, which is attractive. My eyes have been a stable prescription for years and are very healthy, so I'm a good candidate for the surgery. And, being in my early 30's, I'd be able to enjoy at least a decade of good sight before the possibility of reading glasses might start coming up.

With this in mind, I had my first LASIK consultation visit with a local doctor (who happens to have one of the highest success rates in the country) last Monday. He confirmed that I'm a good candidate for the surgery. But because of the eye-reshaping lenses I've been wearing, I'd need to be out of them at least 3-4 months to let me eyes return completely to their old shape.

So this is my quandary right now...if the surgery is successful, even just to 20-20, its well worth it to me to not have to deal with contacts and inconsistency of vision. And more importantly, its worth the hassle of having changing vision and being back in soft lenses for the next few months. But there's no guarantee of success, of course, so is it worth the chance? Everyone I know that's done it has been glad they've done it, even though a couple of them had some initial complications.

So at this point I'm leaning towards doing it, but I haven't made up my mind yet. Please pray for wisdom for me in this decision, and maybe respond to my blog poll to help me make up my mind.

Ducky Song

Giving Paul a bath the other night, I was asked to perform, "The Ducky Song."
So I launched into,
"Six little ducks that I once knew,
Fat ones..."
"No, no, no, mommy. The Ducky song!"

"Okay, then-
'Rubber ducky, you're the one,
'You make bathtime..."

"No, no, no mommy. The DUCKY song!"

"Oh. You mean,
'Splashin' in my bath with my little rubber duck,
'my little rubber duck,
'my little rubber duck.
'Spashin' in my bath with my little rubber duck.
'He's my bathtime friend.
'He can quack -Squeak squeak squeak.
'He can splash -Splash, splash splash.
'He can blow some bubbles - blblblblblthpt
'I can quack - Quack, quack, quack
'I can splash - Splash, splash, splash.
'I can blow some bubbles - blblblbthpt"

Yep, that was the one.
And I found myself a little disturbed that I could, in short order, come up with 3 different ducky songs. Steve pointed out that I also know, "Oh be kind to your webfooted friends," and in a pinch I also could do ducky verses of "Old MacDonald," and at least one other children's song.

My brain hasn't turned to mush. It's just full of ducky songs.
Now if I could just remember where I put my keys.

Sick kiddos

The last week wasn't a lot of fun for the children. They both came down with nasty colds and ran fairly high fevers. Julia started on Monday, and Steve said that Monday night Paul felt warm too.

I took them to the doctor Tuesday morning, at which point they both acted like they felt fine and had normal temperatures. But shortly after Julia's afternoon nap, she started tossing and turning in my arms, and it was like you could just watch her temperature rise. Her eyes got dull and she got very clingy. Paul woke up with a fever that got worse as the evening progressed.

We watched a lot of movies last week. One morning, I wandered into the living room after tidying up the breakfast dishes, to discover Paul sitting on the couch staring blankly at the TV. Normally, that wouldn't be so unusual, except that the TV wasn't on. I decided if he was that lethargic anyway, we would pop a movie in the DVD player.

We were able to pick up some antibiotic for them on Thursday, and both of them have turned around really well. We even took them to church with us Sunday.

Every few months, Steve and I find ourselves with no obligations in the second service, so we took the children with us to the 8:30 worship service. That meant that Paul stayed with us through the whole service because there is no children's church program. It also meant that there were fewer children in the nursery for Julia to expose to the plague.

Paul did a pretty good job staying in the sanctuary. The sermon talked about John the Baptist's work. I drew a snake in the bulletin to tell Paul about John calling the Pharisees a den of vipers. He really latched on to that idea and by the end of the sermon, my bulletin had about half a dozen snakes in it. Paul also asked, as only a three-year-old can during a break in a prayer, "MOMMY, where is the teddy bear's HEAD?" Maybe we won't pack grahamy bears as snacks anymore. And we got home early enough that the children's nap times were not disrupted. It was really all very relaxing.

Julia started feeling better before Paul. She pressed her advantage to pick at him while he was down. Maybe we can work on developing that nurturing side that girls are supposed to have.

Battle of the bed

We've had some rough times here on the Kuhlman Farm with convincing the children when it is appropriate to SLEEP.

Paul's troubles are mostly during nap time. I think he is just not tired enough when we put him down. I am loathe to lose my personal time when both kids are down for their naps. But Paul consistently plays in his room for at least an hour before he actually goes to sleep.

We've established the rule that he can have one stuffed animal in bed with him, and no other toys. One day I went in to check on him because he was making too much noise, and I found 4 stuffed animals in bed with him. I told him to pick one, and I would put the rest away. He picked the rooster. A minute after I got back downstairs I heard, "COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO. COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO."
I raced back upstairs with my mean mommy face firmly in place. I snatched the rooster and said, "Here! You can have the wombat!"
It was blessedly quiet after that.

Another time, I went up there to check on him, and I discovered that he was wearing his sock puppet. And nothing else. "Sweetheart, I don't think that's how Aunt Carrie tucked you in. Let's make a compromise. You have to wear your diaper and pants, but you don't have to wear your socks and shirt for nap time."

He agreed to that arrangement. Half an hour later, when Steve went to check on him, Paul was wearing his T-shirt. I guess it's good that he is figuring out how to dress himself.

I just need to run that boy harder in the mornings.

Julia on the other hand, has been battling naps and waking up in the middle of the night. She'll initially lay down well enough, but then she wakes up too early. For naps she really battles going back to sleep.

At night, she's been waking up at 2 a.m. Here's what that might sound like:

02:00
"Waaa."
"It's okay Juila. Mommy's here. There, there." I rock her for a moment, and she's quiet. She doesn't smell bad. I put her down and tenderly cover her up.

02:20
"Waaaaa."
"Julia, honey what's the matter? Here, let's change that diaper." The diaper doesn't feel particularly bad, but I change it.
While I'm changing it, she says, "Potty. Potty."
"Do your really need to go potty?" I pick her up.
"Nose! Eyes!"
"Are you just spitting out anything you can say that you think will help keep me from putting you back in bed?"
"Thbpt." And I lay her back in bed and carefully cover her back up.

02:50
"Waaa, Mommeee, Mommeee, Waaaa."
"Steve, it's your turn."
"What's wrong?"
"Julia was acting like she was teething today. Maybe she needs some ibuprofen."
Steve rattles around in the medicine cabinet, hampered by the fact the the dosage is listed in teaspoon, and the only droppers we have upstairs are marked in milliliters.
I remember Steve coming to bed, but have no memory of him returning Julia to bed.

03:10
"Waaaa, Mommeee, Waaaaaa, Daddeeee, Daddy, Dadeedadeedadee, Waaaa"
"Julia, for heaven's sake! What is wrong."
I whip her out of bed, and she is quiet as soon as I have her up. I give her a dose of Mylicon drops and dump her back in bed. She stands up crying.
"No, Julia. No. It is time for sleeping. Lie down."
She flops down and I throw the blankets over her.

03:20
"Waaaaaaaaaaaa, Waaaa, Mommeee, Waaaaaa, Daddeeee, Daddy, Dadeedadeedadee, Waaaa"
"Julia, lie down. No, it is not time to get up."
Crying and stomping of feet.
"No. No up. Lie down. You have to lie down."
I throw the covers over her and storm back to bed.

03:30
refer back to 03:20.

06:40
"Cock-a-doodle-doo. Cock-a-doodle-doo."

A Valiant Effort

Grandma Kuhlman and I made a valiant effort to take the kids to see the lights at the zoo after Christmas. They had seen the lights at the zoo with Grandma and Grandpa Hughes and had really enjoyed it. They were both sort of awed.

So we bundled up the kids really warmly on the evening of the 30th and drove the 50 minutes to the zoo. The ride down was a little entertaining in that Julia was babbling and singing for a fair stretch of the journey. Paul sat silently, zoning out the window. Then we got stopped in a line of traffic.

At first I thought, "Surely we're behind a stopped car. This couldn't possibly be the line of cars trying to get into the zoo."

Could it?

Oh rats.

As I waited in line to make the left turn onto the road with the zoo, a number of other cars tried zipping past the line on the right. The problem was that there were parked cars blocking the right lane a little ahead of us. And so I chewed on whether to give the zippy cars the benefit of the doubt and assume they just wanted to go straight through the intersection ahead, or whether to be bitter and assume they were just trying to get ahead of us. I let one or two cars back into our queue, but mumbled, "If they turn left to go into the zoo, I'm going to..." remember there are small children in the car, "...I'm going to spit on their bumper."

To which Paul finally spoke up, "Mommy, don't spit on their bumper."

I didn't.

In any case, there was a huge line of cars coming from the opposite direction, also trying to turn into the zoo, and I just couldn't face that kind of a crowd with my little nippers. At the last minute, I decided to go straight through the intersection and skip the zoo. Grandma and I called to the kids, "Look quick - there go the zoo lights."

And after being so good in the car so long, the kids started complaining. Poor Julia, all stuffed in her snowsuit and hat this whole time, started a refrain of, "Up, up, up, up, up, up, up. Out, out, out, out, out, out."

I started entertaining them as well as I could by reciting nursery rhymes. I think we repeated 4 verses of Jack and Jill, and 4 verses of Hickory Dickory Dock about a dozen times. I promised the children that we would go to a McDonalds Playland for a special treat instead.

We drove most of the way home, and then stopped a McDonalds. For part of the drive there, Paul insisted that he would rather just go home, but he changed his mind at the last minute.

Grandma got us a couple of shakes and fruit plates to split. The kids had a blast. Paul only made it halfway up the play land gymnasium the first time. Then I went up and around the top set of tubes with him once. After that, he was completely fearless. He was running up, sliding down, and exploring new parts of the gymnasium, completely independently. There were a bunch of other kids running around and having a great time too.

Even Julia was having a lot of fun. She was a head shorter than any of the other kids running around, but the other children were mostly pretty gracious to her. One time I carried her to the top and went around the top level of tubes with her. Even though some of the tubes were made of netting, and you could see through to the floor a good 20 feet below, she wasn't afraid. Cautious, but not afraid. In fact I think she would have made it around without my help, but there were children behind us, so I kept picking her up to move her along. She even went down the shorter tube slide a couple of times. She picked up some good speed in that thing and grinned like she thought it was unbelievable fun.

What a great way to spend an evening?