It's What We Call Hockey

Wynn calls all sports hockey. We're pretty sure Grandpa takes some of the responsibility for that. Here are some pictures from today's Division One Kitchen Table Assorted Plastic Toy Hockey Tournament.

The players take the ice.

Wynn hands out invisible pucks to all the players.

    Aerial Shot of the Action

   Boots Shortly Before Going to the Penalty Box for Standing on the Sheep's Back During Play

Yes, she is chanting, "Let's play hockey!" at the beginning.

Grandpa has a lot of explaining to do.

Ah, Muffins ...

Wynn's uncle Paul introduced her to the wonderful world of baking muffins a couple weeks ago, and it has quickly become her latest passion/obsession. 

Once we figured out that she could rarely polish off a standard size muffin in its entirety, we got out the mini-muffin tins and have been using them several times a week since.

It did take her a couple days to master the subtle nuances that distinguish a cupcake from a muffin, though. After returning from a trip to the grocery store with Scott, she proudly held up a bag of muffin mix and proclaimed with awe, "Cupcakes in here!" 

Her jobs include: pouring the mix into the big bowl, stirring the mix, helping fill the tins, licking batter off her fingers, squealing with glee when they come of the oven, and, of course, eating them. So far she's made lemon poppyseed, blueberry, and chocolate chip.

Tonight's batch was extra-special because she made them with Baba and knew they were going to be served as dessert with dinner. 

I swear this photo is not staged.

She looks so determined.

It makes me smile to see Wynn so utterly charmed by baking. I have many memories of being in the kitchen with my grandma and mom - standing up on a chair so I could reach the bowl to stir, rolling out pie crusts, chopping nuts in one of those goofy little contraptions where you pound-pound-pound on the handle, etc. I love seeing Wynn so enthralled by this simple, fond thing from my childhood. She doesn't need a pile of toys that light up and play obnoxious music at her. Just give her a bag of muffin mix and twenty minutes of your time, and she's one happy girl.

Toddler Fashion Statement

It's a top. It's a bottom. 

So, obviously, they go together.

Three Things That Have Scared Us Lately

1.  Hello Kitty: Ice Skating Princess  This innocent-looking book (It even comes with stickers!) is SO not healthy. In it we learn that boys skate fast and can jump really high, while girls are all about the fancy skating outfits. Girls are so consumed with worrying about getting their special skating dresses wet that they forget to tie their skates and fall SPLAT! But, if a girl wants to feel extra brave and get back up on the ice, all she needs is a sparkly crown to put on her head to inspire her. Seriously?! I think we'll be tossing this book and investing in a Wild jersey.

2. The Power of No  Two year-olds are expected to go through the "no stage", but we are both taken aback by the calm, certain, Jedi-like way Wynn looks at us and says, "No." She doesn't raise her voice. She doesn't whine. It's all so matter-of-fact, as if she believes it would never even enter our minds to disagree with her. So far we've been diffusing her power with selective deafness and reminders that she doesn't get her way no matter how many times she says it.

3. Thunk!  Clunk!  That was the sound Wynn's precious head made as it whacked against the wall and floor as she tumbled down the steps yesterday. These sounds were quickly followed by, "Waaaa!" I took the crying as a good sign - Well, she's breathing - and hurried down to assess the damage. No blood. No twisted limbs. No trip to the ER needed. Some hugs, comforting words, and a little Tylenol took care of it all. When I asked her if the fall had scared her, she nodded. Scared me too, Kiddo. Scared me too.

Toilet Training, Day One

1.  Generating Enthusiasm

Before basic training began, many discussions were had about how awesome it is to wear underwear. It is vastly superior to diapers, signals that one is a big kid, etc. I could feel enthusiasm about the wearing of the underwear building throughout the week. Wynn's nods became much more emphatic when the topic came up, and , on Saturday, she announced her intention to start wearing, "UHN-a-WAY-uh".  

2.  Establishing Expectations and a Common Language

Before the UHN-a-WAY-uh was put on, a follow-up conversation was had about what it would feel like if an accident were to happen. All parties agreed that it would feel, "Icky" and that it would be avoided by saying, "Potty now. Potty now," if one felt the need to go.

3.  Procuring the Underwear (Duh.)

A pack of Elmo underwear had been purchased earlier as an enticement (See "Generating Enthusiasm" above). The pair adorned with Elmo floating in a field of rainbows was chosen for the maiden voyage. "I got UHN-a-WAY-uh!" was shouted with pride. We all took a moment to admire how her clothes fit so much better without that puffy diaper.

4.  Venturing Forth

Mom took Wynn on a shopping trip, reviewing the, "Potty now. Potty now," procedure in the car and talking about how stores have bathrooms we can use. All went well. Wynn kept her cool and stayed dry through JoAnn, Etc. and lunch at McDonald's. 

5.  Trying the Public Facilities

By the time we reached Target, Mom's confidence in Wynn's ability to stay dry waned. Wynn nodded when asked if she'd like to use the bathroom, but her enthusiasm disappeared when faced with the reality of putting her bare bottom on that toilet with the black seat. Adding to the confusion was Mom's insistence that she didn't have to take the pants and underwear off to sit on the potty. Why are my pants around my ankles? She stiffened up like a board - refused to bend at the knees and/or waist. Mission aborted.

6.  Selecting New Acquisitions 

Wynn chose three more kinds of underwear to add to her collection: more Elmo ones, Minnie Mouse, and some Hanes with the random pairing of cartoon monkeys and frogs on them. That she turned up her nose at the Hello Kitty ones was a bit of a shock, but we love that the Disney Princesses don't even come up on her radar. She carried her selections to the register herself and plopped them on the counter at the check-out with great pride.

7.  Having an Accident

It was poop. It was solid. It was, some would say, inevitable.

8.  Choosing a New Pair to Wear

She went with Minnie Mouse and whatever that girl duck who hangs out with Donald is called. 

9.  Slipping Into the Familiar

After a discussion about the physics of sleep and the effects of unconsciousness on one's ability to control the bladder, Wynn readily agreed to wearing a diaper to sleep. 

So ended Day One of Toilet Training. 

Day Two involved a big pouty frown, a bottle of Resolve, and finding a poop in the washing machine.

I can only imagine what adventures will Day Three will bring.

Recent, Random Pictures

Wynn and Baba Checking Out the Sunset

This Is What Happens When Toddlers Dress Themselves

Where's Wynn?

Elmo = Rock Star

We went to the Zoo Boo at Como Park last night. Wow. It was ridiculously crowded. We trudged about a mile and a half from our parking place to the zoo entrance, got yelled at by a guy who accused us of cutting in line (No, Sir, we didn't.), and then stood like good little sheep in a crowd of people for the next hour or so. It was so crowded that we couldn't really appreciate any of the decorations or interact with the people in costume. At one point I said to Scott, "This really reminds of the Beijing airport." That is not a compliment, by the way.

The spookiest part of the Zoo Boo was the way the other kids reacted to Wynn's Elmo costume. They'd wander over to us with these zombie-like expressions on their faces, saying, "El-mo. El-mo." Very Night of the Living Dead. They all wanted to touch her, so she got pet on the head and the hands by a bunch of kids she didn't know, which was not to her liking at all. Two little twin brothers went so far as to take turns punching her as she sat in her stroller. Their mom was sufficiently mortified and apologetic, but, still. While I LOVE being a parent, I'm finding that I don't often enjoy being one in the company of a bunch of other parents and their children. 

The best part of this weekend was raking leaves out in the backyard. Wynn, Scott, and I each had our own rake. Her way of helping involved taking leaves out of the pile and putting them on the green moss next to it, but we appreciate her desire to help out. Last year she was a little too little for jumping in the leaves, so I gladly gave her a tutorial on the finer points; she got the hang of it right away.   :-)

When last we blogged, it was the day Ranger passed away, and Wynn still hadn't figured out what happened. About two days after, she and I were on the porch looking at some flowers friends had sent. I told her that they had sent flowers because they knew Mom was sad. When I asked her if she knew why, she pressed her little cheek against mine and whispered, "Ranger gone." No tears, but the beginnings of understanding. 

The next night she woke up at midnight screaming. Scott can usually calm her down just by going in her room and hugging her, but she was beyond that. I realized that she was calling out, "Mom!" and "Ranger!" I went to her room, and we all sat together and hugged and talked about how Mom and Baba don't leave. It was heartbreaking for us to hear her grieving cry again; it was just as it sounded that first night in Nanning, filled with the profound sadness that comes from losing someone you love. We've had a few moments of separation anxiety since - that I had three nights of conferences and wasn't getting home before her bedtime didn't help. We've moved on to talking about getting another Sheltie, but realize that we need to give it time.