A new haircut

This is me looking puzzled by the flatness that is my hair. And, as I look at this image, I now bear the same puzzled expression, because it seems physically impossible that those hands in the photo belong to me. They do, though. Nobody is lying on the floor in front of me, pointing up at my flat hair and saying, "Look at that flat hair!" I just have mutant hands, I guess.
I don't know why hairdressers always want to straighten my hair to within an inch of its life. I think they have a problem with the wavy/frizzy look that I'm normally sporting. Of course, I come home with my silky smooth salon tresses, and Clara says, "Oh, Mummy! You look so beautiful like that! You should always do your hair like that!", and I must break it to her that I would rather sleep for those last two hours than individually iron every strand of hair on my head.

So here's what the new haircut really looks like, after the usual amount of cheap shampoo, daily neglect, and getting caught in the rain (but, sadly, no piña coladas...).
I don't intensely dislike it, but it does remind me of a cut I had back in my early twenties, which was perfect for a woman in her early twenties. It also works well on many an eight-year-old. And Little Lord Fauntleroy.

Report Card Time

This neglecting-the-blog habit is getting worse and worse. I should be able to forgive myself, though, considering the neverending stack of papers that scream, "Grade us! Grade us!" as I sit here, minding my own business. If I put on my Pollyanna hat, I suppose I could say that Report Card time forces me to catch up on anything that's been scrunched in the bottom of my school bag for a month. But Pollyanna would have taken an occasional break to eat a slice of watermelon and sing "America the Beautiful" (oh, how I longed to be Hayley Mills).
I have been working too much. Way too much. But I can't think these thoughts for more than a moment, otherwise I fear I'll jinx myself and get laid-off. Unemployment would give me lots of time for blogging, but I'd have to hock the computer.
And crown thy good with brotherhood and funding for public education....

A Visit from Nana and Papa!

California didn't exactly treat Nana and Papa to its best weather while they were here, but it was sunny inside. There was plenty of time for game playing:

Piano playing:

And reading:

We always love having a reason to eat cake. Happy Birthday, Nana!

There was even a teeny bit of outdoor sunshine!
It was so nice to have you here, Nana and Papa. Come back soon!

Sweet

Lots of sweet stuff going on around here. For one, we baked up a batch of Snickerdoodles.
And the sweet goes beyond cookies!
After a long search to find the perfect poem for a class project, Clara came upon this one:

The Rainbow

Boats sail on the rivers,
And ships sail on the seas;
But clouds that sail across the sky
Are prettier than these.

There are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please;
But the bow that bridges heaven,
And overtops the trees,
And builds a road from earth to sky,
Is prettier far than these.

~Christina Rossetti

Not an earth-shattering poem, to be sure, but what got me was Clara's thoughtful, gentle reading of it, followed by her exclamation, "Oh, those words sound so beautiful!"

And finally, some sweet from Trevor:
As he was getting ready for bed, he suddenly ran out, grabbed my hand, and ran me back to his room. He said, "Mummy, I want you to listen to this song with me!" It was Danny's Song.
Trevi sat in my lap as we listened, and he said, "This song is so good, because it's about love."
Sweet.

Devious Artists

Nana and Papa will be arriving tomorrow for a much anticipated visit. We set up the aerobed a couple of days early, so that Clara and Trevi (and the cast of High School Musical) could have a sleepover.
Before the cozy photo above was taken, however, there was a not-so-cozy parenting moment. You see, when I slid the bed away from the wall to put the sheets on, I found these:
At first glance, it looked like a Trevor kind of operation. But then, I started to think.... Hmmm...the knife is there to divide the gumball in half...and the process will be illuminated by the flashlight. This was a conspiracy. Gum cutting by Clara. Lighting by Trevi.

They did fess up (after Clara first tried pulling a "Trevor made me do it"), and Chad and I had to conceal our giggles at the evil genius of the whole plot. We're going to have to keep a very close eye on those two....

In other news....
It was rainy and cold today, so out came the paints and canvases. In the works are some 25th Anniversary presents for Nana and Papa.
And, at long last, we put the finishing touches on the family masterpiece that we started last summer.
I love it beyond words. Does the ability to think up devious plans to chew gum in bed make you more artistic?

Love, Love, Love

These three are easy to love.


We had another snuggly homecoming today, not so different from a moment last October. This time, though, the walls are nice and orange, not to be outdone by the cheese of Clara's smile. I guess she's getting too used to being blogged.

And I did remember to photograph some card making today. Clara stuck to traditional symbols, like hearts....

...while Trevor opted to show his love with a Valentine's pickle.
Dill you be my Valentine? *snicker*

A bouquet of Blogs

I've been busy, busy, busy. Plus, we have been suffering the consequences of trying to switch to Vonage and then giving up and going back to at&t – long, boring story, the nutshell of which is that we were phoneless and internetless for almost a week. Luckily, my laptop was able to creep into a neighbor's wifi, but with only one bar...blah blah blah....I'm boring myself.

Finally, we're up and running again. Add to the technological wellness the fact that Chad is in Virginia, the kids are asleep, and this is a long weekend, and you've got the makings of a marathon blog session. Wahoo! I'm all caught up now. This is a similar feeling to the endorphin rush of having cleaned out a nasty closet.

I've been really skimping on the picture-taking this week, so here are a few Valentine's memories:

Last February, I blogged about it.

Two years ago, Clara and Trevi worked together:

Three years ago, Clara made these beauties:

And four years ago, I was a really awesome crafty baker wife:

I didn't take any pics of Clara and Trevi's card creations this year, but I will capture some love tomorrow. Maybe even bake some cookies.....

Coconut Milk

I had to run to the grocery store after school today to get the last of five "Secret Valentine" gifts. Why, oh why do I sign up for these things? This particular week has been completely devoid of time and money. So, my poor SV is now the proud owner of everything that my regift bin had to offer. Nice, useful regifts, mind you. But still...

I figured that for the final shebang, I should give my Valentine something picked out just for her (especially since the last remaining item in the regift bin is a Nine West purse – a bit over the top for Secret Valentine) Which brings me back to the grocery store.

It was a pretty typical trip to the store. The kids were having a no holds barred annoy-each-other contest, and I was tempted to attach each of them to a few dozen heart-shaped mylar balloons, in the hopes that they would float off to opposite corners of the store.

Instead, I steered clear of all of the helium canisters and headed to aisle six to get some pasta. Trevi happened to notice a can of cream of coconut, which prompted the following question:

"Mummy, do they have cows in Hawaii, or does everyone just drink coconut milk?"

Pinkcakes

Are all kids this nuts about food coloring?? These two will swear that pink pancakes taste better than beige ones.

Electrograbber

We have a grabber thing, which was a gift from Larisa waayyyy back when I was expecting Clara. The grabber helps you grab things that you can't reach. Since Clara was 10 pounds of baby and I was supplying her with ample padding, the grabber was a handy little thing to have. It's great to not need to bend over, when you fear you might not make it back up. Little did we know then, the grabber has even more post-pregnancy value. You see, kids like to stick things under and behind other things. The grabber has, over the years, rescued our entire magnet collection from under the fridge. Our coasters would have become one with the dust bunnies by now, if not for the under-couch reach of the grabber. And, when used in conjunction with a flashlight, even the gap between the washer and dryer is doable.

We don't always let Trevor play with the grabber, because he can be a bit destructive, but today he needed to get Clara's brush, which he had hidden behind the armchair. Before I knew what was happening, he'd renamed it, "The Electrograbber", and had made up a song about it.

The Barbie dog got involved soon afterward. Poochy was just the right shape to be grabbed, and naturally this meant that she was destined to end up in all of the great spots that are normally out of Trevor's reach.
So, if you ever come to our house and find a dog in the apple basket, or a maraca on top of the medicine cabinet, it was Trevor.

Radiohead

While I was making dinner, I kept hearing wild giggling from Trevor's room. As I listened more closely, I also heard the unmistakable sound of a radio dial being, well, dialed, from station to station. I don't know why Clara and Trevi found this so hilarious, but, for some reason, they just loved moving rapidly from one style of music to another – Jazz to Rock to Banda to some crooner crooning something. The kids go nuts for the latter. They call it "Kissing Music".
Naturally, there was dancing involved, but I didn't stay to watch. It was fun just to listen.

Helen's Big Night

Second Graders at our school put on a big production every year, called the Patriotic Performance. The kids say a few lines each, as their Famous American of choice, and the whole 120 of them sing plenty of songs to keep the parents misty-eyed throughout. I'll be the first to admit that I tend to be a bit of an eye-roller when it comes to this sort of thing. But you know, the new administration has changed me. I can actually listen to "Proud to be an American" without gagging. November 4th was life-altering for me.

Clara was a dazzling Helen Keller, and we beamed with pride. She stepped right up to the microphone, finger-spelled "hello", and then said, "I'm Helen Keller. I lost my senses of sight and hearing when I was a baby. When I got older, I showed many people that you can do great things, even if you're blind and deaf."

Despite the obvious lack of visual and hearing impairment, she was certainly convincing in appearance. The Mrs. Claus costume we borrowed from a neighbor could not have been more perfect, and it was complimented by a white dress that I never let Clara wear because it sags open in the front. Add black shoes, black stockings, a big hair bow, and Voila!
Since I couldn't seem to keep Trevor from sneaking into the background of every shot, I finally let him pose with the star.
She's even moved up the food chain from last year's role as Mother Pig! You did an amazing job, Honeybun!

No Questions

I had one of those days. Not a bad day, really, but just hectic – full of little nuisances that filled in the gaps between responsibilities. The gaps that allow me luxuries like eating, breathing, and peeing. By the time I got home, I wasn't going to be of much use to anyone. I couldn't bring myself to nag Clara about her homework. I didn't want to cook or clean or fold anything. And I couldn't deal with questions. Trevor's questions, I must say, are truly awesome. He blows my mind on a regular basis. He really thinks. Case in point: As we were listening to the radio a few weeks ago, Clara's favorite John Mayer song, "Waiting on the World to Change" came on. Clara said, "I love this song, but I don't like 'Gravity'." Without missing a beat, Trevor said, "Why not? Do you think it would be better to just float around, instead of being stuck to the ground?"

See what I mean? Thinking boy.

I have listened to, and pondered forty-seven thousand of Trevi's deep thoughts. But today, I just needed to not hear about the latest invention, or attempt to follow the convoluted tale of the day's happenings at preschool, or answer any questions whatsoever. I just couldn't do it. My head was as full as my bladder. So I said, "Manny, I just need some time with no questions. Why don't you go and play for a few hours, I mean, minutes?"

After I'd finished staring into space, here's where I found him:
At first, I thought that he was (bizarrely) asleep. Then, he opened his eyes. He said, "Hey, Mummy! I don't have any more questions to ask you, because I asked the pliano bench."
Which begs the question: Should I feel sad or relieved that I can be replaced by a bench?

String Theory

It wasn't even a rainy day, but Trevor got his hands on a ball of yarn that was lying around and he decided to "connect all of the different rooms in the house".

He started with some furniture-connecting in the living room.

Clara joined in, and the kitchen-to-hall connection proved limbo-worthy.

Then, as all things do with Trevor, the yarn turned into an invention: the "Automatic Lightswitch Operator".

As this activity neared the hour mark, Trevi suddenly started tidying up. I asked him if he was done connecting rooms, and he laughed and said, "Well, Mummy, I just realized that I don't need this string at all! The rooms are already connected by the floor!"