"Oh, Hello, Mike."
"Mike is going to work in his tenement apartment."
"Really? What does Mike do?"
"He's an ophthalmologist like Daddy. But a different kind."
"What does Mike look like?"
"Mike is dark. With a dark face like black and brown and he has purple legs. He wears a purple shirt and sometimes yellow."
"That's very nice."
"Yeah. I love Mike."
I have but one burning question to ask you. I feel that the answer to this question would greatly improve the quality of life for all caregivers near and far. This one little gem of knowledge would save many hours, prevent many, many gray hairs from moving in prematurely, and in general, make people like you more. The answer to this very simple question would help to ensure smooth transitions between home and car, inside and outside, and oh, perhaps even Heaven and Hell.
Why do you dislike putting your shoes on so much? There was a time when your feet were so sweet, now they are the source of most of our misery.
If I charted the things that we argued about, the number one thing would be putting on your shoes. It would go something like this:
"Asher, put your shoes on please. I am taking you to Elmo's house where you can meet Handy Manny and Mickey Mouse, eat ice cream, swim in his pool, play with all of his Thomas Trains, while watching TV and staying up late all at the same time!!! C'mon, lets go!!"
"NNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I CAAAAAANNNN'T."
"Just try. The faster we can get into the car, the faster we will be at the ice cream-TV-candy-toy-Elmo party!!!"
"UGH! It's too hard. I can't do it."
"OK, Let me help you." (Mommy goes over to help.)
"NO!!!! I can do it MYself!!!!!"
Oh, sweet three-year-olds, please enlighten us old people as to why shoes are so evil? Why must you refuse to put them on with such vehemence, you would think someone was pulling out your fingernails. Why will you happily put them on and take them off just for fun, but refuse when we are trying to leave the house?
I feel that if we adults knew the secret, the true reason behind this madness, we would be able to bring peace and sanity to families everywhere. We would be better equipped to deal with the future. Years ago we thought velcro was such an advance on this issue, but now we have Keens to deal with. Please help us to help you have a better shoe wearing future.
Love,
Shoe Buying Mothers of the World
Let me just start by saying, that this was NOT my idea. It was Bonnie's. The assistant director at the preschool. I like her. I trust her. She has been right about Asher many times before. However, she did not make 3 trips to PetSmart spending $45 on a hermit crab yesterday.
Bonnie thought it would be a good idea to help Asher with the move. They had one in the classroom at the school, and he was VERY interested in it. Bonnie said it would give him something to take care of and take some of the stress off of him, give him something to transfer it to, I suppose.
And I feel badly for him, he has been stressed. Half of his toys are in the closet, we have to leave the house multiple times a day to show it, he is barely allowed to touch anything because so far we have had lots of traffic, and not much warning. He has also had to nap at Grammy's house a few times, and once had to eat his lunch on the front porch because someone rang the doorbell and wanted to see the house on the spot. I certainly am not turning any potential buyers away, but holy crap, it is stressful.
So yesterday we have an hour to kill before attempting the double-child nap, and I say to Dan, "What do you think hermit crabs eat?" An hour later, Asher had his very own crab named Pinchy.
Let me interject here, I suggested Pinchy as a name. I have never watched an episode of the Simpsons in my life, but Dan immediately insisted we call him that because of this episode. (thanks MG for finding it)
I happen to feel slightly on the despising side of indifferent towards Pinchy, but Asher exclaimed more than once yesterday, "I am so very glad and happy that I have my very own hermit crab Pinchy to take care of. I love Pinchy and he loves me."
I guess he stays. Pinchy, that is, of course Asher stays.
In case you have never sold a house, you might not know that it needs to look like you don't actually live in it in order to sell it. It needs to be open, spacious, uncluttered, and most of all CLEAN. I don't mean clorox the counters clean, I mean vaccuum your heat registers, Mr. Clean Magic Eraser the walls, and repaint the baseboards clean. Polish the doorknobs, change all the light bulbs, and hide half, no, three quarters of the toys clean. Hide all traces of you living here, so that other people might see themselves living in your house. No dishes, crumbs, bottles, dog hair, papers, notes, grocery lists, fingerpaintings hung on the refrigerator, laundry, or other evidence of real life.
Oh, and KEEP IT THAT WAY UNTIL SOMEONE BUYS IT. Because your phone could ring, (and has) any second with a potential buyer wanting to have a looksie in 20 minutes if that's OK? And you can't say no, or it's not a good time, or come back on Saturday, because you want to sell it, which in today's housing market could take about 46 months. So we rouse all sleeping and waking children put them in the car, and make like trees and leave for an hour, until the people are done judging your immaculate dwelling space (hopefully they don't notice the crack in the countertop, or the wrinkled carpet.)
Along with the house, we are offering what is left of my sanity, which is not much considering that these people do live here...
In the process of daily life, traveling, visits from relatives, etc., I missed the big things.
I missed the little little things, that are actually pretty big.
Jacob stood up for the first time today, and clapped. I have no video. No pictures, and I am not sure when he started doing it... this weekend?
Little man, I want you to know that just because the second baby gets shafted on the pictures, videos and keepsakes. Just because you get all the hand me downs, and all the used clothing and toys, it does not mean we don't love you. We love you very much. We love your squishiness, and your big personality, and we know a TON about you, and love it all.
Even if we also have almost no pictures of just you... 
