Eat a sandwich!

This kid lives on crackers and air. I don't even understand it. There are SO many things he won't eat. My tiny half-breed won't even touch beans! It breaks my heart.

Last night we found a way to get him to eat a little broccoli and tofu. The secret is to play off his interest in video games like Mario Kart Wii and other racing games where the player can issue a special attack at their opponents. I assigned a surprise attack to each bite of broccoli or tofu, which I revealed to Ira after he bit it. We came up with so many: lightning bolts, super sticky maple syrup, slippery feet, bumble bees, etc. Ira then used these imaginary attacks on dad, who was a great sport to play along and pretend he was being chased by bees or reacting to a taser (don't tase me bro!).

While we won't have the energy to do this every night, it was so relieving to see Ira actually eat a proper serving of food. Phew!

Not Looking Good

The Not Hot Police won't let Leon get a certain pair of "licensed character" pajamas from Target. The deputy Not Hot Policeman has also frowned upon this combo: Snuggle Plus! (Snuggie knockoff) + microfiber robe. However, it is a warm, cozy concoction and when combined with a glass of wine, becomes X-treeemley intoxicating. I could basically hibernate for the next 10 hours in this. "Look in the mirror and see if you see hot," he says. I most certainly do not see hot, but I do see SNUG.

Parenting fail

Oh, dear. I am so, so, SO fired. Tuesday night while Leon was at band
practice, Ira got into a paint tray and did some painting of his own.
Ooops. I totally missed that when I was doing a cursory clean up of
the room before I started cooking myself a late dinner. After he finished
his handiwork, Ira came to tell me, "Mama, I painted!" Bummer.

Light load

I'm fortunate to have great friends with kind hearts and words. Two thoughts I keep having:
1. Stop feeling so guilty.
2. Make peace with grief.
Bonus: Crack me open a Scrimshaw.

Ugh. Let's lighten the mood around here. Now for the punny farts, I mean funny parts, as someone once said.

Whenever we make a big purchase, not really moneywise, but big in size, I always fret about how we're ever going to get it home in either one of our TINY silver cars. Because how could one POSSIBLY transport a full size sofa without a truck?! However, Leon always comes through with his amazingly compact, metrosexual Volkswagen. In the past this car has held: the aforementioned sofa, the ENTIRE Frenchmen set up plus three adults, a crib, a very big Christmas tree, half of our old apartment, full camping gear for three people and a dog, and that's including a tent for the damn dog. Leon loves to remind me that they don't have SUVs in Germany. They make their Ikea trips in Volkswagens, too.
This picture shows Leon's car loaded up with Ira's new twin-sized, mini loft bed, the accompanying matress and a set of drawers. Yeah, I know. Take it easy.