Make Way For Ducklings

On our first full day in Boshum, Tom's mom and dad took us to Boston Common.

Fynnie thinks Gramma Judy is pretty smart.

Our girls are young and relatively inexperienced in the pleasures of the park.  They've been to playgrounds, something that our desert community has in abundance.  But a place like Boston Common?  Not going to be found in the HD.

Boston Common has a merry-go-round.  Madelyn and Dadelyn went around and around.  Daddy gets dizzy and queasy on spinny rides, but making this memory with his daughter was worth it.

Gramma and Grampy have been to Boston Common before, and knew all the best places to go.  Grampy isn't able to walk much, so he parked himself under various trees throughout the day.    Apparently the frog pond we walked next to is often open for splashing.  We're guessing the recent (non-flooding!) storms made it too dirty; no kids or dogs were allowed to splash around that day. 

Fynnie and I did not get the memo about the day's color scheme.

Remember how much Mad loves frogs and ducks?  Despite our attempts to encourage Fynnie's love for elephants, she is all about the fwogs, too.

That play area in the background?  Tadpole Playground, of course.

See a frog, be a frog!  

See a fish, be a fish!

See a turtle... ah, c'mon Mama!

I love this photo for the look in her eyes.  And for the fact that her hair isn't a crazy mess.

If Madelyn could sum up her greatest disappointment about our trip, it's that we only went to Boston Common once.

Did you ever read Make Way for Ducklings?  This is that place.  That is the island.  

Gramma made sure to give the girls their own copy of the book when we returned to the hotel that night.  I attempted to read it over the exhausted screaming, but we only got so far.

"Yes, Mama made me quack like a duck while she took my picture."

"She made Fynnie do it, too, bahaha!"

"I yike to quack like a duck!  Cack cack cack!"

"Somebody, put me out of my misery!"

"I put you out mizzy!  Cack cack cack!"

Celebrate Good Times, C'mon!

Mad wanted ducks and frogs, chocolate cupcakes and white and a spoon for her birthday party.

I admit these frog cupcakes are rather pitiful.  I found the best frog cupcake toppers, but Tom decided "we" should make these instead.  In the picture we'd found online, the green candy stayed in a smile.  Ours would hardly stay bent at all.  When I tried putting a very bent piece on one cupcake, it dragged the frosting down until the frog looked even more grim than the others.

Corey said these look less like frogs and more like green French people. Vohoho!

Oh, and what they lack in style, these cupcakes made up for in ability to stick to the paper.  I don't say I completely forgot to put oil in the batter.  I say I made fat free chocolate cupcakes.

The same lady who made these perfect ducks was the maker of the frogs Tom said we shouldn't buy, because "we" could make our own.  (Our order was perfect and shipped a lot more quickly than I'd expected.  Not only that, but since we'd purchased the candy for the frogs at an overpriced mall candy shop, the cost savings for doing it ourselves was $3.)

Banana nut muffins cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.  Um, yes please!

I am just so relieved that Tom didn't insist we make duck cupcakes, too.  Oh, I found an adorable ducky cupcake.

But I also found a blog that showed exactly what my ducks would look like, should we attempt such a feat.  I think the fact that the writer calls her sister-in-law's (I believe) effort "mutant rubber ducks" speaks to the horror.  You can check that out here.

When the kids arrived, they hunted for butterflies.  The butterfly nets had one "catch" in it and the kids had to find the matching prey.  Good thing Grandma put the butterflies out and not me.  I envisioned them being spread high and low around a couple of rooms in our house.  She put them all in one tiny little section.  The kids are two, so easy finding and matching is different for them than for me.  Note to self.

This little lovely is still on the wall.

Critter tree.  For looks.  We are using it for Easter, too.  Just as you see here, only without the balloons.  It may also become our Cinco de Mayo tree.  Arribe!

Making caterpillars in our weed-ridden backyard.  Check out those short sleeves.  It was a balmy 53 degrees in the sun.  With wind.  Jackets were brought out shortly after this.

Lots of activities to do, but what's better than digging in cement-like clay?

Each of the kids had a pot and a selection of veggies to choose from.  Samantha and her mother opted for an ambitious looking watermelon plant.  I am not kidding.  That's what she called it (the mother, not the child).  I love Valeria.  She's from the mommy group I was in when Mad was born.  We were the rare group that had nothing in common aside from our babies.  Valeria is from Belarus and a model.  Now she's working on her own clothing line.  I can be counted on to not wear makeup, accessories or, often, shoes and a bra.  Somehow we make it work.

Mad got some great gifts. Apparently people felt like they could help us furnish our barren abode house at the same time as they celebrated Mad's third birthday. She received a puppet theater and a table and chairs.

Safety is important.  We were all happy to read this on the box.

Not as happy to see this on each and every chair.  At least they won't pinch!

And now for the dramatic conclusion...

Right after this was taken, Mad seemed to have a seizure.  Thank god my mother-in-law was there.  Her nursing skills, speed and calm exterior helped us all cope a little better.

Yes, she's seen a doctor.  He said it could've been a seizure or she could have been holding her breath from all the excitement.  Waiting on a neurology referral.  Yes, that's a ridiculous thing to have to wait this long for.

Party Planning

Tom decided he'd like Mad's third birthday party to be WordWorld themed.  Or The Wiggles.  I have never really disliked a kids' show until seeing a few episodes of The Wiggles.  Granted, they have some catchy tunes, but they also... okay, they're just weird.  And they're not my kind of weird.  Ugh!

More importantly, do we have to have commercial themes?  We did get her a musical Elmo balloon last year (the music piece lasted five or six months longer than the balloon itself... an excellent investment in Mad's eyes), but are we really the type of people whose parties match up with television shows?  We may as well shop at WalMart, catch Bieber fever and start teaching Mad that Hannah Montana is an excellent role model right now.

*sigh*

Margaret and I did a little birthday decoration reconnaissance Monday night.  Stopped at a home decoration store rumored to have butterfly nets for cheap.  When you're looking at a dozen kids, they weren't that cheap, and for some reason, the more appropriately sized small ones were twice as much as the large ones.

Went to the dollar section at Target and found the small ones for a buck.  Along with some frog slippers and a frog magnifying glass.  Have I ever mentioned Mad's unswerving adoration for frogs?  I do find it ironic, since my dad insisted on calling me Froggie from age 11 to probably 19 or 20.  It was cute for about three minutes.  People loved to gift me with frog statuettes, stationary, stickers specially printed with my "name."  Beginning at age 22, frogs were given away, donated or tossed with every move.  I moved four times that year alone.

It's probably inevitable, Mad's frog love.  She also loves ducks.  They do not have quite the same luster as fwogs, rather they are fwogs' pond buddies and, as such, held in a position of esteem.

Behold part of her collection of frogs and ducks:

Allow me to introduce you to some of her friends.  Back Row: Duck, New Frog, Backpack Frog, Other New Frog.  Front Row:  Another New Frog (sometimes known as Fynnie's Frog, which Mad reclaims as often as possible), Little Green Frog (AKA Original F.R.O.G., this is the dude that started the craze... ahem... for Tom... before Mad was born), Duck and Frog Blanket.  (Not pictured because she's sleeping on him right now:  Big Green Daddy Frog and a collection of fuzzy and rubber ducks, but no, not fuzzy rubber ducks.)

The other morning on the drive to Grandma's, I asked Mad, "What do you want to do for your birthday that is coming up?"

"I need chocwet."

"Yes, honey, that's because you're my daughter.  What do you want to do?"

"I need chocwet and white."

"You want chocolate cake?"

"Yeth."

"And white cake?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Do you want a cake or would you rather have cupcakes?"

"I ravviveler have cupcakes!"

"Chocolate cupcakes and white cupcakes?"

"Yeth.  I need chocwet cupcakes and white cupcakes.  And a spoon.  And ice cweam."

One thing I love about my girl, that ability to separate the needs from the wants.

Today we made more progress in the party planning details.  There's a cupcake bakery that recently won Cupcake Wars.  Margaret pulled the address for me so I could check 'em out.  I asked Mad if she had any particular decorations she wanted on her cupcakes.

"Yes, ummm... I want fwogs."

"Anything else?"

"And ducks.  And fwogs and ducks."

In case that wasn't clear, this evening she explained the whole situation to Tom.  Covering her bases, don'tcha know.

Tonight Tom made invitations that feature a frog who is a complete unknown in the world of children's television.  Or probably any television.  Printed on duck yellow paper.  Has some cute wording.  I gave it a fun font.  More of a garden/pond feeling than a theme.  At our house in the desert.  All is well.  (Yes, I am dying to go all "ducky" here, but a modicum of restraint, people!)

How To Potty Train Your... Duck

Grandma got tired of waiting for me to bring down the potty seat we'd gotten for Madelyn (girl has no interest in going near it, so I just haven't bothered).  She and Papa went out and bought a potty seat and a potty chair and asked me to choose on Monday morning when we arrived (uh, let's just skip any unnecessary steps, 'kay?).


Grandma and I walked gleefully into the bathroom together.  Madelyn stayed down the hall, quietly saying, "No" every time we asked if she was coming to see what we were doing.  Then we boisterously discussed how exciting and fun and interesting this was.  Mad-a-Cat came creeping in to see what we were doing.  She watched as we oohed and aahed over the toilet seat, but declined to get on to it.


I suggested she go get Duck.  She raced out and came cautiously back, Duck in tow.  Duck sat on the potty and Mad said, "She peeing."  (Although she can identify "man, woman, boy and girl, everybody is "she," a fact that sometimes gets to Corey.)  Mad got some toilet paper and wiped Duck down before flushing the paper away.  The process was repeated twice (when a duck's gotta go, a duck's gotta go) before I headed off to work.


Margaret said that she got Mad up on the potty right after nap that day, but that nothing happened.  I haven't heard any more about it until yesterday, when I received these photos at work.  They remind me of an instruction manual.


Step 1:  Put Duck on the seat and wait politely while she does her business.

Step 2:  Wipe, but be discreet.

Step 3: Maybe you should pay more attention to the task at hand.  (Notice Duck looking slightly perplexed at this new experience.)

Step 4: No really.  Get in there!

Step 5: Make sure everything is all gone.

 So glad we won't have to buy any more diapers for Duck!