Dinosaur Love

What I learned about dinosaurs...from my four year old!

1. Brachiasaurus is twelve kids tall! That's really tall.

2. The biggest dinosaur is Argentinasaurus.

3. Meat eaters have sharp teeth and lots of plant eaters have beaks.

4. Xenotarsosaurus - that one starts with an X, but it sounds like a Z.

5. Troodons they have great night eyes and they're omnivores. That means they eat meat AND plants.

6. Dome heads bonk heads with their crests. That might hurt. What is a dome head - pachysephalasaurus and stegaserus.

7. Buitre Raptors are smaller than robins. "Were there worms in dinosaur times?"

8. Euopolosephalis and ankylasaurus were 'tank' dinosaurs.

9. This is a long neck - shunosaurus - and he has a club on his tail!

10. Bird hipped dinosaurs and lizard hipped dinosaurs - a bird hipped dinosaur is archyopteryx and a lizard hipped dinosaur is a t-rex.

Hmmm...I learn a little something every day.

"Don't Worry, We Speak Iowan!"

This morning at breakfast we were talking, about what I'm not so sure at this point, when hubby and I caught each other's eye and said, in unison, "What?" Each boy had something important to say. So important that it couldn't wait until their mouth full of cereal was not only swallowed, but chewed. We asked O to repeat what he was trying to say. It sounded something like this, "Whurta ourfta prtujhumctug." We asked him three times to repeat what he was saying and it didn't change any time. Until finally he said, in exasperation, making sure to annunciate each syllable, "What are we doing today?" Got it!

We asked H to repeat what he was saying too. He repeated two times, "Rscpis ma hy." After repeating his phrase two times and hubby and I still not getting it, O carefully explained to us that H was saying, "Rice Krispies make me happy." So glad we have a live-in translator!

And then it dawned on me and I shared my epiphany out loud because it affected us all, "We're speaking different languages." And it's not just the boys that are misunderstood. Somehow when I say, 'Time to pick up the cars,' play continues without not so much as a glance in my direction. Or when I find myself yelling the directions after saying them kindly four other times. No wonder. I get it now. It was then that I had another realization - all of the grandkids on my side of the family are fluent in another language. Not us. I shared that with hubby to which he replied, "Don't worry. We speak Iowan!" Breakfast continued with me giving directions in fluent Iowan (no offense to anyone who is from Iowa - this was purely for fun). "Oink, oink, snort, squeal, corn, soybean, snort, oink." The boys got a kick out of this and belly laughed throughout it all.

Laughter we understand. It's a good thing we do it often!

It's A Boys' World Around Here

Dirt, dirt and more dirt! That's our world. On one side of our house we have an unfinished garden, perfect for digging, scooping and filtering dirt. The boys have already logged many hours this spring getting as filthy as humanly possible. If I'm not careful about after-dirt-bathing the boys will be sprouting their own greens soon.

As much as I love playing with the boys there are days when I would rather not play in the dirt or talk about the names of every dinosaur or Thomas train that ever existed or referee the latest wrestling match. Sometimes I find myself scratching my head and thinking, 'Why do boys play like this? I don't get it?' But those days of pondering are just the beginning...

Any day we'll be expecting our third boy. All of us are excited as can be. O and H talk about 'Baby,' kiss my belly, and look through the drawers of his baby clothes asking which ones they used to wear. Hubby is reminding me to take breaks, which I am trying to do. And I am constantly reminded about the little one I'm carrying every time I feel a kick, a tickle to my rib or the rhythmic beat of baby hiccups. The bags have yet to be packed and the pak-and-play has yet to be set up, but we are ready for one more pair of hands with tiny fingers that will soon be big enough to filter dirt in the back of a dump truck.

"It's Too Fancy For Me!"

A few nights ago I made dinner. I love cooking and this is mostly all joy, but the experience is completely amplified if the food is gobbled, ravenously or otherwise, by the people I'm cooking for - mainly my kiddos. I chose a recipe that has been a family favorite (even with the kids) for years - More Than Minestrone Soup. Simple. Delicious. A great combination. The boys love smoked meat and this recipe has plenty of it. A little bit of bacon and a lot of kielbasa. Nothing new. Nothing out of the ordinary.

The boys always start their meal in this way - fruit first, salad if it's there, milk, then the main course. It's predictable and if I could set my clock by it, I would. After gobbling the above, my youngest, H, just sat. And sat. And sat. We tried encouraging him to eat his soup and in his adorable two year old voice, he said, simply, "No, I don't want to (which actually sounds like, "No, I want to"). He said it politely. No tantrum. No fuss. Very respectful. So we encouraged a bit more. "But H, it has kielbasa. You LOVE (insert dramatic voice here) kielbasa. Here (scooping a piece onto his spoon). Try it. You'll like it." And just as we were trying to get him to eat in a dramatic way, he had a dramatic response. Hands on table. Head on hands. Head shaking from side to side (still respectfully I might add). "No. It's too fancy for me."

I wish I had my camera. The moment was precious. But you know if you try to recreate a perfect little moment like that it can never be reproduced in the same way...especially when it involves kiddos.

What did we do? We laughed. It was funny. Our little one expressed clearly enough how he felt about trying something he has already eaten on plenty of occasions, but in this moment the kielbasa was too fancy.

Sometimes life is like that for me too. I've tried something or done something a million times, but sometimes in the moment doing it again feels too fancy. Kind of like writing this blog. I've been writing for years. Journaling for years. Telling stories for years. Taking pictures for years. Blogging, inconsistently (sorry J, H, K, M, M, R) for years. And the thought of starting a new blog with a different purpose has felt too fancy. But just like my little guy eventually tried (and liked) his kielbasa that evening, I am trying again with a different approach this time.

This blog is about life. Our life. The adventures we take and the mistakes and triumphs we learn from. It will involve crafty things, sporty things, cooking things, kiddo things. Things that make us, us. So, enjoy.

And in case anyone would like it, here's the More Than Minestrone Soup recipe that I made (and gobbled). Try it. You'll like it.

5 slices of bacon, diced

1 c. onion, chopped

1 pkg. turkey kielbasa

2 celery stalks, diced

2 small carrots, diced

3 medium cloves garlic, minced

1 28oz. can Italian-style tomatoes

1/2 c. fresh parsley, chopped

6 c. chicken stock

1 10oz. can each kidney beans, great Northern beans, drained and rinsed

1 9oz. can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed

1 t. each dried basil and oregano

1 1/2 c. small seashell shaped pasta

Fresh Parmesan cheese

Saute bacon in lg. pot for 5 minutes until soft and crispy. Add onion, kielbasa, celery and carrots. Cook until veggies are soft but not brown, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook 2 minutes more. Add the remaining ingredients EXCEPT pasta and cheese. Simmer over medium heat for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add the pasta shells and cook for 8 minutes longer, or until pasta is al dente. Stir frequently to prevent pasta from sticking. Garnish with freshly grated Parmesan cheese. Enjoy, then tell me what you think.