Inside the Actor's Studio...with Leo Simcik

The role-playing that Leo and I did today was not my first clue that Leo may one day become a famous actor:

--There was the phase he went through a year ago where he insisted we call him different names: the goalie, the engineer, the doctor, Gordon, etc.

--There was the resurrection of that phase recently where he asked to be called the shark, the dinosaur, the beaver and "Baker's Man."

--There's the performing on the stage (the elevated floor in our foyer) where he pretends to be holding a microphone

--There are the Oscar-worthy performances about having boo boos and not being able to walk. Lately he's been saying that he needs to poop right after getting into bed for his nap. At first I fell for it (I mean, who is going to deny a person a bowel movement?) But after several false (fake) alarms, I told him that he would just have to wait until after nap. He wailed, "But I really need to poop! I'm gonna make an accident! I'm going in my Pull-up right now!" I started thinking, "This time might be for real" but I stuck to my guns. And did he ever poop in his Pull-up? No. He didn't even poop after nap!

But the role-playing today showed me that he not only likes to pretend and perform, he's really good at it--a method actor! I'm going to just put excerpts from the dialogue here. (And remember, "Leo" is Leo pretending to be me and "Me" is me pretending to be Leo. It was hard for me to keep straight too. But not for Leo. He corrected me when I slipped up.)

Leo: I'll be mommy and you be Leo. What did you do at school today, Leo?

Me: I learned about the Letter R and I watched kids do show and tell and I made a raccoon mask and I was so nice and kind to my friends.

Leo: That's nice. What are you going to do when you

get home?

Me: I'm going to play for five minutes and then go take my nap because I'm tired.

Leo: That's right, Leo. But you can play for six minutes today!

Me: No, I'm too tired. I just want to play for five minutes.

Leo: I'm mommy. I'm a grill. (Girl.) I'm a woman. I can be a grill or a woman. (Giggles.)

(When we got home I thought we would switch back but he stayed in character.)

Leo: Okay, Leo, I'm going to set the timer for five minutes (as he pushes buttons on the TV remote.)

Me: Well if you're mommy I guess you'll have to take care of Gus.

Leo: Yes, I'm going to hold Gus!

(Now holding Gus on the Boppy)

(While Leo is a good actor, it does not appear that he is fooling Gus into thinking this is his mommy.)

Leo: Leo, can you look at Gus' diaper and eat?

Me: No, I can't.

Leo: But you need to get used to it, Leo. And you need to be able to eat when there are napkins and paper towels around too.

Me: You're right, mommy. Do you know why I don't like to eat when paper towels and napkins and diapers are around?

Leo: No, but you need to get over it.

(Real timer that I had set beeps)

Leo: That's the timer, Leo! It's time for you to go upstairs a

nd get ready for your nap!

(As we're walking up the stairs)

Leo: You must do what I say, Leo! Are you listening to me, Leo? Good job!

Switching back was much harder than you could imagine. I tried to do this whole "let's hold hands and spin around and 'poof' you're Leo again and I'm mommy' but he kept insisting he was mommy and he was going to sleep in my bed, etc. I promised we could switch back after nap so I'm enjoying being myself for awhile until I have to go back to being a three-year-old!

(And this is just a cute pic of the boys!)

Spice Girl

Back when I first started blogging, I wrote a lot about my kitchen. I was excited about it because I was just learning to cook. And I was just learning to cook because I had a lot more time on my hands: I didn't have a full-time job or kids. (Man, those were the days! Why didn't I appreciate them more?)

But since having kids I haven't written about my kitchen as much. Oh, I'm still in there plenty--making separate meals for everyone. Frank likes a hearty, carby meal. I'm now gluten free (more on that later) and Leo...well, Leo has about five things he eats (mac and cheese, "eggs he may pick up with his hands," pancakes, oatmeal and...make that four things).

So today I wanted to show you some fun things I've done to improve my kitchen. I'm most excited about my spice rack replacement. I had this cool double-decker lazy Susan spice rack but it was starting to buckle under the pressure of my multitude of spices. I temporarily removed the spices and when I went to throw away the spice rack, Leo had a gazillion questions about why. I thought it was cute when he said, "But we can fix it!" Now that's thinking like his Popsy (not like mommy who prefers to just scrap it and buy something new).

For a few days we lived like this. Oh, the horror!!

But then I went to Bed, Bath and Beyond and bought this contraption that I had seen on TV. Love how it's compact and makes it easy to see my spices.

I do not like that it didn't fit in my cabinets (my cabinets' fault, not the spice rack's) or that it didn't hold my big spices.

While I was at B, B and B I picked up a few other things. Even though I love this olive oil holder from my MIL, it had started to get, as my friend Liz would say, "Dundies." As you can see the oil had affected the color on the holder and as you can't see, the spout came off all the time. Now this is sort of a lame example because I failed to take a picture of the new one. It's not nearly as cute as this one; it's just clear. But still, I am pleased with it because I can see how much olive oil is left and it doesn't spill.

Now I have two "afters" without "befores." My new dish soap pump will hopefully be with me a long time. As you may recall I have tried so many of these (including olive oil holders!) and finally went with the pump. But my last pump wasn't working out for me. The soap was oozing out of the wrong places. This one looked sturdy and like it was made just for dish soap so I'm counting on it to last.

You know, I take back what I wrote about being most excited about the spice rack. I am actually most excited about this silverware holder. Before I had a plastic white one. Why live that way when these lovely wooden (bamboo?) ones are not very expensive! Every time I open the drawer I smile. (Frank does too, although he would be embarrassed that I'm telling you that.)

And speaking of bargains, B, B and B let me use my 20% off even though it had expired AND allowed me to throw in my $5 off coupon too. Y'all, I got all this for $50! That's a spice rack, a silverware holder, a dish soap pump and an olive oil dispenser! Okay, my male readers (if they have even gotten this far) probably don't realize that's a bargain but trust me, it is! It's practically a kitchen remodel. I'm done for awhile though. Next thing to go, I'll let Leo take a crack at fixing it.

Bend it Like Leo

Leo wrapped up his fourth and final week of soccer lessons. (Well, he really only had three because we had to miss the week we went to the beach. I hope this won't set him back for his whole soccer career!) He better continue because we invested all this money in cleats, socks and shin guards!

Here he is showing off his gear:

Focused on the game:
They have these cute "magic carpets" to warm-up, stretch and take water breaks.

Stretching those hamstrings on his magic carpet.

Gus was totally caught up in all the action.

And here are a couple of videos--one of Leo goofing off with Gus after soccer and one from soccer (that only a grandparent could love).

Permission to Complain

There are a few things that drive me crazy that are not socially acceptable to complain about.

Coughing, for instance: I think coughing is the most irritating sound. I think I also hate its' inconsistency. Someone may cough and then cough again in 30 seconds. They may cough four times in a row and then not again for another four minutes. It may go loud cough, hacking cough, no cough, little cough, back to hacking cough. Ugh, pick a cough and stick with it! There's not even a response to coughing like "bless you" for sneezing. (Sneezing is way better than coughing, by the way).

But it's not cool to complain about coughing. Why? Because it's not their fault. They don't mean to cough. I myself have been known to cough. Sometimes people cough because they're sick. Who complains about sick people? Me. I do. All I know is that when someone coughs, I want to yell, "Shut up!" But I can't because that would be crazy.

Here's one similar to coughing (in that it's a bodily function that comes from the mouth): Baby Spit-up. I have a big chip on my shoulder about spit-up. When I complain about my children spitting up, people often say, "Oh, it's no big deal."

To these people I think but don't say: You're right. It's not as big a deal as kids starving to death in Africa. But it's a huge pain. I change Gus' clothes about four times a day. I change my own clothes at least twice. I'm constantly wiping up floors, chairs and the shoulders of friends who come over. I bring four bibs, six burp cloths and spare onesies everywhere I go. When I put Gus down to sleep, he often spits up which not only disrupts his sleep but then I have to change a sheet, change his clothes, change his swaddle blanket. Once he spit up all over the church pew and left a pool, a pool I tell you, of spit up. Forget about tummy time unless I want the poor kid to be face down in a puddle of regurgitated milk.

But I can't say any of that. It would sound like I'm not grateful for my healthy baby or that I think it's his fault. So spit-up, just like coughing, is annoying but taboo for venting.

My last complaint: the rain. This one's a little different. I don't have a problem with the rain itself but more of a beef with this cliche exchange:

Me: "Ugh, it's raining."

Some unoriginal person: "What? Are you going to melt?"

No, the rain doesn't make you melt. It doesn't hurt you in any way to get wet from the rain. However, it's annoying, right? I mean, nobody likes to go outside in the pouring rain unless they're in a music video. Who likes to get soaking wet after they've gotten dressed and flat-ironed their hair? If people liked getting wet in the rain then the umbrella companies sure wouldn't sell a lot of product. So rain, while necessary, is not totally convenient (but clearly, not okay to complain about).

And if you have a complaint about this blog, go get your own blog and complain about it!

Beach Boys

We took our first vacation as a family of four to Tybee Island, Georgia. Some highlights: Leo being so brave in the ocean, Gus putting his feet in the ocean for the first time and lots of fun times in the pool. Some lowlights: Frank finally getting burnt after a summer of risky no-sunscreen-applying, Leo being a general menace and torrential rain on the drive back.

Here are some pictures (and of course we only photographed the highlights because who wants a picture of Leo being a menace?)

This is how Gus spent most of his beach time--in this cool tent-umbrella contraption we borrowed from friends:

Frank said, "If only Gus could sit up, this could be our Christmas card!"

Leo LOVED the ocean. He and Frank frolicked in there. I tried to play with him in the ocean and he told me that he preferred to swim with Daddy. (I was very insulted, especially after I had sung my cover of "Ring around the Roses" which I changed to "Ring Around the Ocean...Splashes, Splashes..."

Big news: Gus became a thumb sucker on this trip!
Tybee is close to Savannah so we had dinner there one night. Leo said, "Savannah is a silly place!" (He came to this conclusion after seeing cars driving on the trolley tracks.)

The condo we stayed in had a great pool!

Gus in his happy place
Ready for a day at the beach!

Sunrise view from our condo:

Guys, get off your computers so we can hit the beach!

The Hoarders' Convention

"NEVER AGAIN!"

This is what I said to Frank after returning from the bi-annual kids' consignment sale. It's not that I'm a snob (because I have no problem with my kids wearing used stuff), it's just that I am not a consignment sale person. And this is actually a really nice consignment sale. The owners are very selective about the stuff that gets sold. I appreciate that. I just don't like the act of shopping at it (or any consignment sale).

Frank is much better at it. He loves to go on Sunday because that's the 50% off day. This time I took the half-off God's Day shift because he had work to do. Both of us thought we were getting the short end of the stick.

Here are a few things that were said at the consignment sale (mostly in the very long checkout line) that I just couldn't relate to:

"I got to shop early because I consigned my stuff. I got so much stuff!" (Huh? You sold your junk and bought more junk? What is this, a swap meet?)

"I bought twelve Halloween costumes! I'm set for years. And if they don't wear them at Halloween, they can be dress-up clothes!"

"I came all four days. The first day I scoped it out and the next few days my mom and I shopped."

"I got so much stuff. I mean, some of the shirts were like, a dollar. Even if you don't like it, who cares?"

"I heard about this other consignment sale. They have really good stuff, not that we really need anything."

"I'd rather buy stuff for her (baby) than new shoes for me." (Obviously.)

"I'm just going to go ask a question. I'll be right back. Hold my place in line." (Totally uncool consignment sale behavior! I mean, I stepped out to look at dirty exersaucers and did I ask for my place back? No! It set me back about a dozen people!)

When Leo and Gus have grown out of their baby/toddler clothes I know I will be tempted to participate in this. Please, do me a favor. Refer me to this blog.

P.S. I couldn't decide between this title and "Little Shop of Hoarders." I will use that one someday soon.

Carpooling and Kicking with Leo

September has brought a lot of new activities for Leo: he started preschool AND soccer.

He goes to a Presbyterian church for preschool. (Sorry, Catholic church. Your tuition was higher and you lacked the carpool line this lazy mom desired.) Leo's buddies John and Dawson also go to this preschool but they are in the three-day class. Leo is in the four-day class because he is gifted. Just kidding. He's in the four-day class because that's all we could get into since the three-day class was booked. But it's working out great. Dawson's mommy kindly takes Leo to school each morning that Dawson goes. They go in the carpool line which is a lot of fun. Then I pick Leo up at 1:00 and he chats the whole way home about his adventures. Here are some things he's told me:

--He was "The Weatherman" last week. His job was to look out the window and then announce to the class what the weather was like.

--He would like to be the "flag holder" one day.

--When the flag holder holds the flag they say the pledge. I only know this because he started saying something that was the same cadence as the pledge and then Dawson's mommy confirmed it.

--Someone named Ellie had a birthday and they had cupcakes.

--He sits on a star that says "L-E-O" for story time. His class' name is "The Stars."

--They have story time every day and they sing some song about how they should be quiet.

--Ms. Amanda, his teacher, calls pee-pee "tinkle."

--At first he wouldn't eat his snack because it was on a paper towel but then he did. He even throws his paper towel away. (His teacher actually told me that.)

--He didn't get to play in the Diego house one day. It wasn't his turn. He had to do another activity. (Seriously, he said "activity.")

On an unrelated note, (well, sort of related to the "tinkle" comment), Leo now pees standing up. And not only that, he just goes into the bathroom by himself, lifts the seat, pulls down his pants and goes! It's so funny to see him do that. I did so good training Frank to put the seat down and now I'll need to train Leo too. Or maybe I should just accept that I'm outnumbered!

Now, for his other first--soccer. Leo is in a sports class again but this one is outdoors and it's four weeks of soccer and four weeks of t-ball. Leo does okay with the soccer skills but he sometimes has trouble following directions. For instance, for one "activity," they were supposed to dribble a soccer ball from one side of the field to another. Leo just stood there looking very confused. The coach had to keep saying, "Leo, kick the ball!" after all the other kids were already back to the other side. Oh, well. Maybe we'll have better luck with t-ball!

Here are some pics from the last couple of weeks:

The cutest part about soccer is how he wears those high socks and shin guards!

The only "first day of preschool" pic I have is this one and it's not even the real first day!
Leo zonked out after a rough day at preschool. I love how he's sleeping on his stuffed Chicken. (She-Liz, that is the chicken you gave him!")

Leo took this picture of me! I think he is a budding photographer. (Well, there was another one with fingers in front of the screen.)

If you look closely, you can see that Gus' shirt says "Gus." We are having a bit of a cool front so Gus is sporting pants for the first time in his life!

Here's Gus and me on our "date night." Frank and Leo went to the Braves game and Gus and I stayed in. It was so lovely!

Call the Guiness Book of World Records. Leo ate 17 mini pancakes one morning! (Oh, and that's syrup in the coffee mug.)

Gus has been here three months

It seems like just yesterday our little Gus was born. But really it was like 90 yesterdays ago! While Leo still seems to require more of our time and attention, Gus is content to take a back-seat to his older, more demanding brother. I'm not sure yet if this is an age thing or a personality thing. Probably both.

Little Gus is just so content. Did I say that last month? He's not jolly. He's not angry. He's just content.

But he does smile a lot more now! When he sees a new face he gives a big grin. And then before you know it, it's gone. He even laughs every now and then. Leo was belly laughing at nine weeks old. We haven't gotten that from Gus yet. Then again, we also haven't had a crying spell that we can't squash with Gus either, and we had plenty of those with Leo!

Two things they have in common: Gus is still spitting up a ton, maybe even more than Leo did! He's actually on medication and even that's not helping. Poor guy. Poor us. Poor all of our clothes and furniture! The good news is he's not upset about it. Just me. I hate spit up! There, I said it!

And the other thing they have in common is that they are both AWESOME night sleepers. I sometimes feel guilty telling people that because I rarely encounter babies who sleep through the night as quickly as my boys. But then I think about Leo and his terrible napping and Gus and his terrible spit up and I don't feel so bad. I mean, I should get something good, right?

Gus goes to sleep between 8 and 9 and we don't hear from him until after 7am. Sometimes after 8. Okay, today he did wake me up at 5am but that hardly ever happens. And I just gave him a little snack and he went right back to sleep. (By the way, breastfeeding is so much better with all these multi-media devices--Blackberry, iPad, etc. I didn't have all this stuff when Leo was a baby!)

During the day, he's more wakeful. It used to be that when we took him in the car, especially right after eating, he would fall right asleep. Now he stays up. He's got things to do, people to see.

Leo is still "aggressive with love" towards Gus. I cannot seem to get him to be gentle. Just yesterday Gus was propped up on the Boppy and Leo was kindly tickling his feet and saying, "Hey, Gussy Gussy." The next thing I know, Leo's got Gus by the ankles and is starting to drag him across the rug!

But did Gus freak out? Nope. Just me.

I think now that Gus is three months he's not considered a newborn anymore. He's officially a baby. And we love everything about him--his fleeting smile, his rolls, his chins, his long eyelashes, his demeanor, his fuzzy hair and even his chronic sour milk smell!

The Exercise Class Wave

Last Tuesday was my first official day back teaching spin. There was a little confusion about how old babies have to be to go in the play center (12 weeks or 3 months? I thought the former and I was wrong) so I ended up bringing Gus to class with me.

Most of the people in my class were familiar faces and they were cooing and oohing over Gus. They didn't mind him being there at all. Although I do think his cuteness was distracting them from working to their full potentials.

About twenty minutes into class one lady packed up her bike and left. I came to the conclusion that she had a problem with me, my class or even my infant. Others I've mentioned this to disagreed. They offered other possibilities such as: she could have not felt well; she could have always planned to leave at that time; she may have suddenly realized she forgot to be somewhere.

But I know, after almost six years of fitness class instructing, how to spot a unsatisfied customer. Here are the facts:

--It's totally fine to leave a class early, especially if it's one of the reasons stated above. But twenty minutes in is an odd time to leave a class. Often people leave ten minutes before the end, maybe 15. They simply can't stay the full hour. That's okay. Another common check-out time is halfway, after 30 minutes. They figure they got in 30 minutes and now they'll either leave or go do something else for 3o minutes.

--Coming late is also fine. Some people feel bad about coming into a class late. They'll say, "I came to take your class but I got here ten minutes late and didn't want to disrupt it." I really don't mind people coming in late. If the class isn't very full, I'm happy to get more bodies in there. (It's not my favorite when new people come in late, though, because then I have to get off my bike to set them up and explain things which IS disruptive.)

--The main reason I know that this lady didn't like my class was because, as she left, she DID NOT wave at me. If you are leaving a class early for one of the above--and I'll just say it, approved reasons--then you would wave, right? You would give that polite little wave to the instructor that tells me, "It's not you, it's me." And then I'll know that you either: realized you had to be somewhere, only wanted to work out for a little while or you felt like you were going to die. All fine reasons to leave a class early.

The wave I'm describing is much like "the confident wave" I referred to in a previous blog. It's not a hand-flapping side-to-side "HELLO!!" kind of wave. It's not a baby-style up and down "BYE BYE" type gesture either. It's more like a nonchalant, cool wave: Hand up, couple of tiny shakes side to side and then you're out the door. A "Thank you" and a smile really seals the deal. Then we know that we're good, our class is good and our baby is good. Oh, and unlike the confident wave, you can do this one even if you're ugly.

Now, if you're leaving because class was tough and you're about to go to the hospital, I don't really have a wave for that.

God Bless Gus

Labor Day weekend we welcomed Gus into the Catholic Club. Whereas I had to go through months of classes to be in the club, Gus is now a "cradle Catholic." We were so happy that our family came to celebrate with us: My parents, Frank's parents, My sister ("Tia"), and Aunt Julie and Uncle Doug, who also served as Gus' Godparents! We got to meet their son, Franklin, for the first time. He is just a 2.5 months older than Gus so they will be close cousins. The only people missing were Uncle David, Aunt Laura and Cousin Ellie. But they had a good excuse; they are expecting another close cousin of Gus and Franklin's in the next few weeks. (Side note: I will be that baby's Godmother!)

Here is the whole group at Gus' baptism:

Proud Godparents and parents with a confused Gus: "What is this Catholic thing and why am I wearing a dress?"

With cousin Franklin!

Franklin, Leo and Gus--future longhorns. You're outnumbered, Aggie/Bear Ellie!

It's a Matter of Time

Whenever I've had to list out my strengths in a job interview, I usually say that I'm organized, proactive and very healthy. The healthy one usually gets a laugh or a perplexed look so I then add, "I really never get sick. It's helpful at work because I always show up."

It's true that I am still very healthy and I rarely get sick. It's also true that I generally show up--to teach spin class, to an event I've RSVP'd to or to appointments. I cannot, however, seem to show up anywhere on time.

I wouldn't say that I'm chronically late. I'm just always rushing and cutting it close. I don't allow time for any mishaps or mini-catastrophes. For instance, the other day I was heading out the door for the kids' doctor's appointments and I was proud of myself because I was leaving at 10am and the appointment was at 10:30. I then discovered ants in the house on the way out the door and that set me back about four minutes. After starting to leave again and then going back for Leo's favorite muffins, a pit stop and dropping something in the mail, I had lost about six more minutes. That's how I ended up leaving at 10:10 instead of 10am.

Woah, did I just write a whole paragraph on the tragedy of leaving ten minutes later than planned? And did you just read it?

I'll try to liven up this blog. I DO have a point or two:

1. I am addicted to being productive. That is why I cut things so close when it comes to timing. Now, this is not like saying "I'm a perfectionist" as many people do in the aforementioned interview scenario. I'm not masking a strength as a flaw. It really can be a flaw. If I have an hour, I want to get as many things done as I can in that hour so that, when that hour is over, I can say, "Wow. I did a lot." So if it's time to head out the door to go somewhere but I think I can cram in one more thing, I'll do it. The idea of showing up somewhere early makes me feel like, "Well, I could have put those clothes in the dryer. I could have sent that email. I could have brushed my teeth (Ew, I hope I didn't leave the house without doing that.)"

So I think if I could just accept that I can't get 27 things done in an hour, I think I could better manage my time. Also, I need to get comfortable with the idea that being early is okay.

2. I've realized that if I don't feel like I have TONS of time, like the kind of time where you wonder how you will ever even need all that time to get ready, then I will not leave on time. And if I think I have just enough time, that's a recipe for being late.

Yikes. Even my two points didn't do anything for this topic. Still, it was cathartic for me and hopefully helped you explore your own issues (if you have any) with time management.

Or maybe it just put you to sleep and therefore made you late for wherever you were going after reading this blog. If that is the case, I apologize.