Lotsa Matzah Pieces

Currently it's rainy and 37 degrees. Scratch that: it's snowy. My son has no school because it's Passover. My daughter has no school because she woke up this morning with a fever of 105.2. I am able to type this now thanks to the combined power of puzzles, stickers, and chocolate matzah. Today has already been acknowledged as a "way too much TV" day, especially at the point where Pie was nursing exactly every 6.35 minutes and I needed to keep Doodles calm and quiet. So here's another peek into the exciting world of our household:

On the night before Passover there's a ritual you're supposed to do called bedikat hametz. Doodles's preschool sent home the blessings and everything you need to do this. Basically you hide bread around the house to find before the start of Passover. You light a candle and sweep the bread up into a spoon with a feather. I thought Doodles would like it, so I hid a few Cheerios around for him to find. But there was a flaw in my plan. I forgot about the human vacuum cleaner (HVC). I'd put a Cheerio down, move on to the next, only to discover that the (HVC) could detect the smell of that Cheerio from the other room and come running in to grab it. Doodles not only had to find the hametz (the bread) for Passover, he had to get to it before the HVC did. After the HVC cleaned out all the hametz by mouth (it's supposed to go into a paper bag and be burned the next day), she furiously signed for more.

There was a point on Sunday where the only person not wearing my underwear was Adam. Apparently, my underwear is the hot new thing neckwear for fashionistas under the age of four.

Doodles is very excited for Passover. "You can't eat miniwaffles," I warned him. "Or pancakes. No Veggie Booty. No crackers."
D: But I can eat matzah!
Me: Yes, you can eat matzah.
D: I loooove matzah!
Me: We'll put something on it to make it energy food.
D: No thank you. I just want plain matzah.
Me: Plain matzah?
D: Yes!
Me: For eight days!
D: Yes! Is it Passover yet? Can I have my matzah yet?
By the end of Passover that child will either be very, um, backed up or he'll have to finally relent and eat a new food. I'm guessing the former.

We went to a seder on Monday night with the intention of letting the kids fall asleep there. Of course, it didn't go quite as planned. But Doodles was happy to get to bring pajamas. I asked him, "Do you want to bring your cars pajamas?" He replied, "No, because everyone will want to touch my pajamas and I don't want them touching my cars pajamas. I'll bring my Wiggles pajamas because it's okay if people touch those." Good thinking, that boy of mine.

The Pie has been exceedingly quiet at day care, but alas, she's found her voice. Sweetie chats up a storm at home, but she would never say anything at school. Her teachers have even called her shy. But last Monday, she was playing with a bike in the gym when another child tried to take it away. Her teachers report that she very clearly told the other child in no uncertain terms: "Stop it! It's mine! I want it!" That's my assertive Pie! You go, girl! (It's like that old joke: Little Irving was five years old and had never spoken a word. His parents were concerned and took him to doctors and specialists but no one could ever find anything wrong with him. One night, the family was eating dinner when Irving looked up to his mother and said, "There's too much salt in the soup." His mother was shocked! "Irving! You can talk! And perfectly! But I don't understand; why have you not spoken till now?" Irving replied, "Up till now everything's been fine.")

Pie is also grasping the concept of Passover slowly. Yesterday she said, "Veggie Booty!" I said, "No, sweetie, that's hametz. I can get you some more fruit or some matzah." She became quite agitated and said, "All done," so I pulled her from her booster seat. She made her way to the cabinet, and I obliged and opened it for her. She started searching the cabinets, looking very confused. Finally, she threw both hands out and asked, "Where is it?" "Hametz," I replied. Finally she shrugged, grabbed some raisins and was happy.

Adam had his fantasy baseball thingamajig on Sunday. He wouldn't let me pick any of the players. It's not like it's for money or anything! There's a player called Looper. And he wouldn't put Looper on his team. How can you pass up the Looper? My God! The next day at work Adam was having some sort of crisis. I told him it was his own fault. Because no one with The Looper could possibly have a bad day.

Doodles has been giving me lots of "Huh?" moments, such as:
Doodles: I don't like chicken.
Me: You've never had chicken. You can't say you don't like it if you've never tried it.
Doodles: But I have had chicken.
Me: No, you haven't.
Doodles: But I did. When Pharaoh existed, I had lots and lots of chicken, and I don't like it anymore.
Can't argue with that logic.

My son will not eat a strawberry, but he devours this disgusting matzah-based cereal called Magic Max's Fruity Magic Cereal, which is made by Manischewitz. "Can I have more magic cereal? Pleeeeeeeeeease?" I tried it myself and considered just tossing it before I ever gave it to him. Egads does that child have miserable taste!

Pie has become very polite with her nursing. "Mommy, Ming Ming?" I can only sigh and say, "What do you say, Pie?" And then she looks up at me and gives me her most charming smile and say, "Peeeeassse!" Man, that girl is good!