Spoonful Test Blog

Friday, April 14, 2017

Partners in Crime

Gibson and Georgie have had a bit of a rocky start to their relationship.

Up until recently, there was a lot of avoidance (on Gibson's part), teasing (that would be Georgie), and yelling/hitting/sitting on top of/hair pulling (Gibson ugh).  And lots of me trying to keep them separate to minimize the damage to poor angel baby Georgie's hair and ribs.

But now, Georgie can hold her own a little better, and they're becoming fast friends!  I mean, it's kind of a tumultuous friendship, but it's been so wonderful to watch!

They spend time hanging out in Gibson's bedroom, like the same shows (we're obsessed with Paw Patrol, of course), and make each other belly laugh all the time.  Usually by saying the word "diaper" as loudly as they can, which is pretty perplexing, but apparently they like it.

But along with this new friendship comes TROUBLE, my friends.  RIGHT HERE IN RIVER CITY.

Because the only thing my kids love more than yelling "DIAPER!" in public places is getting into mischief together.  Let me set the scene:


*It is dinner time.  We are sitting at the table.  The children have food.  This has been the routine every day for their entire lives, yet somehow sitting and eating is a BRAND NEW concept for them.*

Me: Okay, guys, it's time to sit and eat!

Gibson: *stands up on his chair*

Me: Gibson, sit down.

Georgia: *giggling; stands up on her chair*

Me: Georgie, sit down.

Gibson: *stands up on his chair* COME ON GEORGIE, STAND UP! HAHAHAHA!

Georgia: *stands up on her chair* HIIIIIII BUBBA!  I STANDING! HAHAHAHAHA!


Both kids: *dissolve in giggles, sit down, eat a bite*

Gibson: *starts to stand up, but still kind of sitting so I obviously won't notice* Look Georgie!

Georgia: HAHAHA BUBBAAAAAAA! *stands up because she's impressionable and Gibson is her hero*



Both kids: *sit down giggling, slightly scared of the look on my face.  It will happen again tomorrow. And probably every day for the rest of my life.*


Let's look at another example, in which Georgie is the instigator:

*I am in the bathroom doing...um, bathroom things, and have mistakenly left our bedroom door open.  Much to Danny's dismay, our bedroom is a pit where clothes and dirty socks go to die.  I'm not sure what color our carpet is at the moment.  Maybe I'll clean it today, but probably I won't.  Sorry, Danny.*

Me: Lalala, the kids are watching Paw Patrol and I'm in the bathroom all by myself and I love being all by myself.

Georgia: *comes to bathroom* Mommy, what dooooing?

Me: Toilet things.  Go away.

Georgia: BYE! *stomps into her room, grabs five hundred blankets, stomps back out. Sees the open door at the end of the hall, imagines all the things she can destroy in there.*

Me: *Know exactly what is about to happen, but am powerless to do anything about it* GEORGIA NOOOOOOO!

Georgia: *yelling at the top of her lungs* COME ON BUBBA!  COME OOOOOOOOONNNNNN!


Both kids: *run as fast as they can down the hallway and crash into my bedroom to commence destruction*




Gibson: BUT WE ARE PLAYING AND JUMPING ON YOUR BED AND IT'S FUN! *gets in the closet and starts pulling Danny's ties out*

Georgia: *finds my wedding rings and tosses them somewhere*

I no longer only have one toddler trying to destroy the world.  And, it turns out, the second is so much more destructive than the first.  Her goal is to figure out how many things she can break/color on/throw before I get to her.  It.  Is.  Exhausting.

...but at least they're doing it together!  It really has been fun to watch their relationship develop, even if it means more work for me.  Maybe someday they'll learn to have fun WITHOUT destroying the house!  Maybe?  Please?

Thursday, January 12, 2017

God bless preschool.

Oh hey, blog and readers (if you're still there, which you might not be, which would be okay because I've been gone for approximately five years)!  

How are you?  Do you remember me?  I'm Erin.  The writer of this blog.  I have brown hair, look super tired, pale skin.  REMEMBER?

I've missed you!  Let's do a super duper quick update on life:

-We moved!  This involved Danny going on interviews, selling our house, moving in with Danny's parents, buying a new house, renovating the new house, and moving into the new house.  It was a lot.  We were very busy.  Still are.  But less so.  Also we live in the neighborhood Danny grew up in, and our kids will go to the elementary school he attended!  

-Georgia is almost 2, Gibson is almost 4!  They're big and I hate it because they used to be tiny.

-I don't actually hate that they're big all the time, because tiny means screaming babies.  Big means they can throw dirty clothes in the laundry chute and toss diapers in the trash can and talk to me and make "potty messes" on the toilet.

-Just kidding, I don't love potty messes.

-Gibson started preschool last week!  He goes twice a week for three hours.

That last point brings me to the reason I'm here today:




And she has no one to fight with, so it's QUIET and I am currently ALONE because she is in ROOM TIME and I'm listening to MUSIC. 

(Room time is when I banish my children to their rooms for an hour in the morning because they need to learn to play without mommy entertaining them.  Also mommy can do things like clean and poop with no children watching her. #momoftheyear)

Two years ago, Gibson was the exact age that Georgie is now.  And I was great with child and very uncomfortable.  And I didn't realize how wonderfully QUIET it was with only one child on the outside of my uterus.  

Now I appreciate quiet so much more.  Even though Georgie is an incredibly loud little thing, it's nothing compared to Georgie+Gibson+one million toys that each child thinks belong solely to them and should never be touched by their sibling.  Georgie on her own is practically silent, in comparison.  

...of course, I miss Gibson.  But he LOVES school, and it's only three hours.  And he gets to make art and be the napkin helper at snack time.  And it's QUIET IN MY HOUSE.  God bless preschool.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Thank you for this hard day.

You guys haven't seen me in awhile!  That is partly because I'm just the worst at sitting down and writing, and partly because my sweet Gibson and I have been having a rough go of it lately.

We have good days, for sure.  There are days when he is well-rested and happy, doesn't fight me on everything, and when I don't feel exhausted and grumpy.

But today has been a hard day.  We were all sick last week, and sleep has been hard to come by since then.  Both kids are exhausted and cranky, and it's just been a really, really hard day.

When I put Gibson down for his nap, we talked about how it had been a hard day, and how we could make the afternoon better.  After we talked, we prayed.  I prayed something like, "Please, please, please, God, let Gibson sleep.  Please" (in so many words).  And then Gibson prayed:

Dear Jesus,
Thank you for this hard day.



I'm so quick to thank God for the easy days.  For the days when I feel like #momoftheyear.  For the days that I get things done, play with AND feed my kids, and brush my teeth and/or hair without getting stressed out.

But how often do I thank Him for the hard days?  The days when every. single. thing. is a struggle?  When Gibson pushes his sister five thousand times?  When I yell way too much?  When I feel like running away to be by myself for like five minutes?


I don't handle hard days well.  My strategy is to just get through them, without yelling TOO much, or ripping my eyebrows out in frustration.  My instinct isn't to turn to God for help, much less to thank Him for the struggle.  My instinct is just to survive on my own.

Let me tell you: this isn't a particularly good strategy.

The hard days could be so much more than just surviving.  They could be an opportunity for me to show my kids grace, patience, gentleness, and understanding.  An opportunity to turn to Jesus for strength, instead of myself.  An opportunity to teach my kids about handling big emotions, and turning to God for help.  An opportunity to ask for forgiveness when I fail.  And a reminder that I just can't do it on my own, no matter how hard I try to be #momoftheyear.  I will fail, because I'm human and I'm just not strong enough on my own.

I'm thankful to my Gibson for that reminder.  I have been letting the hard days get the best of me lately, and it shows in how I interact with my family, and in how I interact with God.  I shouldn't allow hard days to define my life, my kids, or my relationship with God.  I need to find my strength in Him, instead of trying to summon strength I just don't have on my own.

Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:28-31

Thank you, God, for this hard day.  Please help me to learn from it, and to become more like you as a result of it.  Thank you for your unfathomable understanding, for your promises, and for your strength.

In case you were interested, the rest of Gibson's prayer went like this:

Dear Jesus,
Thank you for this hard day.  And thank you for watching Sid the Science Kid.  And I want to have NO dreams. 

In Jesus we pray, A-MAN

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Thursday, December 17, 2015


...it's me.

Like not blogging for two months.  Oops.

Also, are you tired of Adele yet?  Yes?

THEN YOU'RE A MONSTER.  Adele is a treasure.

Okay, the end.  HI!  I'm back!  I kept thinking, "OH!  I should blog today!"  And then my children would scream, and I would think, "NOPE GONNA CRY INSTEAD."

...but for real.  The past few weeks have been BAD.  Because, between my two gorgeous children, we have three nasty ear infections and at least one tooth coming.  So my life has been spent listening to shrieking, trying (in vain) to get tiny humans to sleep, and shoveling medication into little mouths.

But let's talk about the past two months, okay?

Gibson had oral surgery to remove his little fused teeth.  There was a teensy crack between them, and they became abscessed.  Poor dude.  But now he looks like a first grader, which is adorable!  And also sad, because he's only 33 months old.  ;)

He also decided to be potty trained!  It was amazing...he was just ready one day.  We are now 100% diaper-free, even at night.  The problem is that when he has to go potty during the night, he's an ABSOLUTE AND COMPLETE TERROR.  Not joking.  It involves a lot of shrieking (from him, not us), pleading (from us, not him), and silent weeping (that would be me).  And then he lays in bed awake for at least an hour...although the other night he was up for ALMOST THREE HOURS.  And then got up at his normal time.

Uggghhhhhh.  He's so incredibly overtired.

Georgie is 9 months old!!  She's getting big, weighing in at 19 pounds 11 ounces, and she's still super tall at 28.75 inches.  So she's slightly taller than Gibson was at 9 months, but 2.5 pounds lighter.  He's such a meatball. <3

Georgia can army crawl, and has crawled on her hands and knees a tiny bit the past couple of days.  She's an AMAZING eater...nothing like Gibson was at this age, praise the Lord.  If you put food in front of Georgie, she shovels it down.  No matter what it is.  Even if it's a dog turd.  She would definitely eat it.

Speaking of eating everything, I now know what it's like to have a child who puts literally every single thing in her mouth.  When he was tiny, Gibson would find a coin on the floor and hand it to me.  Georgie finds it and puts it in her mouth like a ninja.  It's exhausting.  I can vacuum five times a day, and she still finds invisible sticks to chew on.

I started an Etsy shop for digital chalkboard art!  It's pretty fun...I really love making them!

Danny only has 1.5 days left until Christmas break!  YAHOO!  I'm so excited.  I'm not sure whether I've ever been so excited for him to have a break...these kids have been crazy lately!

Gibson has been ridiculously adorable (in between tantrums, of course) lately!  I'll have to make a post about things he's been saying.  He's just like a tiny adult!  Ugh.  Time is moving quite quickly.  Some recent gems include:
-Singing Daniel Tiger songs in Ellie's "voice"
-This morning, Georgie was crying and he said, "Georgie, SHHH!  Use a gentle voice!  Use your words!  You have to ask me, not scream."
-I told him he could flush the toilet, and he said, "Okie dokie mommy!"
-One day I called him "babe," and he said, "I not babe, I'm Giffon!  Daddy is babe!"

So now you're mostly caught up on my life!  I think.  I probably forgot something super big and important, but you'll get over it.

Now, since you read all of that (you did, didn't you?), here are some photos of some beautiful people!

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Thursday, September 24, 2015

That's so Gibson

Recently, Gibson's favorite thing is to describe objects using adjectives.

So, he'll bring me his pillow and say, "Look mommy, I have my pillow!  It's so white."

Or, "My box is so brown."

"This chair is so big."

He's learning about adjectives!  Hooray!

...except he doesn't really know about adjectives.  Because for the past two days, he uses nouns as adjectives.  Like:

"It's Georgie!  She's so baby."

"Ellie is so doggy."

"Mommy, you're so mommy."

"This paper is so paper!"

I don't know about you, but I'm going to start using nouns as adjectives!  It's pretty much the cooliest thing.

This blog post is so words.

Your face is so smile.

My shirt is so fabric.

Her purse is so bag.

See?  We could start a trend!  This trend is so trend.

The end.

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Monday, August 24, 2015

Gibson=Weird Al

Lately, Gibson has been changing the words to Daniel Tiger songs, and it's hilarious.

First of all: Daniel Tiger is the bomb.  The songs from that show have been SUPER helpful lately...especially the song about being mad, and the one about solving problems yourself.

He has changed the words to both of those songs, and I think they're even better now!

The other day, Gibson didn't want to leave his fork on the table like I asked, so he dropped it on the floor.  I told him that he needed to pick it up, and he started to sing the mad song.

The lyrics go: When you feel so mad that you want to roar, take a deep breath *breathe heavily* and count to four!  One, two, three, four.

Gibson's version went:

When you feel so DROP that you want to DROP take a deep DROP *breathe heavily* and count to DROP.  One, two, three, DROP.

He sang it over and over and over and over and over and over and over.  Because he dropped his fork.

Just now, he was sitting at the table reading a book.  While reading the book, he started to sing the "solve a problem" song, which usually goes:

Try to solve a problem yourself, and you'll feel prou-ou-ou-oud!

Gibson's story went:

Once upon a time, there was a dog.  Old MacDonald had a FARMDOG.  EIEIO!  Try to DROP A DOG yourself and you'll feel PROOOOOOOOOUD drop a dog yourself and you'll feel PROOOOOOOOUD.

Um.  What?

At least the other drop song made a little bit of sense.  Kind of.  Not really.  But he had just dropped something, so I can see why he sang about it.  But dropping a dog?  What?

Maybe there was a dog in his book.  I'm not entirely sure.  It was very, very strange.

Do you guys think he'll be the next Weird Al?  Like, a Weird Al for toddlers who love Daniel Tiger!  That would be perfect!  Is there a market for that?

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Thursday, August 13, 2015

The Big Yucky

Gibson and I had an eventful morning.  I'll tell you all about it!


This is a poop story.


I was about to get Georgia up, and Gibson said, "Mommy, I pooped!"  So, like a good mom who values her sense of smell, I changed his diaper.  As far as poop goes, it was a pretty easy diaper.  Not very smushy, which is always good.

I went to get Georgie, and on my way I asked Gibson to throw his diaper away, because that's his job.

I came back, and the diaper was still on the floor.  So I asked him to throw it away again.  He said, "Okay, mommy!"  And bounced off toward the pantry with his diaper.

Gibson came back in the living room and said, "I threw the diaper away!  What's on my finger?"

So I looked at his finger, and there was a little speck on it that I assumed had come from the trash can.  Because sometimes he likes to go through the trash when he throws diapers away.

*Side story: Yesterday, Gibson found a maternity compression stocking box in my bedroom and played with it for awhile.  Weirdo.  It was his "box and ticket" (the ticket was the paper inside the box).  At nap time, I threw them away.  The next time he threw a diaper away, he found the box and ticket and took them out and glared at me like I had thrown away his favorite toy.  /end side story

He wiped the speck off his finger, and I thought nothing of it.

Then he disappeared into the kitchen again, and came running back yelling, "MOMMY, WHAT IS IT!  IT'S A BIG YUCKY!  THERE'S A BIG YUCKY!  MOMMY, IT'S A BIG YUCKY ON A FLOOR!"

So I went with him to the kitchen to find the big yucky.  He led me to the pantry where, you guessed it, there was a hunk of poop on the floor.

I finished feeding Georgie while Gibson continued telling me about the big yucky on the floor.  "It's a big yucky!  Don't touch it, Diffon!  It's yucky!  My hands are yucky!  I touched a big yucky!"

...it was at that moment that I realized he had poop on his hands.  Awesome.

I picked up the big yucky, threw it in the toilet, and tried to wash Gibson's hands.  Usually I use a foam wash that doesn't need to be rinsed when I wash his hands, because that's way easier than hovering him over the sink while he splashes in the water.  But I figured that wouldn't work for the poop, so we did a traditional hand washing.  Which involved a lot of soap on his shirt.  And mine.  And the counter.  And then water got everywhere.

But don't worry, Gibson was DELIGHTED to be washing the big yucky off his hands!

...the end.

I'm sorry for all the poop talk.  But YOU'RE WELCOME for the lack of pictures!

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