Some of our favorites:
Bennett wanted to take a turn as photographer as well. I was nervous to hand over my camera, but he did a great job!
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Flashlight Fun
Our good friend Ridge came over to play this afternoon and we discovered that flashlights (thankful to have two!) + dark room + camera = wicked cool pictures!
Some of our favorites:
Bennett wanted to take a turn as photographer as well. I was nervous to hand over my camera, but he did a great job!
Some of our favorites:
Bennett wanted to take a turn as photographer as well. I was nervous to hand over my camera, but he did a great job!
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
A Piggy Tale
One of the items that has been reoccurring addition to Bennett's "Wish Wish" recently has been a pig. As far as I could gather, this meant a piggy bank, probably inspired by the snarky porcine character on Toy Story. The details of the desired pig varied from a one with polka dots to a big blue pig and once a pink pig with flowers.
The other day, as I put away clean laundry in Dayton's room I looked up and discovered, much to my delight, a ceramic piggy bank long ago tucked away on an upper closet shelf. The "My First Bank" pig was pink, decorated with a baseball, glove and bat and even filled with money! It had been displayed in Bennett's nursery but hadn't found a home in his big boy room, so I'd put it away and completely forgotten about it.
When I came downstairs and shared the discovery with my little guy he was absolutely beside himself with joy. Soon after unveiling the gift of the century, I sent the following photo and text to Jeff:
"Look what I found! B is over the moon. "Was this on my wish wish??" Dreams can come true..."
B was completely enamored with his pig. He wanted it with him at every moment. It rode in his carseat as we ran errands, but had to wait in the car rather than accompany us into the store. It sat next to him as he used the bathroom. It perched on the table to watch us as we ate lunch. I offered many warnings that the pig was breakable and admonishments to be careful. He was. Bennett dutifully carried the beloved vessel with two hands at all times and walked instead of ran as he toted his new best friend.
Unfortunately, he is three. And the son of an extremely klutzy mother. So, round about 4:30 in the afternoon, Jeff received this text:
"Uh-oh. So, so much sadness."
Bennett was absolutely devastated. It broke my heart to hold him as he mourned his long-awaited pig, departed too soon, tears dripping off the end of his nose and wailing "but I was careful!". When he finally calmed enough to discuss the options, we agreed to use some of the money from his bank to buy a new, less breakable pig. I scoured the internet for plastic piggy banks and planned to purchase one first thing the next morning. As I put Bennett in bed for the night he reminded me to help him find a plastic pig when he woke up. One with polka dots.
My dear son has never been so keen on getting dressed to leave the house as he was the following morning. We had to wait for sleep-loving Dayton to wake up and and eat breakfast, but as soon as possible we were out the door in search of a new pig. Happily, the Container Store delivered, and we found multiple colors of plastic piggy banks from which to choose. Sadly, none of the pigs were polka dotted. But Bennett overcame his disappointment and agreed to allow me to add polka dots in his choice of paint colors once we arrived home. Soon, my son and daughter were both proud owners of shiny new piggies.
He chose his paint colors (blue, yellow and black) and helped me pick colors for Dayton's pig (white, pink and purple). During nap time I set to work painting polka dots. B was satisfied with the results.
And then, just a few hours after nap, another tragedy.
More wailing and woe. Fortunately for us all, this was not a fatal injury. Jeff made a quick trip to the store for super glue and I performed reconstructive surgery. The only evidence of Piggy the Second's brush with death is that Bennett is now aware that plastic does not equal indestructible and no longer tosses his pig in the air while jumping on the couch.
Bennett and Dayton both greatly enjoy their piggies. B kindly donated some of his change to his little sister so she could practice her fine motor skills by inserting five pennies in the slot, begging me to open the bottom, retrieving the change and repeating the routine fifteen hundred times a day. Bennett enjoys emptying the contents, replacing 1/5 of the coins and leaving the rest strewn about the floor for me to slip on or the vacuum cleaner to eat. We're still working on that "value of money" thing.
So far, we have now survived two whole weeks with zero pig-related mishaps. For that I am extremely grateful. And so are the pigs.
The other day, as I put away clean laundry in Dayton's room I looked up and discovered, much to my delight, a ceramic piggy bank long ago tucked away on an upper closet shelf. The "My First Bank" pig was pink, decorated with a baseball, glove and bat and even filled with money! It had been displayed in Bennett's nursery but hadn't found a home in his big boy room, so I'd put it away and completely forgotten about it.
When I came downstairs and shared the discovery with my little guy he was absolutely beside himself with joy. Soon after unveiling the gift of the century, I sent the following photo and text to Jeff:
"Look what I found! B is over the moon. "Was this on my wish wish??" Dreams can come true..."B was completely enamored with his pig. He wanted it with him at every moment. It rode in his carseat as we ran errands, but had to wait in the car rather than accompany us into the store. It sat next to him as he used the bathroom. It perched on the table to watch us as we ate lunch. I offered many warnings that the pig was breakable and admonishments to be careful. He was. Bennett dutifully carried the beloved vessel with two hands at all times and walked instead of ran as he toted his new best friend.
Unfortunately, he is three. And the son of an extremely klutzy mother. So, round about 4:30 in the afternoon, Jeff received this text:
"Uh-oh. So, so much sadness."Bennett was absolutely devastated. It broke my heart to hold him as he mourned his long-awaited pig, departed too soon, tears dripping off the end of his nose and wailing "but I was careful!". When he finally calmed enough to discuss the options, we agreed to use some of the money from his bank to buy a new, less breakable pig. I scoured the internet for plastic piggy banks and planned to purchase one first thing the next morning. As I put Bennett in bed for the night he reminded me to help him find a plastic pig when he woke up. One with polka dots.
My dear son has never been so keen on getting dressed to leave the house as he was the following morning. We had to wait for sleep-loving Dayton to wake up and and eat breakfast, but as soon as possible we were out the door in search of a new pig. Happily, the Container Store delivered, and we found multiple colors of plastic piggy banks from which to choose. Sadly, none of the pigs were polka dotted. But Bennett overcame his disappointment and agreed to allow me to add polka dots in his choice of paint colors once we arrived home. Soon, my son and daughter were both proud owners of shiny new piggies.
He chose his paint colors (blue, yellow and black) and helped me pick colors for Dayton's pig (white, pink and purple). During nap time I set to work painting polka dots. B was satisfied with the results.
And then, just a few hours after nap, another tragedy.
More wailing and woe. Fortunately for us all, this was not a fatal injury. Jeff made a quick trip to the store for super glue and I performed reconstructive surgery. The only evidence of Piggy the Second's brush with death is that Bennett is now aware that plastic does not equal indestructible and no longer tosses his pig in the air while jumping on the couch.
Bennett and Dayton both greatly enjoy their piggies. B kindly donated some of his change to his little sister so she could practice her fine motor skills by inserting five pennies in the slot, begging me to open the bottom, retrieving the change and repeating the routine fifteen hundred times a day. Bennett enjoys emptying the contents, replacing 1/5 of the coins and leaving the rest strewn about the floor for me to slip on or the vacuum cleaner to eat. We're still working on that "value of money" thing.
So far, we have now survived two whole weeks with zero pig-related mishaps. For that I am extremely grateful. And so are the pigs.
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