stuck

The other night I was home alone with the boys and it was bedtime. I sent Calvin to go potty because I was in the middle of changing Ollie, who was having a meltdown. Normally I accompany Calvin to the potty, so as soon as I was done with Ollie, I went to check on Calvin. The bathroom door was closed, which was odd. I went to open it and my heart sank when I realized it was locked. My baby had locked himself in the bathroom! I called his name and then heard his muffled little voice on the other end. I almost panicked, but decided that would get me nowhere. Instead I hopped up and grabbed the lame key-thingy they give you. I twiddled and fiddled and tried my best MacGyver, but had no luck whatsoever.

I called John's parent's house.

No answer.

I called Stein and Natasha, who live a little ways down the street. Stein was snoring(yes, snoring) and so Nat and Jenn said they would be right over.

In the meanwhile, Calvin is starting to fuss. I kept putting my fingers under the door and he would hold onto them. I stuck a cracker under the door. Just knowing I had his fingers was enough to keep me calm. I started working on the door again, but had no luck. I tried so hard, and I thought there was noooo waaaay Nat was going to be able to open it. I considered calling the fire department. I had a flashback to when my friend Katie's little girl, Camden, got locked in the bathroom. Do we really need locks on our bathrooms?? Can't we just use little signs that read "occupied"? Calvin started whimpering "I'm sared"(scared), and I started to feel a little ill.

Natasha and Jenn arrived, and in 1 second flat, Nat had the door opened.

Are you kidding me?

I should not have been surprised--Natasha can figure out anything. She is amazing, and I was so grateful. Thank you, thank you Natasha. Apparently there is a little technique--you need to put the key in perfectly straight (not to an angle) and turn left. Good to know.

I hugged Calvin and was never so happy to see my little mop top. Well, that was the talk of the town at our house that night. At bedtime Calvin prayed "thank you Jesus for Miss Natasha that she got me out of the bathroom".

*******************
The next day I was retelling the story to Gretchen and Mike when they stopped by to bring Calvin a splash cymbal. I told them how worried I was that Cavin would fall in the toilet when he locked himself in there. Mike was like, "you really think that could happen?", just as Calvin fell headlong into a cardboard box.

and put his foot through a hole in the box.

Yah, I think I had plenty reason to be concerned.

This is sooo prime example of my Calvin Jack.

tagged by Talia

I was recently tagged by fellow blogger Talia. Sorry it took so long Talia, but croupy boys + new computer system = delayed post. (we just got a new mac-daddy monitor)

Here are the rules:

(1) Link to the person who tagged you.
(2) Post the rules.
(3) Share 6 non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
(4)Tag 3 people.

Here goes nothing:

(1) I can't parallel park to save my life. Last time I tried, I pulled my Jetta back and forth into the spot a dozen times until a small crowd on onlookers gathered. I gave up in embarrassment, and when I got back to may car later on I had a parking ticket because "the tail end of my car was parked farther than 3ft from the curb".

(2) As you may know, I love all things candy, including it's cousin the cupcake. I have remnants of this scattered all about my house.

And guess who's finally coming home with me tomorrow?

(3) I plunged over 200 toilets the summer of 2005 as a midnight toilet plunger at Hume Lake. Our crazy crew had a tee-shirt of a man rappelling into a toilet with a plunger in hand and clothes-pin on his nose. The shirt read "It's not a Job, It's a Nightmare". Wonder whatever happened to that shirt...

(4) Speaking of shirts, I ♥ vintage tees. I could wear jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers every day of the week. Here is a little shirt I'm scoping out for Finn, but it's out of stock and probably discontinued.

(5)When we 1st got married, John and I temporarily lived with a trucker named Ritchie. We got married over spring break at APU and had just one month left till we could move into married housing. Ritchie was suppoed to be on the road the whole time, but he broke some ribs and came home early. He had a plumber's bum and brought a crazy lady home with him and he yelled at us if we left dishes in the sink. We were so scared of him, we moved back in with our old rommates and spent the 1st month as a couple apart. We were too young, clueless and busy cramming for finals to think to rent a place for the month. So sad. You can bet how excited we were to move into our very first tiny apartment though!!

(6) In my chem nerd days at CSUF, I worked with my boss on his textbook. I was in charge of all the 3D molecular art. Here are a few samples.

table salt dissolving in water

chlorophyll found in plants.

I recall spending all memorial day cooped up in my office trying to make chlorophyll, while everyone else was out bbq-ing. NEVER AGAIN.

Gosh I remember being obsessed with these orbitals.

Orbitals were my favorites. I will torture you no further, but this oughta teach you to tag me again:)

Ok, now I tag

(1) Lorie

(2) Jenn

(3) Gretchen

drums for real

If I said that the grand debut of the drum set has been easy, I'd be lying. It has been a huge adjustment. It started off as exciting as I'd hoped--Finn jumping for joy, wild with glee, in 7th heaven. As we opened each box, the chaos grew and things took a turn for the worse. Basically, Finn and Calvin were running completely amuck, causing John great difficulty in setting the drums up. To make things worse, John discovered we were missing some MAJOR pieces: a drumhead for the floor tom, both drumheads for the bass drum and the pedal for the bass drum. We called the company and they will be sending us those missing pieces. In the meanwhile, John pieced together the drum set as best as he could while we wait for the brown truck yet again. The drums are enormous, and totally not to scale with my wee little Finn boy. On the plus side, they are quite beautiful and we were able to temporarily squeeze them into a corner of the family room. I eventually want to sell the pool table and use the space for a funky music area.

The night before, we gave Calvin the electric guitar he had been saving for. Calvin loves it, and so do I, partly because the size is so to scale with him.

this corner can't be used for time-out anymore!

As Finn started drumming away, I started to panic that the neighbors were gonna call the cops on us...or that we would all go deaf, the pounding was SO LOUD. I sent John to Guitar Center for a "drum mute set", something I should have purchased beforehand. Instead, he came back with light drum sticks called roots, that were supposed to muffle the sound. NOT SO! So I'm cooking dinner and the noise is so loud, I can't even talk to John without using sign lanuage. I ended up hiding in my room, leaving behind a half-cooked dinner. When I emerged, John was taking the drums apart, threatening to put them in the attic, with Finn sobbing on the floor. That was the low point. We all calmed down and decided to give this drum thing another chance, with lots of rules...and we needed the mute set ASAP. John went back and got them, and I've been smiling ever since.

These things make me so happy. I think I said that a dozen times that night. Oh those poor mothers who must have suffered cruelly before this handy invention. They make all the difference in the world and are able to reduce ear-splitting pounding into mere pleasant thumping. As happy as I am, we still have some issues to deal with. Mainly, the boys are fighting over the drums constantly. Calvin hops onto Finn's throne every chance he gets. They just get so bent out of shape.
We are working on sharing better.

fighting for the throne with their drum-sabers.

But Calvin has been so funny, trying to put all their old drum stuff(cardboard cymbals, spatulas) onto the new set. I guess you can take the boy out of the ghetto, but you can't take the ghetto out of the boy:)

Finn wanted to watch the Tommy DVD, but the remote was set to mute and so no sound came out of our TV. Finn accused the "drum mutes" of making Tommy mute too.
So, this is my new life.

All in a days work!

***************Addendum*****************

I know that I said that my next post would be on Finn's new drum set, so just consider this an addendum to my previous post. John came home this evening with an envelope addressed to "Mr. Finn Erickson". Inside the envelope was the following anonymous letter, with 3 bucks enclosed.

John thinks it's from one of his students, who also goes to our church. He is a drummer himself and so he is one of Finn's biggest supporters. His friend brings by their 2 bottles to John's "recycling for drums" box every day. How cute is that! In class yesterday John announced that Finn had only $2.50 to go, hence the 3 bucks in the letter, we presume. Thanks cute anonymous person!

dueling ghetto drum sets

Vrooom...Knock Knock... Sign Here__________ ... Vrooom...and away the brown truck went, leaving behind some very special boxes.

These boxes were delivered to John's parents house, begging to be opened. But, Finn still had $15 to go. People were like "for crying out loud, let me give Finn the rest of the money already" but John was being all strict and said NO.

John's mom set up a "recycle for drums" box at her work too. His dad even set up a jellybelly-for-spare-change dish at his place of employment. I think they REALLY want the drums out of their garage, no? In the meanwhile, the practice sessions at home are becoming more and more militant. I try to clean up their make-shift sets at night, stuffing them into their toy box and the armoir.

Then, I awake to this remarkably SAME setup every morning. It's pretty amazing how this little set seamlessly and purposefully pops back together after mass demolition the night before.

Exorbitant amounts of duct tape sacrificed for the cause.

( note wee baby off to the corner)

One morning they started paractice at 6:15 a.m. and I had to call the cops daddy on them for disturbing the peace.

Last night, Finn finished raising the rest of the money. He did it! This afternoon when I asked him to clear his lunch dishes off the table, he said, " I don't need to do my chores anymore -- I already have enough money for my drums". Oh boy, we had to have a little chat about that.

Tomorrow, John is going to set up Finn's new drum set. I'm feeling rather nostalgic about the end of this era, so I thought I'd better document their little dueling ghetto drum sets together one last time. *caution:lower volume if you are at work*

jamming with Tommy

counting with Tommy
The next time I post, there will be a big black monster of a drumset in my house. I will let you know how I feel about that. So far, I feel a sense of impending doom:)

cake day

The last few days have been a hectic kind of fun. It all started with my mom coming up for a visit.

She couldn't get over the fact that Finn and Calvin could literally sit and drum studiously for hours on end with Tommy. What a good Grandma she is, listening to them drum and encouraging them. We had fun shopping at my favorite local kids store, with a reluctant Finn in tow. I returned some stuff and used my store credit for this unexpected purchase.

a cake clutch.

I had no intention of buying a purse that day, but it was the most peculiar bargain. It had a slight blue blemish, so they sold it 50% off, for $33. However my sister Jessica says it actually retails at around $105. I have not bought a purse for myself since my plastic barbie-pink purse in high school!! Jessica likes to see a picture of a person holding a purse, to make sure the scale is correct. So, here is a picture of me carrying it.

So Jess, is it to scale? I have no idea of such things since I'm no purse connoisseur.

This handy little clutch is made for moms of tots(love the word tots for our munchkins!) It comes with the following features.

plastic wipes case


canvas changing pad

even has a coin purse

However, it's also meant for the evening out. So, I took this little number for a little test drive out to Starbucks with some of the girls. I walked in the door and laughed when I saw that Lorie, Ellie and I were all wearing yellow shirts.

I guess I was not the first person to spot this purse. Christie almost bought it friday, but passed it up cuz she's practicing being fiscally responsible. Good job Christie! Lorie eyed it, but consoled herself with the fact that it did not have better handles.

After coffee some of us went shopping at Target. Soon it was just down to the 3 of us in yellow shirts, roaming the aisles like clones. Ellie and I tried on some fantastic brown pants but thankfully they were too long--we did not want to fork over the dough! Lorie was trying on a bathing suit, complaining about the fit, but Ellie told her she looked so cute like a mermaid. You're always cute to us Lor! To top off all this fun, when I picked up the boys at my MIL's house, they had picked me the loveliest flowers. My MIL has the green thumb--the only flowers at my house come with weeds attached.

Sam I Am

My friend Christie has this adorable little baby named Sam who has the most incredible hair.

She always does it so cute and my favorite is his casual punk style, which he sported to church yesterday--it's half mohawk, half mop. Ollie has been working very hard growing hair and last night when he awoke for a midnight feeding, I noticed a strip of hair on top getting a little thicker. Almost thick enough for a Sammy-style hair do.

Sam I Am

Look at my 2 teeth!

© is for copycat

I am totally unashamed of my blatent attempt to swipe Sam's hair style. Mostly because we weren't even close! Instead, Ollie looked like a little chickie that just hatched. I think I will leave the baby punk to Sam&Christie, and stick to what I know best:

mop tops

Oh and by the way, my little chickie is starting to get to his knees in the rocking motion. He is going to be a happy camper soon, when he can crawl all over and get into all the boys' drum stuff.

The not-so-happy camper in the meanwhile:)

the mini mac

In our undergraduate days, John and I were both Mac users. Then somewhere along the way, John bought a PC, because they were more affordable. But I remained loyal for many years to my Macs, mainly because that's what my boss bought for me. And plus, they were prettier. I eventually caved and started using John's PC. However, just 2 weeks ago, John ordered this shiny white pearl of a macbook. He donated his old gray del laptop to me, which he spilled OJ on and now the "u" doesn't work. I'm happy enough with it, but I don't think Finn is too impressed by it. He's much more smitten by John's new shiny white macbook.

Introducing...

the Paper Thin Mini Mac®

A Finn exclusive.

It's skinny enough to fit in even the smallest child's backpack. Isn't it cute?

Just like daddy's

This picture sooo reminds me of John....

and my dad, with the pencil behind his ear.

I tried to get Finn to smile, but he was much too serious and had far too much work to do to play silly games with me and my camera.

clicketey clack clack clack.

Tag, You're It!

I was digging through my hope chest, trying to convince myself I wasn't completely devoid of sentiment (my last post said gimme $, not flowers). I had to laugh when I came across this index card John gave me our 1st Christmas:

I guess some things never change:)

However, I did feel much better when I came across these lovely flowers John painted for me when we were first dating.

He had picked the brightest yellow flowers from the side of the road,

on his way back from Hume.

Then, as I rooted through my box of souveneirs, I came across a bunch of loot from our early days of college. I'm not too sure who started it, but we played a game of tag that lasted over a year. John's very 1st tag was a banner over my college dorm door that read "Tag You're It". I think my response was this pitiful little note I slipped into his chem lab drawer.

It started out simple, but grew a little more elaborate as we tagged each other back and forth. Here are a few of the "tags" I made. In case you get confused, I was the "weird cat" (or girl in triangle dress) and John was the "tom cat".

sock/crocheted tom cat, that I tagged John with.

I was terrible at crocheting--my scarves always twisted and curled, like this cat's tail.

I made the necklace and wood-burned-sign at Hume the summer we worked there together. Here are a few of John's handiworks.

paper dolls and cats

landyards he made at Hume--the girl is supposed to be me:)

John's most elaborate tag involved this lamenated bound book.

I also found a box of old Valentine goods that we made. My boys had a hay-day playing around with all our stuff.

cards from my pre-scrapping era and a heart from my pre-sewing era

I also found reminents from a complicated scavenger hunt John engineered for our 1st Valentines Day.

clues everywhere

an entire box of Valentine's cards to spur me on each step of the way.

The scavenger hunt ended in Smith Hall with a spaghetti dinner with roomate Andre serving us in a tux.

So John, if you're reading this, Happy Valentines Day and
TAG, YOU'RE IT!!!!!!