Happy New Year!

Sorry it has been so long since I have posted an entry ... Christmas was chaotic but fun (well, except for Xavier's asthma, which was an uninvited visitor.) We saw my parents, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my niece on Christmas Eve, and that was really nice ... my parents stayed on through Christmas, and we had a wonderful time, though we were disappointed to get no snow (well, my parents probably weren't, but I was.) The kids have been asking Adam every morning, "Can we build a snowman today?" They seem to be missing the point.

Anyway, it is New Year's Eve, and Xavier's asthma is behind us for the moment. We will be spending the evening with my next-door neighbors, which should be a good time. But the part of 2007 that the kids are looking forward to with the most anticipation is ... Shrek the Third. (That and the Transformer's Movie, but there is no chance Xavier is going to get to see that movie this year, no matter how much he begs.) We saw the trailer for Shrek the Third for the first time on Friday night, and approximately six million times since then. Xav and Gwen can quote lines from that movie on queue (in fact, even though they can't read, they recite the opening lines as they watch the preview from memory.)

I had no idea how ingrained this movie was in their little brains until 1:30 this morning, when Xavier burst into my bedroom, Bear in hand, and climbed into my bed. Before Adam could even get out of bed this time, Xavier had already pulled the covers up over himself, closed his eyes, and started playing with Bear's tag (always a precursor to sleep for him.) I got him up and walked him drowsily to the bathroom. He sleepily put Bear on the counter, put the lid up, and started doing his thing. Midstream, he turned his face toward me, suddenly alert, and said, "Mom, do you remember in Shrek the Third how, when Shrek put Puss in Boots out of his bed, Puss made a face that looks like this ..." and he put on the expression Puss in Boots always puts on when he is trying to manipulate people, the big-eyed-poor-cat look. (I still wouldn't let him come back to bed with me.)

It is going to be a long time until May when Shrek the Third comes out. Maybe in the meantime, they will concede to watch the first two movies, which until now they have deemed "too scary."

Well, we're off to Office Max to get supplies we need to finish our holiday letters. We hope you have a wonderful New Year and that 2007 is wonderful -- and funny -- for you and yours. I'm sure it will be funny (at least) for us.

When Worlds Collide

This morning, Xavier was playing with his Thomas the Tank Engine trains (specifically, his collection of Percys.) When Adam came in to check on him, though, he had put his Thomas the Tank Engine trains away, and had pulled out a wooden train he had bought at a local arts and crafts fair. He told Adam, "These are the new trains Sir Topham Hatt bought for the Island of Sodor." (For those unfamiliar with the Thomas the Tank Engine series, Sir Topham Hatt runs the railways.)

Adam asked, "Really? What happened to the other ones?"

Xavier replied, "Transformers came to the island of Sodor and crushed them all!"

Maybe we should cut back on the Calvin and Hobbes at bedtime ...

Transformer Trauma

The kids' Karate instructor asked them today what they wanted for for Christmas. Gwen mentioned that she wanted a metal detector (National Geographic makes one for kids), and Xavier said he didn't know. The Instructor said, "I bet you have Transformers on your list!" Xavier is always bringing Transformers to karate class to show "Constructor Hoy."

As Xavier nodded, "Constructor Hoy" said, "You know, when I was about Gwen's age, I loved Transformers, too. I used to have one that was about this tall ..." indicating a height of about a foot "... that looked like a Jet Plane --"

"Was it JetFire?" Xavier interrupted excitedly.

"Yes, it was," the karate teacher continued. "It was really cool, but guess what happened? When I went off to the Air Force, I left my Transformers at home, and when I got back, I found out that my mother had given them all away."

Just then, the teenaged students arrived for the Youth Class, and I needed to hurry the kids home so I could get ready for the adult class, so I loaded them into the car. Evidently Xavier was more affected by the teacher's story than I knew, because as we were driving home, Xavier asked, "Mommy, why did Constructor Hoy's mother give away his Transformers?"

Me: "Well, honey, he was a grown up and I guess she thought he didn't want them anymore."

Xav: "But why?"

Me: "Well, sometimes parents do that -- they throw things away that their kids don't need anymore."

Xav: "SHE THREW THEM AWAY?!?!"

Me (quickly): "No, no -- she gave them away."

Xav: "Can I have them?"

Me: "No, someone else already has them."

Xav: "Constructor Hoy's daughters?"

Me: "No, I don't think so. Constr- I mean, Instructor Hoy has a brother and a nephew -- maybe one of them got them."

He fell silent for a few moments, then asked, "Can we go visit Constructor Hoy's brother and nephew so we can play with his Transformers?"

A Star is Born

Our church Christmas Pageant was on Sunday. I was the stage manager, and we have been rehearsing every Wednesday since November 1st. This was the first year Gwen has actually managed to be in the play (when she was three, she didn't get it -- thought we were playing a creative game, kept trying to steer the plot in a different direction; last year she was supposed to be in the angel choir, but got sick at the last minute), and it was supposed to be Xavier's first year as well ... but more on that later.

I have to admit, I was a tad concerned about the play this year. The kids, though good-hearted, were a little distractable at times (but, hey! What do I expect? They're kids!) and I think we are going through one of those cyclical transition times where most of the kids who participated last year are now too old (fifth grade is the cutoff, although we snuck a couple of sixth graders in to fill the roster), and most of the remaining kids are not yet at an age where they can read. Still, we worked hard, had ambitious rehearsals, and I worked with one boy to try to get the props and costumes ready to go (Daniel, I know stagehand is a thankless job and you probably don't read this BLOG anyway, but you were a big help.)

The big day arrived. Gwen had had a cold all week and was blowing her nose constantly, so I was just waiting for her to get a fever (she didn't, but if she had, I would have had to give her Tylenol and sent her out, because she had a speaking part and Daniel -- understudy as well as stagehand -- would have been awkward in a female role.) We arrived an hour and a half early to help get things set up (angels in their costumes, etc., props downstairs.) Xavier -- who had originally been a shepherd, but was now in the angel choir -- decided he wanted to help me, so I let him carry down a turban and a pink tunic that the main character (Leon) was supposed to wear in succession during a rapid costume change scene.

Of course, since we told the kids to all be there at least an hour early and we could not have them wandering around the sanctuary, we ended up dragging them into the choir room to do a few last minute checks on the songs. Xavier soon lost interest and started flirting with the piano player. I glanced over at Gwen and saw she was really pale. I went over to her and asked, "Honey, are you all right?"

"I don't think I'm going to do a very good job in the play, Mom," she whispered.

"You'll do great!" I assured her.

Soon it was time for the kids to line up to go into the sanctuary. After I got them lined up and started them down the aisle, I raced around back stage to get ready to cue anyone who needed help with their lines. As Daniel and I did a last minute check on the props, I suddenly realized something was missing ... that pink tunic and the turban! And I needed them after the second song! Where could they be?

Then I remembered ... Xavier had brought them into the sanctuary; they were probably still sitting on the pew where he left them, and Lord only knew where that was. Groan ...

Well, the first song was ending, so we weren't likely to get a chance to go running through the audience looking for the tunic and the turban. So, I came up with Plan B: use a tunic he would be wearing later as a turban, and instead of the pink tunic, have him wear one of the angel halos (he was supposed to be trying out for the part of an angel in a Christmas pageant, so this would work.)

With a sigh of relief, I peered back as the kids were singing the last verse of the first song, and I realized something else was missing ... Xavier! Now, I could leave a pink tunic in the audience, but a four-year-old boy running loose was something else. This time, I did chance peering out ... Whew! Adam was sitting next to the aisle near the front, with a lapful of squirming Xavier (Adam told me later that Xavier left the line as the kids had filed up the aisle and told him, "Mom said I should sit with you.")

First scene done, second song done, now "Leon" is going through his quick costume change sequence. As he headed out with the halo on instead of the pink tunic, and I saw Gwen watch him approach with her mouth wide in a surprised smile, and I suddenly remembered: Gwen's cue is when Leon walks on stage in the pink tunic, and now there was no pink tunic! What would she do?

She hesitated for only a second, then cried, "Leon, what are you doing here? This is the Angel Tryouts!" She made her cue -- as she made all her cues for the rest of the play -- and the rest, as they say, is history.

We are extremely proud of Gwen -- she was the youngest child with a speaking part, and while it was a small part, she did it with gusto and vim. She memorized her lines (she had to -- she can't read that well), and she spoke loudly (necessary, because we didn't have enough microphones for all the kids.) She didn't always -- or often -- get the choreography right, but, hey, she can't help it -- she is related to me.

Still, we had to temper our parental pride, because she was EXTREMELY proud of herself as well. When she announced during our Monday morning phone call, "I can't wait to tell my kindergarten teacher that I was the best star in the whole play!" we had to have a little chat about humility.

But, Lord, it's hard to be humble when you're perfect -- or almost perfect -- in every way. Or, if not perfect, at least when you're five years old.

Oh, Christmas Tree ...

First, an update: Gwen did not go to the doctor today, but she has an appointment on the 21st to talk about her throwing up issues. When Adam called and started with, "We are concerned that our daughter has been sick so much in the past nine weeks," the nurse immediately headed him off with, "Did your daughter start kindergarten this year?" Evidently, getting sick a lot is pretty common amongst kindergarteners as they adjust to a new cesspool. Anyway, she didn't have a fever (Gwen, I mean, not the nurse. Well, probably neither of them had fevers), and the nurse felt that one incident of throwing up is not worthy of an emergency visit. So ... the 21st. And she does seem fine today, so maybe it was just one of those things (that we will hopefully learn more about ... on the 21st.)

Anyway, we will now join our originally scheduled BLOG with ...

Gwen had an elevated temperature for most of the weekend (coming down with a cold, evidently.) Aside from a small spike on Friday night, it never seemed to rise into the fever range, but between that and the excitement of Xavier's birthday, and having Nana and Papoo down, she was a little wiped out on Sunday afternoon (plus both kids were suffering a little from post-party and post-grandparent let-down.) To try to cheer them up, I suggested that we run out to Lowe's to look for a nice artificial tree.

Now, I have to admit, it was with severe reservations that I suggested to Adam that we break from (our) tradition and get an artificial tree. In our town, a live tree is the environmentally and community friendly choice: there are a number of Christmas tree farms around (I can think of three off the top of my head), so it is good for the local economy; live trees produce oxygen while they are growing and are a replenished resource; and our town collects the trees after Christmas, turns them into mulch, then gives the mulch away for free to whoever is willing to haul it away. On the other hand, I have a daughter with allergies and a son with asthma, and I don't have time to sweep needles more than once a week. I found myself telling other family members apologetically that we were making the transition, and they all looked at me like I was crazy and said, "We already have an artificial tree."

Anyway, the kids were not psyched about going on this errand, but luckily they are smaller than we are, so we have strength and physical mass on our side. We got to Lowe's and headed straight for the Christmas tree section.

Now, I had already checked out artificial trees at Target when getting party favors Saturday morning, and I found myself facing the same dilemma at Lowe's that I faced at Target: none of the green Christmas trees looked realistic at all to me, and I could not get excited about any of them. There was, however, one white tree with white lights. Although there is nothing remotely realistic about a white tree, this one was better shaped than some of the green trees (and cheaper than a lot of the green trees), and it was also quite pretty with irridescent needles interspersed amongst the white ones to give it a crystaline look. I have to admit, I favored it myself, but I knew that Adam would hate it.

Of course, since I had the kids with me, there was no way we were going home without a tree. I walked with Gwen over to the section with the green trees I disliked the least, and asked her, "Which tree do you like, Gwen?"

Without hesitation, she said, "The white one."

I looked back at Adam, who immediately said, "I would prefer a green one."

I steered Gwen over to another section of trees, hoping to distract her, but when I questioned her again, she persisted: "I want the white one."

I glanced back at Adam, who was trying to balance Xavier (aka the Wiggler) on his shoulders. "I think Daddy would prefer a green one, sweetie. Which of the green trees do you like best? Do you like gold lights or colored lights?"

Gwen looked up at me, her cheeks red, lips pouted, and tears brimming in her eyes ...

So, the white tree actually looks quite nice in our living room. Having come to terms with the fact that it is frankly fake, even Adam thinks it is nice and bright. But, perhaps most importantly, Gwen completely loves it. Her morning ritual now is:
1. Come downstairs, with groggy eyes and tousled hair;
2. Give her Daddy a hug;
3. Say, "I think I'll go look at the Christmas Tree for awhile."
4. Sit on the couch in the living room and gaze sleepily at the tree until it is time for breakfast.

I'm almost dreading taking it down after the holidays.

Now, in my defense, lest you think my child is spoiled: I do not always give in to my child when she goes all teary-eyed. But I actually prefered the white tree, and, really, I think Christmas is for children. And, okay, on Sunday I was recovering from post-birthday stress syndrome, and I was weak, weak, weak.

Nine Weeks and Counting

Groan ... it seems Gwen is sick again. We're going to take her to the doctor tomorrow and try to see what is going on. On a brighter note, we had the ducts cleaned last week, and Gwen's cough has diminished significantly. Otherwise, we are busy -- and tired -- but fine.

As you all know, we celebrated Xavier's fourth birthday this weekend. (If you are one of the folks who gasped and said, "He's four?" you aren't the only ones, and most people say it to our face.) He received in the mail today a birthday present from his Aunt Cherie and Uncle Andrew: a new Bionicle toy (Bionicles are robots made out Legos, for the less "in tune" amongst us). Now, most of the other Bionicles he has received -- well, all two of them -- have been relatively simple affairs, but this one looked pretty complicated. Xavier wanted to put it together right away, but I was busy and -- I admit it -- not really interested in putting it together, so I said, "Let's let Daddy do it when he gets home."

Gwen piped up, "I can do it -- let me try!"

I was dubious, but I didn't want to deny her a chance to try, so I handed her the directions, asked her to limit her work area to the rug in the Family Room (so we could collect all of the pieces later when she lost interest.)

She didn't lose interest.

An hour later, the Bionicle -- which is a toy rated for 7 year olds and older -- was complete. Adam and I were stunned, not only because she managed to put it together using only the directions and her brain, but she managed to stick to one task for an hour. Furthermore, she managed to do it with her little brother sitting next to her and pestering her: "Is it almost done yet? Is it almost done yet?" I'm not sure if she has a promising future ahead of her as an engineer, a promising future ahead of her as a cheuffer of young children ("Are we there yet?" is not so far from "Is it done yet?"), or if we need to get her hearing checked.

Of course, even though she devoted an hour to putting it together and has already touched every minute piece of the Bionicle, Xavier won't let her play with it, so our house still rings with the dulcet tones of kids fighting over a toy.


We had a birthday party for Xav over the weekend (Nana and Papoo came), but he is the only kid in his class with a December birthday, so I was a shoe-in for bringing the December birthday refreshments. Xavier asked for donuts, so I figured I would pick them up on the way to the daycare center from work.

I got a later start than I had intended, and as I was heading for the donut store (a Bohemian affair in this town, with hours that vary by day, I managed to convince myself that the place closed at 3:00, and I found myself going a little faster than I intended. As I forced myself to slow down, I reminded myself that if the place closed at 3:00, I certainly wouldn't make it if I got pulled over by the police.

Then I thought to myself, "If I did get pulled over, how would the officer respond when I told him I was speeding because I was in a hurry to get donuts?"

Wish us luck at the doctor tomorrow! I'm really not keen on making it an even ten weeks in a row with someone sick.