Carrot and Raisin Salad

I pre-wrote my last couple of blog posts and scheduled them to post when they did.   I don't think I've actually sat down to write a post in almost a week.

Want to know why? 

It's too damn hot.

There have been/are excessive heat warnings every day this week.  It was 117 degrees when I got in my car after work yesterday.  It was so hot I had heat shivers.  I felt like I needed IV fluids after taking Spencer to school today.  I was so dehydrated that I didn't even have the energy to get something to drink.  And poor Elliott.  He just keeps looking at us with a look in his eye that says, "why in the hell did you people choose to live here?  Was there something wrong with the Pacific Northwest"?  (Yes, his eyes said Pacific Northwest).

I wanted to tell you about our days on Sunday and Monday.

Sunday started well.  Spencer was following Ginger around the house and sitting every where she sat.  It was driving her crazy.  Here her eyes are saying, "get the eff away from me, kid". (Yes, Ginger's eyes cuss, but in an edited, PG-13 way). 

After I took the previous picture I asked why nobody in this family ever looks at the camera and on cue they both looked at the camera. 

Elliott enjoyed a little cardio in the jumperoo.

We had a nice, enjoyable time at home not really doing anything but avoiding going outside at all costs.  Then came dinner.

Earlier in the day I had made some carrot and raisin salad.  Spencer had watched me use the food processor to shred the carrots.  He watched me take the raisins out of the package and add them to the carrots.  He comes to the table at dinner time, looks at his plate, and says, "um, Mom, this food is unfamiliar to me."  #1.  You're 4.  What are you doing using the word unfamiliar?  #2.  It's carrots and raisins.  You like those foods. You also watched me make it. 

Side note: how awesome is this plate that my aunt and uncle got Spencer?  I take pictures when I arrange food on it particularly well.

Spencer is a god-awful slow eater, but he is not a picky eater.  He refuses to eat green beans and peppers, but he's pretty open to trying new things.  Even if it's just a bite.  On Sunday he flat out refused to try anything on his plate (the other stuff is cut up turkey burger).  And then it all went downhill.  He got mean, we got frustrated.  Things were said.  Threats were made.  And a certain first born ended up in bed, with no dinner, at a very early hour. 

It was not a good way to end the day.

Spencer and I always cuddle in his bed before he goes to sleep and we talk about things.  That night we talked about his poor attitude and how it makes mommy sad and how he could try to improve his attitude the next day.

On Monday Spencer was 4 years 11 months old.  Here's the official picture.

I cannot believe that this kid is going to be 5 in less than a month.

Apparently Spencer thinks that "working on his attitude" means asking me to take his picture because he asked all day for me to take it.

We tried *again* to get the three of them.  Sigh.  Maybe when Elliott is 5, Spencer is 9 and Ginger is so old her arthritis doesn't allow her to move I can get a good one.

Elliott's room has a crib and a twin bed in it right now.   That twin bed is actually one of two.  The frame for the other is under that twin.  The matttress is behind our bed as a pseudo head board.  We're pretty ghetto.  Spencer likes to play on it.  I always tell him that I don't have the time or the money to take him to the ER when he cracks his head open by falling off it, so every time he's up there he points out to me that his head has not cracked open yet. 

Right after I took the above picture Elliott decided he would like to crack his head open and he hurled his body through the air.  He would have fallen off the bed if Michael hadn't been standing right there to catch him.  I guess I could have put the camera down and caught him, but then we wouldn't have this great picture.

Man Down!  (which is actually what Michael yelled as he scooped Elliott up).

After the debacle that was dinner on Sunday we decided we were going out on Monday.  It's the 3rd time we've taken Elliott to dinner.  I LOVE that the ability to go to dinner is back in our lives.  We wanted something easy and void of nutritional value, so we went to Freddy's for burgers.  It was our first time there. 

On the way we drove by the lakes in our neighborhood and saw some ducks waddling around.  I said that I wanted to eat duck for dinner and Spencer got really upset saying that you cannot eat ducks.  I told him that duck is delicious.  Then he repeated that you can't eat ducks.  So we told him that people eat chickens, why would ducks be any different.  Then we blew his mind and told him that people can eat geese and that bacon comes from pigs.  Then he said that he didn't want to eat any animals.  So......we ordered him a hot dog. 

And he scarfed it down.

Elliott, who does not oppose the consumption of delicious animals, ate chicken and zucchini and mango.

And stared at other diners.

While we were eating dinner, Spencer, just out of the blue, says, "this dinner is so good.  The music on the radio is nice and it's so clean here and Elliott isn't crying and my food tastes just so, so good.  I just love this place.  I want to have dinner here every day."  A little while later a manager came by to see if everything was OK.  Michael and I gave our socially appropiate responses (yes, everything is fine, thank you) and as the manager was walking away, Spencer yells after him, "our dinner is great.  I just love my hot dog and the music is so nice."

So we got our little restaurant critic a dirt n worms sundae.

After we got home it was brother bath time.

I don't know what they are looking at, but I love that their eye gaze is the same.

We had cold sandwiches and fruit for dinner tonight.  I can't even bring myself to turn the stove top on.  I feel like the microwave heats up the kitchen too much.  I was tempted to put a scoop of carrot and raisin salad on Spencer's plate just as a joke, but I didn't want that to be the defining moment that he reviews with his therapist of when his life took a turn for the worst, so I refrained.  Guess what he ate with his lunch though?  Baby carrots and raisins.

Can somebody please explain to him how they are the same?

They are the same, dammit.  No difference.  AHHHHHH.  Why doesn't he get it?