Minnesota Twins

For someone who doesn't know much about baseball, I really love the Twins. Always have, actually. I totally wore out my sweatshirt from the '87 World Series, for example. My best memories of the Twins, though, have to do with my dad, who loves them even more than I do. I think The Twins may be the only reason he comes to visit us (The Twins and his grandchild. In that order.) Today, Dave participated in the 2012 Twins Draft where he battled for the games we'd like to attend against the two other couples who share our season tickets. It's a pretty cordial affair, but we really wanted tickets for the weekend in April when my parents will be here. And we got them! My dad can enjoy himself after all.

Between the draft and this blogging challenge, we are totally ready to hit the ballpark.

Detroit Tigers

Indiana Rock on a California Roll, I'm so glad you asked about other baseball related things that Sam is into! Because he does know how to roar like a tiger. A Detroit Tiger? Maybe. I don't know what tigers in Detroit sound like, but Sam's tiger is pretty breathy and demure. Like an exhale. This sound is one of many in Sam's animal repertoire. He can also trumpet like an elephant, moo like a cow, cluck like a chicken, woof like a dog, mew like a cat, ee-ee like a monkey, hiss like a snake, and beat his chest like gorilla. My favorite, though, is the rat-a-tat-tat like a woodpecker that he learned from his cousin. He can't otherwise talk or walk yet, but we're still very proud of his many accomplishments.

St. Louis Cardinals

I just learned about a new blogging challenge (thanks, Pronto!) which requires a post each day of March related to a major league baseball team. At first, I thought this sounded really hard. And then when I tried to write my post, I found out that it IS really hard. But I'm going to do it anyway. Here goes.

Sam and I look at cardinals everyday from the bay window in our family room. He doesn't know how to say cardinal yet, but he does say "tee"when I point them out. I figure that's pretty close. I'm guessing they have cardinals in St. Louis too, but the cardinals we see are right here in St. Paul. 

Now if we could only get some Blue Jays or Orioles to land on our feeders this challenge would be a cinch. 

The Sunshine

I spent the first part of the day on campus pretending to be a grad student who has it together enough to be speaking about research on a panel for a department recruitment event. I think I pulled it off. And it was nice to see some peeps who, like me, are fighting the good fight against procrastination and to meet some new, wide-eyed recruits who, unlike me, will probably finish this program in a respectable time frame. Now I'm at one of those challenging moments in the day where I have 45 minutes of childcare left and don't really know which of several projects on which to get started. And I am wondering if I should just call it quits on the brain work and go walk in the sunshine for a while. The answer seems obvious.

Little, Brown, Furry Rodent

One of the reasons that we haven't been able to organize the new house and unpack the boxes (aside from general laziness and apathy) is that we have a number of co-habitators of the small creature variety who like to chew on boxes, store away their winter provisions, and leave other remnants of their presence strewn about the attic. I'm talking about squirrels, people.

For over a month now, we've been hearing lots of ruckus up there. Things falling over. Scratching. Gnawing. General squirrel activity. After further investigation, we discovered quite a mess and, more importantly, spotted a little red squirrel scurrying up a pipe on the side of the house which led right into the attic. Busted.

So we borrowed a live trap from Dave's colleague, purchased some dried corn cobs, slathered the cobs with peanut butter, and placed the trap with bait in what seemed to be the center of activity in the attic. We didn't catch anything the first day even though the corn was gone. This was a difficult discovery for Dave, and he spent, literally, three-quarters of the day researching how this could have happened, reading consumer reports on the best bb guns for killing squirrels and other small creatures, and listening to me explain my moral opposition to having a gun of any kind in the house.

Luckily, we caught the squirrel the next morning. He had some words for us about being trapped in a cage but was otherwise cooperative. Dave took him to work and set him free in a nearby park. As Dave described it, the squirrel ran faster than any squirrel he's ever seen run in what seemed to be a straight line for our house, four miles away.

Just to be sure we didn't have a whole family of squirrels in the attic, we set the trap again that night. And we caught another squirrel the next morning. And the next morning. And the next. We're up to four squirrels total this week. And all but one bolted in that straight line back to our house.

Since we didn't develop any effective way to mark the squirrels (aside from comparing their reactions to being trapped in a cage), we can't be sure that we're not seeing the same one over and over. But it seems unlikely. Right? Whatever might be going on, it's become clear to us that squirrels are intelligent beings who should never be shot with a bb gun. Well, that's become clear to one of us.

Today was the first morning without a squirrel, and I'm hopeful that we can finally seal the hole where they've been entering the attic. I have a feeling, though, that even then it won't be the last we see of squirrels (or mice or raccoons or birds) in this old house.

The Transition

Sam's nanny had to take some time off recently, so I've been home for an entire week with an overtired toddler who refuses to take an afternoon nap. I realize that he's probably transitioning to one nap a day, but I also know he's a pretty willful child who will just decide not to sleep now and again. Yesterday, at the library, I confessed to another mother that Sam was refusing to sleep because I thought it seemed pretty obvious that he was tired and that I was, thereby, a terrible mother. Her response was, "I remember that stage. I'm sure he'll be taking one three or four hour nap very soon." Yes, lady. I'm sure he will. And by that I mean, I won't be holding my breath.

So, as always, any napping related advice is welcome here.

Toddling

Today I did a pretty good job working on The Dissertation, and while I'm finding this to be a more cyclical process than I would like, I did move forward in a baby step or two.

And speaking of baby steps, Sam is working on his toddle. He makes his best moves with the dining room chairs and a slick wagon he got for his birthday.

A Trip Around the Sun

It's official. Sam is one!

Dave and I spent the evening before his birthday working on a sugar-free, organic, whole-wheat cake. "We can crank that thing out in like 25 minutes." Those were the words that doomed us. Three and a quarter hours later, we finally had the most expensive and least tasteful cake ever made. But it was kind of cute:

Even if it didn't look quite like this: