Wrapped around her finger

On Mondays, JVL tends to work a marathon 14-hour day, because he takes care of the kids on Tuesday until I get home, and then we tag out and he goes to work (or works from downstairs). Having been together for five straight days, Cordelia keenly felt his absence on Monday. Partway through the morning, she turned to me and said, "Daddy? Home?"

Me: No sweetheart. Daddy is at work today.
CML: Sweetheart. Daddy. Work!
Me: Yes. But he will be home tonight. Mommy will be with you alllll day, though.
CML: Daddy. Miss it.
Me: You miss Daddy today?
CML: Uh-huh. Daddy. Miss it. Hold hands? Hug you.

A Very Wenzel Thanksgiving

Once upon a time, my best friend Hannah said to me, "You have to come to my house for Thanksgiving someday." Well, more than a decade later, we made it happen. It was everything I always imagined a Wenzel family Thanksgiving could be, and so much more. (For example, I never imagined that we would get to go on a garbage truck hunt--twice--through Hannah's neighborhood, or that said garbage truck would be "an AUTOMATIC SIDE LOADER, Mom, with a ROBOT ARM!" That was Cody. Cordelia said, "Garbage truck! Robot! CHASE IT!")

Cody made enough memories to last a lifetime. Here are some of the highlights:

Upon exploring (of course) the various closets on the first floor, Cody made an exciting discovery: "Grandma Robbie! YOU HAVE A DYSON!?!?!" Hannah, his kindred spirit, proceeded to teach him how to use it, concentrating on the finer points like aiming for the furniture without actually hitting it. You never saw a happier boy.

He vacuumed the whole downstairs. Some parts of it twice. He concentrated fiercely and passed more than a half hour, working hard on every surface.

Each morning, Grandma Robbie let Cody sit on the counter and help her make protein smoothies. Cody offered one (or two, or three) to everyone in the house, and learned the sequence of blender buttons immediately.

One of the funniest moments was when Robbie--who had been in Cody/Cordelia communication mode--turned to Hannah as she put marshmallows on the sweet potatoes and said, "Hannah, be careful! Ovens are very hot and can be dangerous!" I will never forget the incredulous look on Hannah's face. Robbie heard herself a second later and died laughing.


We all enjoyed copious amounts of Derek's homemade wine (and I learned the word scuppernong!). (Cordelia was transfixed by Derek, calling him "Derek! Buddy!" but burying her head in my chest or howling "MOM!" in alarm when he got too close. She loved the idea of him. We think it was the facial hair that freaked her out.) Anyway, Cody must have felt left out as we were drinking, because after awhile, he walked into the kitchen and announced, "Mommy? I think that I am old enough for wine now." I started to say no, but Grandma Robbie said, "Oh, Cody, that is wonderful. I happen to have some wine just your size!" She pulled out a little glass jar of apple juice (just the color of scuppernong!) and let Cody choose a real wineglass. He was delighted. Much clinking of glasses ensued.

Cordelia joined the fun too: "Cin cin!"

Cody and Grandma Robbie did some seriously awesome bonding.

Best of all, for the kids, was spending time in Grandma Robbie's new sewing room (which Hannah and I renamed "The Devil's Workshop"). Behold the buddies.


Grandma Robbie explained that Cody would be old enough to use the machine when he was nine years old. But in the meantime, she taught him some hand-sewing.

He was fascinated by every single item in the sewing room, examining every object and testing each spool of threat. ("Ribbons!" exclaimed Cordelia. "Throw them!") Some (I, for example) might say they trashed the room, but Grandma Robbie said it was all part of exploring, and that putting things away would be as much fun for her as it was for them to take them out. She sounded very convincing.

This was my favorite: "Grandma Robbie? What is this thing?"

"Oh Cody! Oh goodness. Well, that is called a pincushion. Let's put it over here, up high!"

I'm not sure if the Wenzels/Kriegers will ever recover from Hurricane Last, but we had one of the most wonderful, memorable Thanksgivings ever. Cordelia has been moping for "Grandma Tom--miss it!" since we got back. Cody has been dreaming of Dyson vacuuming with Aunt Hannah. The drives were long (really, really, really long). The sleeping was iffy. The sicknesses were irritating. But in spite of all the Last family challenges, it was a wonderful, warm, welcoming and truly happy Thanksgiving. People often say that friends are "like family." But they don't necessarily mean it. In this case, we are so blessed that we truly are family to each other. And that, even after three days of all of us, they still seem to want to keep us. We couldn't ask for better surrogate parents/grandparents and we only hope to be able to repay their kindness and generosity someday! Everything was amazing--the food, the company, the wine, the conversation.

But for me, this was the best of the best: just being in the same cozy kitchen as my Hannahbell.

I can hardly wait for our next adventure! Witch Doctor 2012!

"Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower”

Giggles

Bridge to Awesome

Tire! Swing! Whee!

Just Overheard

CJP: Aunt Kelly? Why are you and Mommy looking at those party dresses?

KSP: Well, because we will need to wear them next year when Mark and I have our big party.

CJP: Why are you and Mark having a big party?

KSP: Because we are getting married, and having a wedding.

CJP: Why are you getting married?

KSP: Well, lots of reasons.

CJP: Well, after you get married, will you get children?

[Kelly blushes and stammers]

CJP: Because I would like some more cousins.

Tippy Playground, Take Two

After our walk around the lake today, we played for awhile at the playground. I tried to re-create the shot of Cordelia playing peek-a-boo from last week with Cody, and then with both of them. One attempt was more successful than the other.

Getting the two of them to pose is pretty much impossible. :)

Cody scaled the wall! My goodness, he's tall...

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Rocket Man

Cody has been totally toilet-trained for nearly a year, and has been staying dry during naps and at night for several months. Excellent for the budget. But we still put him in a pull-up overnight, just in case he were to, say, sleep past 5:00 a.m. and not wake up to go to the bathroom. Ha! (Everyone says not to wish these years away; I don't, but I fully admit to longing for the day that he either sleeps past daybreak, or gets himself up quietly to go play. Since thoughts going through Cody's head = thoughts coming out of his mouth, though, we're out of luck for now. For example, a few days ago, JVL and I sat bolt-upright in bed at 4:50 a.m., when his monitor went from silent to an enthusiastic chorus of "Five fat turkeys are weeeeee....") It was much less cute than it sounds.

Anyway. Last night, he went to the bathroom and then grabbed a pull-up from the closet. He doesn't like any help at all getting dressed and undressed, but talks himself through the process ("this arm goes in that guy"..."my left leg goes in the left hole"..."the tag goes in the back" etc.) As I'm putting away his laundry and I hear him muse, "Legs go through the holes, and penis goes in the rocket."

I paused.

"What did you say, sweetie?" I asked casually.

"My penis goes in the rocket," he replied confidently.

"The rocket?"

"Yes! These are outer space pull-ups." (They are, in fact, Toy Story pull-ups, which were given to us from a friend. He's never seen Toy Story. Has no idea who Buzz Lightyear is. Neither do I, in fact, and as such had never really paid attention to the illustrations.)

"See this big rocket right here in the middle? That's how I know which is the front. It goes over my penis."

"Oh! I see. Well. That's very clever of you."

Rocket. Penis. Awkward. Just...awkward.

Pebble Playground

Monday was so gorgeous that we spent 2 1/2 hours at the playground with Violet, Kim, and Brenna ("Wie-wut! Baby! Brenna! LOVE KIM!"). It was one of the most fun afternoons ever.

And for the first time, they all loaded on the tire swing. Cordelia would not let me push--Kim's pushing was infinitely superior. : )

Kiddie Time

Through our moms' group at church, Cordelia and I have discovered something fun to do on cold winter mornings when I'm not at work! I'm probably going to sign her up for Gymboree once it gets cold, but otherwise, for just three bucks, the rec center has what they call Kiddie Tyme. (Why must they spell "time" with a "y"? I refuse to accede to that.) They fill a gym with toys and kid vehicles (and unlike ours, ones whose wheels actually turn well) and the kids can just run. Cordelia had an absolute ball--we will definitely return.

She tried out every blessed car, trike, and motorcycle. And pulled Hops around in the wagon. :)

You can't even lead the horse to water, let alone make her drink

Cody is the horse you can almost always lead to water, and usually make him drink, and look at drinking as an adventure! Cordelia is the horse that snorts diffidently at you, flicks her tail, and turns away. There will be no drinking. Fie on the river. Who likes water, anyway? She has an opinion on everything--one that is immediate and then immovable. "Would you like some milk, baby?" "NO! All done milk!" "Time for fruit: apples or pears?" "NO! Pineapple! Have some!" "Would you like some crackers or cheese?" "Crackers!" And then, when I reach for the graham crackers, "No! Animal crackers! In there! Cab-net. That one! Please!"

I think it's good we realize this trait, though as Uncle Walter said this weekend, "That's the one'll give you gray hair." He's right.

We met up with Kim and the kids at the playground today. At one point we were all on the swings, and she apparently was not satisfied with my pushing. She said, "Push you! Please push you. Higher!" I obliged, but she shook her head violently and said, "No! Kim push you!" She would have none of me--only Kim. Which was adorable. Later, and eventually less adorably, she rode the slide approximately 700 times. Then she got the cool idea of getting handfuls of rocks to throw on it, to see them slide, too. If it were just us, it might be okay, but you can't really let your kid do that with others around. So I said, "Cordelia, no throwing rocks." She replied. "Rocks. Throw them. Slide down rocks! Fast! Keep going." I said, "No, you can't keep going. No throwing rocks." She arched her eyebrow and said--I kid you not--"Why?" And not curiously. Defiantly.

I'm in for it.

Peek-a-bird!

At the playground.

(She was well-named, Mary Byrnes. She has you in her eyes, too.)

Cody's first school picture!

Cordelia, the Vampire Slayer

Just after Cordelia was born, I took her to Buzz, and one of the new (painfully young) baristas asked her name. When I answered, she said, "Ohmigod, that's so cool! From Buffy!" A little part of me died. I said weakly, "Well, Lear...and Brideshead Re..." but didn't bother finishing. I had forgotten that moment, until Cordelia picked up a giant stake at the park yesterday and started stabbing it eagerly into the ground.