The Kraken speaks

Some of my favorite speeches from my little man . . .

~With butt thrust high in the air "Momma! Watch me toot."

~I walked into the room where previously an entire sofa was covered with clean, folded and sorted clothing, but now the clothing was all over the room. When I asked my guilty toddler what happened he replied, "Big big big guy in room. Big mess. Ran outside. All gone."

~"Candy bar please. Daddy said ok." Um, daddy was at work.

~I sat down to change him into his pjs and he said "No momma. Space. Need my space."

~"Rosie eat vegetables. Just a little. Good share!" He was trying to get rid Rosie to eat the food he didn't want.

~I was really sad the other day and started crying. The Kraken came over, planted a big kiss on my cheek and said "OK momma. No sad. Everything ok." Then I got a big hug.

~Every night he asks to read "a couple books."

~We were driving around a neighborhood when from the back seat I heard "No look at houses momma. So tired of look at houses. No want new house." Perhaps we do that a little too often : )

I find it rather amazing what a little 2 year old mind can come up with!

Boys love toots

Boys like toots. And boys like poop. And boys like all manner of yuck. At least my boy does. I promise I didn't push him toward grossness. I didn't call him over to investigate Rosie's first poops. I don't get excited when I audibly fart in the grocery store. His love of ick is a genetic mutation passed on from man to man. There is no other rationale. None.

So when my son wakes me in the morning with "Yuck momma. Big big big poopie." I pray that the poo is still in the diaper.

And when he rushes over and wrestles with my arm to see the bucket of yuck that Miss Rose has created in her diaper, I can only roll my eyes and blame his daddy and his daddy and his daddy and his daddy . . .

And when we smell something terrible, he will laugh hysterically and shriek "momma stinks!" even if he has no idea where the stench is coming from.

And so we I audibly toot in the grocery store, I will laugh and say "Did you toot Mr. Kraken?" and he will say "Uh Huh!" Because boys love toots. And boys are expected to toot in public. And I don't feel the least bit bad for making him take credit for my passing gas. Not even a little.

Don't be alarmed, but I'm going to be in here awhile.

I have decided that I need a new kitchen hobby. Why?

1. I don't spend quite enough time in my kitchen. Three meals for me, 5 meals/snacks for the Kraken, 2 baby food feedings for Rosie and 1 family dinner everyday leaves me craving more quality time with my pots and pans.

2. I have way too much time on my hands. The other day I sat down for literally 5 minutes before I found something to do. Okay, so maybe I just forgot what I was in the middle of doing, but whatever it was couldn't have been that important.

3. Baby food peas are army green in color. I always thought peas where by definition, pea green. I'm not very comfortable giving goo to Rosie that I wouldn't eat myself. Call me crazy.

4. There is nothing sexier than a woman covered in vegetable puree. "Is that poo on your shoulder?"

So, I said to myself, "Self, let's make homemade baby food for Rosie and hide vegetables in desserts for the Kraken." I am going to deceive my kraken and hope it's delicious ala Jessica Seinfeld.

Tonight I paced myself and chose three vegetables: a head of cauliflower, a bag of carrots and a large butternut squash. The cauliflower was dissected first and was deceptively easy. Steam, blend, aliquot (aka split into bags for you non science geeks), store and freeze. Check. Carrots came next. Peel, steam, blend, gag, aliquot, gag, store, gag, freeze, wipe random carrot splatter off face and gag. Something about an enormous pile of liquidish carrots makes my tummy uncomfortable. (And for this very reason I must apologize to my sister who had a gagging/vomit moment during childhood while eating cooked carrots. We never let her live that day down and, let's be honest, no one ever believed her. She was totally trying to get out of the 'no dessert until you eat your carrots' threat. Today I sorta understand. Karma just jumped up and bit me in the butt.)

Lastly came the butternut squash. I don't know anything about squash. Was I supposed to thump it like a cantaloupe before purchasing? Was I supposed to smell it, shake it, hold it up to the light? All I know is that in order to split this gourd down the middle I used three different knives and my meat tenderizing hammer. My husband kept asking if I needed help, but I was bound and determined not to let this damn squash beat me. And it didn't. Take that you stupid squash.

An hour and a half later I was left with 4 bags of cauliflower, 4 bags of butternut squash, and 8 bags of carrots all in 1/2 cup portions. Tomorrow I shall attempt coffee cake with squash and applesauce, scrambled eggs with cauliflower and chicken nuggets with carrots. I will let you know what the Kraken thinks.