Yeehah, cowboy (part 2)

Last night while we were gorging ourselves at AnthonyCarlos's on our second pizza meal of the week, both daddies called. They were at an establishment selling honest-to-goodness Texas cowboy boots and needed to know what size the children's feet were. I have since been told that Jacob's boots are made from ostrich leather.

All this gave me an idea for our playdate this morning (with Carlos and his baby sister Anna). So many moms at playgroup have berated me for not yet taking my kids to Carousel Park, an equestrian center with pony rides for kids. I asked my boys if they'd like to do that, and Jacob just about exploded. He gathered himself somehow and was completely patient, brave, and wonderful when riding his new buddy, Red.



Isaac was a different story. At first he was stoked about riding a pony, but as soon as I bought his ticket and we sat down to wait, he changed his mind and was quite certain that he was not going to ride on that horse, to the point that he was going to take his ticket and rip it right up. I tucked his ticket safely away and told him he didn't have to ride if he didn't want to, but that he did have to wait for Jacob. He did, doing his best to sulk it up in a corner far away from us. After Jacob, Carlos, and Anna had all ridden and we were getting ready to leave, I sold Isaac's ride ticket to a lady as he watched. Suddenly his mind changed again, and he was very polite in wondering if he could have a turn after all. Of course.



"That wasn't so scary after all," he told me. "It was actually kind of fun."

My single-mom strategy

Daddy left yesterday morning; he will be gone for a week. He is driving to Texas, with family friend and colleague Mr. Jack, to pick up their blimp. Yes, I said BLIMP. That deserves a post in its own right.

But I digress. This week without our Daddy should be a relatively pleasant one, given the circumstances. It's the last week before preschool starts for Isaac, so we can actually meet with people and do things. Also, two other families who are friends of ours share our daddy-less plight. Can you say "movie night"?

A short list of our activities includes at least one dinner date with the fellow daddy-less, a return trip to the Delaware Natural History Museum, a playdate with a friend who's soon moving to Oregon, and another playdate with our darling friend Ella who we haven't seen in about a bazillion years. This is the kind of single-mommin'-it I enjoy; the kind where I run them so ragged that none of us has enough time to draw the breath that would let anyone ask where Daddy is.

Today, for example. First there was church, where I was sinfully pleased when Isaac asked if he and Jacob could go to the nursery, and thus I had a few quiet moments to myself. After lunch, we went to the birthday party of a beloved friend from preschool. An outdoor party filled to the brim with familiar faces from last year as well as lots of the birthday girls' cousins, all of similar ages. And a pinata filled with candy, which is enough to make anyone say cheese.



This party was unfortunately timed to make everybody skip a real nap. After Jake catnapped for 45 minutes and then screamed for 50 minutes solid, the boys and I went for a walk around the whole neighborhood to clear our heads. We played "Left, Right, or Straight?" with the double stroller until it was darker than Daddy would have allowed us to be out if he was home. But he's not! Hi Daddy!

Oh, how our garden does grow

Last weekend we got a wild hair to actually do something about our yard, which was beginning to reveal us for the secret redneck trailer trash we really are. Our attack was three-pronged:

* Daddy built a sprinkler system for our front lawn, using some pop-up sprinklers, a timer, and a bunch of PVC. The sprinkler system was something Daddy had been dying to do for ages, but in the end was something I, of all people, pushed him to do after I spent some time in the lawn-care section of the library. Now the grass seed in our front yard sprouts and grows lush! To the edge of the sprinkler radii, anyway.

* Daddy replaced the disgusting, half-rotting wood fence along the back edge of our backyard (which was not our responsibility, but I DIGRESS) with an all-new dogeared one. It is beautiful enough to garner a second glance out the kitchen window each morning as I pour my coffee.

* I began planning a vegetable garden. While at the library perusing lawn-care books, I couldn't help but notice all the gardening books nearby. Planting a garden is something I've been meaning to do since we bought the house, but only now are the kids old enough that I feel it might be attainable. Plus, Isaac is suddenly fascinated by the idea that he could plant seeds and watch them grow. My first act as O'Neal Vegetable Garden Steering Committee Chair was to suggest that Daddy build us a compost bin. After a half-hearted perusing of some illustrations in one of my new favorite books, The Frugal Gardener, Daddy and Isaac teamed up to build the following container of their own design from scratch. I swear, that Daddy could give MacGyver a run for his money.



It is now my daily joy to take my vegetable and fruit scraps and coffee grinds and tea bags and eggshells and dump them in my backyard compost bin, squirting lots of water on them, and watching random bugs fly all around as I do so. All this is so delightful to me that it makes me thank the sweet lord I have no female offspring.

Our thought is to let the compost bin rot its little heart out over the winter such that its contents might nourish our well-planned spring garden. But in the meantime, I wanted to do a little test-run in the garden department, also to satisfy Isaac's need to watch things sprout from seed. So we planted a container garden of fall crops on our new patio.



I let the boys each pick something they wanted to plant. Jake picked peas, which are now beginning to sprout nicely a week later. Without even seeing any seed packets, Isaac announced that he wanted to plant beets. BEETS. How did he even know about beets? Have *I* ever even had a beet? Well, now I shall have to, since they will apparently be the bumper crop of the season. They started sprouting like crazy only three days after planting.



Per Daddy's suggestion, we planted spinach and mustard greens. The mustard greens came in a close second in the sprouting race.



My choice for planting was a bunch of herbs -- rosemary, oregano, parsley, and catnip -- and they made quite an embarrassment of themselves in being the last to sprout. Everybody is up now, though, except for that lazy, no-good rosemary.

Getting into character

Apparently I have a whole family of method actors.

Pearly whites

Our family dentist is in Indianapolis. When I bring it up in conversation, people usually tell me I'm crazy until I ask them if they've ever been stuck with a bad dentist. Our dentist is full of both common sense and restraint. It's because we ever went elsewhere that Daddy had to get a crown installed while we were home this time. He went with gold; we are trying to encourage him to have it engraved with "Pimp Daddy" or at least "Thug Life".

Isaac got a turn in the chair, too -- his first-ever tooth cleaning. He was totally brave about it and never fussed once, even though his body language occasionally suggested the experience was beyond his comfort zone.





A clean bill of tooth health for him. The dentist warned that he had a bit of crowding that might spell trouble as his adult teeth come in. We'll see. His and Jake's teeth are both perfectly beautiful now, and look very much like mine did when I was a wee person. Here's hoping they inherit my cavity- and braces-free teeth.

If we don't touch a bug, our day is just not complete

Jake found a caterpillar on Meemaw's porch.



He was then passed around.



Anybody know what kind he is?

Future photoblogging brought to you by these mesmerizing eyes

While at Coxhall Gardens with Poppop, I dropped by beloved Canon digital elph for only about the billionth time. This time it could not be resurrected.

I waited a whole day to tell Daddy. As I suspected, there was much yelling and gnashing of teeth. And then he snuck out of Meemaw's house with Uncle Chrissy and bought me a new Sony one.

I spent the evening taking all manner of crazy pictures, testing settings and whatnot. This is one of my favorites, for obvious reasons.



And so the photographic documentation of the day-to-day minutiae of our lives will continue. Thank you, O husband of the pretty Irish eyes.

Day and night at Coxhall Gardens

When our scrapbooking Meemaw came to visit a few weeks ago, she brought with her a fancy memory book for the boys with pictures of some of the great times we all had playing around at Coxhall Gardens, a park in their town that shows off just how much their chi-chi neighbors pay in property taxes.

In this park, which is so large and luxurious that it boasts not one but two clock-tower carillons, we usually visit this little village of sorts that is just for kids. It has small buildings erected by local builders; a maze made out of willows; herb and flower gardens; tall hills into which concrete tunnels are built; a drinking fountain where the extra water runs down a rocky hill. Entertwined amongst it all is a "river" made of sand.

While we were in Indianapolis, Poppop took off Thursday and Friday to play with us. Thursday morning Isaac voiced a desire to visit Sand River Park. And we did.







Naturally, Meemaw felt cheated and wanted to get her Coxhall on, too. She brought up going the night before we left, and everyone agreed it was the perfect chance to stretch our legs before the journey. This time we skipped the sand river and went to a part of this ginormous and beautiful place we had never been before.







Thanks for the memories, City of Carmel.

How we spent a surprising amount of time at Mamaw and Dadaws

This time around, the boys were just fascinated with the setup of their room. A daybed for one + a trundle for the other = the Flying O'Neal Brothers.



Jump up, jump down, for hours. It never got old.

Oh, and we played outside in this beautiful, unseasonably cool weather; we threw apples for the dogs to chase; we played hide and seek, and cars, and dinosaur; we watched movies; and the boys got haircuts. Thanks Mamaw and Dadaw!

And nary a trans-fat in sight

You can't talk about the State Fair without talking about the amazing eats available. They certainly deserve their own post. We did our part to support local growers. Daddy, Mamaw, and Dadaw had this for breakfast:



Jacob, Daddy, and I had this for lunch:





You have to marvel at that Indiana ingenuity. From the beef counter above, where one could order a Hot Beef Sundae (shredded beef topped by mashed potatoes and a cherry tomato on top), to the midway, where you couldn't help but wonder "what else can we stick in that thar deep fryer?"



Our Pepsi balls, they are nearly world-famous. But I had never heard of deep-fried brownies before.



Curiosity overwhelmed me, and I had some for lunch. The guy behind the counter had the audacity to ask me if I wanted chocolate syrup and powdered sugar on top. Um, duh?



Oh, and how could I forget to mention our pre-lunch dessert of shaved ice?




One needs to keep the sugar up if one hopes to take in all these sights. Now please excuse me while I head to the potty.

When the corn is as high as an elephant's eye...

...you head to the Indiana State Fair, of course.



We went today, all day, with Mamaw and Dadaw. It was lots and lots of fun, and we did everything. We rode rides! (It's a good thing we're so tall)



There were the kiddie cars:



Even Jake was tall enough to ride the caterpillar coaster...




Though Isaac thought the baby coaster was "REALLY FUN!", his brother, who was game for it at first, declared it to be "REALLY SCARY!". Maybe next year.

We found a dinosaur ride, to the extreme delight of the Isaac:



And a truck-driving ride for both my boys, who proudly sported their free Pioneer Seed trucker caps:



As we were on our way out, Isaac insisted he and I take a spin on the zippy merry-go-round together.



And then, $30 of Dadaw Warbucks's money poorer, we said goodbye to the midway and hello to the crazy fair food.

Time with the great-grandparents

Jonas's baptism provided us with a special bonus, in that some of our extended family drove up from Missouri to visit for the weekend. We got to spend time with Poppop's sister, Aunt Cindy, her husband, Uncle Billy, and my cousin, Ross, as well as the ever-popular Great-Grandma and -Grandpa Ross.





Enjoy Grandpa's hat? Thank his stylist, Rap Master Jacob O'Neal.

The boys ADORE their Grandma Ross. I swear, that woman is like baby crack. No child can withstand her smooches. Here she is, reading to a captivated audience.



She brought along a recent copy of the Southeast Missourian, an article of which prominently featured her sister, Aunt Carolyn.



This is the same Aunt Carolyn who was diagnosed with terminal bone cancer almost a year ago. Earlier this year she underwent a physically taxing and risky stem cell transplant in St. Louis; now her cancer is IN REMISSION. She is doing so well that she's busy again with one of her greatest loves, her garden. Her environmentally friendly techniques with native plants are featured prominently in the article. As we read the article together, Meemaw told yet another story of Carolyn's legendary green thumb -- her husband, Larry, picked a few seeds from a beautiful flowering plant in the gardens around the Indianapolis Art Museum when they attended our wedding. Carolyn and Larry cultivated this flower, from seeds, and it now blooms in their own garden.

A rite of passage for JT

Last night our delightful, squishtacular cousin Jonas became an official member of the Catholic faith. Jonas's own Uncle Chris (Jean's brother) and I were thrilled to become his godparents.



Congratulations, little guy! I promise to do my godly duty and bug your parents about going to church.

(picture shamelessly stolen from Jean's blog)

Aunt Jean, Boy Magnet

Bless this woman.



She took me for a run this morning, and then came home and wrestled with my boys before we all took a nap. Some of us on unconventional sleeping surfaces.



In the far corner there, that's Uncle Mike and Jonas. They put each other to sleep.

Master of his own poop

Saturday afternoon, Jacob asked me to show him to the potty so he could pee. There is a ritual -- he needs me to place his stool and take care of his britches, but then he wants me to go away while he stands up and does his bidness. The man likes his privacy.

So I did, and then promptly lost track of time. Maybe 10 minutes later I realize he's still in the bathroom, only because he yells for me across the house.

"Mommy! Come see what I did!"

So I do, just in time to watch him sliding off of his padded potty seat. Which he put there himself. On which he was obviously just sitting.

"I made some poop for you, Mommy!"

And he did. He hasn't had an accident since. The Jake, he is potty trained, here at 2 years and 5 months. Yeehah!

The nighttime thing is a different story. He woke up dry a few nights in a row last week, so I told him he could stop wearing diapers at night. Every night since then he has slept horribly, and not just from wetting the bed. Could it be that he was stressing about peeing his pants in his sleep? I suggested he wear a diaper to sleep in last night and he didn't even fight me. He also slept well. So I'm not completely free of the costly diaper overlords just yet, but surely now it's only a matter of time.

The finished product

Featuring a sweaty Daddy enjoying the (fermented) fruits of his labors.



My picture doesn't do any justice to the gorgeous, richly multicolored slate. We can't wait for the next rainstorm to clean it off for us.