Visit with the Matthews

Cousin Lydia came to play!

We have had quite the weekend...
First, we tried to go to the Funk in the City art show downtown with all three kids. The art was great, having the young children there was not.
Henry and Lydia did well holding hands with Uncle Scott on the way into the festival:



But once we were in there, Svea wanted to push the stroller into all of the tents with glass and pottery. Lydia wanted to ride in the stroller and Henry wanted to ride on Brian's shoulders the whole time. Until he found out that the Rotary International tent was selling hot dogs.



So we ate a hot dog. For 20 minutes. We were only there at the festival for 45.

While Henry and I dined on the curb, Lydia and Svea took apart the flowers on this bush.



So maybe art festivals will go better (or at least longer) in another year or two with the kids.

Baseball in the driveway was a total hit, though:











Swing, batta batta batta, suh-wing.

No Pics

I haven't taken a picture in 3 days that's worth anything.
I hate it when I get this way...but my energy has been elsewhere. Like potty training.

So, a few weeks ago while Svea was in the bathtub, Henry leaned over the edge of the tub and asked her, "How's your big butt doing?"
And Svea looked back at her rear end and said, "Uhhh, fine."
We don't usually say "butt" around here thanks to my upbringing. We do say a lot of "bum" and "bottom" and the like. I tried hard to aim my laughter towards the hallway.

Henry has been much more friendly with strangers this week and likes to begin his conversation with innocent patrons at the grocery with statements like, "When you are pooping on the potty, sometimes you have to wait and wait and wait and wait." This is when I like to see how fast I can push a grocery cart full of 2 kids and food for an entire week.

Svea is saying sweet and hilarious things - all in complete and delicious sentences - but I'm afraid writing them would rob them of their cuteness. Especially because, as iHusband points out, she still talks like a foreign exchange student who is visiting while graciously putting up with all of our antics. It doesn't help that I've cut her hair like Amelie. She may really be French.

At "school" this morning, Henry tackled a classmate named Luke. Apparently he has explained to his teachers that EVERYTHING is, in fact, football. Even learning about letters. So when they got to the gym today for Play Time and he tackled Luke, THEY DIDN'T SAY ANYTHING. Then when I picked him up, they told me that usually they don't allow tackling but since Luke didn't mind, neither did they.
They are under his spell.
The spell that makes football a great equalizer, a defining factor in life's grand equation, a scary foreboding element in this mom's future.
What in the WORLD.

In addition to the funny things. Henry and Svea have both been textbook sweet to each other today, kissing each other's boo-boos and apologizing when the football cletes land on bare toes.
After "rest time" this afternoon, Henry immediately went to Svea and kissed her on the head and asked her if she missed him while she slept.
For all of you out there with no kids. this moment just described equals total redemption. For at least 10 whole minutes.
And sometimes 10 minutes feels like a lifetime.

Racking in the Parenting Awards

Svea has always loved wearing sunglasses.

She finds them in every corner of our house, shoves them on her face upside down leaving fingerprints all over them and declares herself MOOOOOOOOVIE STARRRRR.

So when I have on my prescription glasses she always wants to try them, and I usually resist in fear of ruining her vision early. I'm still holding on to the chance that both kids inherited Brian's 20/20.

But one night I gave in. And it was hilarious. She was holding them to her face, looking at the carpet and high-knee marching around the room.



I couldn't see her doing this, of course, but Brian was laughing so much he had to go get the camera and record it for me so that when I got my smudgy glasses back I could see how cute she was in them.



Once again, parenting awards abound in our house.


I should also get one for letting Henry pee in the parking lot when I picked him up from school today, too.

Weagle, Weagle...

Henry and Svea got to go to their first Auburn game this past weekend!

All the details that went in to organizing that Saturday's events are amazingly intricate, emotionally loaded, and so over the top you would think we had been trying to plan a peace process between warring nations.
Some may say that IS what we were doing.

In the end, Brian and I boarded a plane to attend Anis and Neda's wedding in Maryland (a separate post about that to come) while Henry and Svea spent time with my parents and Brian's.
Mimi and Papa took them down to Auburn to cheer and tailgate with Aunt Brooke, to high-five Aubbie (sp?) the mascot and sit through the first quarter of the game. They lasted about 5 hours I hear, though by the time they got to the game Henry wouldn't stop complaining about the sun being in his eyes until Papa gave him his own sunglasses.

Here Henry is with Brooke and Trent:



Svea chose to read her books in the car on the way down to Auburn instead of napping, so she was a little grumpy and didn't want to smile - or let go of her cup - for the photo ops:



But it was only because she was so sleepy:



I love this one of Henry growling like a tiger with Aunt Brooke:



And Henry getting a good look at the cheerleaders, perched on Papa's shoulders, proudly wearing the button with Brooke's face on it, as well as his new jersey and his tiger face paint:



And finally...at the game:



So, for all our blood relatives, for our legacy at Auburn, for our dear Aunt Brooke,
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar Eeeeaaaagle, HEY.




P.S. I am on the fence about the words to the Alabama and Auburn cheers and fight songs since they all contain swear words at some point...any parental advice out there about letting a 3-year-old cheer and pump his fist in pure devotion to the excitement of cheering for something...but maybe using 4-letter words?

All By Myself

The big girl has learned to put on her shoes



and does NOT want help.

New Afternoon Routine

The Reitz Memorial Tigers football team practices in a field two blocks from our house. You can hear the coaches' whistles from about 3:15 until 7pm most weekdays. There is no escaping that whistle with a three-year-old.

So the past few weeks, we wake up from naps (or Rest Time), piddle and snack, then head down to the field to watch practice.
We last about 20 minutes when we forget to bring our own cletes, football and helmet.
We last about 5 minutes if there are no cars parked on the street to offer us some shade to sit in.
We last about 25 minutes if I have any say about it. For some reason I am totally embarrassed to be watching a high school team through a gate with two children, two LOUD children who are asking questions about the players every 7 seconds, questions that the players can HEAR them ask since we are about 4 feet from them during their warm-up drills. I guess some high school anxieties never leave you.



Henry can't wait to be in high school now and asks me to repeat "the plan" several times a day: he has to eat all his food at mealtimes, sleep all night long, study hard for his classes and THEN he'll be in high school and can have shoulder pads and a mouth guard?
Where do I even begin with this kid?

Today when we were throwing the ball on the sidewalk by the football players, he kept talking to me and jumbling all his words. I finally asked him to please tell me what he was saying and he said, "Wait a minute. I have to take out my guard mouth."



The uniform Henry picked out for today's practice was a white undershirt so he could be on the white team, soccer shorts, one black knee sock (that used to be mine) and one black short sock, cletes. Don't forget the sticker helmet and the football.
All Svea needed was her Alabama hat that she wore for 4.8 seconds.



On Sunday when we were watching the scrimmage on the very same field, he sat down on the sidewalk and said really boldly, "I hope I don't poop in my pants here. THAT would not be good. You have to poop in the POTTY."
I would find that kid some shoulder pads and a mouth guard that fit at this point if he would poop on the dang potty.

Svea stays pretty entertained the whole time, that accommodating kid, as long as I wear sunglasses she can take on and off and then claim to be a "Mooooooovie Star!!" every time she puts them on herself. Upside down.
I also have to be loaded with snacks and she happily nibbles away for the duration.



Not a bad afternoon routine, despite my embarrassment, I must admit. Especially as the weather cools and I enjoy the walk there and the long way home before iHusband gets home from work.

I predict the same rhythm for tomorrow..and the next day...and for as long as Henry chooses to sleep with his helmet and ball and want to throw a few before breakfast.

Afternoon Chores

Svea helping out with washing the Cream Puff...







...not unlike her brother last summer:



Teaching good habits around here. On the weekends, at least,

The Girl Likes her Icing

Svea helped me frost a cake this morning.



I had to pry the knife out of her fist...she loves some cream cheese icing.

Getting Ready for Tomorrow's Games

Tackle football with Uncle Brad (Henry won that play):



But he's up and running again!



Uh...now Brad has the ball.



Papa's playing?



Sweet...I'm outta here with my drank then.




What's Svea get out of all of this?
She got the football shoes.

Happy Birthday Uncle Johnnie!

Big shout out for the big 3-0 today, Uncle Johnnie. Even though it was your yesterday.

In your honor, we will throw some football, admire some iron, tell all artists to BE FREE (especially from excel spreadsheets), listen to some reggae, throw a frisbee while pretending it's disc golf, and have a home brew.
All in one day.

We're all glad you were born.

What Svea Does During Football Mania

Sticker Time

Football fever has hit our house full on and Henry spent a long time the other night getting ready for the game. He's on the Singapore-frog-sticker-Spiderman team so those are the stickers that now adorn the beloved helmet.

We are thinking about getting him a helmet that actually fits him and has padding and everything since Henry thinks it's a goal to BE tackled, not something to avoid.



He has taken to grunting when throwing the spiral passes at his Dad, especially when all Daddy wants to do is check his email. I guess the grunt is a good addition since it gives the slightest warning before the ole pig skin pokes Daddy in the eye.



Just like last year, whatever color shirt any family member chooses for that day designates his or her "team" and if you want Henry to fully complete a task, you must call him "John Parker Wilson" or "hey there football player" or even "Johnny Mack Brown." The hot dogs in his scrambled eggs tonight were also footballs.

There were no footballs at the model train exhibition we tried to go to today, so we promptly left and found a high school scrimmage going on in the same field as a kiddie flag football game between two elementary schools. We only stayed there about 20 minutes though because Henry didn't have the right football pants on. To WATCH the game. He is such the perfect combination of his father and me.

That said, any questions or comments made about this post will be sent directly to iHusband's inbox.
With love and a gruntled spiral pass.

I Just Can't Get Enough of This One

Blowing Bubbles on the Back Patio

I couldn't figure out what was best about all of this.

The fact that Henry INVITED Svea to come and play with him and blow bubbles?



The fact that she did it?



Hearing their laughter?



Hopes for future playing and laughing?

It's Official

We have moved into a new house, on the same street, just two doors down. 431 is our new house number.

We have been living around piles of paper and laundry baskets full of stuff accumulated that we may or may not even need. This move snuck up on us so we didn't do a whole lot of packing or planning...

A few boxes were filled and then emptied, mostly so that Pops could cut a hole in one and name it Mr. Box and Henry could learn to walk around in it and peek out at his laughing audience.







Fun for HOURS, I tell you.

Polaroid Afternoon

Polaroid Afternoon
Originally uploaded by iMollie

Henry and Svea

Henry and Svea
Originally uploaded by iMollie

I have such a hard time getting a good picture of the two of them together, that this one will have to do.
My mom took this one when she and Pops took them to see Bob the Builder at the McWane Center with Lydia, Meredith and Scott. What a hit.

New fan hair do

New fan hair do
Originally uploaded by iMollie

Just lovin' J Lo, you know.

Yesssss

Yesssss
Originally uploaded by iMollie

I love this one of Henry. Victorious.