Saturday mornings are for watching Elmo videos.

We don't have cable at the Leite household, but we don't let that hold us back from brain-rotting fun. I do my best to keep us all from turning into mouse potatoes, but meh, it's the weekend! Let the mindless surfing begin.

Sesame Street gets the most action. I really don't like Yo Gabba Gabba, but I admit the site gets some hits from our IP address. This game is responsible for Finn's impressive mouse-clicking skills. We've recently discovered a really great ABC game, and honestly, Finn's recognition of letters has exploded. So, you know, it's not all stupor inducing.

We just have to watch out for that Adam Sandler. He's a prick, him and his catchy songs.

I was chatting with a friend about sleep. Sleep is a major preoccupation around here. Anyway, she was worried about her baby waking up her two-year-old son at night and asked about Finn and Rosemary. While I was worried about Finn being woken up by her cries at night initially, he never has been. Either Finn hears her and knows it's just Rose and goes back to sleep, or he is really that deep a sleeper. I don't think much wakes him up. Actually, I know not much wakes him up.

I explained Finn's tendency is to slide his schedule to later in the day, which seems great when he's sleeping in till 8:30 a.m., but is crappy when he won't go to bed till 9 p.m.

Mommy likes adult time, or as it is known around here recently, Battlestar Galectica time.

Anyway, I never let him sleep past 7:30 a.m., and sometimes it's really, really hard to wake him. It's so difficult Rosemary squealing in his bed and grabbing his face won't wake him up. This, I know, he gets from me. This is all what I told my friend.Then I started thinking about it. Maybe Finn does get that from me. I decided to see how much Finn's sleep really does resemble mine. The researcher in me needed to know just how much.

At 3:30 p.m., it was time for Finn's nap to end, and I decided to put my theory to the test. I opened his door. I turned on his light. I opened the curtains and the window. I pulled off his blanket. I called his name.

Nothing. He did not move a muscle. Finn kept sleeping.

Interesting.

Next, I started vacuuming in the hallway outside his room. Loudly. Bang, brrrrrrm, bang.

No results. I proceeded to vacuum inside his room. At this point, Finn is still asleep.

Still. Asleep. I am VACUUMING in his room, and still he sleeps.

I have no choice but to conclude Finn has inherited my superpowers. He has the power of sleep. understand his sleeping patterns completely. The issue is neither a schedule slippage nor a preference for late mornings. He just sleeps really, really deeply.

Once in my early 20s, when I was still living with my parents, I came downstairs for breakfast. My brother and father sat at the table, and honestly, their mouths were hanging open staring at me in disbelief. I am not sure a second head would have garnered such looks.

"What?"

"You've been in bed sleeping this whole time?" my father asked.

I looked at the clock. "Whatever. It's only 11:30." (Man, those days are so OVER, I could weep.)

My brother shook his head at me.

"Look outside the window, Jennifer."

I looked.

Our neighbour's house had been replaced by a pile of rubble and a wreaking ball.

I had slept through our neighbour's house being demolished. It was then I was told about the crashing and the banging and the house falling down and our house shaking, the windows rattling, and blah, blah, blah. Didn't bother me one bit.

I will have to explain to Finn, in the future, that with this great power comes great responsibility. This is his gift, his curse, but until then, I will no longer be forcing everyone to be quiet during his nap.

The blog has been quiet of late. Why? Well, that would be because this little charmer has been getting up at 5. That's right. Up at 5 a.m. At this awful, terrible, no-good hour, Rosemary has been up, ready-to-take-to-on-the-world up, "Hey! Why isn't Finn up yet?" up.

Ugh.

I can get up happily at 6 a.m. Six-thirty is even better, and 7 o'clock is great. But 5 in the freaking morning? I have absolutely nothing to say at 5 a.m.

NOTHING.
Today, Rosemary slept till 7 a.m. My brain is functional again. I have enough brain power to wish this picture had sound.

Oh, I suppose that's called a video.

Well, anyway, she really likes this dolly, and my ears suffer the squealing proof.

Dylan's not featured here much, but here he is. Without him, none of this wonderfulness would be possible.

I believe if we stare into his eyes in this picture, block out everything around us, and concentrate very hard, we'll actually be able to hear his thoughts.

I am tuning into them right now:"Ahhh, doughnuts. What can't they do?"


I think I am getting Finn's thoughts here too:
"I think it's ironic that for once Dad's butt prevented the release of toxic gas."

"I am the Lizard Queen!"

All quotes provided by The Simpsons!

There is a new kid in town.
And his name is Ernie! I can't claim he has ousted Elmo, but Finn is now carting around two Sesame Street pals.
Ernie entered our life on the weekend. We were at the local toy store checking out the train tables, which Santa may or not may not be delivering to our house. I'll never tell!

Anyway, I brought over Ernie and Bert dolls for Finn to see. When we were ready to leave, Dylan asked Finn if he wanted to put Ernie away.

Finn replied, "Home." Dylan was all, "Yep, Finn, we are going home."

Next thing we knew, Finn was running as fast he could out the toy-store door with Ernie in tow. Running really, really fast. Faster than I have ever possibly seen him.

Oh.

He wanted Ernie to come home. It made me laugh. Really, really laugh, not harder than I ever, ever have, but it was a good one. I've never seen Finn do anything like that before, and although that is probably not the best basis for a purchase, we did the questionable parenting thing and bought Finn the Ernie.

I'd like to say this was a one-off and that he hasn't learned some horrible lesson about how to get what he wants, but I would probably be wrong.

Well, maybe now we can stop watching this clip; warning, though, it is an earworm.

We are sitting! Rosemary suddenly can sit unassisted. She's a bit wobbly, and her head has become good -- well, I wouldn't say they're good friends, but definitely, the floor and her head are acquaintances now. Let's just say they've met on more than one occasion.

This sitting business is just one more step advancing her evil plot to overthrow the earth.

"What do you want to do today, Rosemary?"
"Same thing we do every day, Finn. Try to take over the world."

Today is a junk day. A very bad, no-good day. Why?

This morning, Dylan got up with Finn while I lounged in bed with Rosemary. I heard Dylan coming up the stairs and expected a nice, warm, very strong cup of coffee. He's nice like that.

"Um, Jenn, I have bad news. The coffeemaker is broken."

The next sound heard was my head exploding.

"GASP. NO! NO! NO! What happened? Wait, a minute. Yesterday, the coffeemaker made a very strange sound, and then it smelt like burning plastic. I guess that was a bad thing."
"Yes, Jenn, that would have been a pretty good indicator of a bad thing."

Shit.

Junk day. Now we have to try and return our stupid coffeemaker to Costco. It's only two-years old. WTF? Don't people have coffeemakers for years?

I am broken without coffee.

Post-immunization, we are doing fine. The City of Ottawa has managed the mass immunization, as far as I could tell, well. Things went smoothly, and the whole process took two hours: one in the morning while Dylan waited for wristbands to secure a time slot, and one in the afternoon for our slotted vaccinations. Yah! Take that swine flu!

These are pictures of Finn and Rosemary at approximately the same age and in the same costume. I did change it for Rosemary a bit. She didn't really want to be a red devil.

Halloween night was a success. This was fun. At one point, when I was handing out candy, I peeked out onto the street and saw little groups of happy children running around the neighbourhood in the dark. They had taken over the street, and it was brilliant.
Finn was a great Elmo, and Rosemary, well, she loved being a ladybug.
It didn't take Finn long to figure out the system. Knock on the door, open the big Elmo bag, and get candy. "More! More!"
Along for the ride and loving it. She was a pretty good co-trick-or-treater. People assumed Finn was collecting for both him and his sister. Score!

Elmo did manage to get dressed as Finn. Finn didn't like it, but I got a picture in quickly.
Oooh, checking out the candy haul! Nice work, Finn.

What on earth are we going to do with all this candy?

These orange guys have a date with a knife very, very soon. Bwaaahahahaha!



I'll post some more pictures of Rosemary and Finn's big Halloween night tomorrow! Till then Happy Halloween!

Finn is now two-and-a-half. He's a bright, delightful little boy. Every day is an adventure we're on together.
He tends to be a bit shy, and I'm trying to give him the wee-est, smallest, littlest nudge to get out there. I don't want to push him too hard, but I also want to socialize him despite his natural inclination to hang out in "Finn's home" all day.
I love the child he is becoming. I miss the baby he was, but he is so much fun lately. His sense of humour rocks. He's inventive. He's a caring big brother.


Anyway, I tried an excellent playgroup at a nearby school. It's every day from 9 to 1. It's run by a teacher who provides -- PROVIDES -- a snack, and it's filled with nice kids. Sounds great, doesn't it? Well, it's also really busy and really loud and a little bit crazy. Finn. hated. it. Every time I brought up playgroup, all I heard was, "No! No! Bye-bye! Bye-bye!" So "bye-bye" playgroup went. Maybe we'll try again next year because it really is a great program, and I happen to know a certain, pink someone who REALLY did enjoy it.

Next up, I enrolled Finn in a toddler program at the local library. I thought this might work out since Finn likes the library, and that seemed as good a starting point as any. The first time went well. The librarian running the program has a quiet, peaceful nature and conducts the 30-minute program accordingly. Basically, she reads a few books to them, does a couple of activities, and calls it day. It's quiet, relaxed, and definitely fitting with Finn's style. This seemed to be, in parenting parlance, a good fit.

This week, when we headed off to the library, Finn seemed happy. He knew we were going to toddler time, and dare I say, he was almost excited. When we got to the library, we sat down on the floor in the circle with all the other children. The librarian greeted everyone and sang a little, quiet song. So far, so good.

Then it happened. She pulled out the first book, and it was Finn's favorite. Not only was she about to read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, but it was a new, very special pop-up version of the book. Immediately, Finn stopped squirming in my lap. Rosemary's antics no longer concerned him. The little girl next to us with the Backyardian shoes was of no matter. He became very still, all attention focused on Librarian Jenny. I have to say Finn's mind was blown. It's official. Toddler time is great. He loves that book lady.

And anyone reading this who wants to make Finn the happiest kid ever can keep this book in mind for Christmas: http://www.amazon.ca/Very-Hungry-Caterpillar-Pop-up-Book/dp/0399250395

That is all.

How can anyone be so happy first thing in the morning?

Good morning, Mommy! Don't you just love life?
I know I sure do. Where's that Finn??

Oh! Good, it's Finn. Here we go.

Weeeeeeee!
Giggles. Lots and lots of giggles.
Hey! Where did he go?