Star pupil: Kenzi and I visited the elementary school that we’re thinking of enrolling her in next year.  I liked it a lot – small class sizes in large classrooms, great location (as in Bernie can drop her off on his way to work while I hang out at home in my jammies), and 4 classes for kindergarteners that are each slightly different in their makeup.  The school hosts a creative arts magnet program and has one K class and one K/1 class that use the program, as well as one K class and one K/1 class that use the traditional program.  All of the classes focus heavily on reading, and Kenzi showed off a little by nonchalantly reading out loud from the papers the principal was showing me.  We’re applying for the arts program (African drumming?  Drama?  Silkscreening? Dance? All incorporated into the regular school day?  Yes please!) but I really liked all of the classes we visited (and the traditional K class is taught by a girl we know from church) so it’s nice to not feel pressure over whether or not she’s accepted in the program.  My goal is to get all the paperwork filled out and turned in before Christmas break.

Star athletes: our neighbor takes her 2 year old son Dash to soccer class every week, and in a transparent attempt to increase enrollment the soccer school asked their students to invite friends to a free class.  We tagged along on Tuesday and Kenzi put all those kids to shame.  I’m not being biased when I say that she was far and away the strongest and most coordinated kid out there, and followed directions way better than everyone else.  One theory is that it’s because the class was for toddlers and Kenzi only got to play because there weren’t enough students, so she was the oldest one by nearly two years.  Another theory is that she’s just that good. Kev latched onto a green and white ball the moment we hit the field and he carried it around for nearly the entire hour.  This is no less an athletic feat than Kenzi’s.  Running, stretching, kicking, sitting, playing red-light-green-light – all done while holding this miniature soccer ball with the skillful deathgrip of a wide receiver.  We may have visited the wrong sport for this boy.

Playdates galore: had Penn and Indie over Thursday morning, went to Dash’s house Thursday afternoon, went to David’s house Friday morning, went to Penn and Indie’s house Friday afternoon.  You never know how long your kids are healthy for, so we’re cramming in the fun as tightly as possible.  We had nothing planned for Saturday morning and the kids seemed a little disappointed.  But they got to have a babysitter last night while Bernie and I went to the church’s Christmas program and that was as good as a playdate for them.  As soon as I got Kenzi up this morning she fawned about how much fun she had when Miss Julia came over.  Excellent, since they’ll be hanging out with her again next Saturday when we host a KIDFREE Christmas party for our Sunday school class.  (Unfortunately, I tend to compensate for kidfree times by spilling, knocking over, or breaking things in a way that I would have scolded my children for.)

Dinner guests: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday we had friends join us for dinner.  The kids like to argue about who gets to pray for the food, which is always a big hit.   They also provide stimulating dinner conversation, such as “Want more meat!  Want more meat!” and “Mommy, is this where I’m going to sit?  Is this the chair that I’m sitting in?  Am I going to sit right here? Mommy, do I sit right here for dinner?”  (That was about two minutes into the meal, so Kenzi’s seat was well-established and she had already begun eating.)

Buying in bulk: We make a weekly Costco trip, which usually involves just buying one or two items and then sharing hot dogs and pizza in the food court.  Kev knows the route well – when we’re still a mile away he starts hollering “Costco pizza!” ad nauseum.  He recognizes that Kirkland Signature is a brand we often buy there.  So he sees the logo on something at home and associates it with his favorite thing about Costco.  Apparently we buy “Costco pizza diapers,” “Costco pizza baby wipes,” “Costco pizza toilet paper,” and my personal fav “Costco pizza soap.”

Hoping to sleep in, but planning to wake early: We’ve let Kev know that the time has come to be a real big boy and ditch the pacis.  Today after naptime we had a solemn ceremony where he tossed them in the trash can (no wussy paci fairy for us, although we were tempted by Tia’s example with the witch and the big bad bow-wow) and received a new Curious George blanket in return.  The kids are having their final snack right now, so we’re heading upstairs soon to embark on our first paci-free night with Kev.  This will also be the first Christmas since 2004 where pacis aren’t a stocking stuffer.  A whole new way of life.  Wish us luck!

We took an 8-day trip to see family during the Thanksgiving holiday.  And I didn’t once get out my camera!  Awful, awful, awful.  We got to spend plenty of time with the Gilbert fam, Casa Grande fam, and Tucson fam and overall the kids were pretty flexible about being drug around all over the place.  Before we left the kids were on a 3-week healthy streak that we were hoping would last just a wee bit longer but they literally started showing symptoms on the drive over.  Kenzi sneezed once and her nose didn’t stop running for the next six days.  Keves chose to make things interesting by tossing a stomach bug into the mix, along with a few days of waking before 6am.  But it was still a good trip and I’m really glad that the kids warmed up to everyone so quickly and got to make some great memories with their far-away family.

Kev had a huge language explosion on the trip.  For better or for worse, he can now express his inclinations quite cleary.  His number one phrase is “No like ________.”  Sometimes he meant it (“no like Belle take food!” or “no like muscle shirt!”), sometimes he was teasing (“no like be nice!” and “no like obey!”), and sometimes he was just in a bad mood from being in the car all day and wanted to make it extremely clear that he refused to be cheered up (“no like books/markers/movies/goldfish/blankey/elmo etc.”).  He also had a weird episode about three hours into the trip when he was looking at the cover of a book where Dora is holding a jug of milk.  We drove through some area filled with a disgusting cow smell.  Kev started howling “Stinky melk!  Stinky melk!” and I couldn’t do anything to calm him down.  I finally snatched the book out of his hands and let him cry a few more minutes until he was over it.  So weird.

Kenzi, as usual, soaked up all the attention directed her way and loved having so much going on.  Every night before we put the kids to bed we ask them to thank God for something from the day.  While Kev tends to keep the same one for weeks on end (“Tank Tu God, Penn Dindie, Amen” has the longest streak) it’s always fun to hear what Kenzi is thankful for.  On the trip we had things like “Thank you God that I got to have a trading day in the car!”, which means she didn’t sleep the entire drive from NorCal to Phoenix, yikes.  Or “Thank you God I got to have dinner at Tia’s house,” or “Thank you God I got to go to Wal-Mart and World Market with Mommy,” or “Thank you God I got to have pie!”

Speaking of pie, Nana and Kenzi were headed to the store to buy a pie and asked what kind they should get.  Knowing that Bernie hates pumpkin pie, Nana jokingly asked who wanted pumpkin.  Kenzi got totally excited, but I told her that Daddy doesn’t like it so we should get something that everyone liked.  Her response showed that she’s been taking notes from us: “If Daddy doesn’t like pumpkin pie, then Daddy doesn’t have to eat it.”

The only other Kenzi moment that comes to mind is when we were heading out on the 60 in the carpool lane.  Kenzi was reading all the words on the semi to our right.  Then the semi sped up and started to pass us.  Kenzi panicked and asked, “Mommy, are we driving backwards?!?”

Well, this post wasn’t very structured but I figured I should write something just for the sake of getting it out there and if other moments come to mind I’ll jot those down too.  Maybe the best way to write a blog about the kids consistently is just to copy and paste my facebook statuses at the end of each week, since that’s been my main venue for sharing about funny or frustrating moments with those monkeys.  Tonight we put up the Christmas tree, so I’ll have to post some pictures of the chaos fun involved in the kids making a mess of everything and doing stuff totally wrong and getting up in my grill decorating for the holidays.  ‘Tis the season.

Well, it’s official. We now have a two year old.

Yesterday we had a combo party with the Carbos, since Penn turns 3 next week. We kept it nice and small but when you have 8 little children under the same roof, you may as well have 30. They got along really well though and it was tons of fun. Since Kev’s 1/4 Filipino and Penn’s 1/8 Korean I joked about having an egg roll party. Then Amy and I decided that deep fried food is probably the perfect complement to sugar-laden cupcakes, so egg rolls and fried rice it was. Thanksgiving dinner is going to seem like rabbit food compared to what we ate last night.

Thomas the Tank Engine cupcakes, courtesy of Amy:

Kev was really unsure about this open flame thing.

Not at all unsure about the actual eating though:

Back story – awhile ago Kenzi started saying that Christopher is Mr. Baby Stinky Baby, Kev is Mr. Blowout (referring to disgusting diaper incidents), and she is Miss Ballet. A fair and balanced approach to nomenclature. About a week ago Kenzi told me, “On Kevey’s birthday I’m going to say ‘Happy birthday Mr. Blowout!’ and then I’ll say ‘Mr. Blowout, blow out your candles!” Ah, comic genius. Well, she was so caught up in the moment that she forgot to use her line and was really bummed later on when she realized that she missed it. So I told her that we would make banana cake (really just banana bread, and I even snuck whole wheat flour in there without anyone complaining) on his actual birthday and that she could try again. You’ll all be happy to know that she remembered the second time around.

Kenzi and the other birthday boy:

Kevey’s behavior at the party was just another reminder of how much he’s developed. I don’t think I held him until the very end, when I had to keep him from running out into the cold as his friends went out the door. He was just so happy to play, on his own and with his friends. It’s like I finally resigned myself to the fact that he’s this needy mama’s boy and that I just need to stop wishing he was more independent, but he’s slowly been branching out and I hadn’t really noticed it. I was doing the typical sentimental birthday reflection, reading old blog posts, and it was almost a shock to realize how different life with Keves is from even just a few months ago. So now I have to try and resign myself to the fact that my little boy doesn’t need me as much as he used to, and now I may end up smothering him instead of the other way around. Grass and greenliness and whatnot.

Check out Indie in the back looking all mischievous:

Our big gift to Kevey was a kiddie basketball hoop.  Check out his sweet moves:

Happy birthday, baby boy.

1. Himself, in the master bathroom, with the towel – he was pretending to be a terry-cloth ghost.  Walked backwards, tripped, and whacked the back of his head on the linoleum.

2. Mommy and Daddy, in front of the house, with negligence – A few months ago the kids chose to swap spots on the sit & stand stroller, so Kev now rides the seat in the back, facing backwards.  Yesterday we let the kids climb in while Bernie watered the flowers and I packed snacks.  Bernie and I each assumed the other had buckled Keves in, so we took off and when we hit a bump at the bottom of the driveway, Kev popped out and landed on the street on his hands and knees.  His head was spared only because it hit Bernie’s shoe.

3. Himself, at the park, with the picnic table.  Kev was sitting at the table and leaned too far forward.  His bum slipped off the bench and he fell to the cement, whacking the back of his head on the bench on his way down.

4. Himself, in the playroom, with the futon.  Kev and I were goofing around and he kept fake-laughing.  Threw his head back and whacked it on the frame of the futon.

5. Himself, in the dining room, with a dining chair.  Clipped the side of his head on my chair as he tried to run past.

Kev turns two next week.  Perhaps we will be getting him a helmet and shin guards, or some bubble wrap, or a sumo suit.  Maybe a nice soft ball pit to spend his days in.

Tonight we went to the Hembrees for a little shingdig, along with the Carbos and their neighbors Cathrine and Emma.  Along with a great dinner, we just had fun visiting, watching Dan and Bernie compete in glow-sticking, and taking the kids trick or treating.  We borrowed some cowboy vests and hats from a friend, but Keves refused to try them on.  I wasn’t too surprised since he usually protests getting dressed at all.

The Carbos brought along Penn’s old Superman costume, and we tried to convince Kev they were Superman jammies, since pj’s are the one thing he enjoys putting on.  He wasn’t fooled in the least.

Kenzi wanted to wear the Elmo costume from her dress-up box and we’re all about not having to buy new stuff, so Elmo it was.  Emma had the same costume, which was supercute but got a little confusing when we were trick-or-treating in the dark; we reprimanded “Kenzi” for trying to greedily sneak in a second turn at the candy bowl before we realized Kenzi was all the way on the other side of the porch.

In this pic Kev seemed like he was tolerating the costume but he started bawling again a few seconds later.

I tried holding him, Bernie tossed him up in the air, we tried giving him raisins – Kev refused to be comforted.  Right about this time I was begging Bernie to just take the stupid costume off already because the crying was making me irritable.

Then Krista convinced Kev to accompany her to the kitchen.  I don’t know what she injected him with but I walked in to find a whole new toddler.  He played happily the rest of the night.

Kenzi-Elmo ate nothing but lettuce at dinner.  Prepping for a night of sugary goodness.

This was the first time trick or treating for all the kids and they did really well.  It helped that we had a 1:1 adult:child ratio.  This lady gave out sugar cookies that were still warm from the oven – if we didn’t know that the Hembrees were friends with them, I would have freaked out about the kids getting something that wasn’t vacuum-sealed from the manufacturer.

Keves, shy mama’s boy Keves, kept trying to go inside her house, even opening the screen door back up after she closed it.  Superman knows the sugar cookie lady’s house is the place to be.

Tonight we get to fall back an hour – we kept the kids up late, and hopefully the crash from the sugar and the excitement leads to an easy transition.  Bernie’s being good and going to bed at his normal time so he can enjoy the extra hour’s sleep.  I might do the same, if I can keep thoughts of tomorrow’s half-price candy at bay.

Courtesy of birthday money from Tia J, I took the kids to an indoor play place last month.  We’d never been to this spot before and Amy, Penn, and Indie joined us to check it out.  Kenzi was totally enchanted right from the start – but what do you expect when a little girl walks in and is greeted by dozens of tutus and princess outfits?  She understood that they weren’t for playing but were for sale, and while it’s a nice marketing ploy, my little girl has been too deprived for too long to assume that I would buy her anything.

Dear darling Keves had to be carried into the play area, most likely because he associates big toy-filled rooms with Mommy running off and leaving him behind, and I wondered if he was actually going to play at all.  I convinced him to let me set him down at the table, and he spent the first half hour watching from the safety of the snack table.

Penn is a trainophiliac and spent about 95% of the playdate at the train tables.  Kenzi joined him for a while…

…but all the fun dress-up clothes soon pulled her away.  The stage had a video camera set up so that the kids could watch themselves on the big screen tv off to the side.  Kenzi liked this Himalayan princess gear:

Dress-up was followed by puppet time with Amy and Indie Marie (Dindie WeeWEE as Kev calls her):

Kev’s curiosity finally got the best of him and he headed to the play kitchen.  He insisted that this canned corn was soda.

He also got a little too friendly with the hand broom and dustpan.

He played on the stage with Indie:

Then he discovered the train table, and when it was time to leave I had to drag him outta there the same way I had to drag him in.

We’re going to a birthday party at this spot in a few weeks and I’m looking forward to hanging out there again.  And seeing which of my two boys actually ends up having more fun with the trains.

Kenzi and I were reviewing her lesson for tomorrow night’s Awana.  Their verse is “I am wonderfully made” so we were discussing what different body parts were created for.

Me: Why did God give you eyes?

Kenzi: Because I love Him.

Me: (ignoring sketchy theology) God is so happy that you love Him!  What does he want you to do with the eyes He gave you?

Kenzi: They’re for seeing things.

Me: Why did God give you ears?

Kenzi: So that I could listen to things.

Me: Why did God give you a nose?

Kenzi: So that I could blow out all my snot.

Mr. Keves seems to think he’s ready for a big boy bed.  His parents, however, want to hold off until after our Thanksgiving visit to AZ, since it would be nice for him to sleep in a pack&play there.  Bernie thinks we should put it off as long as possible since he will feel extremely old when our youngest is no longer in a crib.  (Don’t bother telling me there’s an easy way to remedy that – I am not entertaining any suggestions.)  As for me, I’d like to get rid of the sleepytime pacis first since it seems weird to make a big deal over what a big boy he is with his new big boy bed, then tuck him in with a half dozen binkies.  But again, I’d like to have the pacis for that long car drive south.  We’ll just have to see how this all plays out.  Kev hasn’t tried climbing out or anything so it’s not a safety issue, which is why we feel fine making him stay in there for now.  But before naptime and bedtime he’s been climbing onto Kenzi’s bed, saying “no crib,” and laying down with a stubborn look on his chubby little face.  Then he protests about going in the crib, because even though we’ve given him a pillow and tucked in a big blanket for him to snuggle under, he knows he’s still in the baby bed.

Kenzi’s ready for her bohbah to graduate from the crib.  She’s been telling us for a while now that when Kevey’s too big for his bed, he’ll sleep in her bed with her.  We’ve given her plenty of reasons why that’s not going to happen and why it’s a bad idea, but she insists that she and Kevey can share a bed without bumping into each other and waking each other up.  She tells us, “I and Kevey will jump around and squish each other, then when we’re done playing we’ll just lay down and go to sleep.”  Yes hon, you’ve definitely talked me into it now.

This morning I played a fill-in-the-blank game with Kenzi (who has returned, for now, to spelling her name like Kenzi).  I would name a family member and say “So and so likes……” and record her response.  This is what we ended up with:

Kenzi Sue likes trains.

Kevey likes toys.

Daddy likes backpacks.

Mommy likes glasses.

Nana likes giving me and Kevey a bath.

Tata likes giving Keves kisses.

Grandma likes making me a princess dress.

Grandpa likes being Mommy’s Daddy.

Mike likes peanuts.

Tia likes taking me to the zoo.

Uncle Oliver likes taking me for a walk at Grandpa’s house.

Nana C likes getting better.

Nana J likes her doggie Mosa.

What do you think, family?  Pretty accurate or what?

I hate being paranoid, but I’d rather be on the safe side when it comes to Kenzi and Kevey.  This is why I am extremely suspicious of adults who play at the park without kids.  Someone who’s alone and reading the paper or feeding the ducks – that doesn’t really set off my radar.  I just figure they wanted some fresh air, or they work nearby and they’re on a lunch break.  Or a guy and girl who are obviously on some sort of throwback-to-childhood date, where they sit together on the swings or pull out a blanket and share some ice cream while watching the kids play – not a big deal.

But if you are an adult, you are alone, and you are climbing the jungle gym – what is that about?  I’ve been seeing this a lot lately and it’s gotta be 1) that person is slightly imbalanced, 2) it’s a really pathetic attempt at parkour, or 3) there’s something fishy going on.  One skill I’ve developed as a mom is assuming the worst of people, so I will convince my kids that the other side of the playground is the awesomest place to be, or we will just leave altogether.  Weirdos.