snOMG!

Sam was pretty darned excited about the trace of snow we got overnight. Actually, it snowed pretty heavily after he went to sleep, but by the time he woke up, most of it had melted. We discovered a  good patch on the deck, though, which meant the following:
- We scooped it up in the red bucket and played with it at the breakfast table. Some of it may have been consumed despite the pieces of debris in it and my constant warnings.
- We had to wear our snow hat (at the breakfast table). Because you wear your snow hat when it snows.
- We had to carry around the snowman eraser Sam got in his Advent Calendar (not seen here).
- We got to watch Dad scrape the snow off the car. Yay, Dad!

Sam also wanted to wear his snowman jacket, not his policeman jacket, or his fireman jacket. We weren't sure what that meant, so Bruce broke out the puffy coat I bought Sam (silly me) in the fall, which has not been worn once. Sam did not think that was a snowman jacket, so he ultimately settled for the policeman jacket. He begrudgingly agreed to go to daycare after being promised the potential for snow there.

I suddenly feel incredibly guilty we don't live in New Hampshire. Stupid warm winter.

Cuteness Alert: Valentine's Pageant

Sam's class had a Valentine's Day performance and celebration. There were funny hats, singing, dancing, cupcakes, fruit and Cheetos. Toddlers sure know how to party. Be sure and check out the video at the bottom. Sam seems to hold his own until they do the Spanish version.

Fashion plate

Here, Bruce tries to wrangle Sam into a sensible long-sleeved shirt, to wear over the outfit he picked out for himself. Pants: pajama bottoms, sized 18 months. Shirt: his new Belties short-sleeved t-shirt (sheep! Sam calls the cow on the front), sized 3T. Neither shirt nor pants are appropriate for a 50 degree day, especially considering Sam has stopped wearing a jacket. The funniest part I didn't get on film: as Sam was getting out of the car at daycare, he spotted his fisherman's hat on the floorboard of the car, and insisted on wearing that in to school, as well.

We're hoping the latitude we are giving him now means he won't feel the need to rebel as a teenager and pierce something.

Dining with Sam

Sam has all but stopped eating dinner. We assume he's eating a good lunch at school, but we actually do need to confirm that. He eats a solid breakfast. But dinner? That's another story. Ever since he stopped eating purees, he has been picky, but the older he gets the worse it has gotten. We've gone through a particularly frustrating period the past two weeks. He isn't even eating his favorite foods anymore. No pizza, no french fries.

"All done dinner!" "Me no like it!" "No, thank you." (at least he's polite)

What's most interesting is how Bruce and I are handling his table-side shutdown (hint: not well). We've read all the rules (don't force them to eat, don't bribe them to eat, don't keep bringing out foods you think they'll eat, and the obvious: don't try to shove a bite into their mouth) and flouted all the rules. Read, repeat. We alternate roles of being the calm parent and being the crazy, food-shoving-down-the-gullet parent. When I'm not the crazy gullet-shoving parent, I marvel at the kind of primal reaction we have to our child not eating. MUST FEED CHILD! CHILD WILL STARVE! YELL AT SPOUSE ABOUT HOW THEY'RE DOING IT WRONG!

You are "supposed" to put out a selection of foods you would like them to eat along with one thing you know they will eat and leave it at that. Sometimes he doesn't even eat the one safety food I put out. Tonight for dinner, I think I will just throw in the towel and feed him the last of the remaining foods I know he will always eat. I could really use a break.

On tonight's menu:

• Yogurt
• Berries
• Apple
• Goldfish crackers

Would you like to join us at Chez Warreid?

Oreo Cows

I read about a cool toddler-centric playground in Pittsboro, so we decided to check it out Sunday. It did not disappoint.







Since we were so close, we decided it was time to introduce Sam to the famous Belted Galloways of Fearrington Village. Much to Bruce's chagrin, the boy even scored a Belties t-shirt.


Cool windmill.


Hello, ladies.


Sam shares my enthusiasm for these cows. Not pictured: this particular cow excused itself seconds after this shot was taken. That's what cows do. Nature!


Hey, cowboy.


I like this shot because it makes me appear tall and imposing.

The Wheels on the Bus

We promised Sam a bus ride Saturday morning. But as we lounged around while Bruce checked out the bus schedule, we realized that we had 25 minutes to make it to the bus stop or there would be no bus ride before naptime. Considering the bus stop was about a 10 minute drive away, and we were all still sitting around in our pjs, it was a tall order. We rushedrushedrushed and made it out the door in record time!

And I'll tell you, it was pretty deflating to see that bus pull away from the bus stop as we drove up behind it.

But all was not lost. Thanks to Bruce and his fancy thinking (and my fast driving), we zipped past the bus and were able to beat it to its next stop. Whew!


Here we are, casually acting like we had been waiting at the bus stop for minutes.


The bus ascends the great hill on Franklin St.


Yes, Mr. Busdriver, that was my station wagon that drag-raced you up the hill.


Exciting!


Look, Dad, Julian's is having a sale. Now's the time to buy that bowtie you've been eyeing.


Is this my stop?


After a toddler and hippy-filled breakfast at Weaver St., we waited at the bus stop for our return trip.

And it was free! I'm thinking next time we'll just load him up and let him ride the entire circuit. But it might be a daddy-son excursion. I forgot about my tendency to get bus-sick.

All Aboard!

We braved the elements last Saturday to ride the Amtrak train from Durham to Cary. Round trip. A friend at work gave me this idea. Her other idea? Ride the Chapel Hill bus--totally free. Sometimes having a little boy is so easy. We're probably going to ride the bus this weekend, so stay tuned.


At the Durham train station.


Sam was slightly intimidated by the whole experience at first.


He's looking for cows. I kept telling him not to expect them but he somehow associated this train trip with going to the farm.


The swanky new Cary train station.


Bye-bye, train!


While we were in Cary, we found this charming pharmacy with a lunch counter. Sam thought it was so cool he forgot he's a picky eater and ate a half of a grilled cheese sandwich.


What do you do when the intimidating man behind the counter gives your son a huge serving of ice cream with sprinkles? You say "thank you."


Pretty darn excited.


Heading back to the Bull City.


A view of the state seal etched in the glass behind Sam. I thought these trains were pretty swanky.