Daddy's Cars

For those who aren't aware, Derek collects things. One of the things he collects is cars. Hot Wheels to be exact. Has for years. We once counted them when we first got married. Probably 2003 I think. He had over 3000 at that time. Any guesses on how many he has today? That's a good story problem. Eight years of collecting an average of 7 cars each time he goes to a store that sells Hot Wheels. Let's estimate that to be 3 times per month. 

21 cars per month.... 252 per year.... an additional 2016 cars since then? I think that might be a little low, actually. 

Anyway, point of this is, Derek likes his Hot Wheels. And what better legacy could a father give his son than a love of miniature die-cast cars? I can't think of a single one. So since Roman is two, turning three in a couple months- almost a man grown, really- Derek's natural thought was that he would be impressed with his car collection. 

He was right. Roman was so impressed that he can't keep his little boy hands off of Daddy's cars now. All day long after Daddy showed him his cars I would go into his room when it got quiet and find this:

At which point I would ask him in my most serious stern mommy voice where he got that car.

And he would very honestly explain that it was "Daddy's car, huh." And he just was going to "open it and see it."

At least 5 such cars suffered this fate that day.

I finally wised up and put his box of cars in the top of the closet. 

Not to worry, though, Roman found both Derek's other stashes that I hadn't noticed over the next couple of days and just "opened it to see. It's Daddy's car, huh."

Batteries

Roman thinks everything runs on batteries. Like, anything that doesn't work when he's trying to use it is "out of batteries". As demonstrated by this conversation we had in the car this morning.

Me: Roman, get your seat belt on!

Roman: Mom, it's out of batteries!

What I love about this kid is what you can't hear in type... the overly-loud voice he uses to declare whatever he's declaring; the half-explanatory, half-pleading tone in his statements; and the drawn out pronunciation of batt-er-weez.

In addition to batteries making anything and everything work, he also thinks that any food that has been out too long is "soggy". Obviously, this started with cereal. However, it has extended to cold, dry toast, oatmeal, pasta, eggs, or any other food that has been out long enough that he either doesn't want to eat it or he's skeptical about. I suppose this is a good thing in it's own way. And the pronunciation here, too, I love.

"Mom, it's soooggyyyyy..." with the barely hit "t" in "it's" and the drawn out final word...

We're Not Poor

Driving home from the beach Friday....

Avril: Daddy, can we go to a restaurant for dinner?

Derek: No, not tonight, Avril.

Avril: Why not?

Derek: ...because we're poor.

Avril: We're not poor!

Derek: How do you know?

Avril: Because we have more than 400 money!
.... And we have lots of clothes.
.... And we live by Tripler!

I laughed and she said, "What?" and I said, "Well, you're right Avril. All of those things are true." In awe and a little bit of disbelief she said, "We really have more than 400 money? I mean, dollars?"

Not to publicly discuss the details of our financial situation, but yes, we do.

70s (& 80s) Party Zumbathon!

I heart Zumba!

First, brief back story: I heard about Zumba a few years ago and SO wanted to find a class and start it up. But I couldn't find any classes locally. So I mentally shelved it and continued with yoga and kickboxing and whatevs for my workouts. Finally, I discovered a Zumba class in Logan about 6 months before we moved, went and loved it. Became a regular there and even started coordinating fun outfits for classes. Well, ok mostly just cool knee socks. 

Flash forward about 8 months later and you find me searching for some way to get my work out on. Closest gym has me driving 20-30 minutes each direction, worse if there's traffic, and through the nose for child care. Or I could try places with more limited facilities and classes and no child care. Nothing that really worked for a SAHM of three with a husband in residency that I wanted to actually see when he was finally around. 

Enter Zumba. I found a local teacher who taught her own classes in the school gym not far from here. Not only was she the cheapest around, she was moving her class to the school gym down the hill from my house! And on top of that, she had the funnest, craziest energy that brought out the same in me.

So when I got pregnant, I kept up my soccer and Zumba for a while. Then I started getting nervous about soccer and it got more difficult to run. And I kept thinking how horrible it would be if I belly-blocked the ball. So Zumba was my mainstay. Well, that and TurboFire, which I LOVE (thank you, Camas for introducing us). 

But after a certain point (say, 7 months?), TurboFire had to take a breather, too. 

So Zumba. And weights. I credit Zumba for:

-keeping the edema in my legs at bay

-holding off heartburn

-taking the jittery out of my restless legs

-keeping my abs strong which helped suck em back in after Max was born

Seriously, aside from the weight I need to lose, my stomach is nearly as flat as it was before I got pregnant-- and it's been that way for about two and a half weeks. The kid's only five weeks old!

Not to mention even though I was a little nervous about it, I was able to Zumba only a week after Max was born, and then go to the 80s party that Thursday!

And last Thursday we went to the 70s Party! Got the dress & shoes at Savers and assembled the rest at home- love it! Although I'm not sure I'm not channeling 20s a bit here, too...

Hawai'i bff and fellow Zumba addict, Heather. We're thinking quite seriously about getting certified and teaching Zumba together!

Hot Hawai'i Nights

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New Sneakers

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Multiple Consecutive Nights Keeping Nighttime Unders Dry

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Cheap Parents

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1 Silly Xandri

Smoothie Mishap

I decided to try a new smoothie recipe. Ginger chocolate pear smoothie sounds yum, right? Well, Roman was my helper and was excited to have the smoothie with me. So we were working on it. 

And then I opened it to taste it. Huh, not so yum. So I stepped away for... I don't even remember. 

Because that was when the blender got turned back on. And the lid wasn't on. 

I scrambled to turn it off as quickly as possible, but the damage was done. 

In addition to smoothie all over that half of the kitchen, Roman was pretty well covered as well. Wish I'd gotten a pic of his hair before I cleaned him off.

I gotta say, this was one of my acting rather than reacting moments as a parents. Gut reaction was to freak out  in agitation. But instead I paused and just looked at my stunned little man. Natural consequences were all that were needed. He hadn't done it to be naughty, he was just trying to help. And he had not anticipated this as the outcome. Poor little guy burst into tears. 

"Mom, I'm all dirt!" he wailed. 

I consoled him, wiped him up, explained why it happened and we learned a life lesson about lids and blenders and not reacting to sudden giant messes that wind up taking half the morning to clean up. I love that kid. 

He recovered.