A photo recap of recent events

When I downloaded photos to the computer off the camera, I was shocked to realize exactly how long it had been, and how many photos there were to contend with. There were a few that I had to share because they are just that great.

OJO's interpretation of Marley and Marley.

First up is a Christmas photo. While decorating the Christmas tree, OJO claimed all of the beads as his. He spent more than 45 minutes trotting around the house bedecked in red beads. The minions broke into a parody of Marley and Marley, from The Muppet Christmas Carol. This definitely will one of those Christmas memories that will always stick with me.

Here's the original song.

There is a special bond between twins. Regardless of age, I am convinced that twins find special solace in each other. This year has been full of change for the minions since they are in separate classes at school. All day Kindergarten means socializing, practicing letters, counting and coloring. In the evening there are the fights and disagreements about which books will be read and who will snuggle them. But once it comes time to go to bed, they want to be near each other.

This bond is so strong that when E-minion gets sick in the night, she doesn't come to us for help or comfort she goes to I-minion. I-minion, on the other hand, goes to E-minion when he gets scared.

Perhaps when the idea of school is routine, and maybe when they aren't so exhausted at the end of the day, I-minion will decide it is OK to sleep in his bunk bed with OJO. Honestly I don't know if I'll ever get over watching my kids sleep, it somehow reinforces my belief that there is some good in the world.

When they were tiny, they slept just like this, too.

See?

And finally, someone turned 2 at the beginning of February. OJO had a smashing time with his bug cake and opening presents.

There isn't a present that OJO won't unwrap. Seriously.

To sum up the post. Spring is coming! OJO sees it and he's excited.

The floor baby isn't a floor baby anymore

When the baby was about seven months old, I took him to North Country Fiber Fair in Watertown, SD. He hung out while his mama took a class and even modeled the product for Kathleen Taylor's Blog, Dakota Dreams.. I spent the weekend among fiber people. Baby O spent the time watching the spinning wheels go, crawling off his patchwork quilt and chasing a tennis ball. Everyone knew who the floor baby was and if he got too far from my spinning wheel, they'd bring him back. He's much to busy to go to the fiber retreat with me. However, his interest in spinning has not dwindled.



Baby O, can hardly be called that anymore. In fact, he's starting to identify himself as OJO in addition to his regular name. He is still fascinated with with fiber and his mother's spinning wheel. If no one is watching, he likes to step on the treadle and make it go himself -- then giggle wildly.









Thankfully, Edward (my Louet S10) is such a sturdy wheel, that I don't worry about OJO damaging it.

This is what we spun together. This was the single. I ended up with 582 yards of 2-ply at about 36
WPIs.

 

Summer Recap

In short this summer has been busy, hot and fun.
Most summers fit this description. However, this one has been particularly busy since the arrival of the Fab 5 in early May. Every morning and night there are chores to do. Plus the additional of moving them from one section of pasture to the other and then of course the worry – it’s a requirement of farming, I think. Worry of things that are outside your realm of control.



I couldn’t control the fact that the month of July saw 15 days above 90 degrees or days with heat warnings/advisories. In mid-July I made the executive decision to move the flock from their main pasture to the close paddock and barn near the house, and electricity. This provided better shade and a place to escape inside where I had equipped the barn with a fan. Every few days I revise their territory they can graze – and it’s reduced the amount of mowing I have to do. I-minion usually leads the sheep since they will follow him anywhere. He calls it his sheep conga line.

The sheep seemed much, much happier with the place to hang out in the relative cool, even if the humidity remained at an astronomical level – at least for Iowa.

The heat and humidity have broken. When I’ve gone out to do chores in the morning for the last few days, the temperature has been barely 50 degrees. It is obvious that Weston, Edward, Churchill, Collins and Knightley camped outside because it was so nice.

What else has gone on?

Baby O is convinced he belongs with the sheep – he calls them all Churchill. If he’s left unattended for second he is off to the barn. They come up to him and allow him to pet them, and seem to be extra calm around him. He has earned the nickname “Water Moccasin” because any time anyone plays with the hose he is right there helping/playing in it. He is an ace at filling water buckets and watering flowers. He’ll even haul his 5 quart bucket full of water to the pen to help with chores.



The minions are adapting to “farm” life easily. They go out and help do chores with me and most recently we’ve been getting our new to us chicken coop ready to go. We bought it on craigslist for a price that is cheaper than what it would have cost us to buy the materials and build it.






J needs to put it on skids so we’ll be able to move it around. Initially we want to put them in the pasture with the sheep, as the electric fence should deter the canines that live at the house.



At the end of day there’s always time for a little book reading. Lately everyone has been clamoring to read “North American Wild Life.” It’s a Reader’s Digest book my mom bought and it has been part of my life as long as I can remember. Last summer, she gave me the book to share with my kids.

The Minions

Life with three kids ages 5 and under is interesting, to say the least. There's never a quiet moment, nor a moment where I feel unneeded. Most times it's great. However, there is a time when all I want to do is just escape for a few hours. A few hours where I can hear myself think, have an uninterrupted conversation with my husband, and knit. The 20+hour road trip will be a most excellent opportunity to get away.

This is what I'm leaving behind.

E-minion, age 5, going on 18.

I-minion, the boy with million mile eyelashes.

Baby O, who will eliminate any threatening string cheese that comes his way.

I hope Grandma is ready. She's never had all three of them, nor for this long. They'll still head to daycare during the day so she'll have a reprieve during work hours.

Farm Girl

E-minion asked me this morning if she could borrow my drench gun so she could give medicine to Sarah Jessica, her purple unicorn pillow pet. She names everything Sarah Jessica, including the frogs she catches and the Japanese Asian Lady Beetles she captures and puts in margarine tubs.

Apparently the equine version of Sarah Jessica has been pooping all over the minions' room and she needed to do something about it. E-minion said Sarah Jessica was also too tired to eat and not interested in getting ear scrtiches.

After a close inspection, I realized that Sarah Jessica had an upset tummy because she'd been gorging on the freshly greened grass in the yard. Her tummy wasn't used to the change in diet from hay. We set her up with a little electrolytes, and some hay for the day. Then after work/daycare Sarah Jessica can go out and have some hay, but not too much. I told E-minion she'll have to keep a close eye on her, just to make sure that it doesn't get any worse, or we might have to call Vet Sandy.

This isn't the first time Sarah Jessica has been sick. She was ill a few weeks ago when E-minion was home sick from school. They both snuggled on the couch and I had to played veterinarian with her. We were able to make Sarah Jessica better by lacing her water with some Pedialyte (a ice cream bucket with some Legos thrown in the bottom)  and a special ration of grain -- served out of one of the rings from Baby O's stacking toys.

By the next morning E-minion and Sarah Jessica were feeling better.

Tonight I hope that our plan of action has helped Sarah Jessica and will further E-minion's creativity. Who knows when she grows up, maybe she'll want to be a vet. I know that's what I wanted to to when I was her age.

Sheep and Death

We raised sheep when I was little -- like really little. We moved off the farm in 1984, just after I turned 5. I vividly recall my parents joking about one sheep having a brain, and with two sheep you have half a brain. Since sheep are flocking animals, an individual owns more than a couple, you've diminished sheep brain power significantly. Really sheep can't be that unintelligent as they've survived for thousands of years and really can thrive in almost any environment.

Since my quest for sheep formally began, I've heard several more tidbits about sheep and their likelihood of keeling over. My favorite, from a co-worker who also raises sheep: "Sheep die and then they get sick."

Folks who are around sheep regularly know they can be pretty sneaky and don't really show symptoms of being ill and when you realize they're sick and then it's pretty dire.

J, who has never been around livestock, spends his free time reading books about sheep, namely Storey's Guide to Raising Sheep, and he's a little disturbed by the health section talking about all the diseases and issues sheep can and do come down with. So much so, while working on the fence J was channeling the sheep saying things like "Oh, I'm tired, I don't think I'm going to go eat, so I'm going to die." Or "I'm bored today, so I think I'm going to die." Or, "I haven't had any energy drink to day, so I think I'm going to die."


Last night at supper while we were discussing fencing, I-minion decides that to try his own hand at a sheep death joke. Here's what he said "We wouldn't want to the fence to not be square, because it would upset the sheep and you know they might ..." At that moment he cocks his head to the side and clicks his tongue, indicating the sheep's demise.

Well we're going to do our best to make sure the fence is square. We've settled on high tensile wire, likely five strands, and the option of electrifying. Since we're expecting a cold, rainy weekend, we'll probably pull out the remaining woven wire fence that is so squished a 5-year-old can step over it without problems.

Sleeping beauties

I realized this had been sitting around in my drafts folder for a while, so I've decided to post. This was before the great bunk bed purchase of 2010, but after Baby O was born. March maybe?

I captured these images when I checked on them right before I went to sleep.

My aunt always put new makeup on right before she went to bed. When I was about 5 I asked her why she did that she told me that if I die at night the undertaker will know what I'm supposed to really look like.

In some ways my daughter takes after her -- red curly hair, fiery personality. In her own right E-minion loves the color pink, purple and jewelry. If something were to happen, she'd want everyone to know that she's a princess -- or was. Now she's really into Darth Vader.






I knit these red sleeping socks for I-minion at his request. He soon discovered they didn't stay on his feet really well, but made excellent lobster claws, and were perfect for keeping his hands warm at night.

Justified hiatus

The last little while I've been a bit busy.




Baby O, officially known as Owen James arrived at 8:43 a.m. Monday, Feb. 1 and he weighed 8 pounds 6 ounces and was 21 inches long. The "little" guy was two weeks early but very, very healthy.



From the beginning I have been convinced he takes after his father. While in labor he kept sneaking away from the Doppler they were using to monitor his heart rate. At one point in the night I'm sure that he put on his tinfoil hat and said "Screw this, I'm going into hiding."

When went in for the cesarean section, he had disengaged himself from my pelvis and had floated to the top -- attempting to get away.

The only instance we've had of the minions disliking their brother came after a no-nap day and E-minion told me that she wanted to send him back. I-minion likes to give him Eskimo kisses. (For the interested folks, that's Grandma K ).


The first two weeks the kids always commented on the fact his eyes were open. It took me another week to realize the reason why they were so interested was because the only other babies they'd been around were baby kittens, who don't open their eyes for a couple weeks.


Hello Handsome, welcome to the world!

Projectile Vomit

Three more sleeps has become my mantra over the last 24 hours or so. J will return from China late Wednesday night.

I had two fears while he was gone. My No. 1 concern was a big snow storm would hit and I'd have to plow out the yard. My second concern was that the kids would get sick. It happened.

We were 35 miles from home after spending the weekend at Gramma Caela's when Edie started complaining her tummy hurt. Then she proceeded to projectile vomit throughout the entire car.

We stopped and I mopped it up best I could, changed her clothes and we got on the road again. I think I got the car cleaned out (although I fear opening the door to see if the smell is gone). I think her seat is clean, too. I think this afternoon I'll reinstall her car seat.

So far, no barf today. I think she's over it, and will be able to go to day care tomorrow and I can go back to work.

The Far East

From now until Thanksgiving the minions and I are holding the fort down while my husband is exploring the Far East. Well, maybe not the entire country, but the Eastern coast and Shanghai area. J's job is one where he works with engineers and suppliers who are based in China. He is on his annual trip across the Pacific.

We've spent the previous couple weeks getting the minions ready for the trip. We've made paper chains to count the number of sleeps until Dad comes home (13 as of today, Friday, Nov. 13). The kids cut and taped/glued them together. When I-minion finished his chain he commented on its length. "This is really long, that means Dad is going to be gone a long time." He started to cry. "There is water coming out of my eyes and I can't stop it."






The kids have been asking a lot of questions about China and where it is in relationship to where we live. After lunch on Sunday J broke out my globe circa 1918 (a antique store find more than a decade ago). Normally it sits on my cabinet in my dining room looking scholarly.

J pointed out where we live, and how far away China is and pointed out some of the different cities they'll be visiting.

Last time J was in China the kids were just about ready to turn 2. This time they know what's going on. Multiple times a day I hear: "I'm sad because my dad is gone" or "I miss daddy."

We'll be talking to J via skype a couple times. The kids' stuffed dogs that look like their real dogs are with him in China. I expect checking e-mail regularly with the kids so they can see what type of adventures the puppies have.

This is of course difficult for me, too. J and I are partners in everything in life. J and I split cooking, cleaning and parental duties. I'll be honest when I say it is intimidating to be doing this alone right now. It's also unusual for me to take over some of the duties that J just normally handles -- like loading and unloading the dishwasher and putting the dogs in the kennel in the morning.

I was raised by Muppets

I learned about life by watching Sesame Street. So many life lessons were learned on the street: Making friends, compromising, and counting in Spanish. Gordon was the first black man I'd ever encountered. Kermit the roving reporter inspired me to become a journalist.

We lived in the country. After my brother hopped on the bus, I would eat breakfast and Mom and I would head outside to do chores or other tasks of farm life. But mostly, I played with the sheep and chased the cats.

By 11:30 we'd be back inside and my mother would let me turn on the television. South Dakota Public Television was one of three channels that came in clearly. The first notes of the theme and seeing the kids and Big Bird walking through the grass would send me running to my mother urging her to start the water for macaroni and cheese.

As the water boiled and the noodles cooked I watched Kermit, Grover, Oscar and Cookie Monster learned about a world that seemed so foreign to a preschooler living in rural western South Dakota. I admit "Monster Piece Theatre" scared me, and I giggled madly when they decided they needed to count all thieves from "Ali Baba and the 40 Thieves."

The life events that happened on Sesame Street seemed to mirror what was happening in my own life. Maria and Louis had Gabby about the same time my little brother was born. Mr. Hooper died shortly before my grandmother did. Seeing how the Muppets coped with life somehow made it OK for me to be worried if my parents would have time for me after the baby was born and to be sad about Grandma Edie dying.

As I've grown up I realized the skits, parodies and events at 123 Sesame Street mirrored pop culture, great literature and world events. Looking back, I think the combination of Sesame Street and my parents' influence played a critical role in developing my love of literature and learning.

I'm now the parent of 3-year-old twins. As cliche as it sounds as much as things change, they stay the same. I still live in the country. It's western Iowa instead of South Dakota. We get four television channels over the air and one of them happens to be Iowa Public Broadcasting. Sesame Street is a big part of my children's lives.

The format has changed a bit. The theme has a hip-hop bend. The Muppets are still there, so are the lessons. Interestingly enough I find the show draws me in much like it did when I was a child. Perhaps not quite to the extent of E-minion and I-minion are. They are exploring their world via the same street I did. Unfortunately the worlds are completely different. I am comforted that the kind words of Maria and the rest of the Muppets (including one of my favorites, Grover) are there to guide my babies as they grow up.

Today marks the premier of the 40th Season of Sesame Street. The Minions and I will be watching at 5:30 p.m., when it airs on IPTV. So in honor of the anniversary I am providing a couple of videos marking some of the best of the best. One old school clip -- Kermit the Frog, roving reporter -- and one that the minions and I both love -- Murray Had a Little Lamb.

I made my first major road trip alone with the kids this past weekend. Here's how the trip to Mitchell broke down.

5:10 p.m Left day care. The car is loaded. Everyone went potty and we’re on the road.

5:25 p.m. Stop to get gas in Orange City, about 20 miles from home. No one has to go potty. I go in to pay for gas and wait 15 minutes for the most incompetent cashier EVER to ring up a dude’s donut, lottery ticket and doh, he forgot to add the $20 in gas, but couldn’t figure out how to add the gas to the previous total of $3.28.

5:45 p.m. On the road again, finally.

6:15 p.m. Hit Hawarden, 20 more miles downt he road and turn onto Highway 12 to head south. A chorus of “I have to go potty” erupts from the back seat. I back track, to hit the new Casey’s -- which I know has a public potty and escort the minions to the bathroom.

6:25 p.m. On the road again. I finally give up on trying to listen to some news as I am bombarded with a slew of questions. Namely I explain what a gravel pit is, what an irrigation system is and speculate with I-minion where the train might go and why it isn't on the track for him to see. E-minion is content to watch the fields pass by -- almost on the verge of sleeping, I think.

I cruise through Akron, smugly knowing that I am on my way to Westfield (which is 20 miles from our last stop) where I will cross the Big Sioux River and have the highway automatically turn into the road that will lead me directly to Vermillion -- the midpoint of this adventure.

Alas, I approach the turn, the Iowa DOT has conviently blocked out the sign, that I assume says Vermillion, SD X miles. I have to back track to Akron to find a place to cross the river. I’m thinking horrible thoughts a la Oregon Trail and fording the river so I can cross wherever I want to. But, I don’t think it my little station wagon would do as well as a canastoga wagon and a horsepower of two --especially since the river looks high.

I answer a ton of questions about the bridge being closed for repairs.

I take the detour and head up and down some wonderful bluffs that A) I cannot believe they paved roads here and B) I estimate the slope to be somewhere around 12 percent range. E-minion mentions it makes her tummy feel funny. Thank you South Dakota for you 65 mph speed limits and my lead foot, for giving my daughter her first roller coaster experience.

I get off my detour, and attempt to follow my directions which were way whacked. So I eventually just find a paved road figuring it will either get me to Vermillion or to a sign which will tell me what direction to go to Vermillion.

7:25 p.m. I am on Cherry Street in Vermillion (which happily is Highway 50, for future reference) I call the little brother and we meet at McDonald's. As I finish the conversation E-minion pipes up I have to go potty NOW. I unbuckle her, she looks a little pale.

As we are washing hands, I-minion wanders under the automatic hand dryer, it turns on and scares him. He screeched and jumped enough to almost whack his head on the dryer. We come out and my little brother and his new girlfriend are there.

We eat the standard chicken bites and a couple fries, drink our chocolate milk. I-minion new stories about the 4969 pickup he works on with his dad. E-minion dances around her chair, it’s all good.

We hop in the car, with the little brother and head out. Everything is going well, and all we hit a weather front and the temperature drops from 55 to 42 degrees. The wind picks up and it to rain, hard. In no-man’s land between Yankton and Tyndall I-minion announces he has to go potty.

I try to convince him to wait until we get to a town. It didn’t work. I pull over, unbuckle. He doesn’t like the wind, rain or traffic – it scares him. Frankly, it scared me. It’s a two-lane highway that’s busy.

I-minion get’s his first “pee in the bottle” experience while standing inside the back hatch of my car, while shivering.

After I buckle him up, tuck his favorite blanket around him, he shivers for a bit before he announces he’s not doing that again – it’s too cold.

8:45 p.m. both minions crash.

9 p.m. Mom calls “Where are you?” Not there yet, I respond and remind her of traveling with toddlers is like.

9:30 p.m. We pull into Mitchell, park the car and haul sleeping minions from the car into Grandma’s where they promptly wake up, convinced it’s time for breakfast.

The rest of the weekend went swimmingly. We shopped, getting new summer clothes. We fixed the grill, we napped (and mama ran errands with her mama). Then after nap we went to the farm were we met a baby cow. The minions were worried that he was all by himself and wondered why John didn’t have a calf-sitter.

We saw a batch of newborn kittens. Everyone took a turn driving the tractor. E-minion is a pro, after driving the mower with mom last summer as we picked up sticks. I even got in on the tractor driving. I hope to post more about the weekend soon.

Gullible

Sometimes I must tune out the constant noise coming from the mouths of my children. Usually I just listen for the plaintive cries that mean someone is hurt. Those are usually are prefaced with a general scream/screech and in the worst cases a loud thump.

Saturday night I was visiting with J as we cooked supper. The kids were playing in the living room and I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention. They weren’t fighting, but they were digging things out of the large drawers of my entertainment center.

Soon there were screeches. Then a couple screams that became more distressed. I finally realize that this isn’t going to go away and I head into the living room. I come in to find E-minion shoving the large bottom drawer closed as hard as she possibly can, but there’s a problem – a leg is sticking out and she’s slamming it and each time she does I-minion squeals.

Yes. My daughter was shutting her brother in a drawer. It was so hard not to laugh. After E-minion got a time out for hurting her brother and I-minion got calmed down we had the discussion about how it wasn’t OK to push her brother around and to not automatically do what the other suggests.

Thankfully I was able to avoid the “If your friends jumped off a bridge would you do it too?” scenario. Iminion then asked me what “Gullible” meant, because Eminion called him that before he crawled in the drawer.

More Conversations with a now 3-year-old

Cast of Characters: I-minion, Mom
Setting: In the Garage, after we get home from day care

[I-minion picks up a 'Noah and the Arc' lift the flap book up from between the car seats and starts looking at it and identifying animals pictured.]
I-minion: Mama, who is this book about?
Mom: [Looking at the book] It's about Noah. Remember him?
I-minion: So, does this Noah guy, like "know things?"
Mom: [Rolls eyes] I suppose so. He knew he had to build the big boat and gather two of all of the animals.
I-minion: Yeah, but HOW does he know things?
Mom: I'm guessing God told him.
I-minion: Oh. OK.

One Day After the Time Change

6:20 a.m. J stumbles out of the bed; questions whether a spot he thinks he sees on the wood floor in our bedroom is blood (from the dog); decides it isn’t and heads down stairs. I'm left questioning what was a blood spot and if there was a spot, why did he leave it. For the record, Rocky frequently bleeds in our room.

6:30 a.m. I realize the likelihood of the college calling a snow day are pretty slim. Yes, we got several inches of snow, sleet and freezing rain, but it all melted less than 6 hours later.

6:32 a.m. I stumble downstairs wondering why the kids aren’t up yet and silently rejoice.

6:45 a.m. I finish the morning routine in the bathroom, deciding that my hair doesn’t look too Medusa-like and confine it with a head band. I stalk out to the laundry room dreading that I probably have a dryer full of wrinkled clothes that should have been hung up yesterday.

6:46 a.m. I rejoice that my husband hung up the entire load of clothes. Find my favorite black pair of pants, and a shirt – any shirt. I settle on a pink v-necked sweater with three-quarter length sleeves.

6:47 a.m. I am dressed and putting my shoes on. J isn’t dressed yet.

6:49 a.m. I flick on my hot water pot to make tea to take to work. I tripped over one of the dogs and stepped on the cat.

6:50 a.m. I start assembling my knitting for Knit Night tonight, putting the kids backpacks, snow pants and shoes all together. I realize Edie’s snow boots are still SOAKING wet from our adventure yesterday outside.

6:55 a.m. J heads up stairs to wake the kids up, apparently the time change has gotten them.

6:56 a.m. The screaming begins.

6:57 a.m. J comes downstairs with mole baby (Eminion) and a screaming Iminion. He also has their big Kelli blankets and their clothes. [No this isn't theirs, it a sample of the wonders that polyester and flannel can do]

6:58-7:12 a.m. The screaming continues. J wrestles the kids into their clothes. Ian finally calms down.

7:13 a.m. This is the normal time I herd the kids out the door. Iminion tromps out to the laundry room, reluctantly puts his boots on. Throws a small fit about putting his coat on, thinking I won’t zip it for him.

7:14 a.m. The screaming continues. Gently remind him that I’ll help him zip it up. Gather up my knitting bag, purse, tea cup, and grocery bag full of snow pants to haul to the car.

7:15 a.m. J is helping Eminion to put her coat on. She hands me her boots and says “They’re still Weeet” in all the whine a 3-year-old can muster that early in the morning.

7:18 a.m. I walk out the door with a second load of crap to haul to the car; including Eminion’s wet boots. I was feeling quite like a pack mule at the time. Iminion follows because he wants to be buckled up.

7:19 a.m. I dump the load, buckle him up. He complains he’s cold. I forgot to let the car warm up.

7:20 a.m. I meet Eminion standing in the doorway. “Carry me!” she demands. I refuse, she melts into the floor of our dirty nasty garage. I walk past her, to get the last thing, the kids’ blankets.

7:22 a.m. I say good-bye to J and walk out the door. Eminion is in full on fit.

7:23 a.m. I realize I’m so very, very late. I pick her up. Haul her out and put her in the car seat.

7:24 a.m. I discover how flexible Eminion’s back is, based on how much arch she is able to get while fighting me. Iminion is crying because he’s cold. I pull his blanket on him.

7:25 a.m. The screaming continues. I can hear it when all of the doors are shut. I tell J I’m glad I only have to take them ¾ of a mile to drop them off at day care. He’s putting the dogs in the kennel.

7:26 a.m. I sit down, buckle up and start the car. I am serenaded for the entire trip to day care.

7:35 a.m. Finally get out of day care and begin the trip to the office, contending with slick roads, fog and a general foul humor.

8:10 a.m. I arrive at work. I am now puzzling the importance of switching to daylight savings time, and how much good it really does us.

Nothing is safe, anymore

Iminion has an uncanny ability to see and understand how things work. He mastered pounding nails into boards at about 18 months -- that is, if he could find a knot hole, or some other flaw in the board to hold the nail in place. By the age of 2 he could pound in a whole line of nails in a 2-by-4, without any prior holes. To this day, I almost think he is more accurate with a hammer than than I am.

In the last two months he's conquered the skill necessary to twist a screw into a board. This skill has manifested in ways ultimately more useful than pounding nails. Iminion discovered he could remove the screws holding his toys together and the theoretically well designed battery compartment lid.

He decided to change the batteries in his police car. After scrounging up a phillips screwdriver, that's exactly what he did.




Tonight while putting laundry away, he'd found a little screw driver that comes with assemble-yourself-furniture and he decided to remove the brackets that hold the shelving unit in his closet. I discovered this when he had four screws out.
He loves to "fix" and he knows where all the tools are located -- especially mine. My tools are kept in "sanctuary" to protect them from tool raiders. J, my husband is a known plunderer of tools and it appears Iminion is too.

Everyone encourages it. Iminion and his Uncle Dan assembled a bird feeder after opening Christmas presents.



This summer he was all about building and fixin'.


Heaven help me when he is capable of even more than this.