Woohoo, Chad!

Well, I just heard from Chad in Colorado at the USASA Nationals (snowboarding competition), and he took a bronze medal in the half pipe, and a gold in the slopestyle for the adaptive division!!! So proud of him. He puts all of us wimpy bipeds to shame. I'll have to post some pics of him getting air (says the non-snowboarder) when I get them. Yay, Honey!

In more somber news from the homefront, I discovered my second grey hair today and, despite my best attempts at spellcasting, the laundry did not fold itself.

Puzzles

Clara loves her 20 Questions game. I'm not a fan of electronic couch-potato-makers, but I am okay with this mindboggling contraption. Basically, you think of a thing, it asks you yes or no questions about the thing, and then it magically guesses what the thing is! How does it do it????? I can't imagine the programming that had to go into creating something that could deduce so well. But it makes perfect sense that I can't imagine it, because I know zero about programming..... Come to think of it, this was probably a snap for some computerish person to create...but I still think it's amazing. The last few things it guessed correctly were asparagus, an octopus, and a CD player. Very cool. And good for the kid who gets a kick out of reading sentences like, "Do you need specific skills to operate it?" and "Are there several varieties of it?" Clara loves to repeat the questions to herself, and discuss it with herself to decide whether to answer 'yes', 'no', or 'sometimes'. If someone is in the room, she'll explain her rationale, give examples, prove her case. I swear we have a lawyer in the making. If you've never played this game, go and pick one up at Target. It's worth your ten bucks in coolness alone, and it has some educational merit.
Trevi is a jigsaw puzzle guy. His interest kind of came out of nowhere, but now jigsawing is a daily activity. For the first couple of days, I talked him through the process of looking critically at each piece, and now he just gets it. It's funny, because I always tried jigsaws with Clara at that age, but she just couldn't look at the void and see what was missing. She never seemed to be able to use corners, edges, colors, or even the picture on the box to help her. For Trevor, it's as if he can picture exactly the piece he is looking for, and he reaches right for it. I love to watch him at work. This train puzzle is particularly awesome, because he can drive it around the house after he's done putting it together.
Despite her lack of early jigsaw prowess, Clara is one organized girl. This is the library up on the landing of her loft bed. She carefully categorized all of the books by author, series, or subject, and then she used sticky notes to label each category. In case a new category springs up, she has piles of sticky notes at the ready. A place for everything, and everything in its place. And she rocks at Jigsaw Puzzles now, too.
And, on an unrelated note, here is what happens when we don't shut Trevor's door all the way at night. Bernie, affectionately known as Berbers, inspires a new book, "The Cat is the Hat."

A brief rant, because who has time for a long rant during daylight hours?

One of the things I would like to improve about my children is their short-term memory. How is it that, after seven straight hours of my complete participation in trains, blocks, Polly Pockets, hula hoops, magnets, obstacle courses, playdough, dominoes, jump rope, stories, Lego, baseball, and painting, I am unable to attend to life's great luxuries like, say, brushing my own teeth or emptying the dishwasher, without hearing, "When are you going to come and play with me, Mummy?"
Do I need to start putting ginkgo biloba in their oatmeal, or what?

A boy and his cat

Every year, Nana and Papa send flowers to Clara for her birthday. One pink rose for each candle on her cake, in a pretty vase, with a balloon attached. Last year, when she turned 6, Nana had the florist attach a stuffed animal instead of a balloon. And that is how Lisa entered our lives. Clara had possession of Lisa, the Siamese cat, for about a week. She kindly let Trevor play with Lisa one day, and the cat has been Trevor's pride and joy since then.
Trevi loves to dance with Lisa, play hide and seek with her, take her on walks in the backyard, read books to her in the bathroom, and help her practice acrobatic moves. He can often be found building things for his beloved pet. Today, he decided that he would help Lisa find her inner Zen by creating a meditation labyrinth for her. In case she got hungry, marshmallows (aka cylindrical blocks) were placed every few steps.
Lisa was exhausted after all of the questing for spiritual enlightenment, so Trevi built her a fabulous new home, complete with a comfy bed and a two-sided car ramp for playing with her Hot Wheels. Lisa fell asleep before her head hit the pillow. I'm sure she spent most of her REM time dreaming about how lucky she is to have a boy who loves her so much.

Manners Can Be Fun!

A few years back, Chad came home with a box of books that were being discarded by his school library. One of them was 'Manners Can Be Fun', by Munro Leaf (of Ferdinand fame). What a gem. This book was originally published in 1936, but ours is a 1958 edition. I can see some reasons why the library wanted to trash it...let's just say that the gender roles are not incredibly modern, and some of the phrasing is a bit harsh...but it is a great little book. Not only do Clara and Trevor choose it all the time as one of their bedtime stories, they quote from it as they play. Love this book. We use it to look back on moments from the day that might have been less than shining, and, more often, we find all of the ways that Clara and Trevor showed good manners that day.
One of the things that makes me happiest about this book is knowing that parents in 1936 (even without TV!) were dealing with the same kinds of annoying behaviors that irritate the heck out of us in 2008. Generational solidarity makes me feel good.

Another day, another tooth

Clara's teeth are falling out left and right these days. This latest one has been bugging her for weeks now, but finally it gave up the fight when it saw yet another apple coming at it. Clara's letter to the Tooth Fairy was quite amusing (and she is a freakishly good speller lately). Click on the picture to enlarge it...
Long before she lost her first tooth last summer, Clara had begun writing to 'her' Tooth Fairy, letting her know that things were getting a bit wiggly. Did you know that there are dozens, perhaps hundreds of Tooth Fairies flying around out there? Well, as it turns out, different tooth-losers have different financial needs, and so each child is assigned a TF who knows just what dollar amount will suit each child (Sadly, the quarter days are long gone). Clara's Tooth Fairy is named 'Lollabellith', and she brings two dollars in exchange for each tooth. Some of Clara's friends have exceedingly generous Fairies, who trade teeth for pearls, leave crisp twenties, or somehow shove stuffed animals, videos, or MP3 players under the pillows of those needy children. I don't know why I have to be so snarky...sorry....

Looking at her new smile is a bit scary, since those tiny little baby teeth are being systematically replaced by gigantic, rabbit-like monstrosities (a genetic gift from me to you, sweetie). Perhaps we should ask the Tooth Fairy to skip the chump-change-under-the-pillow routine, and consider making a direct deposit into Clara's orthodontic fund (which, as of this moment, stands at $0.00). And now the tough choices begin....what will get her further in life? Straight teeth.....or a university education?

A Little Getaway

Since it is Spring Break, we decided to get away for a couple of days and hit a few great kid destinations. On Sunday night, after a yummy Easter dinner and more eggcitement at Grammy and Grampy's, we drove down to Monterey. We stayed in a funky little motel right by the water, and headed straight to the aquarium in the morning. We were all fascinated by the jellies.
I always get criticized for never being in any pictures, so here you go. Chad forced me to relinquish my position behind the lens for a few minutes. These "Upside-Down Jellies" were cool beyond belief. Clara, by the way, is following my lead of taking far too many pictures of everything. That darned apple and tree problem again....
The penguin exhibit is one of my favorites, but it is slightly creepy the way the penguins crash up against the glass again and again, never giving up hope of escape. I have very mixed feelings about zoos and aquariums. Even in a facility like this one, where the animals are so well cared for, the teaching aspect is undeniable, and proceeds help wildlife conservation, I still feel a bit sad. At least, as a parent and a teacher, I can channel this sadness into something useful.
After nearly six hours of jellies upon jellies, otters, sea dragons, bat rays, hammerhead sharks, giant tunas, and schools of anchovies, we headed back to the motel to grab our beach gear.
It wasn't exactly what you would call a hot day, but it was warm and sunny enough for Clara to splash around a bit. Her main mission was to dig holes in the sand, and then try to fill them with water.
Trevor's favorite beach activity was having his legs buried in sand over and over, and then wiggling them loose. He then tried to make as many footprints as he could before a wave would come in and "disappear them".


After a long day, we crashed back at the motel. Clara said, "I wish we could just live in a motel. It's way more fun, because you get to all hang out in the same room, and you get to eat at restaurants all the time." Funny, because just the other day she said that when she's a teenager, she wants to live in a trailer. Please, please don't let either of those dreams come true....

This morning, we packed up and hit the road for Gilroy, home of the most fabulous little theme park for kids. It has recently been renamed, 'Gilroy Gardens', but we will forever call it by its original name, 'Bonfante Gardens'. Love that place. We discovered it when Clara was six months old, and have gone every summer since.
The park was virtually empty today, so the rides were ours for the taking. Since Gilroy tends to be rather oven-like in the summer, it was nice to visit at this time of year. The paddle boats were the highlight of the day, along with Clara's triumph of finally being tall enough to ride on the big mushroom swing thingy. And thank goodness she didn't need an adult to ride with her. I think I have outgrown spinning, and I don't think Chad ever liked to spin. So now we can spin vicariously through our daughter.
Home again, home again, and we even beat most of the traffic (a major feat around here). We had a great little getaway, and Spring Break is only half over! So my cup is half full. And the drink is very tasty. Free time is intoxicating.

Happy Birthday Trevi and Happy Easter!

Last night, everything was set out for the Easter Bunny: empty plastic eggs, a carrot, and a rather cryptic note from Clara telling the Bunny that he should slow down and try not to be in a rush all the time....
Both kids waited quite patiently until 7am, when Chad and I (with coffees in hand) finally announced the official start of egg hunting season.
Clara has a bit of an advantage over Trevor, since she doesn't feel compelled to stop and examine each egg as she finds it. She feels the need for speed. Fortunately, the C vs. T egg system works like a charm to keep things even steven.
It was a chilly morning (I like it better when Easter is in April, where it belongs), so we bundled up and headed outside to search some more.
Before long, baskets were overflowing, and Chad and I were almost completely caffeinated. We headed back in to see what the Bunny had stuffed in those 86, 000 eggs.
Okay, ya, so the Easter Bunny at our house is maybe just a bit mean....There is no chocopalooza, no fountain of jellybeans, and not a marshmallow peep in sight. Our Easter Bunny fills most of the eggs with cereal - Fruity Cheerios, though - a total treat, and Quaker Oatmeal Squares. Also, some fruit snacks (a rare delicacy), goldfish crackers, and stickers. This year, some mega bonus items: little plastic frogs, a whole set of dominoes (divvied up into a dozen eggs), twist-up crayons for Trevi, and Clara's very own scotch tape to keep in her room (how did the Easter Bunny know that she kept taking the tape dispenser from the desk and Chad could never find it when he needed it???) Finally, the biggest, most awesome surprise of all: GUM! The best thing about never letting your kids have gum is that they feel like they have won the lottery when they get a few pieces in an Easter Egg. And while our Easter Bunny may sound a little different, Clara and Trevor totally accept him for who he is, and completely appreciate his gifts despite the lack of chocolate. And we don't have to spend the next month negotiating candy intake. Thank you, Easter Bunny.


Once we had all spent a good deal of time eating cereal and lining up and knocking down dominoes, we made the mental shift from celebrating Easter to celebrating Trevor's Birthday.
Trevi's cactus collection is growing. This biggie is called 'blue candles'. It may seem, again, mean, to give a four-year-old a cactus for his birthday, but it's what he wanted, honest! Clara chose two new jigsaw puzzles for her brother, but was most excited to give him his own robot (Here you see her taking it out of the box). I believe Trevor decided he wanted a robot because one of his favorite songs is called, "Robot Parade" (by They Might Be Giants). When Clara and I stumbled upon a battery powered robot-looking toy at Target, we were elated. Ten bucks. It walks, its eyes light up, and you can move its arms and hands. Sure enough, the pseudo robot was a giant hit. It is all Trevor wants to play with. Guess we can return the bike....
Although it looks as though Clara is trying to wrestle the robot away from her brother in this picture, what she is actually doing is opening its claw? hand? pincer? so it can hold a piece of paper. Most of the next hour or so was spent sending notes back and forth across the kitchen floor, by robo-courier.
Our kitchen looks pretty festive now that it is purple, and we jazzed it up last night with a collection of streamers, balloons, and Happy Birthday signs. The big (cactus-themed) kid party will be in a couple of weeks, but this was a perfect little family celebration. Four years old. Happy Birthday, Manny. We love you!

Our baby boy turns FOUR tomorrow

In some ways it seems impossible that we have only known this beautiful boy for four years. I can scarcely remember him as a floppy little infant who couldn't do anything besides spit up (I do remember the spit up quite well- we didn't call him 'Trevi Fountain' for nothing). Even as I look through his baby pictures, I can only remember him as a baby who could play soccer, describe the growth cycle of a saguaro cactus, and make up rhyming songs while building train bridges. Thank you, video camera, for having a better memory than I do....

Countdown to Easter

This year, Easter happens to fall on Trevor's Birthday. As a result, the countdown to the doublefun, doublegreat, double celebration began long ago. It wasn't until today, however, that I let Clara get out the Easter Baskets. In preparation for the Bunny's visit, we leave out plastic eggs to be filled and hidden. Last year, we marked each egg with a C or T, to make sure that faster egg-hunters weren't unjustly compensated for their speed. Since Clara is such a fan of organization, she wanted to make sure to sort and count the eggs, so that the Easter Bunny could pour all of his energy into the more important tasks of filling and hiding.
At some point during the sorting process, Trevor decided to build a camera out of magnets, so that he could try to take a picture of the Easter Bunny. Here you see him holding the camera, explaining the plan to his sister, while she tries to convince him that the Easter Bunny is "too magical" to be caught on film. Trevor's answer: "That's no problem. This is a magic camera!"

Trevor's money collection

When I got home today, Trevi had a fistful of change. Sure, his fist isn't all that big, but he still had a good dollar or so crammed in there. I asked him why he was holding so much money, and he said it was for his money collection.
"Your money collection?"
"Yes, I collect money."
"Where do you find the money for your collection?"
"All over the house. One was on top of the dryer. One was under the couch. Some was in Clara's room."
"You went into Clara's room and took money?"
"Yes, because that's how you make a collection. You take the money and you put it in your hand or in your room and then it starts to become yours."

Of course I made him give it back, but I can't help loving the earnest explanation for his sudden accumulation of wealth. I've got to get him working on some legal strategies for making other people's money start to become his. Then maybe he can collect some money for all of us.

Sun Art

After school today, Trevi and I ran around in the backyard for a couple of hours, trying to throw a tennis ball clear across the lawn into a ridiculously small bucket. When we got tired of that game, we decided to play trains and magnets in our favorite spot inside by the sliding glass door. As it happened, we were playing in a bright strip of sunlight, and Trevor started to take note of the shadows we were creating with each item we held. He was thrilled to be able to manipulate the shadows, and every 30 seconds or so he would run into another room and bring back something whose shadow he wanted to test. One of those moments of pure childhood joy (and adult awe) happened when he held up a magnet sculpture he had made. The magnet bars were holding together transparent panels of various colors. A shadow with color in the middle appeared on our carpet.
Cranky the Crane managed to hold the magnets and panels upright for sun catching, even though he was wearing an upside-down trestle bridge on his head.
Once Trevor began to imagine the possibilites, he set to work building a bigger and (uncharacteristically) more symmetrical magnet sculpture for Cranky to hold. He also made a nice red crown for Cranky to wear, since his former hat (the trestle bridge) had been moved to a new position to maximize its shadow.
This was an off-the-charts fascinating activity. I dare say Trevi will find himself carpet-painting in the sun strip tomorrow, too.

What Would Brian Boitano Do?

I guess technically I have been a bad Canadian, because neither of my children had set foot on an ice rink until today. I don't know why it had never occurred to me to take them skating. Well, actually I guess I can think of a few reasons:
1. I am not exactly a wonder on ice.
2. Neither child ever hears much about skating, and, thus, this kind of outing has never been requested.
3. Skating feels like a Winter thing to me, and it never really feels like Winter here.
4. Any Californian who actually ever does mention skating, calls it ICE skating, as opposed to just plain old 'skating', which kind of irks me.
As it turns out, it didn't need to occur to me after all, because Clara was invited to a birthday party at an ice rink today. The parties that she goes to these days have about a 50/50 split of parents who drop off their kids and leave, and parents who hang around during the party. I tend to be a dropper offer, since Clara enjoys venturing out alone from time to time, and I don't enjoy chaos all that much (despite that fact that I frequently use Nietzsche's, "One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star" to defend my methods). Trevor and I dropped Clara off, but decided to return a bit early to hit the ice ourselves. I had warned Clara ahead of time that she would fall many times, and that skating could be quite frustrating at first. I needn't have worried. The girl took to the ice with great confidence. It turns out to be a good thing that I waited so long to introduce her to the sport, because she is plenty tall enough to hold onto the boards for support. With every lap, her grip loosened, her steps widened, and her smile grew. I am so proud of her. She wonders now if there are any pop stars who also skate professionally....

The last time I put on skates was over 15 years ago, when I was living in Ottawa. I will never forget the beavertails from those little shacks along the Rideau Canal. It seems crazy that it has been that long...if anyone reading this has skated with me since I was 23, please let me know. The only close call I can think of is sliding around wearing boots on the Lochaber Mines Flowage (er, um, that is - LAKE), attempting to play hockey with shovels and rocks...

I didn't have complete confidence in my ability to teach Trevor how to skate, but I felt that I could at least keep us both vertical- which I did. It was quite a workout for my back to glide on two thin blades while carrying around a 40 pound boy by the armpits. Thankfully, Trevi liked to stop after each lap and run around on the rubber mats.

As we watched the Zamboni work its magic, I began humming the Hockey Night in Canada theme (well, it was more of a duh duh duh duh than a hum), and only wished that we could stop at Tim Horton's for some crullers on the way home. One can dream......

An ice day. A very nice day.

Clara's Leprechaun Trap

As a follow-up to my leprechaun rant, here is a picture of the trap that Clara came up with for her homework. She took one of her Barbie chairs and painted it green (I need to give myself props for the fact that I personally built all of her Barbie furniture a few years ago, out of little scraps of wood. I even used Chad's serious power tools, like the big, scary miter saw that makes a zinging noise when the blade cuts into something). Since Clara had just learned about Roy G. Biv, she had no trouble creating this beautiful rainbow, which would lead the leprechaun to the pot of gold that is sitting on the chair's armrest. She made the pot itself out of playdough, dried and painted black, then filled with gold sequins. Since she is a firm believer in leprechauns, Clara wanted to use real gold jewelery, but I managed to talk her out of it. On the little blue plate is some candy, because who doesn't like candy? The Barbie CD walkman thingy does not actually work, so Clara insisted on bringing a U2 CD to school to attract the leprechaun. Once he heard the music of his compatriots, green guy would assume it was coming from the Barbie walkman, which was situated invitingly between the pot of gold and the candy at the end of the rainbow. If all went as planned, the leprechaun would take a seat, not realizing until it was too late that the seat was covered with double-sided sticky tape. Trapped! A victim of his own greed, gluttony, and love of Bono, the leprechaun would be stuck counting gold sequins while Clara received an A+ for leprechaun capture. I love what my brilliant daughter created. Taco Bell thinker. Way to go, sweetie! Okay, now I hope I don't have to write about leprechauns again ever.

Dinner at Preschool

Trevor goes to the most amazing, fabulous preschool in the universe. Can't say enough good about this place. Love the teachers, love the environment, love how excited Trevi is to go there. Although it is impossible to sum up in a few words, one of the defining qualities is that the interests of the children are embraced by the teachers, and explored in every way imaginable. Fascinated by waterfalls? Let's build one! Enjoy animals? Let's take a trip to the pet store and choose a new class pet! Your favorite food is ice cream? Let's make some! This place is so inspiring, so warm, so NOT shove-it-in-your-face academic. It is simply the most perfect preschool I could conjure up, and then some.
So, today the kids cooked up some pasta sauce, and families were invited to dine together in the wonderful Pier One Jr. atmosphere. Check out the low kitchen counter for miniature chefs! To the right, Chad is helping Trevor and his friends run a bakery and cookie delivery service.
Class pets include a boa of some kind, a bearded dragon, Madagascar hissing cockroaches, a rat, and some fish. The kids are also building a house for the local cat.
Clara got into the many playdough accessories. Every time we go for a visit, she decides that she wants to be a Preschool teacher (a good back-up if there are no positions available for "star"). I only wish that every preschool could be as glorious. Wow.

The trap

Where is it written in the teacher manual that we are supposed to uphold and defend the existence of leprechauns? I had NO IDEA that people actually tell their kids that leprechauns exist. NO IDEA. Thank goodness Clara's teacher got to the business of discussing St. Patrick's Day with her class before it came up with my own students. When Clara came home explaining that her homework assignment was to make a leprechaun trap, she gave me very detailed ideas about how to catch the small, greedy men. After listening to her for awhile, I said, "You realize that leprechauns are just imaginary creatures, don't you honeybun?" It is not entirely surprising that she didn't believe me. She chose to believe her teacher. So, I asked her teacher about it (who happens to be a friend of mine, because I happen to teach at the same school), and she let me know that there are many families at our school who place leprechauns in the same realm as Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Who knew? So, I have to go along with the whole thing as well. I would be pretty ticked if some teacher carelessly debunked a family myth of ours with a casual remark comparing leprechauns to unicorns (I hope they don't believe in unicorns, as well...). I guess I can live with this, but I have to say that I liked it better at my old school, where nobody was allowed to celebrate any holidays. We just celebrated learning, and let the leprechauns chase rainbows somewhere else.

Barbie Spaghetti

I just love playdough. Anything with endless possibilities is my kind of thing. I must reread The Tao of Pooh....love the uncarved block....
Tonight the playdough played the role of Barbie spaghetti. 23 noodles in total. Divided by three Barbies, so, in Trevi's words, "They all get enough, but it's impossible for them to all get the same unless I break some in half." Okay, good, so he's got division with remainders down. What was that, Trevi? Did you say, "Prime number?"
The Barbies were hungry, and kept interrupting his work.
Somehow these petite ladies managed to wolf down most of the feast. As you can see in this photo, they enjoyed each others' company throughout the meal.
Once they had finished eating, the playdough returned to its P'u state...ready for new adventures tomorrow.

Huevos con nopalitos

Trevor came home today with a prickly pear paddle (say that 3 times fast). No, he didn't rip it off a cactus and de-spine it with his bare hands...Grammy picked it up at some little mercado. I found a recipe online that seemed easy enough - basically scrambled eggs with chopped cactus, tomato and cilantro. Since we didn't happen to have any tomato or cilantro on hand, we went for the bare bones version - plain old scrambled eggs with a few pieces of cactus thrown in.
Preparing the thing was rather labor intensive....cut out all the eyes (that sounds a bit Oedipal or Shakespearean), slice off the outer edges, boil for 10 minutes, then chop it up and saute. Trevor really liked the saute part, since the cactus began to ooze out a sticky slime as it cooked. It seemed to me like the poor plant was trying to defend itself against predators.
We added the eggs (after Trevi cracked them all perfectly!), and our little Iron Chef began the business of scrambling.
In the end, it was just like eating scrambled eggs with mushy, flavorless green pepper mixed in. I can certainly see the appeal if you were a desert dweller with few alimentary options, but all in all, prickly pear just didn't do it for me. For our cactus-obsessed boy, however, huevos con nopalitos was an absolute delicacy.
If only spinach grew in the desert and was covered with spines......

Ear Infection

Trevor woke up in the middle of the night complaining that he "had hiccups in his ears", which progressed to, "My ears feel all puffy," to "There is something stuck in my ear," and finally, "My ear hurts." Naturally this always happens on a weekend....it was Saturday night, even...so there is the torture of waiting through the night, and then the trek the next day to someone other than our regular pediatrician because her clinic is closed on Sundays. But these are the things we sign up for in the contract of parenthood.....
I was feeling somewhat grumpy from lack of sleep and ridiculous waiting room wait time, but Trevor managed to stay upbeat despite his pain. He has a funny new habit of late. He really enunciates the ending consonants of most words. I have absolutely no idea how this came about, but it is just the most bizarre thing. Instead of saying, "I'm going to sit down and read a book," he says, "I'muh goinguh to situh downuh anduh readuh a bookuh." It truly sounds like he is trying to put on a really bad, stereotypical, fake Italian accent. We bite our tongues to keep from calling him Godfather or Luigi. While I do hope that Trevi will outgrow this odd phase, it is rather amusing for the time being. And it took the edge off my grumpiness today. Also, we went out in the backyard when we got home, and I found that this view knocked huge chunks out of my grumpiness.
It is a good idea to fully appreciate these gorgeous trees now, because we will be cursing them when they are spilling fruit all over the sidewalk and we have to clean it up (and when I say, "we", I mean, "Chad"). Making a cameo appearance in this shot is our cat, Moomoos.
This warm day, and the lovely blossoms put me in the mood for a little e.e. cummings:

in just-

in Just-

spring when the world is mud-

luscious the little

lame balloonman

whistles far and wee

and eddieandbill come

running from marbles and

piracies and it's

spring

when the world is puddle-wonderful

the queer

old balloonman whistles

far and wee

and bettyandisbel come dancing

from hop-scotch and jump-rope and

it's

spring

and

the

goat-footed

balloonMan whistles

far

and

wee

e.e. cummings

The Three Bears

I had an interesting conversation with Trevor this morning. He asked me why we never ate "pollidge", and if it was only a food for bears. I chuckled and asked him to tell me again what the food was called (I LOVE kid mispronunciations), and he said, "Baby Bear on Sesame Street calls it 'powidge', but that's only because he's supposed to be a baby. The real way to say it is, 'pollidge'. Did you ever notice that pollidge rhymes with college, Mummy?" So we chatted about Goldilocks for awhile, and had oatmeal for breakfast (I googled 'porridge' to make sure it actually was the same as oatmeal, and yes, it can be, but it can also be made from other grains or legumes.) Then, in his beautiful little way, Trevi suggested that we act out the story with our pollidge. And that occupied us until it was finally a reasonable hour to go to Home Depot. Let me just say that I am overjoyed to be able to turn the clocks ahead tonight (although it is a substantial job to do so, as we have way too many clocks). My children are like roosters, and I am more than happy to get ready for work in the dark if it means that there is a remote chance that Clara and Trevor will stay in bed past six.
Anyway.....Trevor has been very keen on the idea of helping to paint the kitchen, so I had promised him that we would do some painting today. As it turns out, he didn't find the reality of painting to be as fun as his vision (which was basically a rewrite of Margaret Wise Brown's "The Color Kittens", where Brush and Hush knock over a bunch of cans of paint and create all the colors of the world). I wouldn't let him knock over any cans of paint. I told him that Brush and Hush probably didn't have to pay for theirs, and certainly didn't have to clean up the mess.
But he enjoyed it for a few minutes, and most of the paint ended up on the wall. Tomorrow I'll go kid-centered and put up some butcher paper on the fence, but for today, I stuck with my agenda and tried to get more of the kitchen done. Trevor created some new backyard games involving Polly Pockets and cups full of rocks, and then he and I spent over an hour doing jigsaw puzzles. During dinner, Trevi announced, "I think that the Three Bears should try something else besides pollidge. It's good to try new things." I agreed and asked what they should try, and after thinking for a moment, he said, "I bet if they left some spicy sushi in the house, Goldilocks wouldn't want to eat it all up." There is no way that any boy in the world is more delightful than you, manny moo.

Mummy

Being Canadian, I grew up pronouncing 'Mom' like 'Mum', and 'Mommy like 'Mummy'. Ever since Clara was born, Chad has referred to me as 'Mummy' (it was up to him to be the model, since I am completely creeped out by mothers who refer to themselves in the third person - "Come here so Mommy can tie your shoes."...."Mommy will help you fill out your college applications...."), and I have hoped upon hope that Clara would follow suit with the Canadian pronunciation. She never did. When Trevor got past the Mama stage, I kept my fingers crossed that he would take Chad's lead and go with 'Mummy'. No luck. Then, several months ago, Trevor just up and switched from Mommy to Mummy one day. Naturally, he got tons of positive reinforcement from me, and continued to be showered with affection every time he said it, so he permanently adjusted his pronunciation. Clara, on the other hand, has had 5 1/2 years or so of Mommy, and it is just too ingrained at this point for her to change. Or so I thought. Last week, out of the blue, she said, "I finished brushing my teeth, Mummy." I did a little dance of joy as she told me that she wanted to call me Mummy from now on. Yay.
And I have written proof. At our conference with Clara's teacher today, we were given this letter, written to us by Clara:
I still don't want to hear my name bellowed, whined, or called out seventeen times in a row. I still don't want to hear it shouted out in the tone that indicates that one of my children is about to accuse the other of doing something forbidden, dangerous, annoying, or mean. But any of these scenarios are just a tiny bit less grating now that I am Mummy.

A purple kitchen

Tonight at dinner I sat at my usual spot, across from Clara. Behind her is the nastiest off-white wall full of chair scuffs, tape marks, food splotches and who knows what all. I have been forced to look at that hideous expanse of yuck since we moved here just over a year ago. I try to focus on Clara's sweet face, but when she sometimes chews with her mouth open, I look away...and inadvertantely catch sight of the wall. I guess tonight I made some remark like, "That wall is just disgusting!", to which Chad replied, "There's a gallon of purple paint in the garage." And that's all it took. I have been itching to paint this place...but free time isn't exactly something I ever have. So it seemed rather serendipitous that a can of paint (left over from painting the kitchen at our old house) was being dangled in front of me on an evening when my bag full of papers to grade had been accidentally left at school. Clara was instantly on board with the idea of doing something completely unheard of on a Wednesday night. She donned her "painting clothes" (an undershirt and tiny little shorts), I cleared out the table and chairs, and we officially began the de-beigeing of our house. We threw down some towels in lieu of tarps, and went at the kitchen armed only with brushes...couldn't find any rollers around, and a trip to Home Depot would have killed the moment.....and we painted not one wall, but two. It was exhilarating. I had forgotten how happy our old colors made me. I had also forgotten how rewarding it is to make such a big change in only a few hours.
Clara had a blast, and she was so determined to finish that I let her stay up until the first coat was done (I couldn't rob her of the satisfaction of the 'After', now could I?)
And a little side note:
Mad Guin and Brain Man are two cartoon characters invented by Chad, mostly to entertain the kids when we eat at restaurants. Every napkin on our table becomes a work of art. When Chad goes away on trips, we find little pictures of Brain Man (a guy seen only in profile, with a transparent skull containing a giant brain) and Mad Guin (an angry, flying penguin) hidden in drawers, under pillows, and in various other places around the house. They have become our family mascots. Here, you see that Chad couldn't resist the temptation to make a mural of Mad Guin:
The kitchen is far from done, but this was a great night.

Desert Dessert

One of the things that Trevor brought back from Arizona is a cookie cutter shaped like a saguaro cactus. We finally got around to making some saguaro cookies, and man were they yummy. (Thanks, Betty Crocker for making my life easier - mix, egg, butter....Presto!) The one problem with these cookies is that they are humongous (they're not called giant saguaros for nothing). One of these puppies is the equivalent of a week's worth of normal sized dessert for Clara and Trevor. Thankfully, Trevi would like to experiment with cookie shapes next time. Specifically, he'd like to make a boat cookie. I'm thinking dinghy, not yacht.