Charlie Jo at MSU

This weekend, NanaB, GrandDad, and I took Charlie to my beloved MSU for the first time.  We took her up on October 15, the day of the MSU/UM game.  We did not go to the game, but took in the sights and sounds of the campus.  We started at Beaumont Tower.

After that, Charlie tailgated with Mr. Drew and Miss Kym.

After socializing a little bit, we took Charlie up to Adams Field, where the Spartan Marching Band assembles before each game.  We found the Baritone section.

It was fun to watch all the action on Adams Field before the game.  Each section warmed up, going through their traditional pregame rituals.  Some things never change, and that's a good thing.

Charlie met this member of the Color Guard.  Charlotte's mommy and Aunt Stephanie used to march in the color guards at Duke and MSU.

After the sections warmed up, then the whole band assembled.

Professor Madden conducts the SMB through their warm-up exercises.   After each song, Charlie yelled "Good job, Band!"

After the band warmed up, Professor Madden announced that the band would begin their traditional "March to the Stadium" in seven minutes.  The crowd headed down across the Red Cedar to wait for the band.

On the way over to our parade-watching position, Charlie gleefully participated in the random chants of "Go Green, Go White" that echo around campus before games.  She even high-fived people coming by. She especially enjoyed using her "Go Green, Go White" gloves that NanaB made her.

Sparty led the band.  Even though Charlie did not get to meet him personally, she was delighted to see him up close.

The Big Ten Flags came next . . .

and then the Color Guard . . .

After the band went by, Charlie insisted that we follow them to Spartan Stadium.

As we walked back to take pictures with The Spartan statue, I found this Cadillac.  Green, White and 455 cubic inches of V8 Detroit glory!

CJS, CJS, and The Spartan.

Three lifetime Spartans.

We really enjoyed taking Charlie to MSU, and she had a blast.  I can't wait to introduce Peter to MSU, and for many more campus visits with the kids.

As the game kicked off, we headed for lunch and for home and listened to the game on the radio.  We pulled into the drive way at Cobb Creek just as the Spartans defeated the Wolverines for the 4th time in a row.  

That means that UM has never beaten MSU in football in Charlie (and Quinn and Peter and Maisie's) lifetime. 

Go State!

Popcorn!

My children think popcorn magically appears from a little brown bag that I put in the microwave.  Charlotte always asks me what those "seeds" are at the bottom of the bowl when we finish eating -- no matter how many times I explain it to her, she still refuses to believe that popcorn comes from exploding kernels.  I even looked up slow-motion videos of popping popcorn on the web, but she just said "oh" and scampered off to play somewhere else.

When we ran out of the microwave popcorn, I decided to dust off the old air popper and show them a better illustrated way to get their favorite treat.  They were suspicious right from the start.

After asking me 4,000 times whether the popcorn was done yet, we finally got some action.

Then we learned why the bowl needs to stay in place under the popper.

Charlotte ate a couple of pieces and then declared it to be unfit for her consumption.  She refused to even touch it after I poured some melted butter on it.  She requested the "good kind of popcorn that we usually have."  When I told her this was it, she stormed off grumbling about how Mommy needed to go to the store to get her the kind of popcorn she liked.  Peter had a great time dumping a small bowl of it onto the floor, then picking it up and placing it on the chair.  He then licked some of it directly off the chair like a dog.  Thank goodness I gave him the bowl of popcorn before I added butter.

Even though I loved the book Popcorn from my childhood,  I had to conclude that I had grown far fonder of the microwave version.  I dumped the soggy batch into the trash and we had some crackers instead.

Almost 2

Peter is officially 22 months old.  It's hard to believe he is going to be two soon, but when I look at pictures like these I realize what a big boy he really is becoming.

Who's ready for preschool picture day?

With the cheapest package starting at $42 (for only four prints!), these will likely be her official shots.  Sigh.

A day on Madison Avenue

Since Madison's baby sister, Megan, was born last Friday, we decided to give her parents a little time to bond with the new baby (aka get some rest) and take Madison off their hands for a day.  Charlotte loves Madison like a sister, and it's possible Peter actually thinks Madison is one of his sisters since we have hung out with her so much since before he was even born.  We had a great time playing outside all morning, but it was the after lunch hijinks that I caught on camera.

Good thing I have three of these bins, because they were a huge hit.  The kids dragged them all over the house and pretended they were boats, cars, bathtubs, and beds.

I put the tent on the table, and of course they had to drag the bins in there.  Then Charlotte forced Rocky to get in on the action.  You can spot him trying to escape through the handle.

Madison's turn to exploit Rocky!

ESCAPE!!

While Petey napped, the girls did their "homework".  Each of them drew about 800 purple flowers.

Then, they insisted on hanging them on the fridge and the door to the garage.

Whew -- being artistic is hard work!

We played some more outside until Peter woke up.  Madison didn't show any signs of missing her mommy or new sister until Melissa sent us a photo of Megan on a walk.  Then Madison started requesting to see the baby.  Melissa confirmed my suspicion that Madison wouldn't rest until her demands were met, so we all went for a field trip to see the newborn.  Megan was a little cranky and tried to nurse on my bicep, which brought back a lot of memories.  Charlotte threw a fit when she realized we were leaving Madison at her house and Madison tried to leave with us, but we finally convinced both girls that we could play again later this week.

Congratulations on becoming a big sister, sweet Madison!

Temporary insanity

Every once in a while, I go temporarily insane and suggest that we have a picnic at the park.  Maybe this wouldn't be such a problem at a park without a playground, but once my single-minded children catch a glimpse of the playground equipment, all hope is lost for any dinner to be consumed without a huge fight.  My memory again failed me last weekend when I suggested another such outing.  Dinner was painful (complete with returning Petey back to his seat no less than 12 times and threatening Charlotte with going home about 800 times), but we eventually got to the fun part -- monkeying around on the playground!

On your mark,

get set, GO!  Oops -- maybe Peter jumped the gun a little.

For the first time ever, Charlie Jo braved the tricky bars between the lower playground set and the upper one.  She did it a bunch of times, but always wanted one of us right there.

She still needed help with the climbing wall.

Zip, zam,

ZOOM!

The twisty slide isn't nearly as fast, but Charlie Jo humored me and went down it a couple of times.

Who will win?  Age and experience, or a little butt that actually fits in the slide?

Somebody PLEASE remind me to feed the kids first next time I have the ridiculous notion to feed the kids within sight of a playground.  Maybe I should just attach a note in all caps to the lunch bag we bring for picnics.

Two birds with one stone

Giving Peter a sink bath (after he gave himself a dirt bath outside) accomplishes two things:

1.  It gets him clean. (duh)

2.  It calms him down from the outrageous tantrum he throws every single time I make him come inside.  He and Charlotte would live outdoors if I let them, and both kids are absolute dirt magnets when I take them out to the yard.  The only thing better than digging in dirt, however, is the rare treat of playing with running water in the sink.

Thank goodness for my deep sink (this never would have worked with my old, shallow one) and the tantrum-ending properties of running water.  Whew.

An afternoon of glamor while Peter sleeps

Every so often, I ask Charlotte if I can paint her toenails.  "NO!"  I wait a while and then test the waters again.  "NO!"  I explain to her that she can be just like her buddy, Madison, who sports a new manicure/pedicure every other week or so (her mom, Melissa, recently revealed that she brilliantly uses the nail polish as an incentive for Madison to cooperate with nail trimming sessions).  I have no problems getting Charlotte to let me cut her nails, but she never wants them painted.

The one and only other time she ever consented to it was over a year ago.  She immediately had buyer's remorse and insisted she wanted her toenails back.  Today, Charlotte asked me if she could see photos from last Thanksgiving (we were talking about how she and her cousins were all wearing matching jammies).  We looked at some other old blog posts (ah, the modern photo album) and came across the one with photos of her painted toenails.  She immediately requested that I paint her toenails and gleefully ran into my bathroom to help find the nail polish.  I was flabbergasted, but complied.  Then she wanted me to have matching toes.

I gave her the hairdryer to use to help speed up the drying process, and she thought this was hilarious.  I only got a shot of that with my cruddy cell phone camera.

Don't her little piggies look glamorous?  Someday, maybe she'll let me actually put barrettes or headbands in her hair and then keep them in there for longer than three seconds.

Matching toes!!

I turned on the TV to keep her still (and on the old, nasty carpet) while the polish hardened.  That child is a TV zombie.

Maybe next week, we'll dye some streaks in her hair.  JUST KIDDING, COREY!

The evening in photos (and a few words)

HEY!  WHY IS CHARLOTTE TAKING A BATH WITHOUT ME?!?!?  (Because when I put you in the bath earlier and saw the copious amounts of dirt coming out of your hair and off your grubby little feet, I knew she was going to need her own bath afterward with all new water.)

I WOULD LIKE TO REGISTER MY OFFICIAL PROTEST AT THIS INJUSTICE.  (You're preaching to the choir, buddy.  Trust me -- I never wanted to run two different baths and miss out on the dual bath antics that amuse me each night.)

I AM NOT AMUSED.  (Wah wah wah -- just shove over a little so I can wash your sister's hair.)

I'M JUST GONNA CLIMB IN AND JOIN HER.  THAT'S OKAY, RIGHT MOM?  (Oh no you don't, you little twerp.  Let me see if I can get you interested in a different activity since Daddy is out of town tonight and not available for Petey-wrangling.)

HEY THERE, GOOD LOOKIN'!  (Whew.  My little narcissus and his obsession with peek-a-boo saved us from an epic tantrum.)