Politics, China and Pachina

Our oldest son has been very interested in talking about politics lately. We started talking about the economy, why so many things are made in China, why American companies sometimes build factories in China to the detriment of America's economy, etc. . .Our little one pipes up, they build factories on a "pachina." OK, yes, this is what he calls a specific female body part. I guess time to teach him the proper pronunciation. Well, we all had a good laugh anyway!

Helmet Boy

Another post that is rather K-centric here. When K was young he went everywhere wearing a bike helmet. We got to the point where he understood he could not wear it in the water or for bed, but there were nights where I would have to let him fall asleep with it on, then take it off as he slept. He just loved his helmet. I'll never forget the first time he went to synagogue without his helmet on; people were coming up to us left and right asking if everything was good now. "Good now, huh?" Apparently, they all assumed he needed it for some reason. Nope, he didn't, he just liked to wear it EVERYWHERE. He doesn't do that anymore, but the boy still loves his helmets.

He and his brother have bike helmets, a baseball helmet, hockey helmets and ski helmets. When I went to get some ski equipment, he made a b-line for (you guessed it) the helmets; not only to the helmets, but the girls' helmets. You see at preschool (at least I think that's where he is getting it, as I have no idea where he could be getting it from otherwise) he has picked-up some very definite ideas about what girls can like and what boys can like. So, he picked out a pink helmet for Mom. It's actually kind of cool and has some teal swirls on it too. I have not yet bought it, but he is adamant that Mom and Dad must have ski helmets. He will always be the helmet boy at heart.

You're Not My Mom

We made it back from London. The doctors helped us to figure out what was going on, why it was happening, how long it would take to get better and what we should do to help that process. And, we ruled out various nefarious causes, much to my relief.

While in London, K caught a stomach virus (probably at one of our doctor visits). He was vomiting for 3 days and nights. So, we spent the majority of our London visit with his medical appointments and then the rest in the apartment. After running out of plastic bags, we decided to use one of the apartment's mixing bowls as a vomit bowl. We did put in the dishwasher when we left, but it makes you think twice about using apartment provided dishes, doesn't it.

All week, K had been saying how much he missed his brother and wanted to go home. And, we were almost not allowed to come home because of K's illness. Luckily, he was physically symptom free for 20 hours, so they let us go. Woohoo.  

Still feeling a bit on the cranky side (K, well me too I must admit), we made our way to the airport. While having a very light breakfast, K started saying he didn't want to get on the plane because it would take us to London. He insisted the only way to get home was to drive. Since driving to Bulgaria was not a realistic option for us, I tried explaining to him that we are currently in London, so why would the plane take us there. Reasoning with a cranky 4-year-old doesn't really work. So, I proceed to tell him, if he wants to go home, we will get on the plane. He wouldn't have it and let me tell you it was not a pretty sight.  

As we made our way out of the restaurant, much to the happiness of the other patrons, K continued his fit. Again, I told him the plane would take us home, not to London. Now, there is something you have to understand about K. . .if he doesn't like what you are saying to him, he will start in with, "you're not my friend" or "you're not my brother" or "you're not my dad" or "you're not my mom." Well, I guess he didn't like that I was insisting we were going to get on that plane. So, in the middle of the airport, he's crying and yelling "you're not my mom, you're not my mom." I'm just glad we didn't get pulled aside by security asking us what the heck was going on. Then again, maybe I should be a little worried that nobody intervened. Hmmm???? After his latest "you're not my mom," he threw off his favorite Thomas the Tank Engine boots. I took them away from him and told him he could only have them back if he behaved. He sat in his stroller, put his boots back on, and was quiet as we made our way to the plane. When we get to the plane, he said, "oh, this is the plane to Sofia, but none of the other planes here go home." Yes, he gets it. Phew, crisis averted. I'm just so glad I didn't have to find out how him yelling "you're not my mom" as we boarded the plane would have gone over.

I can only imagine the huge laugh my parents are having up in heaven over this one. Yes, ok, my kids are just like me, happy now. ;)

First Day Of Our Journey To London

In my attempt to edit my post, I appear to have lost it, on so many levels...We are ending the first day of our Journey to London. K, my four year old son, and I are here to hopefully get some answers to the prolapse that recently reappeared. London is rather an intimidating city to this suburbanite. About the only thing cosmopolitan with which I I ever felt at ease involved vodka and cranberry juice. But, here we are, just the two of us, making our way in the big city.

I decided K and I should stay in an apartment this visit, as we were told it would be at least 5 days, maybe more. Having a kitchen and laundry machine are wonderful. But, this is no posh hotel experience. There is not a doorman, concierge or other staff to greet us each time we leave or enter the building. We are in an honest to goodness one bedroom flat in Central London. And, I must admit I feel a bit vulnerable scrambling for keys to enter our double-locked building and then our double-locked flat, walking about finding my way around. By the looks of neighbors' cars, we must be in a pretty decent part of the city. Still, a bit intimidating. At least I didn't let my fear stop me from finding what we needed.

I must say I feel pretty proud of myself for finding a pasta place for dinner and then a grocery store to get us some basics - thank goodness I brought the stroller. I even called the local gas company when I smelled what I was sure was natural gas near some ground work on the street a few hundred meters away from our flat. All-in-all a productive first day in London. We will see how it goes tomorrow...

Stone Rabbit, What Has Become of You?

Oh my dear Stone Rabbit, what has become of you? I know, I know. . .Somehow just fading away from the blogosphere here. Time to TRY to change that. So, where were we? Well, I can tell you since London we've been home just working and playing and a few other things in between.

Hanukkah Harry was very kind to my boys. I think I am still regretting the megaphone voice changers. Hmmm. . .

We've had a few good dumpings of snow and so a few good sled days with the boys. The littlest one has decided that snow in the face is a cardinal sin and if it should occur everyone on this whole wide earth should know about it. Thank goodness, face mask to the rescue. Never mind that he looks like a little robber, maybe we will go with little Ninja instead.

Oh and LEGO®, LEGO®, LEGO®, . Hanukkah Harry refrained from giving all LEGO® this year. Yeah, how do you like them LEGO® apples, just helping hubby with his IPR issues here. Yes, so the boys have ENOUGH to last a life time. I cannot say that either one is tiring of them. In fact, our oldest has found himself in a situation where most of his friends have little LEGO® interest anymore. But, it is still his first love. Since the boy could walk he has been fixing and building, fixing and building, add in a little cooking/baking and those are his joys. So, I just hope he stays true to himself because I will take LEGO® over video games any day. Not that he doesn't like those too. Bet you'll never guess which ones.

Ok, time to check dinner. Until next time and hopefully that is sooner than later.