O Canada!

Yes, siree, these were some fab Olympics.  Thank goodness for local Canuck friends, and for the Facebook gang who watched the big game with me.  I have been so far from home for so long.  I miss you, Canada.

Huge kudos to Chad, who promised not to cheer for the U.S. during the gold medal game, and didn't break his promise, which meant that I didn't have to break any potted plants on his head. Our marriage is still on solid ground after all of the medals have been awarded (14 gold for Canada!!!! not that I'm rubbing it in...) and the Olympic flame has been snuffed. 

P.S.  Also happy to report that neither Clara nor Trevor has expressed interest in becoming a Winter Olympian.  

Snappy

For Christmas, I scoured the internet and found the perfect little thing for Trevor.  This gem of a toy is called "Snap Circuits", and it allows our engineer-in-training to make things light up and buzz and spin and beep, just by snapping the pieces together.  If you can put on a western shirt, you can build circuits.  Today alone, Trevi tested the conductivity of saltwater vs. freshwater, he lifted off a flying disc, and he made doorbells and sirens operated by both light and sound. Extreme coolness.  This one goes on my top five list of toys for curious builders (and their curious builder parents).

Skippy

I'm almost positive I've mentioned Trevi's habit of running from room to room in the house.  If, for instance, he's playing in the living room and needs something from his bedroom, he runs full speed there and back to fetch said item. Chad and I have laughed and laughed about this for years, imagining how ridiculous an adult would look if they did the same thing.  "It's cold in here.  I think I'll go get my sweatshirt...."  

Just take a moment to envision it. I know, right?  Hilarious.

Well, running around the house has suddenly changed to skipping. I guess they've been practicing skipping at school, and Trev is darn proud of his new skill.  And so he should be.  He's an awesome skipper.  Luckily, this new habit still works well for the imagine-an-adult-doing-that-and-laugh-your-head-off scenario.   

Air hug

For all the seventy-six thousand daily sibling conflicts that arise in our house, there is undeniable love and sweetness between these two. Clara has been a very sick girl all weekend –bad timing, since she had to abandon a sleepover in the mountains when a stomach bug crashed the party– and Dr. Trevor is on the case. He wanted to give Clara a kiss, but I told him I didn't want him to catch whatever she has.  He asked if a hug would be okay. Clara suggested an "air hug". I flew to my camera. 

Something new to fight about

We now have two chess greenhorns in the house. As the big sister, you can't very well sit by and watch your little brother develop a skill that you, yourself, don't have, now can you?  

This new pastime hasn't made life any more peaceful around here, but at least the standard screeches, "Get out of my room!!!!" and "Don't touch my stuff!!!!!!" have been replaced by things like, "Bishops can't go that way!!!!" and "You can only capture diagonally!!!"

Not quite Bobby Fischer

Chad has been teaching Trevor how to play chess, which means that now, when I walk in the door from work and Trevi calls out, "Mummy!  Come play with me!" I actually have to use my brain, instead of mindlessly walking Lego figures around in circles or crashing monster trucks into the wall.  My chess brain is more than a bit rusty, by the way, so I guess I should consider myself lucky that I get to battle against a Kindergartner whose tit-for-tat strategy makes for a pretty fast game.  I had to laugh today, though, when Clara started reading me long (and, in my opinion, ridiculous) Math word problems from the couch as Trevi and I tried to play.  I may be able to walk and chew gum at the same time, but simultaneous chess and homework is beyond my capability.

Those Finches are Vultures

It is really quite shocking how quickly those teeny, chirpy little finches can knock back an entire sleeve of thistle seed (say that ten times fast).  Lucky for them, my two favorite men are in the refill business.  

Waiting

I tried to get Trevor to come and play with me, build with me, read with me, dance around to the absolutely phenomenal Here Comes Science with me.  But, no, he had set up a "fablee-us new exercise course!" in the hallway, and was determined to wait out Clara's marathon homework session so that they could exercise together.

I'm not quite sure why she let him stare at her like that for a creepy amount of time, but she did.  And our kitchen is tidy and laundry folded as a result.

Spin the Valentine

I used to be a homemade-valentine parent (even last year!).  But now I'm a deadbeat who jumped at the chance to throw down $2.79 rather than spend a week at the kitchen table, covered in glitter. Oh, sure, we'll make some nice, doilyish cards for the people who really get the love, but the kids' classmates will have to make do with cutesy sayings from Phineas, Ferb, and various kittens and puppies.  It was Clara's idea – she actually said she would be a bit embarrassed to give out homemades to the boys in her class – and I can see her point.  The things will be in the garbage (or, hopefully, the recycling bin) within a week anyway, right?  And I'm sure we can find a worthwhile way to spend all of that glitter-free time. 

Trevor managed to put a new spin (so to speak) on the task of addressing valentines.  He built a little spinner thingy out of Tinkertoys, and let it decide whose name to write next.  Clara supervised.