Sunday, May 31, 2009


The boys are obsessed with Elmo. I guess it's my fault... the only show I let them watch is TiVoed Sesame Street, and the only part they are really interested in is Elmo's World. "Elmo's World" has been a new experience for me. I was a Sesame Street kid myself, but things have changed in 30 years. Elmo went from being as popular (maybe) as Prairie Dawn (who apparently moved away or died or something) to hosting his own 20-minute-long show, during which he chats with a fish and hangs out with a mustachioed mute with the unfortunate name of Mr. Noodle. And my boys are in love with the little red guy, who in all honesty, is pretty endearing. (Although I get kind of weirded out when they show a fully upright and dancing Elmo. Not sure why, but for some reason I prefer to think that Muppets don't have legs.) Anyway, the boys squeal and dance when Elmo's theme song comes on and remain mesmerized for the next 20 minutes. They each sleep with an Elmo, he's on their PJ's (Charlie likes to lift his shirt and kiss Elmo), and Zach actually sings the Elmo theme song. They ask for him constantly. Cooper calls him "Eh-Mo," Charlie calls him "Mo Mo," and to Zach, he's just "Mo."

So next week is the boys' birthday. What would be cooler than having Elmo come visit? So we looked for a place that rented Elmo costumes. No luck. Tried Ebay, but apparently people selling Elmo costumes on Ebay are insane:
OK seriously. If Bizarro Elmo showed up at our house can you imagine the trauma? So the search continues... And if anyone knows what happened to Prairie Dawn, will you please let me know?

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

This and that

Today was graduation... Cooper's graduation for physical therapy, that is. He started PT when he was too sick to move, and now he is a running, jumping, climbing champ. Way to go, buddy.

We are really sick of the rain here in the QC. It poured all afternoon, which meant yet another afternoon of couch jumping, block throwing, pots-and-pans banging, crayon munching, and dancing. The Kahn boys love to dance. And they are really impressed with my dancing skills. I don't want to brag, but I'm damn good at the hokey pokey these days. And the chicken dance. I was flapping my wings around this afternoon, and Cooper disappeared for a minute and when he came back he presented me with his stuffed Big Bird. I hope that he thinks Big Bird is a chicken, and not that I look like Big Bird.

Speaking of big yellow things (well, kind of), Charlie's new favorite word is "lellow." It's funny the words that they pick up on and use the most. Every sauce that comes out of a plastic container is "see-whup" -- syrup, ketchup, squirtable jelly, whatever. If they aren't asking for "mah see-whup" during breakfast, they are chanting for "tees" (cheese) or "see-wall-bahs" (cereal bars). Or "kee-kees" (cookies). But by far, the most popular phrases in our house are "NOOOOOO," "uh oh," "OH!!!" and "oh no oh no." The other day I heard Charlie squealing from the other room "OH!!!!!! SUES!!!" (I had left a box of new shoes on the ottoman. He was very excited to find them. So excited that it scared me a bit.) It's really the the "uh oh's" and the "oh no's" that I have to worry about. And I hear them far too often. The other day I followed some hushed "oh no's" to the cat flap in the basement door. Two little heads were peering through the hole to the basement stairs. They had thrown half their toys and their snack down the hole. "Oh no" was right. And the most recent "uh oh's" revealed the boys soaked in Diet Coke. They had taken a can out of the box, shaken it up, and some how popped a hole in it. The can was alive, spraying all over the boys and all over my dining room. Uh oh, indeed.

The only thing worse than an "uh oh" or an "oh no" is silence. It quite possibly means that someone is tearing the last pages out of that book you haven't quite finished or has a mouthful of catfood.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Who Needs Pants?

I should post a sign on my front door warning visitors of what they might be walking into.

Zach had a particularly gross diaper this afternoon, and, as luck would have it, the doorbell rang just about the same second that I started cleaning him up. I could tell from where I was kneeling that there was a nicely dressed man on our porch who looked vaguely familar. Not wanting him to leave (I figured it was one of Brian's coworkers or a neighbor), I cleaned Zach up as quickly as I could, and left him diaperless. I'd be right back, after all. I opened the door and realized it was Jason Stoogenkie (a local TV news personality) and a cameraman standing on my porch. He said he was doing a story on the flood down the street and wanted some neighbor reaction. My honest reaction was: WHAT flood? I'd been stuck in the house with the boys all day long because of the rain, and had apparently missed the excitement. He told me not to worry, he would just ask me questions about prior flooding on our street. OK sure, go ahead. I answered his questions (worrying all the while about the fact that I was in my gym clothes and most likely had a snot stain on my shoulder). But what I SHOULD have been worried about was the fact that during the interview, Zach and his brothers had wandered up to the front door, and were hanging out by my knees. Zach was quite literally hanging out, in all his glory. Sure, he had a shirt on. But no pants, and no diaper. (For some reason, I think I would rather that he was naked, than just bottomless.) When I noticed him standing there, I looked up at our visitors, and all I thought to say was the obvious: "Sorry. He isn't wearing any pants." Duh. Kind of like "I carried a watermelon," if you get that reference.

Anyway, I'm sure the reporter found it odd, but the camera guy assured me Channel 9 was a "family friendly" station. Phew.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Zach's Bad Day

This past weekend was the NICU reunion. I love the NICU reunion. I was so proud of the boys, and so excited to show them off to the doctors and nurses we love so much. I think they were all really floored by Cooper - who was too busy running around to visit with anyone. He sure wasn't the orangey-green kid with the trach, on the ventilator, so swollen he could barely open his eyes, with tubes running everywhere. Nope: the former "king of the NICU" (he was there 6 months, after all) was the spunky little guy running around, laughing, stealing bean bags from the bean bag toss (sorry), eating chicken nuggets, kicking butt and taking names.

Oh and I have been told by several people that the boys made their TV debut on Saturday. Apparently a news crew filmed the boys at the picnic. And we missed it!

In other news, Zach had a rough afternoon today. We were outside playing when I heard him screaming bloody murder. This wasn't the Charlie-stole-my-juice-again scream. This was the oh-my-God-there-are-ants-eating-me scream. I ran over to him, and his legs were black. Covered with ants. I pulled him out of the huge ant hill (those darn ants build fast - I swear that thing wasn't there yesterday) and started wiping his red, welty legs down frantically. He must have been stung 50 times. His feet were the worst - swollen already! So I started to run inside with him while stripping his clothes, while at the same time screaming that Cooper and Charlie come with me and stay away from the anthill. Surprisingly, Cooper followed me. Not surprisingly, Charlie did not. Fortunately, my neighbor heard me shrieking and came and grabbed Charlie before he became dessert for the ants. Thank you Carla!!!

Anyway, after a frantic call to the pediatrician and a dose of Benadryll (which of course I didn't have - thanks again Carla!), Zach was fine. Phew. I'm not big on this kind of excitement. I'll take a poop in the tub any day.

Friday, May 1, 2009

Just need to vent...

So this morning, Diane Sawyer tells me about a "very important crib recall." Wouldn't you know it -- all 3 of our cribs have been recalled. As IF I have time to disassemble three cribs, pick up 3 cribs (and fit them where exactly in the van? I'm guessing they won't fit in the front seat. Maybe Zach won't mind sitting on top of them in the rear?), and assemble 3 more. And then I wonder what do I do exactly with the old cribs? Probably will have to break them into 3 foot pieces and bundle them to comply with the oh-so lenient Mecklenburg County trash-pickup laws. And in the meanwhile (while I am waiting for my crib vouchers) should I keep the fire department on speed-dial in case Charlie's big noggin gets stuck between the offending crib rails??

And while I am venting about things I have no time for... I need to sound off for a second about phantom poops. I really have no more time for phantom poops. Cooper is very good at telling us when he has pooped -- sometimes even before the smell leaks out, he comes up to us tugging at his diaper and complaining. Well, now Cooper thinks he needs a new diaper when he has gas. And so he comes to me, grabbing his pants and smelling pretty awful, so I haul him off to get changed. Silly Mommy. The possum strikes again.