My poor mother. She has tried so hard to keep her gifts to us a secret. She carefully sent all of the kids' and Adam's stuff to me to wrap (coming from Amazon), and sent my gift to Adam. This worked well until the company she ordered my gift from called and asked for her (she doesn't live with us), then Adam, then told me that my gift was not available in the ordered color.
Well, today I was upstairs when I thought I heard the doorbell ring. I headed for the stairs when it rang again, and as I was coming down the stairs, I heard the painter (yes, we are getting more work done on the house) telling someone outside that I was around somewhere. Probably a butler would be more discrete, and less expensive, too.
Anyway, I opened the door and found two Mormon missionaries standing on the front step ... and a package.
I didn't really have time for the missionaries -- I don't have anything against the Church of Latter Day Saints, but we were late for karate -- but I listened politely as the talkative one spoke his piece and his quiet buddy nodded in agreement. As the talkative missionary wrapped things up, he said, "Would you like us to come back sometime and tell you more about our church?"
"Oh, no, thank you," I said as I leaned down to pick up the package. "I'm pretty happy as a Lutheran, with my church."
"I come in peace," a man's voice said. It sounded kind of like it had come through a megaphone, but not that loud.
I looked around, trying to figure out where that voice was coming from -- it didn't sound like it had come from the quiet missionary. The talkative missionary looked a little confused. "Um, okay. We wouldn't mind really, and, here, we have some coupons so you can get a free video about the first Christmas ..."
I shifted the package in my hand to take the offered coupon. "Uh, thanks, I --"
"This is an intergalactic emergency!"
The missionary still looked confused, but I now knew where the voice was coming from. Quickly saying goodbye to the missionaries, I stepped inside ...
... where I was immediately accosted by the kids. "It's a present!" "Is it for me?" "Do you know what it is?"
"Oh, I know what it is," I said, trying to shift the box as little as possible.
"What is it, Mom?" Xavier begged. "Give me a hint!"
"I am Buzz Lightyear, Interplanetary Space Ranger!" the box replied.
Xavier was ecstatic, Mom, for whatever it's worth. And I still haven't let him open it yet.
Gwen had strep throat last week, and it took close to three days for her fever to break. Still, she did not lay around and watch TV -- no, she worked on her Top Secret adventures that Adam gets her from Highlights magazine. The gist of these Top Secret games is that a crime has been commited in some exotic place like France, Italy, or Detroit, and you use a guidebook and some clues provided in the activity book to solve the crime.
These are probably a little advanced for Gwen, but she is doing much better at them now that she can read. If she asks Adam for help, invariably he gives her clues to try to figure it out herself. I do that, too, some of the time, but sometimes I am too busy, and I just help her find the answer.
The other night, as Xavier and I were headed out to my office Christmas Party (we were just picking up the dinners to bring home), Gwen looked up from her Top Secret du Hour, and said, "I wish I could go!"
"Oh, we won't be gone long," I assured her. "And Daddy will be staying here with you. He'll help you with your Top Secret."
She sighed and looked down at the puzzle she was working on. "I guess," she said listlessly. "He tries to help ... but he isn't very good at it."
Monday, December 17, 2007
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Gwen's turn
Gwen wanted to write something for the BLOG today. Here she is:
Today I demod at the Kempo Karate demo.I did Thai Boxing Drill 1.Xav did numchuku drill.I had to say,"As a dedicated student of the martial arts,I will live by the principles of the blackbelt excellence." Xav had to say,"Modesty: Being humble and not bragging."Xav was great.We worked very hard.
Mrs.Hoy loved it.She huged me. By: Miranda and Mandy
Today I demod at the Kempo Karate demo.I did Thai Boxing Drill 1.Xav did numchuku drill.I had to say,"As a dedicated student of the martial arts,I will live by the principles of the blackbelt excellence." Xav had to say,"Modesty: Being humble and not bragging."Xav was great.We worked very hard.
Mrs.Hoy loved it.She huged me. By: Miranda and Mandy
Birthday Demo
Xavier turned five years old today. He was still the littlest (though perhaps not the youngest) Kempo Karate student at the Kempo Karate holiday party today. Still, he and Gwen did a great job.
Last night, Xavier had an asthma attack (he is still getting over the latest in a series of colds, and the babysitter who watched him went a little heavy on the fragrance.) It was frustrating, because this cold has dragged on for a couple of weeks now, and yesterday morning I thought maybe he had turned the corner. I told Adam last night as he lay wheezing (and asleep) on our bed, "It will be a miracle if we make it to that demo tomorrow." It took me forever to get to sleep, not only because I was worried about Xav, but I really did not want have to duck out of the demo. Instructor Hoy "who is a girl" had spent a lot of time structuring the demo, and if we couldn't make it, it would take a big chunk out of it (not to mention that I hated to disappoint the kids). Also, since both Mr. and Mrs. Instructor Hoys are moving to Memphis at the end of the month, I really didn't want to be the one to "break their last demo."
Well, a miracle did happen, and Xavier's asthma had subsided by this morning. Gwen did a great Thai boxing drill #1, and Xavier (with a little help) said his line perfectly: "Modesty: being humble and not bragging." (Thankfully, he left off the part about the underwear -- see November 30th posting.)
All of the demos were excellent, but when asked at the end which demo he thought was the best, Xavier replied without hesitation, "Me."
Guess we need to work a little harder on the modesty part.
Last night, Xavier had an asthma attack (he is still getting over the latest in a series of colds, and the babysitter who watched him went a little heavy on the fragrance.) It was frustrating, because this cold has dragged on for a couple of weeks now, and yesterday morning I thought maybe he had turned the corner. I told Adam last night as he lay wheezing (and asleep) on our bed, "It will be a miracle if we make it to that demo tomorrow." It took me forever to get to sleep, not only because I was worried about Xav, but I really did not want have to duck out of the demo. Instructor Hoy "who is a girl" had spent a lot of time structuring the demo, and if we couldn't make it, it would take a big chunk out of it (not to mention that I hated to disappoint the kids). Also, since both Mr. and Mrs. Instructor Hoys are moving to Memphis at the end of the month, I really didn't want to be the one to "break their last demo."
Well, a miracle did happen, and Xavier's asthma had subsided by this morning. Gwen did a great Thai boxing drill #1, and Xavier (with a little help) said his line perfectly: "Modesty: being humble and not bragging." (Thankfully, he left off the part about the underwear -- see November 30th posting.)
All of the demos were excellent, but when asked at the end which demo he thought was the best, Xavier replied without hesitation, "Me."
Guess we need to work a little harder on the modesty part.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
It's Time .... to D-d-d-d-d-d-dual!
I think I posted sometime back that the mother of one of Xavier's (girl) friends Janey told me that Xavier had been teaching Janey how to play "Bionicles" on the playground. She thought this was cute and friendly of Xavier, until she caught Janey (an only child) watching "Bionicles" on the Saturday morning cartoons and was horrified at how violent they are. (If I didn't post this, that was the gist of it, and I'm sorry.) Before I had a son, I pooh-poohed people who remarked that boys are different from girls.
Okay, now I am saying it: Boys are different from girls.
Gwen was fixated on dinosaurs and animals; Xavier -- despite our best efforts -- is fixated on adventure, excitement, and -- yes -- violence. Bionicles are just Lego robots (we don't let him watch anything with human-against-human violence), and Transformers are not exactly cuddly teddy bears having a tea party. But after that incident, I did wish he could focus his energies on something a little less ... warlike.
Well, be careful what you wish for. Adam allowed Xavier to check out a Yu-gi-oh! DVD from the video store. At first I was relieved -- no guns! Basically, it is just about some good guys and bad guys who fight each other by ... playing cards. No one gets killed, although some people do have their minds sent to the "shadow realm." I began to turn against the Yu-gi-oh! videos, though, when I realized that it can take two hours (four half-hour episodes) to play a game. It is about as riveting and intellectually stimulating as watching static when your cable has been unplugged, although not quite as exciting.
Anyway, Xavier has become fascinated by Yu-gi-oh!, so much so that he wants that to be his birthday party theme, and he wants to play Yu-gi-oh! all the time (the card game, not the video -- he gave up Yu-gi-oh! the video in favor of his new favorite, Ratatouie). The only problem? He does not have any Yu-gi-oh! cards. But he does not let that stop him.
Whereas we used to play Bionicles in the front yard while we waited for Gwen's bus in the afternoon (and I would cringe and look around, hoping that none of the neighbors were watching, for they would surely think I was coaching a sociopath), now he wants to play Yu-gi-oh! Since we don't have real cards, we just pretend we have cards. He is an expert at imitating the mannerisms and expressions of the players in the video, not to mention a deep knowledge of the cards and the rules. The problem is, I don't watch the videos, so I don't know any of the actual cards are, so I have to make them up. A typical exchange runs something like this (and this is, in fact, one of the "duals" we had today.)
Xavier: I summon up the Magnetic Warrior, and he takes away fifteen-a-million-hundred of your life points!
Me: Um, well, I guess I lose.
Xavier: No, you didn't, Mommy -- you still have zero-zero-five points. And I place one card face down.
Me: Oh, yeah, well I summon up the, uh, Mr. Caliban card. He's a 2000/2000 creature, and he attacks your magnetic warrior. (For the less-informed out there, Caliban is our cat.)
Xavier: Ah, but now I turn over the card I had face down -- my Magnetic Warrior is fifteen-a-million-hundred times more powerful than he was before! I'm afraid he sends your Mr. Caliban card to your graveyard. (Then, prompting me) You say, "Noooo!"
Me: Ah, but I'm afraid you have triggered Mr. Caliban's secret ability he, uh ... pukes all over you and your Magnetic Warrior, so you can't attack.
Xavier: Mommy! You aren't doing this right!
These duals always end with the arrival of the bus. He's funny to watch, but I have to admit I wonder if he will be disillusioned when someone gives him a real deck.
In other news, we are getting ready to do a karate demo this Sunday. Instructor Jones-Cox and "Instructor Hoy who is a Girl" have put a lot of time into getting the kids ready. For Instructor Hoy, this is an especially bittersweet demo because she is getting ready to move to Memphis, so this probably her last one with this group. Gwen has learned Thai Boxing drill #1 in preparation, and Xavier is going to do a little (very little) numchuku number followed with one of the principles of the black belt: "Modesty: Being humble and not bwagging."
Needless to say, "Modesty: Being humble and not bragging," is getting drilled into their heads as we rehearse this at every class. Today after class, Gwen came running downstairs (in our house), and yelled, "Mommy! Look at me!" She was -- ahem -- all ready for her bath, despite my best efforts to keep her upstairs when she is in the altogether.
I said, "Hmmm, looks like modesty is not one of your virtues."
She looked confused, and said, "What does 'modesty' mean?"
Realizing the conflict, I said, "Well, 'modesty' does mean being humble and not bragging, but it also means not showing off your private parts."
Hours later, when I was at the adult class, Xavier was telling Adam all about the demo. "And I get to do this thing with the numchukus and I get to say, 'Modesty: being humble and not bwagging'!"
Gwen chimed in, "And not showing off your underwear!"
Oh, lord. This in front of the kid who has been reciting lines from movies -- verbatum -- since he was two, and who is going to do this demo in three days. I don't think I need to tell you where this is going.
I sure hope "Instructor Hoy who is a Girl" has a good sense of humor.
Okay, now I am saying it: Boys are different from girls.
Gwen was fixated on dinosaurs and animals; Xavier -- despite our best efforts -- is fixated on adventure, excitement, and -- yes -- violence. Bionicles are just Lego robots (we don't let him watch anything with human-against-human violence), and Transformers are not exactly cuddly teddy bears having a tea party. But after that incident, I did wish he could focus his energies on something a little less ... warlike.
Well, be careful what you wish for. Adam allowed Xavier to check out a Yu-gi-oh! DVD from the video store. At first I was relieved -- no guns! Basically, it is just about some good guys and bad guys who fight each other by ... playing cards. No one gets killed, although some people do have their minds sent to the "shadow realm." I began to turn against the Yu-gi-oh! videos, though, when I realized that it can take two hours (four half-hour episodes) to play a game. It is about as riveting and intellectually stimulating as watching static when your cable has been unplugged, although not quite as exciting.
Anyway, Xavier has become fascinated by Yu-gi-oh!, so much so that he wants that to be his birthday party theme, and he wants to play Yu-gi-oh! all the time (the card game, not the video -- he gave up Yu-gi-oh! the video in favor of his new favorite, Ratatouie). The only problem? He does not have any Yu-gi-oh! cards. But he does not let that stop him.
Whereas we used to play Bionicles in the front yard while we waited for Gwen's bus in the afternoon (and I would cringe and look around, hoping that none of the neighbors were watching, for they would surely think I was coaching a sociopath), now he wants to play Yu-gi-oh! Since we don't have real cards, we just pretend we have cards. He is an expert at imitating the mannerisms and expressions of the players in the video, not to mention a deep knowledge of the cards and the rules. The problem is, I don't watch the videos, so I don't know any of the actual cards are, so I have to make them up. A typical exchange runs something like this (and this is, in fact, one of the "duals" we had today.)
Xavier: I summon up the Magnetic Warrior, and he takes away fifteen-a-million-hundred of your life points!
Me: Um, well, I guess I lose.
Xavier: No, you didn't, Mommy -- you still have zero-zero-five points. And I place one card face down.
Me: Oh, yeah, well I summon up the, uh, Mr. Caliban card. He's a 2000/2000 creature, and he attacks your magnetic warrior. (For the less-informed out there, Caliban is our cat.)
Xavier: Ah, but now I turn over the card I had face down -- my Magnetic Warrior is fifteen-a-million-hundred times more powerful than he was before! I'm afraid he sends your Mr. Caliban card to your graveyard. (Then, prompting me) You say, "Noooo!"
Me: Ah, but I'm afraid you have triggered Mr. Caliban's secret ability he, uh ... pukes all over you and your Magnetic Warrior, so you can't attack.
Xavier: Mommy! You aren't doing this right!
These duals always end with the arrival of the bus. He's funny to watch, but I have to admit I wonder if he will be disillusioned when someone gives him a real deck.
In other news, we are getting ready to do a karate demo this Sunday. Instructor Jones-Cox and "Instructor Hoy who is a Girl" have put a lot of time into getting the kids ready. For Instructor Hoy, this is an especially bittersweet demo because she is getting ready to move to Memphis, so this probably her last one with this group. Gwen has learned Thai Boxing drill #1 in preparation, and Xavier is going to do a little (very little) numchuku number followed with one of the principles of the black belt: "Modesty: Being humble and not bwagging."
Needless to say, "Modesty: Being humble and not bragging," is getting drilled into their heads as we rehearse this at every class. Today after class, Gwen came running downstairs (in our house), and yelled, "Mommy! Look at me!" She was -- ahem -- all ready for her bath, despite my best efforts to keep her upstairs when she is in the altogether.
I said, "Hmmm, looks like modesty is not one of your virtues."
She looked confused, and said, "What does 'modesty' mean?"
Realizing the conflict, I said, "Well, 'modesty' does mean being humble and not bragging, but it also means not showing off your private parts."
Hours later, when I was at the adult class, Xavier was telling Adam all about the demo. "And I get to do this thing with the numchukus and I get to say, 'Modesty: being humble and not bwagging'!"
Gwen chimed in, "And not showing off your underwear!"
Oh, lord. This in front of the kid who has been reciting lines from movies -- verbatum -- since he was two, and who is going to do this demo in three days. I don't think I need to tell you where this is going.
I sure hope "Instructor Hoy who is a Girl" has a good sense of humor.
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Dummy!
This posting is not likely to win me any Parent of the Year awards ... then again, I was not a likely candidate for that anyway, so here goes ...
The other day, my husband showed me a video on YouTube.com called "Jeff Dunham -- Achmed the Dead Terrorist." Jeff Dunham is a ventriloquist, and although this sketch -- which features a skeleton dummy made up like a Terrorist -- has some bad language, it is also VERY funny. They also have some other sketches up there involving Jeff Dunham and some dummies named "Walter" and "Peanut."
OK, here's where the bad parent part comes in: I have let the kids watch some of the Jeff Dunham sketches. For that matter, I have also let them watch Shrek, which contains some humor that is less than G-rated. Most of this goes right over their heads, but they laugh anyway, because the dummies (or cartoon characters) are funny anyway. Nevertheless, every time a bad word comes on, I interject, "Bad word -- don't say this at school." "Bad word -- don't ever say this."
Tonight, as I was putting the kids to bed, Xavier recited one of the scenes from the Jeff Dunham video, that goes like this:
Walter: My wife is getting old.
Jeff Dunham (smiling): But a woman ages like a fine wine ...
Walter (disparaging look at Jeff): My wife is aging like milk.
As Xavier finished reciting this, he said, "Mommy, what does it mean that his wife ages like milk?"
"Well, Xavier, wine is supposed to improve as it gets older, and milk goes sour."
Xavier laughed, then said, "Don't say that at work, mommy!"
The other day, my husband showed me a video on YouTube.com called "Jeff Dunham -- Achmed the Dead Terrorist." Jeff Dunham is a ventriloquist, and although this sketch -- which features a skeleton dummy made up like a Terrorist -- has some bad language, it is also VERY funny. They also have some other sketches up there involving Jeff Dunham and some dummies named "Walter" and "Peanut."
OK, here's where the bad parent part comes in: I have let the kids watch some of the Jeff Dunham sketches. For that matter, I have also let them watch Shrek, which contains some humor that is less than G-rated. Most of this goes right over their heads, but they laugh anyway, because the dummies (or cartoon characters) are funny anyway. Nevertheless, every time a bad word comes on, I interject, "Bad word -- don't say this at school." "Bad word -- don't ever say this."
Tonight, as I was putting the kids to bed, Xavier recited one of the scenes from the Jeff Dunham video, that goes like this:
Walter: My wife is getting old.
Jeff Dunham (smiling): But a woman ages like a fine wine ...
Walter (disparaging look at Jeff): My wife is aging like milk.
As Xavier finished reciting this, he said, "Mommy, what does it mean that his wife ages like milk?"
"Well, Xavier, wine is supposed to improve as it gets older, and milk goes sour."
Xavier laughed, then said, "Don't say that at work, mommy!"
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Halloween!
Woo-hoo! This is the first time since the kids were old enough to trick or treat that neither of them were sick! Not to say that the day was not fraught with drama and suspense ...
First, I noted that Xavier had a watery nose this morning. We thought maybe it was associated with crying, but since he kept having intermittent crying lags, it was hard to be sure. And of course, crying can be a sign of illness ... hoo, boy. Of course, he also got a Bionicle yesterday (if you are unfamiliar with them, they are lego "robots" that have their own movie franchise); the only problem with getting Xavier Bionicles is that he can't put them together himself, and no one had time to help him this morning.
Well, when we got home from school, Xavier was dry-nosed, and Adam had taken the time this morning to assemble the Bionicle, so I breathed a sigh of relief and the afternoon went pretty smoothly until --
(Insert dramatic music here)
-- Gwen got off the bus in tears. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked.
"I lost my tail at the Halloween Party at school." (She was a black cat this year.)
Playing the part of superhero (as we moms are often called upon to do), I replied confidently, "No problem, honey -- we have time to make a new one before we go trick-or-treating tonight." As I spoke these words, a voice-over in my head was going, "How the heck are we going to do that? We don't have any fake fur. We don't have any black fabric at all! Maybe we have some black yarn?" And a third voice piped up, "Quiet in there! Don't panic! Kids can sense fear!"
I opened up her backpack and stared into the gaping maw in horror. The third voice whispered, "Okay, time to panic." Looking up with as much casualness as I could muster, I asked, "Um, Gwen, about your tail ... where is the rest of your costume?"
Her jaw dropped as tears sprang to her eyes. Inside my head, I heard, "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! We are going down!"
Racing in terror to the van. Will we get there in time before they lock the school? Get stuck behind someone who clearly has no idea where he is going, stops at a stop sign and waves everyone through, oblivious to the van behind him. Finally get away from this clown and get to school. Wait for five minutes in the principal's office for permission to go back to Gwen's classroom. Much to our collective relief, the costume and the tail are there. Back to the van. Back home.
Ten minutes after getting home, while Xavier was in the bathroom, Gwen looked up at me in tears. "What's wrong, Gwen?"
"I broke Xavier's Bionicle." Yup, sure enough, the new Bionicle was lying in her lap, and she had successfully snapped off the piece that holds one of the wings on.
"What did you say?" Xavier called from the bathroom.
Even as my temperature was plummeting -- I swear I could see my breath -- I put on the hero face again. "Well, that's okay, honey -- it's a Bionicle and we have a zillion spare parts in the lego box." Convincing Xavier of that took some more doing, but despite the drama of the moment, this crisis was relatively smoothly averted.
Face-painting time. Run around like crazy people in the front yard playing Bionicles (which, to Xavier, means running up to me, karate-chopping me in the leg, and screaming, "I killed you! You're dead!") It occurs to me that our neighbors probably think we are raising a couple of homicidal maniacs.
Then I served the kids supper. Nothing dangerous there, yet the kids were so excited that it took them an hour to finish a cup of butternut squash and a hot dog. Then Xavier announced, "How about I go trick-or-treating without my costume?" (This may sound trivial, but he refused to wear his costume -- a Bionicle -- at the school parade yesterday, and I got yelled at by his teacher for encouraging him to put it on, so this is a touchy subject with me.)
Finally came to a compromise on the costume. Got Gwen into her costume. Got Xavier to finish his supper, then into the compromise costume. We joined the group of neighbors we were trick-or-treating with at the rendevous point in the nick of time.
The trick-or-treating itself went relatively smoothly ... the calm before the storm.
I knew we were in trouble when we got home, and Gwen was no sooner through the door when she asked Adam (who stayed home, passing out treats), "Did I miss Jack?" Jack is a close friend of Gwen's who lives across Givens Lane from us. Now, she keeps reassuring us that she and Jack are "just friends", but it soon became clear that this was far from true.
Ding-dong!
Thumpthumpthump. "IsitJackisitJackisitJack?"
"No ..."
Heart-rending sigh, sometimes a few tears.
We live in a pretty high-density neighborhood, so this tableau played itself over and over again, until it was time for Gwen to go to bed. There were many tears at this point, and it was only with the promise that, should Jack come, we would get her out of bed, and if he didn't, she could take him some candy at school tomorrow.
Two minutes after the kids were in bed, the doorbell rang. As I headed down the hall toward the door I see -- to my deepest relief -- Jack, attempting to look through the window. "Gwen! Jack is here!"
I opened the door and Jack sauntered in as Gwen's door slammed open upstairs.
Gwen came running down the stairs. "Jack! Jack! Jack!"
Xavier was right behind her. "Jack! Jack! Jack!" (He has never met Jack before.)
Gwen threw her arms around Jack, pinning his arms to his side. Jack was accompanied by another boy about his age and a girl who appeared to be a little older. The other boy also followed him in, but the girl stood on the step with a long-suffering expression on her face. Turning to a car parked in front of our house with parent-types in it, she calls, "Just a minute -- Jack's in there with his lover." I gave her some extra candy, but nothing could wipe that look of tired endurance from her face.
Jack emerged, and Gwen leaned out the door and blew him a kiss as he disappeared into the darkness. Yeah, she plays it close to the vest, that one.
Adam and I sat down to dinner. I said, "Wow, I'm glad he got here before she fell asleep."
Adam replied, "Hell, I'm just glad he got here!"
All was quiet for about twenty minutes, then the doorbell rang again. I went to answer it, and there was a toddler dressed like Tinkerbell on the step. I was leaning down to give her some candy, when I heard a rhythmic thump! thump! thump! behind me. Was it some grave horror coming through my house? Was it the beating of my heart?
No. "Let me do it, Mommy," Xavier said, taking the candy from me.
Just when you thought it was safe to get out of the water.
First, I noted that Xavier had a watery nose this morning. We thought maybe it was associated with crying, but since he kept having intermittent crying lags, it was hard to be sure. And of course, crying can be a sign of illness ... hoo, boy. Of course, he also got a Bionicle yesterday (if you are unfamiliar with them, they are lego "robots" that have their own movie franchise); the only problem with getting Xavier Bionicles is that he can't put them together himself, and no one had time to help him this morning.
Well, when we got home from school, Xavier was dry-nosed, and Adam had taken the time this morning to assemble the Bionicle, so I breathed a sigh of relief and the afternoon went pretty smoothly until --
(Insert dramatic music here)
-- Gwen got off the bus in tears. "What's wrong, honey?" I asked.
"I lost my tail at the Halloween Party at school." (She was a black cat this year.)
Playing the part of superhero (as we moms are often called upon to do), I replied confidently, "No problem, honey -- we have time to make a new one before we go trick-or-treating tonight." As I spoke these words, a voice-over in my head was going, "How the heck are we going to do that? We don't have any fake fur. We don't have any black fabric at all! Maybe we have some black yarn?" And a third voice piped up, "Quiet in there! Don't panic! Kids can sense fear!"
I opened up her backpack and stared into the gaping maw in horror. The third voice whispered, "Okay, time to panic." Looking up with as much casualness as I could muster, I asked, "Um, Gwen, about your tail ... where is the rest of your costume?"
Her jaw dropped as tears sprang to her eyes. Inside my head, I heard, "Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! We are going down!"
Racing in terror to the van. Will we get there in time before they lock the school? Get stuck behind someone who clearly has no idea where he is going, stops at a stop sign and waves everyone through, oblivious to the van behind him. Finally get away from this clown and get to school. Wait for five minutes in the principal's office for permission to go back to Gwen's classroom. Much to our collective relief, the costume and the tail are there. Back to the van. Back home.
Ten minutes after getting home, while Xavier was in the bathroom, Gwen looked up at me in tears. "What's wrong, Gwen?"
"I broke Xavier's Bionicle." Yup, sure enough, the new Bionicle was lying in her lap, and she had successfully snapped off the piece that holds one of the wings on.
"What did you say?" Xavier called from the bathroom.
Even as my temperature was plummeting -- I swear I could see my breath -- I put on the hero face again. "Well, that's okay, honey -- it's a Bionicle and we have a zillion spare parts in the lego box." Convincing Xavier of that took some more doing, but despite the drama of the moment, this crisis was relatively smoothly averted.
Face-painting time. Run around like crazy people in the front yard playing Bionicles (which, to Xavier, means running up to me, karate-chopping me in the leg, and screaming, "I killed you! You're dead!") It occurs to me that our neighbors probably think we are raising a couple of homicidal maniacs.
Then I served the kids supper. Nothing dangerous there, yet the kids were so excited that it took them an hour to finish a cup of butternut squash and a hot dog. Then Xavier announced, "How about I go trick-or-treating without my costume?" (This may sound trivial, but he refused to wear his costume -- a Bionicle -- at the school parade yesterday, and I got yelled at by his teacher for encouraging him to put it on, so this is a touchy subject with me.)
Finally came to a compromise on the costume. Got Gwen into her costume. Got Xavier to finish his supper, then into the compromise costume. We joined the group of neighbors we were trick-or-treating with at the rendevous point in the nick of time.
The trick-or-treating itself went relatively smoothly ... the calm before the storm.
I knew we were in trouble when we got home, and Gwen was no sooner through the door when she asked Adam (who stayed home, passing out treats), "Did I miss Jack?" Jack is a close friend of Gwen's who lives across Givens Lane from us. Now, she keeps reassuring us that she and Jack are "just friends", but it soon became clear that this was far from true.
Ding-dong!
Thumpthumpthump. "IsitJackisitJackisitJack?"
"No ..."
Heart-rending sigh, sometimes a few tears.
We live in a pretty high-density neighborhood, so this tableau played itself over and over again, until it was time for Gwen to go to bed. There were many tears at this point, and it was only with the promise that, should Jack come, we would get her out of bed, and if he didn't, she could take him some candy at school tomorrow.
Two minutes after the kids were in bed, the doorbell rang. As I headed down the hall toward the door I see -- to my deepest relief -- Jack, attempting to look through the window. "Gwen! Jack is here!"
I opened the door and Jack sauntered in as Gwen's door slammed open upstairs.
Gwen came running down the stairs. "Jack! Jack! Jack!"
Xavier was right behind her. "Jack! Jack! Jack!" (He has never met Jack before.)
Gwen threw her arms around Jack, pinning his arms to his side. Jack was accompanied by another boy about his age and a girl who appeared to be a little older. The other boy also followed him in, but the girl stood on the step with a long-suffering expression on her face. Turning to a car parked in front of our house with parent-types in it, she calls, "Just a minute -- Jack's in there with his lover." I gave her some extra candy, but nothing could wipe that look of tired endurance from her face.
Jack emerged, and Gwen leaned out the door and blew him a kiss as he disappeared into the darkness. Yeah, she plays it close to the vest, that one.
Adam and I sat down to dinner. I said, "Wow, I'm glad he got here before she fell asleep."
Adam replied, "Hell, I'm just glad he got here!"
All was quiet for about twenty minutes, then the doorbell rang again. I went to answer it, and there was a toddler dressed like Tinkerbell on the step. I was leaning down to give her some candy, when I heard a rhythmic thump! thump! thump! behind me. Was it some grave horror coming through my house? Was it the beating of my heart?
No. "Let me do it, Mommy," Xavier said, taking the candy from me.
Just when you thought it was safe to get out of the water.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Another Public Service Announcement (and a story)
Business first.
If you live in my town (and you know if you do) then
if you are familiar with a certain toy store on South Main then
if you have been thinking about buying FLEX furniture from them then
BUY NO LATER THAN TOMORROW;
end if; end if; end if;
(Sorry, a little PL/SQL humor there.)
The gist of it is, Adam and I have been toying around for some time with the idea of getting Gwen a bunk bed, moving her bed (my old bed) to the guest room, and moving the little-used blue sofa bed in the guest room down to the living room to replace our much-abused green sofa bed. We have been delaying this action for awhile because bunk beds are not cheap (especially FLEX beds, because they are solid wood -- well, except for the mattress -- and we are trying to avoid particle board). Also, for whatever reason, the blue couch latches onto cat hair like a covalent bond, so we thought we'd postpone the weekly sofa-vacuuming sessions. Alas, Xavier's recent bout of illness made the green couch even less appealing, and the toy store will stop selling FLEX at the end of November (FLEX is becoming exclusive), so I bullied Adam into letting me go ahead.
When I got there today, the first thing the salesgirl asked the manager was, "When do the new prices go into effect?" The answer is November 1st, and the rates are going up 25%. So if you have been thinking, "We'll buy that new at the end of the year," think again. Not only will FLEX be gone, if it is still there when you go, it will be a lot more expensive. So buy now!
And someone told me recently I shouldn't be in sales. :)
Now for pleasure.
So, we went to the toy store today to order a bunk bed for Gwen. Of course, buying a new bunk bed, we have to buy (two) new mattresses, and even though Adam and I bought the best mattresses we could for Gwen's (current) bed and Xavier's bed, we've gotten lazy in our old age, so we decided to order the mattresses from FLEX as well, provided that Gwen liked the one on the floor model of the bed.
Well, as it turns out, the floor model was not a mere bunk bed -- it was a bells-and-whistles bed. You know what I'm talking about: elevated bed with the "castle playhouse" underneath, pink "castle-themed" curtain at the top of the ladder, and another on the -- get this -- slide to the floor. It didn't take much persuading to get Gwen to climb on up and try out that mattress!
As we were driving home, Gwen said, "Did you order my bed?"
"Yes, ma'am. And the mattresses are going to be pink." (For whatever that is worth, since they'll be encased in a mattress cover and sheets.)
"Is it going to be like the bed at the store?"
"Nope, just a bunk bed."
Gwen sighed. "I wish it was going to be like the one at the store."
"Gwen, we weren't buying you a playground, we were buying you a bed."
Another sigh. "I know." Then, hopefully, "Will it have a ladder?"
"Yes."
"What else?"
"Roll-out drawers underneath."
"What else?"
"Um, nothing else. Isn't that enough?"
"Oh." Disappointed pause. "I kind of hoped it would have a slide."
"Gwen, you are going to have this bed until you're a teenager. When you are a teenager, you are not going to want a bed with a slide when you are seventeen."
So we went home. Adam comes home.
"So, Gwen," he said. "I hear you got a bed today."
"It doesn't have a slide," she sighed.
"A slide?" he laughed. "Gwen, we were getting you a bed, not a playground."
"I know. That's what Mommy told me."
Xavier's school had it's Hallowe'en Party today. I happened to overhear two mothers (of younger children) talking in the hall when I was picking Xav up on Friday, and I heard one of them say, "Ryan wants to be Thomas the Tank Engine. In a way, I was so relieved he changed his mind from being a ballerina, but now I need to find a Thomas costume."
Hearing opportunity knocking, and being the proud owner of a Thomas the Tank Engine costume that was gathering dust on Xavier's closet floor, I approached the mother. We exchanged numbers, and twenty-four hours later she was the proud owner of a lightly-used Thomas costume, and I was the proud owner of a clean closet.
As Adam walked Xavier into school today, they saw the mother walking in with her son and (admittedly cumbersome) Thomas the Tank Engine costume. Xavier perked up a little and said, "There's the costume that was my Thomas the Tank Engine costume, but I gave it away because it shrank."
Amused, Adam said, "It didn't shrink, honey. You've grown."
"No, it's shrinking," Xavier insisted. "It's getting smaller and smaller. Soon it will be the size of a pea."
After a moment, he added, "I mean, like a vegetable pea."
If you live in my town (and you know if you do) then
if you are familiar with a certain toy store on South Main then
if you have been thinking about buying FLEX furniture from them then
BUY NO LATER THAN TOMORROW;
end if; end if; end if;
(Sorry, a little PL/SQL humor there.)
The gist of it is, Adam and I have been toying around for some time with the idea of getting Gwen a bunk bed, moving her bed (my old bed) to the guest room, and moving the little-used blue sofa bed in the guest room down to the living room to replace our much-abused green sofa bed. We have been delaying this action for awhile because bunk beds are not cheap (especially FLEX beds, because they are solid wood -- well, except for the mattress -- and we are trying to avoid particle board). Also, for whatever reason, the blue couch latches onto cat hair like a covalent bond, so we thought we'd postpone the weekly sofa-vacuuming sessions. Alas, Xavier's recent bout of illness made the green couch even less appealing, and the toy store will stop selling FLEX at the end of November (FLEX is becoming exclusive), so I bullied Adam into letting me go ahead.
When I got there today, the first thing the salesgirl asked the manager was, "When do the new prices go into effect?" The answer is November 1st, and the rates are going up 25%. So if you have been thinking, "We'll buy that new
And someone told me recently I shouldn't be in sales. :)
Now for pleasure.
So, we went to the toy store today to order a bunk bed for Gwen. Of course, buying a new bunk bed, we have to buy (two) new mattresses, and even though Adam and I bought the best mattresses we could for Gwen's (current) bed and Xavier's bed, we've gotten lazy in our old age, so we decided to order the mattresses from FLEX as well, provided that Gwen liked the one on the floor model of the bed.
Well, as it turns out, the floor model was not a mere bunk bed -- it was a bells-and-whistles bed. You know what I'm talking about: elevated bed with the "castle playhouse" underneath, pink "castle-themed" curtain at the top of the ladder, and another on the -- get this -- slide to the floor. It didn't take much persuading to get Gwen to climb on up and try out that mattress!
As we were driving home, Gwen said, "Did you order my bed?"
"Yes, ma'am. And the mattresses are going to be pink." (For whatever that is worth, since they'll be encased in a mattress cover and sheets.)
"Is it going to be like the bed at the store?"
"Nope, just a bunk bed."
Gwen sighed. "I wish it was going to be like the one at the store."
"Gwen, we weren't buying you a playground, we were buying you a bed."
Another sigh. "I know." Then, hopefully, "Will it have a ladder?"
"Yes."
"What else?"
"Roll-out drawers underneath."
"What else?"
"Um, nothing else. Isn't that enough?"
"Oh." Disappointed pause. "I kind of hoped it would have a slide."
"Gwen, you are going to have this bed until you're a teenager. When you are a teenager, you are not going to want a bed with a slide when you are seventeen."
So we went home. Adam comes home.
"So, Gwen," he said. "I hear you got a bed today."
"It doesn't have a slide," she sighed.
"A slide?" he laughed. "Gwen, we were getting you a bed, not a playground."
"I know. That's what Mommy told me."
Xavier's school had it's Hallowe'en Party today. I happened to overhear two mothers (of younger children) talking in the hall when I was picking Xav up on Friday, and I heard one of them say, "Ryan wants to be Thomas the Tank Engine. In a way, I was so relieved he changed his mind from being a ballerina, but now I need to find a Thomas costume."
Hearing opportunity knocking, and being the proud owner of a Thomas the Tank Engine costume that was gathering dust on Xavier's closet floor, I approached the mother. We exchanged numbers, and twenty-four hours later she was the proud owner of a lightly-used Thomas costume, and I was the proud owner of a clean closet.
As Adam walked Xavier into school today, they saw the mother walking in with her son and (admittedly cumbersome) Thomas the Tank Engine costume. Xavier perked up a little and said, "There's the costume that was my Thomas the Tank Engine costume, but I gave it away because it shrank."
Amused, Adam said, "It didn't shrink, honey. You've grown."
"No, it's shrinking," Xavier insisted. "It's getting smaller and smaller. Soon it will be the size of a pea."
After a moment, he added, "I mean, like a vegetable pea."
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Halloween Kempo and Other News
Yes, I have been incredibly busy this month. I apologize for neglecting the BLOG!
First order of business ... last night the kids tested and passed their second rank (belt) test in Universal Kempo Karate. I was a little worried about Xavier at first because he was really cranky when I dropped him off for the test (he fell asleep on the way over.) Professor Ragone, the regional Universal Kempo dude, offered Xavier his hand, and told him everything was going to be okay (mistaking his sad demeanor for nerves instead of grumpiness). Parents are not permitted to watch the exam, so I got to watch a bunch of stranger's kids going through their karate lessons instead, but Professor Ragone came out and assured me that Xavier was all smiles, back to his normal self. Of course, that meant I now had something else to worry about ...
Anyway, by the end, Xavier had clearly warmed to Professor Ragone, because as the kids came around the barricade for the promotion ceremony, Xavier held up his water bottle and shouted to Professor Ragone, "Look how big my bottle is! It's the biggest bottle in the world!"
I don't know if we'll be able to bring him back there for his next test -- it is clear he has lost all fear of authority.
Anyway, if you were wondering about the title of this entry, the belt color for PeeWee second rank is Orange. With the karate outfit for Universal Kempo Karate being black, and the month being October ... well, you can draw your own conclusions. Kempo tradition dictates that you may not wear your belt outside of class, so I guess I can't take advantage of the situation and let the kids just wear their karate uniforms trick or treating ... as if the kids would let me.
In other news, we had our first parent-teacher conference of the year with Gwen's teacher. Spoiler alert -- this is a bragging paragraph. You can skip it if you are not up for that. Gwen is reading at the Second grade/Five month level (not bad for First grade/Second month status.) The teacher says she is almost certainly going to recommend Gwen for the Gifted and Talented program (she says her real question at this point is why Gwen was not recommended last year.)
She added that Gwen was a real darling to work with. She said she is friendly to many of the kids, but she also spends a lot of time talking to the teachers at recess, for "more mature" conversation. The teacher related a story of one time when she was sitting with the other teachers at the picnic table, watching the kids at recess, when Gwen ran up and shouted excitedly, "Mrs. White! Have you read the latest National Geographic? They have an article in there all about how they can make fuel for cars out of corn!"
We also read part of Gwen's daily journal. The teacher explained that at the beginning of the day, the kids get to write a paragraph on any topic they want, and draw a picture to go along with it. As we read through Gwen's journal, we started noticing a theme. The entries went something like this:
"Today my baby ladybugs looked like they were starting to make their chrysalises, but I was wrong. I have karate. I will be good."
"We have a field trip today to the library. It will be a good day. I will be good."
"The ladybugs came out of their chrysalises today. They are pink. I will be good. I am so happy!"
After several entries like this, the teacher remarked, "Hmmm, I never noticed before that she always says she will be good." As we read a little further, she murmured, "Hmm, maybe I should show this to some of the other kids -- might give them ideas." By the end, she was saying, "I don't know what her interest is in being good, but I like her attitude -- I think I will share this with the other kids ..."
But, mostly, she is impressed with what a gifted student Gwen is. This is a tad ironic in light of the fact that today Gwen forgot I was picking her up at school today (because of the timing of the conference), and we only managed to get her off the bus in the nick of time.
Jilian, you recommended I take the kids to the Reptile Roundup at the Community Center, and I did, but I didn't have time to BLOG until now. The kids loved the Reptile Roundup, Gwen especially of course. We were five minutes into the presentation when Gwen turned to me, her face beet red, a giant smile on her face, and she said, "I love this stuff!" The presenter did not to appear to be one comfortable with kids (actually, he did not seem all that comfortable with people, so it seemed completely natural that he should be working with reptiles), but when he commented as he answered one of Gwen's questions ("How can you tell girl and boy snakes apart?") that it was a very good question, she was so pleased with herself that I wasn't sure at first whether she had heard the answer.
On our way out of the roundup, we passed a Tae Kwon Do class being held in one of the other rooms at the Community Center. Xavier looked in and cried, "Look, Mommy! They have a Korean flag and an American flag!"
"You're right, Xavier!" I responded.
"It's Korean-American, just like me!" he continued. "This side of me is Korean," he added, pointing to his right side, "And this side," the left, "is American."
Amused, I asked, "And which side is the side that loves me?"
Without hesitation, he replied, "Both sides."
First order of business ... last night the kids tested and passed their second rank (belt) test in Universal Kempo Karate. I was a little worried about Xavier at first because he was really cranky when I dropped him off for the test (he fell asleep on the way over.) Professor Ragone, the regional Universal Kempo dude, offered Xavier his hand, and told him everything was going to be okay (mistaking his sad demeanor for nerves instead of grumpiness). Parents are not permitted to watch the exam, so I got to watch a bunch of stranger's kids going through their karate lessons instead, but Professor Ragone came out and assured me that Xavier was all smiles, back to his normal self. Of course, that meant I now had something else to worry about ...
Anyway, by the end, Xavier had clearly warmed to Professor Ragone, because as the kids came around the barricade for the promotion ceremony, Xavier held up his water bottle and shouted to Professor Ragone, "Look how big my bottle is! It's the biggest bottle in the world!"
I don't know if we'll be able to bring him back there for his next test -- it is clear he has lost all fear of authority.
Anyway, if you were wondering about the title of this entry, the belt color for PeeWee second rank is Orange. With the karate outfit for Universal Kempo Karate being black, and the month being October ... well, you can draw your own conclusions. Kempo tradition dictates that you may not wear your belt outside of class, so I guess I can't take advantage of the situation and let the kids just wear their karate uniforms trick or treating ... as if the kids would let me.
In other news, we had our first parent-teacher conference of the year with Gwen's teacher. Spoiler alert -- this is a bragging paragraph. You can skip it if you are not up for that. Gwen is reading at the Second grade/Five month level (not bad for First grade/Second month status.) The teacher says she is almost certainly going to recommend Gwen for the Gifted and Talented program (she says her real question at this point is why Gwen was not recommended last year.)
She added that Gwen was a real darling to work with. She said she is friendly to many of the kids, but she also spends a lot of time talking to the teachers at recess, for "more mature" conversation. The teacher related a story of one time when she was sitting with the other teachers at the picnic table, watching the kids at recess, when Gwen ran up and shouted excitedly, "Mrs. White! Have you read the latest National Geographic? They have an article in there all about how they can make fuel for cars out of corn!"
We also read part of Gwen's daily journal. The teacher explained that at the beginning of the day, the kids get to write a paragraph on any topic they want, and draw a picture to go along with it. As we read through Gwen's journal, we started noticing a theme. The entries went something like this:
"Today my baby ladybugs looked like they were starting to make their chrysalises, but I was wrong. I have karate. I will be good."
"We have a field trip today to the library. It will be a good day. I will be good."
"The ladybugs came out of their chrysalises today. They are pink. I will be good. I am so happy!"
After several entries like this, the teacher remarked, "Hmmm, I never noticed before that she always says she will be good." As we read a little further, she murmured, "Hmm, maybe I should show this to some of the other kids -- might give them ideas." By the end, she was saying, "I don't know what her interest is in being good, but I like her attitude -- I think I will share this with the other kids ..."
But, mostly, she is impressed with what a gifted student Gwen is. This is a tad ironic in light of the fact that today Gwen forgot I was picking her up at school today (because of the timing of the conference), and we only managed to get her off the bus in the nick of time.
Jilian, you recommended I take the kids to the Reptile Roundup at the Community Center, and I did, but I didn't have time to BLOG until now. The kids loved the Reptile Roundup, Gwen especially of course. We were five minutes into the presentation when Gwen turned to me, her face beet red, a giant smile on her face, and she said, "I love this stuff!" The presenter did not to appear to be one comfortable with kids (actually, he did not seem all that comfortable with people, so it seemed completely natural that he should be working with reptiles), but when he commented as he answered one of Gwen's questions ("How can you tell girl and boy snakes apart?") that it was a very good question, she was so pleased with herself that I wasn't sure at first whether she had heard the answer.
On our way out of the roundup, we passed a Tae Kwon Do class being held in one of the other rooms at the Community Center. Xavier looked in and cried, "Look, Mommy! They have a Korean flag and an American flag!"
"You're right, Xavier!" I responded.
"It's Korean-American, just like me!" he continued. "This side of me is Korean," he added, pointing to his right side, "And this side," the left, "is American."
Amused, I asked, "And which side is the side that loves me?"
Without hesitation, he replied, "Both sides."
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Tooth!
Oops! I forgot to add, Gwen did lose that first tooth -- finally -- last Saturday while we were watching Star Wars: A New Hope with the kids. Yes, it took a really long time, I think in part because her permanent tooth got tired of waiting and came in behind the original tooth in the meantime. Yes, we've started an account to start saving for her braces.
And the kids loved Star Wars. Xav's favorite character was R2D2, and I think he now wants to be R2D2 (or Artie-D2, as he calls him) when he grows up.
After hearing him refer to R2D2 as Artie-D2 through most of the movie, I gently corrected him, "Xav, it is R-2-D-2."
"Artie-D2?" he asked.
"R-like-the-letter, 2-like-the-number, D-like-the-letter, 2-like-the-number," I replied.
"R2D2?" he asked.
"Yes, you got it."
"Oh." He paused, then asked, "But can I call him whatever I want?"
"Umm, I guess," I replied.
"Then, I say we call him, 'Artie-D2.'"
We also played Star Wars later that afternoon in the backyard. Xavier played -- you got it -- Artie-D2, but evidently did not feel that he was short enough for the part, because he was running around the backyard using one of his arms as kind of a third leg. I personally thought he looked more like Quasimodo or Tarzan that way, but I kept my opinion to myself.
Oh, and he wants a lightsaber for Christmas, even though Artie-D2 did not personally use one. I guess some concepts are just too cool to take literally.
And the kids loved Star Wars. Xav's favorite character was R2D2, and I think he now wants to be R2D2 (or Artie-D2, as he calls him) when he grows up.
After hearing him refer to R2D2 as Artie-D2 through most of the movie, I gently corrected him, "Xav, it is R-2-D-2."
"Artie-D2?" he asked.
"R-like-the-letter, 2-like-the-number, D-like-the-letter, 2-like-the-number," I replied.
"R2D2?" he asked.
"Yes, you got it."
"Oh." He paused, then asked, "But can I call him whatever I want?"
"Umm, I guess," I replied.
"Then, I say we call him, 'Artie-D2.'"
We also played Star Wars later that afternoon in the backyard. Xavier played -- you got it -- Artie-D2, but evidently did not feel that he was short enough for the part, because he was running around the backyard using one of his arms as kind of a third leg. I personally thought he looked more like Quasimodo or Tarzan that way, but I kept my opinion to myself.
Oh, and he wants a lightsaber for Christmas, even though Artie-D2 did not personally use one. I guess some concepts are just too cool to take literally.
Piper
The bad part about being too swamped to BLOG is that when you do have time to BLOG, you can't remember the funny stuff. However, we had a couple of timely funny things that happened in the past couple of days that I can pass on.
The other night the kids were brushing their teeth, and Xavier announced, "I love my teeth. They're pretty much my favorite part of my body. They're the most important part."
Adam replied, "I think the brain is the most important."
Xavier responded, "Well, my teeth are my favorite, anyway."
Gwen piped up, "My brain and my teeth are my favorite parts of my body. And my eyes. And my ears. And my nose."
"So pretty much your whole head," Adam said, amused.
"Yeah, my whole head," she replied. Then, after thinking for a moment, she added, "And my pancreas."
Teeth-brushing must be a great time for random thoughts for my kids, because as Xavier was brushing his teeth tonight, he placed his hand thoughtfully on my tummy. When he didn't remove it after a little while, I said, "Don't worry -- there is no baby brother or sister growing in there."
"Oh," he mused. "I wish there was."
"You wish you had a younger sibling?" I asked, surprised, because Xavier is usually pretty possessive of his position as baby of the family.
"I wish we had a Piper," he said vaguely, referring to his two-year-old cousin who visited us a couple of months ago.
"Really? Why?" we asked.
"Because she is really cute," he replied.
And what better reason does he need?
The other night the kids were brushing their teeth, and Xavier announced, "I love my teeth. They're pretty much my favorite part of my body. They're the most important part."
Adam replied, "I think the brain is the most important."
Xavier responded, "Well, my teeth are my favorite, anyway."
Gwen piped up, "My brain and my teeth are my favorite parts of my body. And my eyes. And my ears. And my nose."
"So pretty much your whole head," Adam said, amused.
"Yeah, my whole head," she replied. Then, after thinking for a moment, she added, "And my pancreas."
Teeth-brushing must be a great time for random thoughts for my kids, because as Xavier was brushing his teeth tonight, he placed his hand thoughtfully on my tummy. When he didn't remove it after a little while, I said, "Don't worry -- there is no baby brother or sister growing in there."
"Oh," he mused. "I wish there was."
"You wish you had a younger sibling?" I asked, surprised, because Xavier is usually pretty possessive of his position as baby of the family.
"I wish we had a Piper," he said vaguely, referring to his two-year-old cousin who visited us a couple of months ago.
"Really? Why?" we asked.
"Because she is really cute," he replied.
And what better reason does he need?
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
More problems on the Island of Sodor
Yep, another recall: http://www.recalls.rc2.com/recalls_Wood_0907.html . Heck, we haven't gotten our trains back from the first recall (although we did get a gift to thank us for our patience.)
I think it is time to introduce my kids to the fun you can have with sticks and stones.
I think it is time to introduce my kids to the fun you can have with sticks and stones.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Iconic
Adam was listening to NPR this morning, and they were having some piece on some great Jazz artist (I don't know who -- I wasn't there.) Adam was not following the piece, either, but suddenly Gwen piped up, "What is a 'jazz icon'?"
Adam said, "Well, an icon is something that everyone has heard about. For example, a monarch butterfly could be considered a butterfly icon -- if you have heard of butterflies, you have probably heard of the monarch."
"But who would be a jazz icon?" Gwen asked.
"Duke Ellington would be a jazz icon. Everyone has heard of him," Adam replied.
"Well, I haven't," Gwen muttered, returning to her cereal.
Ah, alas, evidently we are not teaching our children culture.
On the other hand, it seems that we are not teaching them appropriate phone etiquette either. Xavier was home from school, sick with a cold, and Adam was -- ahem -- "busy" when the phone rang. Assuming that no one but I would call at this time of morning, he called to Xavier to answer the phone.
He could hear Xavier rattling on in the next room, and after about three minutes, Xavier brought the phone into the "powder room" and said, "It's for you, daddy. It's Miss Joan." (The woman who lives next door.)
Hey, "Instructor Hoy who is a Boy" (as Xavier now calls you), Adam had a story he wanted me to share with you that he heard on the radio. Some robber had the bright idea of attempting to rob a karate school while class was in session. In his defense, he was armed with a gun.
The police apprehended him at the hospital.
Adam said, "Well, an icon is something that everyone has heard about. For example, a monarch butterfly could be considered a butterfly icon -- if you have heard of butterflies, you have probably heard of the monarch."
"But who would be a jazz icon?" Gwen asked.
"Duke Ellington would be a jazz icon. Everyone has heard of him," Adam replied.
"Well, I haven't," Gwen muttered, returning to her cereal.
Ah, alas, evidently we are not teaching our children culture.
On the other hand, it seems that we are not teaching them appropriate phone etiquette either. Xavier was home from school, sick with a cold, and Adam was -- ahem -- "busy" when the phone rang. Assuming that no one but I would call at this time of morning, he called to Xavier to answer the phone.
He could hear Xavier rattling on in the next room, and after about three minutes, Xavier brought the phone into the "powder room" and said, "It's for you, daddy. It's Miss Joan." (The woman who lives next door.)
Hey, "Instructor Hoy who is a Boy" (as Xavier now calls you), Adam had a story he wanted me to share with you that he heard on the radio. Some robber had the bright idea of attempting to rob a karate school while class was in session. In his defense, he was armed with a gun.
The police apprehended him at the hospital.
Friday, September 07, 2007
The Very Nice Caterpillar
You get a sneak peek at the book Gwen is writing at school -- her very first book! This is an early draft, and there are no pictures yet, but here it is. For your reading pleasure, I have preserved as much as I could of her original language.
The very nice caterpillar by Gwen/Miranda
one day a egg hatched. a baby caterpillar came out it. It looks like a pink and red caterpillar.
one day a baby bug was eaten by a ladybug. Then the caterpillar looked at the ladybug.
Hi said the caterpillar.
Hi said the ladybug.
and the caterpiller ate on.
One day the caterpiller saw a cat.
Hi said the cat.
Hi said the caterpiller.
One day the caterpiller made chrysalis.
the ladybug looked at the caterpiller. the cat looked at the caterpiller.
One day the caterpiller came out! only it is a butterfly!
bye said the cat.
bye said the ladybug.
bye said the butterfly.
fly away! said the cat.
fly away! said the ladybug.
One day the ladybug and the cat saw the butterfly.
Hi said the cat.
Hi said the ladybug.
Hi said the butterfly!
The end
What do you think? I think a star is born!
Notice the juxtaposition of the banal greetings of the ladybug, caterpillar/butterfly and cat against the horrific backdrop of the ladybug's carnivorous impulses! Observe the caterpillar's wordless acceptance of the baby bug's brutal murder -- clearly a reference to the hazards of peer pressure! Only when the caterpillar changes (metamorphasizes into a butterfly) can he "fly away" from his modest and somewhat brutal beginnings. This is an ingenious, subtle commentary on life as we know it today!
Or at least an excellent first attempt.
The very nice caterpillar by Gwen/Miranda
one day a egg hatched. a baby caterpillar came out it. It looks like a pink and red caterpillar.
one day a baby bug was eaten by a ladybug. Then the caterpillar looked at the ladybug.
Hi said the caterpillar.
Hi said the ladybug.
and the caterpiller ate on.
One day the caterpiller saw a cat.
Hi said the cat.
Hi said the caterpiller.
One day the caterpiller made chrysalis.
the ladybug looked at the caterpiller. the cat looked at the caterpiller.
One day the caterpiller came out! only it is a butterfly!
bye said the cat.
bye said the ladybug.
bye said the butterfly.
fly away! said the cat.
fly away! said the ladybug.
One day the ladybug and the cat saw the butterfly.
Hi said the cat.
Hi said the ladybug.
Hi said the butterfly!
The end
What do you think? I think a star is born!
Notice the juxtaposition of the banal greetings of the ladybug, caterpillar/butterfly and cat against the horrific backdrop of the ladybug's carnivorous impulses! Observe the caterpillar's wordless acceptance of the baby bug's brutal murder -- clearly a reference to the hazards of peer pressure! Only when the caterpillar changes (metamorphasizes into a butterfly) can he "fly away" from his modest and somewhat brutal beginnings. This is an ingenious, subtle commentary on life as we know it today!
Or at least an excellent first attempt.
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Monday, September 03, 2007
Nuptials
We just got back from a whirlwind trip to Washington, DC where we saw a few exhibits at the National Zoo (we did see the Giant Panda Cub), the Natural History Museum (unfortunately, the Insect Gallery was closed, although we did see some of the Korean exhibit until Xavier lost interest and wandered off to see the Early Human exhibit), and, not coincidentally, my cousin John's wedding to a lovely woman named Tricia.
The kids had a great time riding on the Metro, jumping on beds at the motel, and also going to the zoo and museum (although when asked what their favorite activity was on the trip, Gwen said, "The gift shop!") Still, there was a lot of apprehension about the wedding itself. Xavier took the wise course and fell asleep in the car on the way over, but Adam made the mistake of saying that weddings were not designed to be fun for kids, so Gwen was in a funk before we got there.
I held Xavier on my lap, and even though he woke up, he was pretty quiet through the ceremony. Adam picked up Gwen, and she leaned her head against his chest. "I can hear your heart beating, Daddy," she whispered.
"Is it saying, 'I love Gwen, I love Gwen?'" a reference to a joke we have with the kids.
"No," Gwen replied, "It's saying, 'When are we leaving? When are we leaving?'"
Still, it was really nice seeing my cousins and my cousins' kids. I got to meet my cousin Jimmy's girls, which was nice; Jimmy's oldest, Caroline, and Gwen were born at about the same time, so his wife Lisa and I had exchanged a few baby gifts six years ago. My mom had been a little worried that if the kids all got together, Xavier would feel left out -- Jimmy's second girl Jameson is about Xavier's and my niece Chloe's age, and his third daughter a little younger than that. I guess she figured that Xav would feel like an outcast amongst all that "Girl Power".
As it turns out, she needn't have worried. Chloe slept through the wedding, so I don't think she got a chance to meet Jimmy's girls until later. Gwen and Caroline sized each other up, but didn't say much.
Suddenly Xavier leaped out from behind my skirts and began "working the crowd" as it were -- which seems to be his tried-and-true technique of acting like a lunatic. Jimmy's girls were delighted with him.
So much so, that when I stopped to talk to Jimmy's wife Lisa at the reception, her daughter Jameson jumped up and said with an expectant smile, "Where's the boy?"
The kids had a great time riding on the Metro, jumping on beds at the motel, and also going to the zoo and museum (although when asked what their favorite activity was on the trip, Gwen said, "The gift shop!") Still, there was a lot of apprehension about the wedding itself. Xavier took the wise course and fell asleep in the car on the way over, but Adam made the mistake of saying that weddings were not designed to be fun for kids, so Gwen was in a funk before we got there.
I held Xavier on my lap, and even though he woke up, he was pretty quiet through the ceremony. Adam picked up Gwen, and she leaned her head against his chest. "I can hear your heart beating, Daddy," she whispered.
"Is it saying, 'I love Gwen, I love Gwen?'" a reference to a joke we have with the kids.
"No," Gwen replied, "It's saying, 'When are we leaving? When are we leaving?'"
Still, it was really nice seeing my cousins and my cousins' kids. I got to meet my cousin Jimmy's girls, which was nice; Jimmy's oldest, Caroline, and Gwen were born at about the same time, so his wife Lisa and I had exchanged a few baby gifts six years ago. My mom had been a little worried that if the kids all got together, Xavier would feel left out -- Jimmy's second girl Jameson is about Xavier's and my niece Chloe's age, and his third daughter a little younger than that. I guess she figured that Xav would feel like an outcast amongst all that "Girl Power".
As it turns out, she needn't have worried. Chloe slept through the wedding, so I don't think she got a chance to meet Jimmy's girls until later. Gwen and Caroline sized each other up, but didn't say much.
Suddenly Xavier leaped out from behind my skirts and began "working the crowd" as it were -- which seems to be his tried-and-true technique of acting like a lunatic. Jimmy's girls were delighted with him.
So much so, that when I stopped to talk to Jimmy's wife Lisa at the reception, her daughter Jameson jumped up and said with an expectant smile, "Where's the boy?"
Thursday, August 23, 2007
School, Work, and Chloe
First off, I got permission from my sister-in-law to relate this anecdote about my niece Chloe. When we went to visit them last week (Adam, Gwen, Xavier and I), we had a great time. It was hot, so we just hung out around the house, chatted, read a book to Chloe, played on Chloe's swingset, rode on Chloe's lawn mower (okay, she lets my brother -- her father -- think it is his), played with the dollhouse with Chloe ... you get the idea. Chloe really loves cousin Gwen, and I think she is fond of Xavier, too, but boys may be drifting over to the "alien species" category at this point in her life.
Anyway, although we don't see as much of my brother and his family as we'd all like, I was a little surprised when, at the end of the visit, Chloe turned to me and asked:
"Do you have any children?"
See? You can have kids and still be the "fun aunt"!
(Ginger, I am sure your sister is a "fun aunt" too :).
Gwen's first day of school was yesterday. She has been totally psyched for this day for weeks now. Yesterday she woke up (before her alarm) and ran downstairs. She ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, dressed herself, grabbed her backpack and put on her name tag, and said, "Daddy, I'm ready to go!"
Adam replied, "Honey, the bus won't even be here for an hour!"
On the work front, I guess my kids resent my long hours. Two days ago, I got home from work, and Xavier said, "Mommy, I made you something! Wait here." He ran into the other room and came back with a scary-looking mask.
"Gee, thanks, Xavier," I said with enthusiasm. "This is really neat!"
"Ask him what it's for," my husband suggested.
Wary now, I said, "What is it for, Xav?"
He looked up at me earnestly. "It's to put on your desk to scare your boss away so he doesn't give you any more work!"
Well, this was pretty funny. I admit, I didn't really intend to bring it to work (if I hung up every piece of art the kids made for my "work", my office walls would be two feet thick), but the next morning (as Gwen was making her Olympic run for the school bus and Adam was trying to get him to settle down so he could nebulize), Xavier was running around the first floor crying, "Mommy! Mommy! Don't forget your mask! Don't forget your mask! You need to scare your boss away!"
What could I do? I brought the mask to work, and it is hanging next to my door. It hasn't scared my boss away yet (although my workload should get lighter soon). Then again, he hasn't asked me about it either, which is probably just as well; jobs are pretty tight in my neck of the woods these days.
Anyway, although we don't see as much of my brother and his family as we'd all like, I was a little surprised when, at the end of the visit, Chloe turned to me and asked:
"Do you have any children?"
See? You can have kids and still be the "fun aunt"!
(Ginger, I am sure your sister is a "fun aunt" too :).
Gwen's first day of school was yesterday. She has been totally psyched for this day for weeks now. Yesterday she woke up (before her alarm) and ran downstairs. She ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, dressed herself, grabbed her backpack and put on her name tag, and said, "Daddy, I'm ready to go!"
Adam replied, "Honey, the bus won't even be here for an hour!"
On the work front, I guess my kids resent my long hours. Two days ago, I got home from work, and Xavier said, "Mommy, I made you something! Wait here." He ran into the other room and came back with a scary-looking mask.
"Gee, thanks, Xavier," I said with enthusiasm. "This is really neat!"
"Ask him what it's for," my husband suggested.
Wary now, I said, "What is it for, Xav?"
He looked up at me earnestly. "It's to put on your desk to scare your boss away so he doesn't give you any more work!"
Well, this was pretty funny. I admit, I didn't really intend to bring it to work (if I hung up every piece of art the kids made for my "work", my office walls would be two feet thick), but the next morning (as Gwen was making her Olympic run for the school bus and Adam was trying to get him to settle down so he could nebulize), Xavier was running around the first floor crying, "Mommy! Mommy! Don't forget your mask! Don't forget your mask! You need to scare your boss away!"
What could I do? I brought the mask to work, and it is hanging next to my door. It hasn't scared my boss away yet (although my workload should get lighter soon). Then again, he hasn't asked me about it either, which is probably just as well; jobs are pretty tight in my neck of the woods these days.
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Interpreting the News
(In case you didn't notice, this is the second BLOG in two days, so don't assume you are caught up when you read this one.)
In the mornings, Adam plays the radio while he is making breakfast. In the evenings, I often listen to the news as I ferry the kids to and from karate. The kids listen along too, but they often don't understand the episodic nature of the news stories, and they blend them together, sometimes deriving funny interpretations out of otherwise tragic newsstories.
Case in point: this morning, we heard a story of 180 trapped Chinese miners that are feared drowned after a levee broke and flooded their mine. This story was followed by one about how China is bracing for an eminent typhoon. Gwen looked up from her breakfast and asked, "What is a typhoon?"
Adam replied, "It the same thing as a hurricane, except it is in the Pacific."
Gwen asked, "So, the miners were drowned by a hurricane?"
A similar situation came up a couple of weeks ago when six miners were trapped by a cave-in in Utah; this was a few days after a bridge collapsed in Minneapolis. We first heard a story about how the CEO of the Utah mine kept insisting that an earthquake caused the cave-in, although experts disagree, then another story about how authorities did not believe that the bridge collapse in Minneapolis was caused by a terrorist attack.
Gwen piped up, "So, they think an earthquake caused the bridge to collapse?"
"No, honey, wrong story," I said. "The mine owner thinks an earthquake caused the mine collapse, but authorities disagree."
"They think the mine collapsed because of a terrorist attack, then?" she asked.
"No, they don't. That was the bridge story, except they don't think a terrorist attack caused that, either."
Exasperated, Gwen said, "I don't know why you listen to the news -- it doesn't make any sense!"
By the way, that tooth is still hanging in there (literally!) Gwen and Xav have been having a lot of philosophical questions about the tooth fairy ...
In the mornings, Adam plays the radio while he is making breakfast. In the evenings, I often listen to the news as I ferry the kids to and from karate. The kids listen along too, but they often don't understand the episodic nature of the news stories, and they blend them together, sometimes deriving funny interpretations out of otherwise tragic newsstories.
Case in point: this morning, we heard a story of 180 trapped Chinese miners that are feared drowned after a levee broke and flooded their mine. This story was followed by one about how China is bracing for an eminent typhoon. Gwen looked up from her breakfast and asked, "What is a typhoon?"
Adam replied, "It the same thing as a hurricane, except it is in the Pacific."
Gwen asked, "So, the miners were drowned by a hurricane?"
A similar situation came up a couple of weeks ago when six miners were trapped by a cave-in in Utah; this was a few days after a bridge collapsed in Minneapolis. We first heard a story about how the CEO of the Utah mine kept insisting that an earthquake caused the cave-in, although experts disagree, then another story about how authorities did not believe that the bridge collapse in Minneapolis was caused by a terrorist attack.
Gwen piped up, "So, they think an earthquake caused the bridge to collapse?"
"No, honey, wrong story," I said. "The mine owner thinks an earthquake caused the mine collapse, but authorities disagree."
"They think the mine collapsed because of a terrorist attack, then?" she asked.
"No, they don't. That was the bridge story, except they don't think a terrorist attack caused that, either."
Exasperated, Gwen said, "I don't know why you listen to the news -- it doesn't make any sense!"
By the way, that tooth is still hanging in there (literally!) Gwen and Xav have been having a lot of philosophical questions about the tooth fairy ...
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Little Pitchers Have Big Ears
This posting is not entirely G-rated, so be forewarned and act accordingly.
My karate instructor is fostering a dog who is a pure-bred vanilla labrador. She is not spayed. One of the reasons she is being fostered right now is that she kept escaping from her previous owner. The karate instructor has an interested party for the dog, but is waiting for said party to build a fence.
Well, the lab went into heat a few weeks ago. I asked the karate instructor about getting her spayed, but she said as a "foster parent," she is reluctant to make that decision because the prospect may want to breed the dog. Anyway, to make a long story short, the dog "got out" and now has some "buns in the oven."
At the same time this is going on, Gwen suddenly took an interest in where babies came from (after overhearing something at the mall). I explained it to her in very high-level terms, the result of which, I am sure, is that she determined never to have kids because it is evidently too boring a process. We've also read a few National Geographics together at bedtime, but usually those are pretty tame.
Today we went to visit my brother and his family (thanks, Ez, Ginger and Chloe! We had a great time, and the kids can't wait to visit you guys again!) My sister-in-law is involved in her local Animal Rescue, so we discussed the karate instructor's dog's "delicate position." We discussed nothing in detail, but the kids seemed pretty distracted anyway -- TV at the restaurant, dollhouse and video games at the house -- so we thought we were safe.
Evidently, someone was leading us on, only pretending to be distracted. We came home, had a pleasant supper, got the kids to bed (late, as usual), and since they weren't at all tired, they had a disagreement which made Xavier sad. As I was trying to comfort him, I got a brown teddy bear Adam had gotten for me when I was pregnant (a story for another day) and handed it to him. I told Xavier, "Here, let Happy Nappy Bear cheer you up -- he always cheers me up."
Xavier looked at Happy Nappy Bear, then pulled Pink Bear out from under the covers. He pressed their noses together as if they were kissing, and turned to me with a smile. "Look, Mommy! Pink Bear and Happy Nappy Bear are mating!"
Gasp! "Um, Xavier, I don't think that's possible, and we probably ought to avoid discussing that in public."
"Of course it's possible, Mommy! Pink Bear is a boy, and Happy Nappy Bear is a girl and --" In the meantime, Gwen is giggling like a loon in her bed (if loons giggled, which, I guess, technically they do not.)
"Good night, Xavier!" Woo, boy.
Well, if Happy Nappy ends up in a "family way" and anyone wants baby teddy bears, let me know. If you are interested in puppies, I also know someone I can hook you up with.
By the way, we are looking forward to another major milestone in our house -- Gwen has her first (very) loose tooth. We'll keep you posted.
My karate instructor is fostering a dog who is a pure-bred vanilla labrador. She is not spayed. One of the reasons she is being fostered right now is that she kept escaping from her previous owner. The karate instructor has an interested party for the dog, but is waiting for said party to build a fence.
Well, the lab went into heat a few weeks ago. I asked the karate instructor about getting her spayed, but she said as a "foster parent," she is reluctant to make that decision because the prospect may want to breed the dog. Anyway, to make a long story short, the dog "got out" and now has some "buns in the oven."
At the same time this is going on, Gwen suddenly took an interest in where babies came from (after overhearing something at the mall). I explained it to her in very high-level terms, the result of which, I am sure, is that she determined never to have kids because it is evidently too boring a process. We've also read a few National Geographics together at bedtime, but usually those are pretty tame.
Today we went to visit my brother and his family (thanks, Ez, Ginger and Chloe! We had a great time, and the kids can't wait to visit you guys again!) My sister-in-law is involved in her local Animal Rescue, so we discussed the karate instructor's dog's "delicate position." We discussed nothing in detail, but the kids seemed pretty distracted anyway -- TV at the restaurant, dollhouse and video games at the house -- so we thought we were safe.
Evidently, someone was leading us on, only pretending to be distracted. We came home, had a pleasant supper, got the kids to bed (late, as usual), and since they weren't at all tired, they had a disagreement which made Xavier sad. As I was trying to comfort him, I got a brown teddy bear Adam had gotten for me when I was pregnant (a story for another day) and handed it to him. I told Xavier, "Here, let Happy Nappy Bear cheer you up -- he always cheers me up."
Xavier looked at Happy Nappy Bear, then pulled Pink Bear out from under the covers. He pressed their noses together as if they were kissing, and turned to me with a smile. "Look, Mommy! Pink Bear and Happy Nappy Bear are mating!"
Gasp! "Um, Xavier, I don't think that's possible, and we probably ought to avoid discussing that in public."
"Of course it's possible, Mommy! Pink Bear is a boy, and Happy Nappy Bear is a girl and --" In the meantime, Gwen is giggling like a loon in her bed (if loons giggled, which, I guess, technically they do not.)
"Good night, Xavier!" Woo, boy.
Well, if Happy Nappy ends up in a "family way" and anyone wants baby teddy bears, let me know. If you are interested in puppies, I also know someone I can hook you up with.
By the way, we are looking forward to another major milestone in our house -- Gwen has her first (very) loose tooth. We'll keep you posted.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
And yet another Public Service Announcement
It's a bad month for Mattel: http://www.mattel.com/safety/us/
My kids are still alive, in case you were wondering. My day job has gone above and beyond lately. I'll try to post something soon.
In the meantime, I welcome job referrals :).
My kids are still alive, in case you were wondering. My day job has gone above and beyond lately. I'll try to post something soon.
In the meantime, I welcome job referrals :).
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Another Public Service Announcement
There's been another toy recall, this one for Fisher Price. It involves certain Sesame Street and Dora the Explorer toys that were sold in May and June of this year. Shockingly enough, it involves toys made in China and it has to do with lead content. For more information, check this out: http://www.service.mattel.com/ and click on the Recall link (which is "prominently" displayed at the bottom of the page, or at least that's where it was when I looked.)
Of course, this doesn't affect my kids all that much. Xav is a tad old for Sesame Street, and now that Gwen has dismissed Dora and her cousin Diego as "not scientific enough," they've kind of lost their appeal for both kids. Now, I know what you are thinking: Thomas the Tank Engine is not exactly a National Geographic documentary, but sibling emulation can only go so far.
Of course, this doesn't affect my kids all that much. Xav is a tad old for Sesame Street, and now that Gwen has dismissed Dora and her cousin Diego as "not scientific enough," they've kind of lost their appeal for both kids. Now, I know what you are thinking: Thomas the Tank Engine is not exactly a National Geographic documentary, but sibling emulation can only go so far.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
