hot and cold

Most sinks these days have one faucet. Water pressure and temperature is controlled by knobs, or a lever, or motion detection magic, but it all comes out of the same faucet.

I don't know if most sinks in the "olden days" were made like this, or if there was just one really dumb sink manufacturer a long time ago, but there are some sinks with both hot and cold knobs. And separate faucets too. Got that? Here's a visual for you:



I've found myself at one of these sinks before. I stood before it, befuddled. "How can I comfortably wash my hands here?!" Because "hot" is melt-my-skin-hot, and "cold" is ice-cubes-in-my-bloodstream cold. I kind of moved my soapy hands all over the place, sending my nervous system into input overload.

Living with a (near) two year old is much like this experience. There is no middle ground; there is no ability to mix hot and cold. The extreme nature of the two year old takes the sink metaphor and knocks it off of the wall, creating high pressured jets of water, aimed right at your face. And, yup, you've called the emergency plumber, but he can only seem to get one stream turned off at a time, and he can't help which one:
" You're the best mama. Ever." said with fluttery eyelashes, a smile, and a hug.
OR
"I do NOT love you anymore," screamed at ear piercing volume and pitch.


... and can you live like this for oh, say... 6 or so months? Or maybe a few more years?



Thanks to Maribeth and Mia for inspiring this post. Ms. Mia just turned 2 yesterday, and her mom shared a honest and sweet little testimony of Mia's personality that got me thinking about this. Thanks also to my own crazy sink. And thanks to Microsoft Paint for allowing me to encourage the graphic artist in me.

Kid chats

I posted earlier this month that Willa had some nightmares that sounded pretty darned scary. A few mornings ago she snuggled up to me and gave me the dream report: "I dreamed that alligators and lizards and dinosaurs were chasing me." I reassured her saying it was only a dream, and those animals weren't real. She looked at me with (I'm pretty sure) pity. "Mom, they were nice animals. We were playing."

Henry is really communicating well. He says "uh-uh" for no, and nods (in one slow move of chin touching chest) for yes. He's an agreeable chap, for the most part. We had a disagreement over picking Willa up from school the other day.

Big doin's today

So, here's Henry with my parents last weekend.

And....

...here he is in front of Jim's parents' burning bush today:

He loved the haircut, and was curious about the Henry in the mirror wearing the sheet. We were on the road and decided it was just time, and stopped in at a Great Clips. Quick, and done.

Watch him grow

If you'd like to see these a bit bigger, just click on the image above.

12 months

You rarely remember the exact moment that you meet someone new, let alone have a photo of it. A year ago today, we met our son. Henry calls his sister "eye-la." He launches himself across the room, running the final strides into Jim's arms. He giggles while tickling me.Happy birthday, Henry.

Dear Henry's (future) teachers,

Please work closely with the Sinki family. I had no idea how my addiction would impact his future.

In the news: pregnant moms who eat a lot of licorice make hyper kiddos.
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/10/091006093349.htm

We're in big trouble.

Edit: Twizzlers is a licorice-like candy. No actual licorice ingredients. We're saved!