Not much going on around here the past couple weeks. Yesterday was the official start of the third trimester for me, and between being evermore pregnant, taking care of Henry, and heading to work 5 days a week, I haven't had much energy for extracurricular activities. Today was a fun day, though. It's been sunny for the last few days, but several degrees below warm. But finally, we got to the point where shorts were an option. We put Henry in the stroller and walked over to Bank Street to get milkshakes and enjoy a beautiful day. It's a very nice walk to take. And we decided to add a degree of serious excitement to the day by letting Henry go the preschool equivalent of going commando, i.e. No Diaper! The big toilet training project hasn't amounted to much yet, so I decided we need to start forcing the issue a bit more. The results were mixed, at best. No accidents while we were out and about, but three "accidents" once we got home (including one when he was standing literally 6 inches from his potty. Very frustrating). I'm not confident we'll get him out of diapers for good before Little Deuce arrives on the scene. As I said, progress has been spotty, but things are getting a bit better, so I haven't completely given up hope that it could happen soon. Then again, most of the other 3 year-old boys we know are still in diapers, and I've heard plenty of horror stories about the struggle to get them out of the paper underpants for good. Sigh.
In other Henry news, we're rapidly closing in on the big 3rd birthday extravaganza. We're having a party on next weekend, featuring a combination that could prove fatal to what little home decor we have: 10 preschoolers, and individual cake decorating. See, we bought this cool train cake pan in New York, and I think the kids will enjoy throwing sprinkles and the like on their own train car. Maybe it will be a nice day and we can do it outside. Maybe I'll just lay plastic sheeting over the entire house. Whatever. You only turn 3 once. Might as well make it memorable.
H. continues full throttle with his dinosaur obsession. Lately he's taken to acting like a T.Rex, which involves stomping around, his hands formed into "claws", making roaring sounds and play-biting us on the legs. I've put the dinosaur angle to good use in my parenting techniques by using the line that "dinosaurs love to (X)," whenever I'm trying to get Henry to do something he doesn't want to do. I've also improved his general hygiene by suggesting that if he doesn't let me wash off whatever crust of food and gunk has formed on his face or hands, a predator dinosaur will smell it and come after him. Not the kind of line you find in parenting manuals, but it works! And really, it doesn't scare him, since he thinks of himself as a predator dinosaur.
Finally, he's running an experiment to see if he can get all the nutrients and energy he needs from one food: plain spaghetti. He asks for it every night. I dress it up with egg and cheese, but all other sauce is out of the question.
And that's the news, such as it is, from around here. I was attempting to make mango chutney from scratch as I wrote this, and it was a total failure. I have a potful of scorched sugar goo. Delightful. Oh well--hopefully tonight's tamarind and yogurt-marinated chicken will do fine without it.
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