Dragon Wheels

This week has, if nothing else, removed all possible doubts about Andrew's two-year-old status. He seems to delight in testing us (and himself) to find out if the limits are really as firm as we say they are. For one thing, he's started to try and drag out his bedtime routine by insisting that he "needs someping" and then taking five minutes to explain what that "someping" is. Once we finally got wise to that (we're ashamed to admit how many days it took), we've tried to be a little firmer with the whole bedtime routine. But he also likes to see whose more stubborn: Andrew or his mom (and unfortunately, I'm not always sure of the outcome of this particular battle). Friday morning he pulled all of his books off the shelf and then refused to pick them up. Then, in one dramatic sweep of his arm, he knocked all of his tea party accoutrements onto the floor (which, incidentally, are not insignificant--his "tea party" keeps increasing in size so that he now has cups and saucers (of various shapes and sizes) for four toys, in addition to a place setting for himself and mommy and daddy). Well, a serious contest of wills ensued. I packed up the tea party settings and put them in "time-out" for the duration of the day, but I insisted that Andrew pick up all of his books. He would pick up one or two, and then deliberately knock over a chair or throw a few more books to express his displeasure with being forced into obedience. So, then, of course, he'd go into time out. I knew things were looking bad for me when Andrew started to voluntarily put himself into time out rather than put books away--I had to resort to (and carry out) one of the more dire threats in my book: I had to put dolly in time out. I also got a chance to appreciate some of the disadvantages of Andrew's increased vocabulary--periodically, he would throw himself on the floor and insist "I don't care! I don't care!" (which is, unfortunately, what I often tell Andrew when he throws a tantrum . . .). When I asked him what he didn't care about, he explained "the books." Well, after much trial and tribulation, we finally got the books put away. I considered this a minor victory (after all, I won--if after a long, drawn-out skirmish)--especially since I would much rather have just picked up the books myself. Sigh. I can foresee a long year or two ahead of us!

There were some positive notes of the week, however. Monday night we took Andrew up to see the Provo temple and had a short lesson on the importance of temples for family home evening. And even though Andrew loves to see the temple, he didn't waste any time in informing us when he thought the lesson was done: "I'm done. Let's go now." So we went to the BYU creamery for some ice cream, which Andrew thoroughly enjoyed (although I think the remnants of his ice cream are still in the freezer).

On Tuesday, I finally took Andrew to the photographers to get some two-year-old photos taken. Unlike the last time we were in a professional studio (at eighteen months), when Andrew refused to stand still for more than two seconds, this time he was actually pretty cooperative. I think he likes having his picture taken--and he definitely knows how to cheese it up for the camera (although we need to work on getting him to smile normally when he says "cheese"--he must have inherited some kind of genetic inability to smile on cue from his dad). Supposedly I'll get an electronic link for the pictures in about a week, so I'll have to post a link here. One of my favorite pictures involves Andrew wearing a cowboy hat, boots, and an old, old toy gun holster that I think used to belong to my brother. Andrew and Jacob usually use it to hold a little toy dagger that no longer has its handle. Anyway, the photographer asked Andrew to show her what he had in his belt, and Andrew proudly pulled out the dagger and showed it to her. Unfortunately (and perhaps to compensate) for being so cooperative *during* the shoot, Andrew refused to stay put while I was trying to look at and order pictures--at one point, one of the studio workers had to chase him down the hall outside the studio before he disappeared!

Friday morning (after the book incident), we went to Jeni's house and Andrew had a great time playing with his cousins. I think my favorite moment (unfortunately, we didn't have a camera readily available to capture this) was when Jacob, Emi, and Andrew all emerged from Emi's room wearing sparkly beads and princess shoes. Andrew was especially proud that he was wearing "my dolly's" shoes (i.e., Belle shoes). After an early lunch, we took the kids up to the Bean Museum, where they had fun running around looking at the animals, but were rather disappointed that the upstairs portion was closed (Jacob was particularly disconsolate).

Saturday morning Dan and I attended the Worldwide Leadership broadcast for the church with my parents. The young women in our ward kindly offered babysitting for kids so that parents could attend together and we took them up on it. I thought the broadcast was wonderful--in particular, I liked Elder Oaks distinction between homemaking (which involves creating a nurturing environment where families can grow together) and housekeeping (baking, cleaning, etc.). Like the speakers pointed out, you can delegate housekeeping, but you can't delegate homemaking. The distinction also made me hopeful, because, where I'm a pretty lousy housekeeper (what can I say--I find most of those tasks boring!), I think I might actually be able to make a home. With some help, of course. And that brings me to the second thing I appreciated about the broadcast--the repeated emphasis that the duties of making a home belong to *both* parents, and that the division of labor in the home is a matter for the individual couple to decide. Anyway, I came away from the meeting energized and hopeful about our little family.

That afternoon, after Andrew's nap (and, it must be confessed, mine), we drove up to Salt Lake to have dinner with Sarah and her family. They did themselves proud with some excellent chicken and beef fajitas, and the kids had cheese enchiladas. I think Dan was excited to have some real Mexican food--since my mom is allergic to peppers and my dad doesn't like anything "spicy," we're kind of limited in the kinds of Mexican foods we can make here. Andrew, of course, always enjoys an excuse to be with his cousins, and this was no exception. It's nice to see how well Andrew and Katie get along--as long as they're not competing for the same baby doll or bottle. They had a very nice tea party in the basement--Bubby would be so proud! Andrew also insisted on using the bathroom about five dozen times while we were there, only to poop in his diaper just as we were leaving. So apparently all those trips weren't to much avail.

One final note: my dad told me I needed to post about the "dragon wheels." A couple of days ago, we made a baked pasta dish for dinner, using wagon wheel pasta. Andrew helped me mix all the ingredients together, and he was especially excited about the noodles. At dinner, he ate a big (even by his standards) portion of pasta, but I noticed that he'd only eat the noodles that were still whole (or mostly so) and left the rest of the dish untouched. Then he would insist loudly that he needed "more dragon wheels!" Not surprisingly, it took us all just a minute to figure out what "dragon wheels" were--Andrew's charming mispronunciation of wagon wheels.

(Andrew, in batman pajamas I picked up at a yard sale, with milk all down his front from his breakfast cereal).