Why my kid loves to get his hair cut...

Technically, Banner has had his hair cut THREE times since his first trim back in September, and has never shed a tear.  I give all the credit to Trevor and his barber, Adam.  They've got a system down where Banner accompanies his dad to the barbershop every six weeks so (Trevor needs frequent grooming.  We won't discuss that I haven't had my hair cut since 2012), watches him get a trim and then the little man VOLUNTEERS to go next.  Climbs right up into the chair as if to say, "My turn" and everything.  Even though there isn't much going on hair wise on top of Banner's head, Adam and Trevor never fail to seize the opportunity to clean the little dude up a bit.  Because when a 23 month old more or less asks to get his hair cut, you GET his hair cut.

An added bonus?  Banner gets to help "sweep" daddy's trimmings and gets a post haircut donut hole as a reward.  If the little guy could describe his favorite things, I'm pretty sure brooms and donut holes would be right up there with Elmo, cars, Finding Nemo and the song If You Are Happy And You Know It on endless repeat.

  

(he may have dressed himself this particular morning)

But you can't argue with success!

Such a BIG boy!

Plus, father-son hair cut day usually means I get to go back to bed for an extra hour.  And if I'm REALLY lucky, Trevor and Banner bring me White Rock coffee on his way home.  It is pretty much the best day ever for all three of us.  

In other news...

Banner is now the proud owner of an Elmo potty seat.  I have a feeling we are still a ways off from actively potty training, however.  Mainly because he says "poo-poo potty" as he is pooping his pants.  But hey, knowing is half the battle.  Right, G.I. Joe?  In fact, the best we gotten in the training department was when he tooted while sitting up there.  And I'll totally take it because the little man isn't even two yet. 

Also, he LOVES wiping himself.  And by "wiping" I mean "rubbing the middle of his back with the tissue"  The downside to this is that he will happily "wipe" all the T.P. away and throw it in bowl.  The upside?  At least there is something to wave "buh bye" to when he flushes.

That whole half marathon thing...

Trevor and I were supposed to run the half marathon today, but - thanks to Winter Storm Cleon - we are spending our third day in a row indoors instead.  The Dallas Marathon peeps made the difficult decision to cancel on Friday afternoon based on the deteriorating forecast and icing.

My thoughts on the whole thing (not that anyone asked, but…well, you know):

• First and foremost, I honestly think they made the right decision to cancel.  Conditions simply are not safe.  I wish they could have rescheduled, but I'm sure that would have been a logistical nightmare.  At least they are mailing us our shirts.


• That said, it sort of sucks - after all that training - to not be able to run.  And I say that knowing full well when it comes to races like these, it is the journey not the destination…and, you know, all that crap.


• I especially feel bad for Trevor.  This would have been my second half marathon, but Trevor's first.  Today should have been the day that he finally crossed that particular bucket list item off.


• In a twisted way, I feel like I should have known better than to register in the first place.  It would have been my third time to run this particular race (2nd time running the half in addition to the 5-person marathon relay a bunch of us ran in 2010), and the weather has gotten progressively worse every time I've committed to it.  Third time is a charm, right?  Except, in this case, not.


• On the other hand, I'm glad to not run because the roads are still awful.  We were sliding around last night on a Target run for Trevor's uncle (who hasn't had power since Friday), and again this morning when we ventured out to the mall for some food and shopping.  It wouldn't take much to twist an ankle, blow a tendon or fall and break something.  It is hard enough to run 13.1 miles without worrying about black ice, frozen bridges and streets that resemble skating rinks. 


• We got to sleep in this morning, and watch 20 minutes of Finding Nemo with our favorite little mess all snuggled together in bed.  There is nothing better in this world.  Especially when the temps outside were hovering around 20 degrees.  Even without the ice, running in temps that low would have been absolutely miserable.


• I've been nursing a foot injury (something is all screwy with the arch), and I haven't run since last Monday when Trev and I did a final 8 miles at the lake before tapering.  I'm hoping the extra days of rest have allowed it to heal.


• Training with my husband has been pretty awesome.  I've been his pace pony.  We've done the bulk of our running at White Rock, and have been running both the 9 and 10.5 mile loops at least once a week during Banner's nap time on the weekend (thanks to everyone who has volunteered to sit on our couch and watch movies while the baby slept and we ran).  


• Tomorrow, when we were supposed to be enjoying massages, we are going to run around the lake again together.  Because the next half in the area isn't until February or March, but there is a 15K on the 21st called the…wait for it, wait for it…Jog'r Egg Nog'r.  Yeah, already registered.  I'm excited to have a reason to continue running and a finish line on the horizon to cross.  Keep your fingers crossed for good weather.

Update:  Dallas ISD is closed again Monday, and tomorrow's high is only 36.  Tonight we are supposed to have freezing fog. Suddenly it looks like an indoor run on the treadmill is in our future instead of a trek around the lake.  :(

Why I'm not using the ice days to decorate for Christmas...

So, it is day two of this whole ice storm thing, and I just realized I haven't left the house since Thursday night. Trevor and Banner went and got hair cuts at 8:30 this morning, because Banner's school was supposed to have a Parents Day Out today from (9 AM to 1 PM). We were going to use the opportunity to run downtown and pick up our race packets for the half tomorrow, but the marathon was canceled yesterday. As was Banner's appointment with Santa for pictures at 1:40 AND Parents Day Out. Which means my son now has a fabulous haircut, but no where to go.  And we can't go outside anymore because Banner keeps trying to lick the metal gas meter.

All this may or may not explain or have anything to do with this:

He is napping with my pink piggy neck pillow around his waist
 and his beanie on his head surrounded by a sea of blankets and toys.
Because, obviously.

We have a hard time keeping that beanie on his head when he is outside in frigid temps. But he insists on wearing it to bed. Someone please explain this to me.

Siiiiiigh, toddlers.

In other news, apparently everyone else is using their ice days to decorate for Christmas. Except we already did that the weekend before Thanksgiving. I know, I know…I probably deserve this for "not respecting the turkey" and letting Thanksgiving have its day. But Thanksgiving was wicked late this year, and - quite frankly - if it wasn't for Trevor, I probably wouldn't have bothered. Mainly because Christmas always feels like a bunch of extra clutter to me, and it seems silly to get all the decorations out of the attic for only 2-3 weeks. But Trevor is LOVES to decorate for Christmas, and would happily vomit holiday-themed nick nacks all over every spare square inch of surface space if left to his own devices. So, we compromised: he got to decorate as long as we did it early enough to warrant the effort, and I got veto power on all the superfluous crap.

Go ahead. Call me Scrooge.

And for all you peeps who think it is sacreligious to decorate before Black Friday, you *almost* got to me and made me feel guilty. Until I remembered that I don't like to decorate to begin with, and I was planning on EATING said turkey on Thanksgiving, not respecting it (except for maybe how yummy it tastes).

But to Thanksgiving's credit, it (along with the Fourth of July) is one of my favorite holidays. I love that an entire day dedicated to being thankful, eating and spending time with family. If that involves throwing up some twinkly lights and garland while contemplating how many servings of mashed potatoes I can eat after running the Turkey Trot, so be it.

Banner, for one, is thrilled with the tree, ornaments and Little People Nativity (thanks, Aunt Lynn!). His favorite tree-related activity is taking the ornaments off the tree (especially his special "Elmo" ornament I bought him this year) and sticking the lights up his nose. And don't even get me started on how much he loves the nativity set. Baby Jesus keeps ending up on top of the manger, and "Frankensheep" attacks the three wise men four or fives times a day. It is completely awesome. As is the fact that Banner liberated drunk Santa from the tree this afternoon and had him standing over Baby Jesus as if toasting the infant during story time at the manger:

Bad Santa.
(The cow is a little too excited about Santa's bottle.)

Of course, my mother-in-law thinks I should hide drunk Santa so the above predicament doesn't happen again, but where is the fun in that? Because, quite frankly, drunk Santa is a fabulous addition to an iced over world where your 23 month old has somehow figured out how to GET OUT OF A BACKWARDS SLEEP SACK.

Granted it has only happened once this week, but that was one time too many. Trevor and I are back to sleeping in fear of the 3 AM pee soaked nursery.

At least we still have some left over duct tape...

So they weren't kidding about the ice...

This is mainly a post about my trees, because OMG, MY TREES!  They totally didn't get the memo about an ice storm this week, and it probably didn't help that it was 80 degrees on Wednesday.

Anyway, first pictures of the ice that is covering everything.  Mainly because it is pretty, but also because I've lived in DC, northern Maryland and Syracuse, New York and Dallas is the only place where I have had to deal with periodic ice storms.  North Texas gets a bad rap when it comes to dealing with a "winter storm", but I'd take buckets of snow over ice any day.  My driveway, patio and sidewalk are skating rings at the moment.  And you can't build a snowman or even a snow angel in ice.

Granted, all you have to do down here in Dallas is wait it out.  Nature generally decides that winter is a bad idea in this part of the country after a day or two, and is even considerate enough to clean up after herself if you wait a few hours.  I still have my snow shovel from my years up east, but haven't broke it out once since moving here.  Which is kind of fabulous.

(Plus, I secretly love that everything shuts down giving me wonderful down time with my family at home.  Since we only get a snow day maaaaybe once every three years, it isn't like you get sick of them.)

But I digress.  Back to the ice.  Pretty, right?:

Did you know ice is heavy?  Because it is.  And that white stuff on the ground are ice pellets.  It was relatively crunchy this morning but is now hard as a rock.  I know this because I actually went outside with the broom to sweep the pellets off the driveway, but I was too late.  Trevor and I are now iceskating to the trash can with every poopy diaper (of which there have been THREE before noon).

And now for the aftermath (i.e. #firstworldtreeproblems):

My poor pistache.  

Just to give you a better idea, this is what this tree used to look like (in, ahem, much warmer weather):

The other pistachio actually lost her leaves eons ago (okay, two-three weeks; see leafy pic below), and is doing fine:

I don't know why one pistache got the winter memo and not the other.  It is the ice on the leaves that is presenting the biggest problem.  Everything is encased in an ice cube.  The more leaves, the more ice and...well, more weight.

The chinquapin oak is, so far, doing better than the first pistache, but is still pretty saggy:

And, finally, this was my view out the study windows earlier this morning.  The mulberry branch doesn't normally hang that low (nor does the cedar, for that matter), but I was hopeful:

Until, well...this happened around 10 AM:

In case you are curious, this is what the patio area usually looks like on non winter ice days:

I guess, in hindsight, I should be grateful I had gently moved the low hanging mulberry branch away from the edge of the roof and gutters with a broom about thirty minutes before it fell.  Of course, maybe my moving it caused it's demise?  I dunno.  Siiiiiigh.

I've also done what I can for the pistache.  At my neighbor's advice (she used to be the naturalist for Dallas County), I tried to gently remove some of the frozen leaves in an effort to alleviate some of the weight of the ice.  Because high winds are forecast for the afternoon, and ice and wind aren't a good combo.  I also sawed off a large broken limb that was pulling part of the tree to the side.  If the trunk doesn't snap, it might have a chance.  It's a young tree.  They bounce, right?

Here's to hoping!  We planted the two maples, two pistaches, two crape myrtles and chinquapin when we moved in 4.5 years ago.  They are sort of like our tree babies.  

In the meantime, I'm going to focus on having a relaxing snow day inside with my boys and pups.  We are lucky enough to still have power, have Harry Potter on the TV and dinner going in the crock pot.  Once Banner goes down for his nap, I just might take one, too.

Just like the cold front: I knew it was coming, but it still shocked me when it arrived...

Yesterday, I received an email from Mom365 informing me that my favorite little mess is now 100 weeks old.  Coincidentally, it was the same day he turned 23 months.

It sort of blows my mind that 100 weeks have passed.  It doesn't seem like that long ago I was measuring Banner's life in days and weeks.  Yet soon I'm going to the mother of a 2 year old. 

Seriously?  Multiple trips around the sun?  Already?  How is that possible?

This time last year, Banner was bald, crawling baby.  Now he is a running, jumping, always on the go toddler who told me yesterday that, "Daddy funny.  Mama no funny" right before demanding that I change the "saun, peas" (song, please).  Because apparently the Mi Mi song (which he thinks is about Auntie Mimi, by the way) can only be followed up by Journey, not Imagine Dragons.  Duh.

(Silly mommy.)

My mind is sort of blown, y'all.  I wish there was a way to bottle time, so I could savor Banner at this age for just a little bit longer.  Because I know I'm going to blink, and he is going to be 3.  Heck, I just bought him 3T-4T overnights on Tuesday.  Not to mention all the conversations Trevor and I have had lately about transitioning him to a Big Boy Bed in the next few months. 

I just can't take it.  It's too soon, folks.  Too soon.

Time to pull an ostrich and bury my head in the sand.  Because maybe if I pretend hard enough, he will stay my baby for a little while longer.

Can we discuss this...

More than 50 degrees separates the CURRENT temp with Saturday's HIGH.

 

And we won't even discuss Monday's potential low.  Or my iPhone's failure to recognize that something is amiss if the high is supposed to be 79 and it is currently 81.  Or how strange it is to receive winter weather warnings when it is positively balmy outside.

 

I can't even.

Ug.