Mama Muses

Wishing on an eyelash...

2011-02-18T18:10:00.001-08:00

Charlie (age 7, size of a peanut) has been slow to learn to read. Unlike George (age 9, and nine year old size), who was reading in kindergarten, Charlie has struggled.

He was chosen to read one of the petitions (we pray to the Lord) at the kindergarten and first grade mass. He practiced each night and had it down pretty good. Yet, on the morning of the mass, he pulled me aside and said:

"I found an eyelash today and I blew on it to make a wish. I wished that I was a better reader."

I immediately dropped down to peer right in his sweet little face and said,"I have way more respect for a guy that finds it hard to read and keeps on trying than for someone it just comes easily to."

I couldn't make it to the mass. Nana and Poppop went and said he was great. My friend Audrey said he did awesome, that he read it like he had practiced for weeks.

When he got home, he and I jumped up and down screaming,"Yeah! Yeah!"

Then he begged to read to me. So we sat and he read his new book Big Nate. Two pages in, he was reading so well that I kept turning to him and asking, "Did you read this already? Did George read this to you?". I kept on asking and he kept insisting it was his first time reading it. Finally, he punched me in the arm and said, "I can read now!"

And I realized, his eyelash wish worked. The switch in his brain flipped. Charlie can read.

He is awesome. And a very brave little dude, too.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Why Charlie cracks me up...

2010-07-27T19:44:00.000-07:00

Tonight Charlie came running upstairs while Matt and I were finishing dinner. Just as we were about to yell at him to get lost, he said, "Wait, wait-Mom's gonna love this- I just was stretching out this rubber snake and it snapped back and hit me in the coconuts!"

At which point, I am ashamed to admit, I burst out laughing. I love that guy...

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Summer Lovin' -Gorilla Yogi Style

2010-07-26T18:39:00.000-07:00

I took Charlie and Clare to a Gorilla Yogis event at Powderhorn Park on Saturday. Even though Charlie said he was nervous he'd be too embarrassed to do yoga there, I told him its normal to be a little scared and we should just go for it. So, we grabbed 3 yoga mats and hopped in the van and headed across the river. As we neared Powderhorn Park, we saw a guy on a bike with a yoga mat strapped to his bike. We decided to follow him - the kids waved maniacally at him through the window.

When we got to the park, we had a way to walk to the event. We trudged over the grass and came to a group of thirty some people on mats. We unfurled our mats and waited to start. At least 40 more people came before class started - there were probably less than 10 kids total. The money collected went to the Youth Urban Farm Project and we practiced facing the farm plot.

We started our practice with tree pose and Clare got right into it. Charlie hung in
for at least half of the 75 minute class with some beautiful Warrior Poses. By final Shivasana, the kids were beat and just piled on top of me shading their eyes from the sun.

When we got in the van, Charlie said, "I had no idea it was gonna be like that - that was awesome!". What a great learning experience!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Why Team Sports ROCK...

2010-04-17T14:13:00.001-07:00

This week, George and Matt went to the end of the year swim team banquet. George was OBSESSED with winning a ribbon. The minute they walked in, George got a trophy (every kid got one just for being on the team). But he still only wanted the ribbon.

As they went through the ribbon presentation, George had both hands tensely poised with fingers crossed. Matt quickly realized the ribbons were being handed out to the all the kids that qualified for State. They were handing them out straight out of the printed program from State. George was not in the program because he went in place of a kid on the third and fourth grade relay that couldn't make it to the tournament. Once all the riboons were handed out and George hadn't won one, he was heartbroken. But as usual, he kept up a good front, trying to stay positive.

Then, special certificates were handed out. The coach got up and told the story of a second grader who joined the team for the first time this year. He talked about how this boy worked hard all year and really wanted to go to State, but in the end didn't qualify. Then he described how this boy was asked at the last minute if he would be interested in going to State on the third and fourth grade relay team. He said that the boy agreed to go without even hesitating and how impressive that was since it's intimidating to swim with older kids. George leaned over to Matt and said, "He's talking about me!"

When the coach announced George's name for Rookie of the Year, kids were shouting, "Yayy George! GEORGE!"

On the way home, George told Matt he was so happy when they called his name that he thought he was going to cry.

Needless to say, he can't wait to be on team next year...

George goes to State...

2010-04-02T18:42:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, George went to Prelims for the swim team. He competed in 25 yard freestyle and backstroke. I took him. It was insane, more kids running around in swim caps then I have ever seen in my life.

Poppop came with us. It was a lot of fun and I was so proud of George. George was convinced he was going to State. Poppop and I had our doubts.

That night, I went to the web site to see if George did make it to State. Not even close. The next morning when I broke the news to him, he looked totally deflated and said, "Awwww...." But then, he smiled and said it was OK, he'd try again next year.

That night as I was getting ready to go to bed, I got an email from Brian the coach. A spot had opened up on the 3rd and 4th grade 100 yard freestyle relay team. He wanted to know if George wanted to go to state.

The next morning I asked George. Before I could even get the full story out, he yelled, "I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN!" He was so excited.

That night, Matt and I took George to the University of Minnesota Aquatic Center for the State Tournament. We screamed like crazy people when he swam his leg of the relay. They took third place.

I emailed the coach the next day to thank him for giving George the chance to go to State. He emailed me back and said that George "definitely has a great attitude!"

I totally agree...

Charlie's First Date

2010-04-02T18:25:00.000-07:00

Charlie has been mentioning a little girl from his class named Annie. Her name just seems to come up when he talks about his day. He has asked if he can go to her house. I think it's nice that he has a girl that he plays with at school, but I didn't think much of it.

Then I went with his class to the Arboretum, and Annie came running up to me asking when she could come over to our house. I talked to her mom, who was also chaperoning that day, and said we should set something up.

Next thing I know, Charlie came home and told us he was going to Annie's cabin for a sleep over. He told us that Annie asked him to come to his cabin over spring break. According to Charlie, when Annie asked him to come to her cabin, he asked her what exactly this whole "cabin" thing was about (in his version he uses air quotes for emphasis).

I called his mom and invited Annie over. She and I laughed at their little friendship. Apparently, Annie told her mom and dad that when Charlie spends the night at their cabin, they'll sleep in separate bunk beds until she gets scared. Then she'll have to climb into bed with Charlie.

When Annie came home with us after school, she was very sweet. Talkative, cute, energetic - a very nice little girl. Charlie and she walked around the backyard, talking and trying to figure out what to play. When Matt got home they were racing down the alley, Charlie being pushed on Clare's trike by Annie. Both Annie's mom and dad called during the playdate, just to see how it was going. They were very nice and loved hearing how much fun the kids were having playing together.

After they came inside, all they wanted to do was wrestle. I wasn't sure if that was totally fine or a little weird, but I let them wrestle anyway. I just stayed downstairs with them just to make sure Annie did get hurt.

When Annie's dad came to get her, she didn't want to go. I told her dad she should be exhausted after all the wrestling they did. Later that night, Charlie told Matt that he had a great day. He said, "I love today. And I love Annie."

And I love Charlie...

Charlie = Class Clown!

2010-02-05T07:08:00.000-08:00

I went into the boys' school yesterday and taught yoga. Charlie was in my first class and he is just too much. He and his little buddy James sat next to each other and could not shut up! The minute I asked the group if they knew how we should breathe during yoga, Charlie was bouncing up and down off his matt yelling, "Oooo! Oooo! I know! I know!"

I decided to nip this in the bud, so I told the class, "I am going to call on my son for this first question, but then I won't call on him the rest of class. He gets to answer the first question and then he is done, OK?" They all seemed to think this was quite reasonable.

So I said, "OK Charles, how do we breathe during yoga?"

And he leapt up and yelled, "LIKE THIS!" And he proceeded to run full force around the room until he crashed into a wall and fell to the ground.

Amidst the kids' shocked laughter, I calmly stated, "No, that is not how we breathe, we actually breathe in and out our noses," and continued on with class.

During the remainder of class, Charlie periodically yelled, "HEY GUYS WATCH THIS!" He would then get in a yoga pose and hold it for a minute before crashing to the floor face first.

I had such a great time teaching the kids. And Charlie wasn't too distracting - he was kind of funny. But I did find it a bit disturbing that tiny little Charlie is apparently a bizarre reincarnation of Chris Farley...

A night of bliss and back to THIS???

2010-01-23T10:01:00.000-08:00

Matt and I went to the new W Hotel in the Foshay Tower in Downtown Minneapolis on Friday night for a mini-getaway. We left the clan with Marjahn (our beloved sitter) on Friday at 4:15 and hightailed through traffic it to Minneapolis.

After parking in the TCF lot, we went into the skyway system, bought some soup at Panera because we were both starving and made our way to the W. Unfortunately, Matt neglected to follow his self-proclaimed most important rule "never listen to Chrissy for directions" and let me suggest we go through the skyway to get to the W instead of doing the obvious and walking directly across the street to the hotel lobby. We spent an extra ten minutes at least winding around the skyways until we got to the W. But cooler heads prevailed and not a cross word was spoken...

We checked in and went up to a small but luxiouriously modern (and very dark) hotel room. We explored the movie options for the night (I was confident I would watch three movies before bed) and then hopped in the ginormous bed for a pre-dinner nap. I was in HEAVEN.

At about 6:00 we got back up, got dressed and headed up to the 27th floor to the Prohibition Bar. It was very dark and back lit with purple light (much like the rest of the W) and had all kinds of nooks and crannies with sofas and chairs (and a bed?) for people to drink in. We didn't see anyone we liked better than ourselves therefore went back down to the lobby. We decided to eat at Manny's Steakhouse at 7:15, so we got our names on a list and headed over the the Barnes and Noble. Although it was huge, it was still just a B&N, so we quickly went back to the Living Room (the W Hotel's bar in the lobby). We sat in a little sofa/chair area and drank diet coke and n/a beer.

But then Dinner. We ate a ton of food - salad, steak (Matt), fish (me), hashbrowns (Matt), baked potato (me), and had a blast. We are convinced we were sitting by a boss who was sleeping with his employee and an eHarmony couple. After a couple of coffees, we went back up to the room. We watched The Box (Cameron Diaz pushes a button on a box and gets a million dollars and someone gets killed). We also had Sebastian Joe's ice cream (delivered in the pint container with a spoon) and it was PERFECT. I only made it through one other movie - The Time Traveller's Wife (the book was better).

The next morning, we awoke at 8:00 (so much for sleeping in) and ordered room service and watched the first half of Capitalism A Love Story (Michael Moore - very good, I need to rent it to watch the end).

And then we checked out and headed home to our (little) peeps. As we pulled up to the house, we were so excited to be reunited with our three little buddies. I asked Matt,"What do you think they'll be doing when we walk in?"

Well, this is the scene we were greeted by: We walked in and all was quiet. Matt called out, "Hey, we're home! Anybody live here???"

And a stampede was heard trampling up the basement stairs - led by Clare, who yelled, "MOM! DAD! The toilet is overflowing!!!!"

Needess to say, the toilet was overflowing - it had even leaked a bit into our laundry room. We took a deep breath and began the cleaning up process. I won't share the gory details, but let's just say it was essentially a crime scene in our bathroom. And neither Charlie nor Clare will tell us exactly what happened in there (George was not involved).

A beautiful night away and back to reality....

Swim Team? Sweet!

2010-01-15T07:25:00.000-08:00

George officially joined the swim team last night. And Thank God, Matt took him to his first practice. I heard the swim team is a really fun way to experience team sports and thought that Mr. Unicycle-riding-is-the-extent-of-my-athletics would benefit from joining. When told that he needed to be able to swim the length of the pool to join, I thought, "Umm, I think he can do that... right?" Later, when I asked George if he thought he could swim the length of the pool, he shrugged and said, "I don't know..."

Well, the night of the first practice, I was scared. What if he can't swim well enough? Would he be scarred for life? I ran out during the day to get him a blue swimsuit (not wanting to buy a school one in case he can't swim well enough to ever don it a second time) and could only find a loud blue and white print from Target. Had to let go of that, the attire was quickly becoming the least of our worries....

Luckily, as I was trying to convince George (and myself) that the first night was simply an opportunity for us to see if WE liked the swim team and wanted to join, Matt decided he was going to go with George.

I sent the two of them off with the ugly swimsuit and a towel, hoping for the best. I had a meeting to go to at 8:30 so I met them at the pool to trade cars and send the other two kids home with Matt and George. As we waited for them to come out to the parking lot, I was a a nervous wreck. As George walked up, I yelled, "HOW DID YOU DO????"

"I almost drowned three times," George replied, without a hint of regret.

"DO YOU GET TO COME BACK?" I blurted without remembering to sensor myself.

"Yep," he replied as he unhurriedly climbed into the van.

As Matt approached, I asked again, "How did he do???"

"Sank like a stone!," Matt said with great glee.

"CAN HE COME BACK NEXT WEEK?" This, absurdly, apparently was all that mattered to me.

"Oh yeah, the coach told him 'The flyer didn't say this was going to be easy!'' And with that they bid me goodbye and were on there way.

Later, I was able to extract the full story. George not only had to swim the length of the pool, he had to swim back and forth two full times. One third into the first length, he started struggling and rolled over on his back to finish with the backstroke. At this point, Matt told the lifeguard,"Hey - that little guy's struggling over there!", to which the lifeguard shrugged him off. George finished the length on his back and then realized he was dragging behind the other kids and tried to catch up, tiring himself out yet again. Finally, he slowed down and finished the challenge.

And as they walked out, Coach Petersen told George and Matt his wonderful line about the flyer. I am so proud of my men. Representing for us like that. Two guys with boundless belief in their abilities that pulled it off without too much of a hitch. They rock.

A Farewell to Mil-mee

2010-01-04T15:52:00.000-08:00

It's official - it's over. Clare is weaned.

She is three years and five months old. I have to admit there was a time there where I thought she may still be nursing at five. But I went away to a cabin for the weekend and I came back to a big girl who doesn't get mil-mee (her word for nursing - the perfect combination of Milk + Mommy).

I left the gang to go to the cabin on Friday afternoon. I didn't think Clare would freak out about me being gone until the wee hours of the morning when she woke up and wanted to be soothed back to sleep by nursing. But I got a phone call at about 6:30 Friday evening. Clare was beside herself crying,"I want mil-mee, I want mil-mee!" I told her I loved her and promised I'd snuggle her up when I got home, to which she responded, "I WANT MIL-MEE RIGHT NOW!"

Matt told me to tell her I'd let her have a little bit of mil-mee when I got home. When I protested (this was the event I had picked to make the clean break), he calmly said, "Hey, I'm doing whatever I have to do in order to get her through this weekend." So, I told her she could have a little when I got home.

The next morning, Matt told me on the phone that Clare woke up about five different times (all early in the morning) asking for mil-mee. Each time he would tell her there was no mil-mee and cuddle her up and she'd fall back asleep. Although that was a restless night, neither of them seemed to stressed out about it.

Interestingly enough, Saturday afternoon, I got really, really homesick. We had been having a great time, great friends, great food, great conversation, great games and all of the sudden I just got very sad and wanted to be with Matt and the kids. It passed, and I had a great evening there, but by Sunday morning, I was really ready to go home.

I talked to Matt as we were getting in the car to go home and he told me that Clare did great Saturday night. She woke up only once or twice and immediately cuddled up with Matt and fell back asleep. I was very unsure of what I was walking into when I got home. Part of me was afraid that she would beg me for mil-mee the minute I saw her. I was also scared that if I could fend her off during the day, I'd cave at night.

They all started screaming when I came to the front door. I heard Clare crying with joy as they unlocked it. I put down my stuff and yelled, "GUYS! Two nights is too long! I'm never leaving you again!" And everyone, and I mean everyone - Clare, Charlie, George and Matt piled on top of me on the living room floor. We hugged and kissed and rolled around saying how much we missed each other and then everyone got up and wandered off to do their own thing. Even Clare. She never mentioned mil-mee once.

At bedtime, I got ready to take her upstairs and she asked for it. I told her, "No honey, there is no more mil-mee," and she burst into tears. I told her I'd make her a sippy cup of milk and cuddle her up as long as she needed. Crying, she went up to bed with me. She asked if she could just have "one sip of mil-mee". I said no and she rolled over snuggled back into me and fell asleep. In the wee hours of the morning, she woke up and asked for mil-mee. When I denied her, she cried for a bit and fell back asleep. We replayed this seen a few more times and at one point she did try to reach down my shirt insisting,"Just one sip - I'll stop at the count of three!" But I had my ground and that was it.

Really. That was it. After three years and five months of nursing her, at least one year and five months of which were spent berating myself for still nursing her, it is all over. The fat lady has sung. That's all she wrote. No more mil-mee. Ever. I have to admit, I am a little sad. While happy that she transitioned so easily, I am surprised there was so little resistance. Hey, just because I can't nurse her anymore doesn't mean I can't snuggle bunny her up all the time right? George was nursed for one year, Charlie for just over two years and Clare for three years and five months. The end of an era. No more mil-mee. Who's gonna cuddle me up over this one?

Charlie's First Day

2009-09-09T14:25:00.000-07:00

Charlie had his first day of Kindergarten today. As he put on his new Catholic school uniform today he told me he was a little nervous. Then, as he ate his breakfast he told me, "I am just a little bit nervous."

So, Matt and Clare drove in one car and George, Charlie and I drove in another. As we headed toward school, I told him he was going to have such a fun day and I'd be there to pick him up before he knew it.

As we walked into school, Charlie got very quiet. As we put his things in his locker, he panicked because his socks were too small and were slipping down into his shoes. So, we took them off and put them in my purse, deciding he could go sockless for the day. When we walked into the classroom, his eyes got very, very big. His teacher greeted him, we put his things in his cubby, and I calmly knelt down and said, "I'm going to go now..."

And sweet little Charlie's eyes got very, very, VERY big. He looked at me with two gigantic saucer eyes and shook his little head just ever so slightly, imploring me silently to not leave.

But I left. And as I walked out, Matt said, "Hey - should I get a picture?"

I hissed at him, "NO! Go! He's just about to cry!"

We walked out and I said,"Matt - do you think he's gonna be OK???"

Matt said, "Of course. George looked a little nervous, though..."

And I told Matt to go back and peek in to make Charlie was OK - but if Charlie saw him, I'd kill him.

Matt obliged and reported back that no, Charlie did not see him and yes, Charlie looked fine. As we walked to our cars, I said, "Let's say a little prayer for Charlie!"

Matt again obliged and then said, "You really worry about that little guy, don't you?"

****

When I picked Charlie up at 11, he said he had a great day. His teacher told me that he got sand in his eyes at recess. I asked if he was OK after I left and she said he was just great and had a terrific day (except for the sand in the eyes). I told her I thought he looked pretty scared when I left and she said, "I know, I wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen there, but he did GREAT."

I love that little man, he might be smaller than his backpack but he his my flippin' hero.

The Bat

2009-08-11T06:42:00.001-07:00

Looking back, I knew something was wrong when I put the clothes in the washer. As I threw in the dirty laundry, I heard something fall in with it. But I saw nothing as I glanced in the washer. So, I just slammed the lid shut, turned on the machine and left.

When we came back later in the day, I ran downstairs to the laundry room to switch out the wet clothes. As I scooped out a handful of wet laundry, I noticed a metal lint sock in there. "Ah-ha!" I thought, "that's what fell in this morning!"

Mystery solved, I kept transferring wet clothes to the dryer. But then out of the corner of my eye, I saw A BAT STUCK TO THE SIDE OF THE WASHING MACHINE! I slammed the lid shut and backed away in horror. Holy Moses! What the hell? A bat is in my washer? That's what I heard this morning. OH MY GOD! What if it's not dead? OH MY GOD! It's been spinning around with our clothes!

I exited the laundry room, giving my kids and their cousin a terse "Nothing horrifying is going on in there" smile as I ran upstairs to call my husband. I was stuttering as I tried to convey the carnage going on in our house. Ever the calm voice of reason, Matt simply said, "It's gotta be dead, right? Get a towel, pick it up, put it in a bag and throw it in the garbage outside." He thought for a moment and realized his husbandly duty necessitated an additional comment, "Or you can wait for me and I'll take care of it when I come home."

I, of course, took this as a challenge. There was no way I was leaving the vampire bat for Mr. Man to take care of. I was taking the situation into my own (heavily gloved) hands.

I finished feeding the kids lunch. Since I had three rambunctious boys in the house, and one crazy little girl, I decided to bring them in for back up. I took a deep breath and said, "Guys, I have some pretty scary news." They all perked up at this statement, looking at me expectantly. "There's a dead bat in the washing machine." Everyone lit up and shouted a chorus of, "Cool! Awesome! Ewwww! Can we see it?"

I told them I wanted their help. I explained that I was going to pick it up and put it in a garbage bag, but I would let them look at it first. I added that I was scared to death and may cry a little.

And so, armed with an astronaut helmet, a gladiators mask, a propeller hat and toy swords, a toy gun, and a Frisbee, the kids marched into the laundry room behind me. I cautiously opened the washer and pointed to the dead bat stuck to the side of the machine. Through helmets and masks, everyone took several looks and slowly filed out of the room. As I put on a heavy pink rubber glove and reached in for the bat with a dish towel, I looked at my five year-old Charlie,the last man standing. "OK bud, you hold open the garbage bag for me." I stood poised, trying to summon up the courage to touch the bat.

Charlie said in a tense voice, "MOM! Hurry up! GET IT!"

I started to cry a little, "Charlie! I'm so scared! I can't do it! OK! OK! Here I go! OHHHH! I can't do it! OK - here I go! EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! OH MY GOD - DISGUSTING!"

I grabbed the squishy, still warm bat and delicately dropped it in brave Charlie's open garbage bag.

"Let me see it, MOM!" Charlie said excitedly.

"No, I can't! I have to seal the bag - what if it's alive and comes out!" I said, a little hysterically.

Charlie, bored and disappointed, poked at the bat through the garbage bag and dejectedly left the laundry room. I ran the clothes through the hottest wash cycle possible multiple times that afternoon. And so our saga ended. The bat is out of this belfry. But, I can't help wondering, does he have any thrill seeking cam padres skulking around our appliances? Oh please, for the love of God, no! No!

My daughter is terrified of Dick Cheney

2009-07-30T06:17:00.000-07:00

We went to Madeline Island over the July 4th weekend and Clare will never be the same.

Madeline Island is a very artsy eclectic place and each Independence Day there is an amazing parade. Two years ago our boys rode on the Madeline Island Library float and we have wanted to get back for the festivities ever since.

So this year we made it up there. We stayed at our friends' cabin and got the boys back on the Library float. I walked along with the float so I was not able to witness The Incident.

Part of the parade's appeal are the contributions made by Madeline Island's bohemian artists. This year there was a several trailer long dragon float along with a fully costumed dance tribute choreographed to Micheal Jackson's Thriller. There was also a man dressed in a huge paper mache Dick Cheney head.

Matt and Clare encountered Dick Cheney along the parade route. He was dressed in hunter's camouflage and toting a shotgun. Apparently he snuck up on Matt and Clare from behind. When Clare spotted him she went mental - screaming and crying. Parade goers laughed at the spectacle as Matt yelled,"Get away Cheney - you're a bad man! Bad man!"

And now Cheney has become a favorite villain around our house. He turns up in all of our bedtime stories and even has been used by immature me as a threat.

"You better hurry up, Clare - or Cheney will get you!"

I think I'm gonna barf (or fart)...

2009-06-29T15:09:00.000-07:00

At our house we do not use the word fart. We use the word toot, instead. Once Charlie realized there was another word for tooting he was all over it. Or, at least, he wants to be all over it...

Charlie cannot keep the words "fart" and "barf" straight. He mixes them up all the time. Case in point, we were sitting in our boat, waiting for the log ride to start at Nickolodeon Universe at the Mall of America and Charlie looked at me and said, "Mom - I hope you don't fart!" I didn't realize until much later that evening that he was afraid I was going to barf, not fart. It sure made a lot more sense once I figured that one out...

And yesterday, Charlie tried an almond out of a bowl of almonds and honey nut cheerios that I was eating as a snack. He bit into the almond, grimaced and ran into the kitchen. When he returned and said, "Sorry Mom, I had to go fart that one out."

"BARF! You mean you had to BARF it out - FART means toot! BARF means throw up!" I screamed at him.

If you would have told me five years ago I would be having this conversation with my children, I never would have believed you...

The Start of Summer

2009-06-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

Uh-oh. Summer officially starts tomorrow at our house. George's last day of school is tomorrow. Then we have all three kids home for three months or so. Around twelve weeks. Ninety plus days. But who's counting.

We don't have a ton scheduled. No big trip is planned. None of the kids have any week long, full day camps. The boys have six weeks of Urban tennis (one hour a morning, just a block and a half away). George has two circus classes a week, Charlie just one. We will do swimming lessons at some point. But as for the rest of the summer - roughly 35 hours a week for twelve weeks, we will just play outside, explore the urban parks and recreation offerings, check out some cool places (zoo, museums, nature centers) and hopefully read some good books.

The more outings we have, the better summer will be for everyone. Just sitting around the house and playing in our backyard tends to get old fast. So, hopefully I will be a creative, active mom this summer. Three kids, twelve weeks, and no school can really go one of two ways...

George's Star Student Event...

2009-04-29T10:09:00.000-07:00

George had his Star Student Event today. He got to bring his family into his first grade class and talk about what makes him special.

Nana, Poppop, Aunt Peg, Charlie, Clare and I all went. George introduced us to his classmates in a very grown up manner. He had warned me beforehand that he would be introducing Poppop as Grandpa Michael. Nana was still Nana, but apparently Poppop was a little too exotic a title, so Grandpa Michael it was...

He started by writing his name up on the big piece of paper on the easel in huge bubble letters (very cool). Then he showed the class photos I had printed off of he and his dad, he and his siblings, and him in a fake jail cell in Arizona with "Wanted Dead or Alive" written across it.

He introduced my side of the family as his Minnesota family. Then, he explained how Matt is from New York and we have a New York family contingent as well. We played a DVD slideshow of our trip to Florida with the New York relatives. His class loved that the song, "If I Had a Million Dollars" was the soundtrack to the slideshow. They played air guitar and bounced along to it and even asked to see it again (which we vetoed) when it was done.

The class had a question and answer period where George was asked, "Why does your brother look so much like you?" (I answered, "Genetics"), "What is your favorite football team?" (George said NY Giants and Vikings - always the diplomat) and "What is your favorite movie and popsicle?" (Combo Question - Gremlins 2, Indianna Jones 4 and Lime). He was also asked what are his favorite shoes, to which he said, "Congresses", but meant Converse.

Then he went to the front of the class, posted three big sheets of paper with his mythical beast drawings. Each kid was given paper and instructed to create a mythical beast (George suggested a Tornado Monster) in pencil.

Charlie sat at George's table and drew with the kids. In typical Charlie fashion, his monster was tooting in his picture, so he leaned over to the girl next to him and said, "My monster is farting." To which the girl replied, "George! Did you hear what your brother just said???" It's a little disconcerting to me that Charlie was astute enough to know that although you say toot at our house, you have to say fart to the big kids...

The kids loved it. George loved it. And we really, really, really loved it.

Clare sans diaper...

2009-04-14T11:20:00.000-07:00

Clare has been using the potty pretty consistently. So consistently, in fact, that sometimes she just appears there. Out of the blue, there is Clare, perched on the potty with a smile on her face saying, "I pooped!"

I was sick yesterday and trying to nap upstairs while Charlie and Clare watched a show. Twice during my less than an hour long nap, Charlie appeared at the edge of the bed saying gravely, "I"ve got bad news. Clare's on the potty and she pooped." And then he'd run gleefully away knowing that I had to get up and come downstairs to wipe her bottom.

Little does he know, the fact that Clare pooped on the potty is great news, it's when she doesn't make it to the potty that it is truly bad news...

Already aspiring to a life of crime...

2009-04-08T16:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we were home sick with a horrible intestinal bug. I was trying to recuperate by lying on the sofa in the No Kids Zone. I had been up all night, sick as a dog. I just needed to sleep.

But alas, Charlie and Clare were full of energy, even though they too had been struck by the bug. I finally decided to put a movie on for them, in hope that I might get to close my eyes for awhile. But when I went to get the movie out of the case, it was not there. No one knew where it was. Overtired, sick and cranky I told the kids, "Blockbuster is not going to let us rent anymore movies if you keep losing them!"

I put in a different movie and sulkily stalked out of the room. Before I was out of earshot, I heard Charlie say to Clare, "Don't worry about it, Clare. We'll just put on disguises when we go to Blockbuster. We'll still get to rent movies..."

Clare may end up in reform school...

2009-03-24T14:05:00.000-07:00

Clare is off the hook crazy. She is in almost constant motion - jumping, bouncing, running, climbing - and NEVER seems to stop talking. She also screams to make herself heard and cannot be reasoned with (at two and a half years old I suppose this is to be expected).

I am so tired by the time she goes to bed. Literally, she and I are together the majority of her waking hours. And she is very, very high maintenance. Even when she says she is helping me. Today I attempted to fold laundry. She screamed over and over again that she had to help. Her version of helping is taking the items I have folded and shaking them open and throwing them on the floor. When I empty the dishwasher, she just starts grabbing utensils and cramming them into drawers, while perching precariously on the dishwasher door.

I try to give her chores to perform along side of me. A few towels to fold, spoons to put away. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't. But every night at some point, she is asleep in her bed and I am alone at last...

What do you do again?

2009-03-24T13:59:00.000-07:00

Last Thursday, Charlie, Clare and I went to see Matt. It was a spur of the moment get together, our usual plans fell through and we called Matt to see if he wanted to have a cup of coffee with us. Surprisingly, he said yes. He is usually way too busy to see us during the day, but the planets must have been aligned because he had about a half hour to grab a cup of coffee with us.

As we drove to meet him at the coffee shop near his work, I told the kids what a special treat it was to be able to go see daddy during work. It was silent for a moment and then Charlie said, "I didn't know dad worked at a coffee shop..."

We love Mr. Cheese...

2009-02-23T15:04:00.000-08:00

Charlie was invited to a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese's today. He was sooooooo excited - bordering on hyperventilation.

We got there and I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. It was quite big and very clean. And the arcade games were age appropriate. Each summer when we go to Long Beach Island (on the Jersey Shore) we go to an arcade. And it just about kills me. It is dark and depressing. The kids are too little for the majority of the games so it is very frustrating. I am not very good at video games, so I am pretty much useless in an arcade.

But at Chuck E. Cheese's, the games are age appropriate for our kids (and more importantly for me). We had a blast. Charlie ran around the place with his cup of tokens clutched to his chest like a senior citizen in a casino. He played a bunch of different games and truly enjoyed himself. Clare kept getting in the mechanical cars that shake you up for two minutes after you put in your token. She loved it. She'd appear periodically yelling, "I need a coin! Gimme a coin!" And then back into the mechanical car lot she'd go...

Mr. Cheese throws a great party. We had a terrific afternoon. George is super mad, however, that he did not get to go since he was in school. I am thinking we will have to go visit Mr. Cheese with the whole family one night soon...

This is a test...

2009-01-30T14:16:00.000-08:00

I always kind of wonder who, if anyone reads this stuff I write about the kids.

So, here is a test.

Just between you and me, Clare pooped in the No Kids Zone.

The No Kids Zone is Matt's office where he watches TV, reads all his political bloggers and stays relatively (although far from entirely) kid-free after a long hard day at work...

Well, today I was doing a work out DVD in the living room and Clare and Charlie were watching a show in the NKZ. Clare had no diaper on, because she had just pooped in the potty. I was in the midst of doing this DVD work out so I just took off her diaper and pulled up her pants thinking she would be just fine - if anything she might tinkle, but no big deal.

Boy, was I wrong. About fifteen minutes later (this is a 45 minute workout), Clare screamed. Then Charlie yelled, "CLARE JUST POOPED IN HER PANTS!" I literally had 3 minutes left in the workout, so I said, "Clare meet me in the bathroom."

I finished the DVD and went into the bathroom. I took off her pants, wiped her cute little heiney and looked for the poop. It wasn't in her pants, it wasn't on the bathroom floor, it wasn't in the potty. So I wandered into the No Kids Zone. There was a little poo on the hard wood floor, but still not enough to have made both of them declare she had pooped in her pants. As I cleaned up the minimal poo off the floor, I saw it. My heart stopped - her poop was squashed into the No Kids Zone carpet. Not only had she pooped on the floor, SHE STEPPED IN IT!

Horrified, I whisked the poop up off the carpet, ran and grabbed a sponge and scrubbed the carpet. I got it all out and worked hard to irradicate the smell.

I told the children they may not speak to their dad of this. This is my experiment to see if He Who Rules the Roost reads my blog....

I kind of hope he doesn't...

My love affair with Charles...

2009-01-30T05:44:00.000-08:00

Charlie is very special. First of all he is SUPER FUNNY. He has natural comedic timing and an infectious laugh. He's the kind of guy that repeats the funny lines from movies at just the right moment in a conversation. He uses funny voices and has a knack for making faces.

But the best thing about Charlie is that he is a lover. He is my one and only kid that seeks me out at different times during the day for a quick snuggle. Out of nowhere he will give me a huge hug or seventeen kisses. He tells me not to tell anyone, so if you see him, please don't mention that you read this on my blog.

The most special thing about Charlie, though, is that at age 5 he seems to sense just when his mom really needs a hug. I've tried to express to him how much I appreciate his surprise hugs and kisses, but his response is always, "Don't tell Dad!" Apparently Dad gets jealous when he finds out Charles has been lavishing the love on me instead of oh him.

Oh yeah, Charlie is a handful, but he sure makes me feel good when he puts that tiny little face up to mine, kisses me for the umpteenth time and says, "Remember - don't tell Dad!, right before he scurries off to findhis siblings...

A bloody mess...

2009-01-28T10:49:00.000-08:00

Last night, Matt went out to see a Wild game with a client. The kids and I watched a movie (The Incredibles). Clare was particularly hyper...

I left the living room to get a pair of knitting needles for a project and was just about to send a quick email (I had been out of the room for 30 to 45 seconds at this point), when I heard a loud CRASH followed by a piercing scream.

Clare came running into the No Kids Zone (our adult room. office, whatever) holding the back of her head. I went to hug her and looked at the "owie". Much to my HORROR there was blood all over the back of her head.

My heart jumped into my throat, all my extremities went tingly and I kept telling myself to act calm, act calm, ACT CALM!!!

I walked her into the kitchen and put a wet dish towel on the back of her head, hugging her to my chest. The boys came in dancing around asking what happened, is she bleeding, what do we do, what do we do???? I told them in my Fake Calm Voice that it was OK, they needed to hand me the phone so that I could call daddy.

I pulled the towel away and there was A Lot of Blood. I called Matt and told him what was happening (with Wild fans cheering in the background). I told him it was OK, I thought the bleeding was slowing down but that it was hard to see the actual cut because of her hair. He told me to see if I could get the bleeding to stop and call back.

At this point, George asked if he could go finish the movie. And Charlie set out the kitchen timer, turned it on and said that it was to see how long it was before Clare stopped bleeding.

Clare nursed herself to a calm whimper and I was able to see that the bleeding had stopped. I sat with Clare and watched the end of the movie with the boys. She danced a little in my lap at the good songs.

I put everyone to bed and when she was asleep I crept in to see how bad it was - I still couldn't really see the cut but the bleeding was done and she seemed fine (breathing, sleeping peacefully). So I texted Matt and told him we would have to examine it when he got home.

He told me Good Work.

I never told him that I almost vomited and/or passed out when I saw her bleeding like that....

The Alligator did it...

2009-01-18T19:16:00.000-08:00

About a week ago, Clare woke up in the middle of the night yelling, "An alligator bit me!"

It is not unusual for Clare to yell strange things at night. She has also woken us up screaming, "I want my Yo-Yo!" and "I want a baby show!"

But yelling that an alligator bit her was a new one. The next day we asked her about it and she insisted that an alligator had bit her finger in the middle of the night. She told everyone about it. She told my mom and dad. She told my friends. She even told strangers about it.

A few days later, Clare came running into the No Kids Zone (where Matt and I were watching TV). She had a piece of wood in her hand that had come off of the TV cabinet in the living room. As she ran in she said, "Daddy! Look! It came off!"

Matt sternly asked her, "Who broke that wood off the TV shelf?"

Clare's eyes got big and she backed up a little, looked at her feet and said, "The alligator."

Matt and I looked at each other and tried very hard not to laugh out loud. And Matt asked, "The alligator did it, Clare?"

To which she defiantly answered, "MY alligator did it."

Interestingly enough, since that day, Clare's alligator has done several things, including putting the hand towel in the downstairs bathroom sink, getting it soaking wet and swinging it around the room...

Damn alligator.

The Difference with Girls

2009-01-16T07:16:00.001-08:00

Clare is potty training. She is two and a half and potty training. This is absolutely amazing to me on a number of different levels.

After potty training George and Charlie, I must admit I am very jaded about the whole potty training experience.

George did not fully potty train until after three years old. He was trained for peeing by three, but continued to poop in a pull up until he was publicly shamed by a room full of little girls at a party. He had asked for a pull up to poop in while he still played and the girls freaked out. I could see the wheels slowly turn and engage as he realized that pooping in your pants is just no good. He was fully potty trained from that day on.

Charlie had no interest in potty training until shortly before his third birthday when he suddenly woke up and began using the potty. He had very few accidents and was trained in no time. Prior to that, however, when I tried to train him and he wasn't ready he had all kinds of accidents...

George, too had millions of accidents on the road to potty training. It is a messy, discouraging endeavor.

But then there is Clare. Clare is essentially potty training herself. For the last month, she has asked to go on the potty saying she has to go 'poop-ee". Poop-ee is a catchall term for her bodily functions as she does not seem to know which is which. Because she is two and a half, I have been very skeptical of these trips to the potty. I go through the motions, put her on the potty and expect nothing.

But again and again she surprises me. Many times in the last month she has climbed on the potty and successfully peed. She has even pooped several times. I cannot express how different an experience this is for me. The boys just were so difficult that the bar is set so low. And each time I hear that tinkle of her peeing in the potty I am just so amazed. And when she gets off the potty and there is a poop I am totally floored.

Now, because I am so jaded about this whole thing, we are not doing the whole "now she gets to wear underwear until she has an accident" thing. I have to admit, the few times I have put her in underpants, or even just pulled up her regular pants with no diaper after a successful potty episode, she had inevitably pooped. And that is just a pain to deal with. Especially when it happens just as we are leaving the house, rushing George off to school (twice it has happened just like that).

In fact, in the spirit of full disclosure, I must admit that earlier this week Clare had no diaper on after using the potty (I had just pulled her pants back up for the time being while I got things ready for us to leave the house). Suddenly, I heard the bathroom door slam, and Clare yelled, "I'm not POOPING!"

Which of course, made me run to the bathroom and throw open the door in alarm. And there was Clare with great big eyes, staring at me in horror. Then, she dejectedly hung her little head and said, "I pooped." And sure enough, there on the floor was a Clare poop, one that had slid out her pant leg.

Oh, no, she is not fully potty trained and it promises to be a messy road to get there. But she still does surprise me each time she runs naked out of the bathroom punching her fists in the air, yelling, "I did it! I did it!"

Girls Day Out

2009-01-15T18:11:00.000-08:00

Today I took Clare to my hair stylist for a haircut. Clare is very cute, but she has fine, flyaway blond hair that makes her look disheveled at best, insane at worst...

I got a haircut on Tuesday and asked Allen (my hair stylist) if he would cut a two year old's hair. He told me to bring her in. So today after Charlie went to preschool, Clare and I went to Allen L Salon.

Clare hid from Allen when we walked in. I had coached her on the way there to say, "Hi Allen!" Which she said she would. She didn't. She hid behind my legs. Allen is a very nice, mild-mannered Chinese man. I doubt he could scare anyone. Clare was scared.

Allen said very nice things to Clare. He told her she was pretty (like her mom - thanks Allen!). Clare still hid. He told her he would give her a great haircut. Still in hiding. Finally, Allen told me to sit in the chair with her in my lap. He went to go put warm water in his spray bottle (it was like -5 degrees outside at this point) so he wouldn't shock her when he spritzed her hair.

I made faces in the mirror. I made her clap her hands. I had her laughing. Until Allen came back. Clare was struck mute.

Clare sat nicely while Allen trimmed her hair. But she never said a word and she was very distrustful of what Allen was doing with a scissors near her head. She made Allen work hard for his money - refusing to tilt her chin to her chest so he could give her the Christopher Robin bob I love so much.

About 15 minutes later Allen was blow drying Clare's fine hair. One minute later Clare was spinning at high speed around my feet while I wrote Allen a check. Then she darted around trying to avoid getting dressed in her coat, mittens and hat. Allen (who has a nine year old son) said, "Clare - if you don't get your things on, you'll have to stay here with me!" Clare quickly got her coat, hat and mittens on and got the hell out of there.

Later she told Poppop,"I got a haircut. The boys DID NOT get haircuts. I got a haircut."

Girls day out was really fun...

I broke my own rule

2009-01-11T18:20:00.000-08:00

We got the kids a Wii for Christmas. They not only got the Wii, and the Wii Sports package that came with it, but we even added a few extra games. Matt and the boys immediately started playing Wii Sports together, but I really am not good at video games so I didn't want to play.

Until Huck and Laura came over. Huck is a good friend of Matt's - a young man, an artist - he's very sweet and funny. When he heard the boys got a Wii, he wanted to come over and play with them. So, he and Laura came over for dinner armed with their own Wii remotes and a game called MarioKart.

Because I wanted to be a good hostess, I went down to into the basement with Huck, Laura and the boys and played MarioKart. The first few times I raced (MarioKart is a racing game) I didn't even know which car I was. But I was hooked. I just kept trying and trying - I loved it!

I loved it so much that I wanted to play the Wii with the boys first thing the next morning. After we got up, I went downstairs with them to start playing. We played MarioParty (one of the games we got for them). I was so excited to get started, I was giddy! But once we began playing I had no idea what was going on. I kept asking George and Charlie and they just got mad at me. They intuitively know how to play and find it impossible to describe the rules in words. I got fed up fast and went back upstairs.

I realized quickly what the problem was - we don't have a racing game! MarioKart is what I love and it slid out of my grasp when Huck and Laura departed.

Now I was in a pickle. I told the kids we would not be getting any new Wii games until after we get back from vacation in March (due to extreme post-Christmas guilt). But I want MarioKart! I want to race again! Now!

So, I started quietly floating a trial balloon - I told the kids that I really wanted to get them MarioKart but we weren't supposed to get any new games for awhile. George thought about this for and suggested we ask Dad - "Maybe if we don't get any new games until after vacation EXCEPT MarioKart it will be OK..."

Later, I told George, that we could ask Dad, but Dad might say no. George smiled and said, "I bet he won't..."

OK, so this is me being highly manipulative. I know Matt won't say no, Matt has no post-Christmas guilt. I could pretty much ask Matt for anything for me or the kids and he would be OK with it (especially if it means we'll be busy for awhile and he can have a moment of peace). I just wanted the kids to think I was trying to stick to our "no games until after vacation rule", and that it was them and Dad that were twisting my arm to get the game. But really it was all part of my master plan.

So, on Saturday, we went to our local Target to buy MarioKart. They were out - they called around and located one at the East St. Paul store. Matt NEVER would have driven to a secondary location to buy the game - he would have just got something else for them instead. George even said, let's just get something else. But no, Mama wanted MarioKart so off we trekked to East St. Paul.

And we bought it, rushed home and started playing. It was about twenty minutes later that the bad karma I had generated (by manipulating my way around my own rule set up to combat over-indulgence in my children) bit me in the ass - or rather in the head. For some reason, after playing just under a half hour I was struck down with a tumorours headache of collosal proportions. My head hurt so bad that I had to take a nap. I have not played MarioKart since.

Oh, but I plan to, and I plan to get better and better at racing until I am the Mignogna family champion!!!!

Clare's Preschool Debut...

2008-12-09T15:05:00.000-08:00

This story should really be about Charlie. Today was his birthday celebration at preschool. He got to bring in a special snack (M&M Cookies) and Clare and I got to come in and read the class a book. Charlie was adorable today - he stood up in front of the class while the Beatle's birthday song played refusing to crack a smile, but with eyes dancing with glee. He passed out the cookies to each child, confident and proud like the five year old he has become.

But Clare really stole the show. After reading the story, Charlie's teacher commented on how good Clare was sitting with us at the front of the class. This was while Clare was bellied up to the snack table banging back milk like nobody's business.

After snack, all the kids went to the carpet to sit and enjoy Jethro Tull's Christmas Album (which totally rocks). Clare made a bee line to the chairs in front of the carpet (where the teacher sits). I tried to convince her to sit with Charlie and me on the carpet, but she refused. She sat right down next to the teacher and clapped her hands and answered questions with the class and basically looked like a mini Ms. Sue.

I was amazed. She starts preschool next fall (right after turning three) and I have to say I still think of her as so LITTLE that I was kind of wondering if she will be ready.

Oh, yeah, she's ready. Ready to teach the class...

The Bus Stop

2008-12-08T14:45:00.000-08:00

I will forever lament our daily trudge to the bus stop.

Each morning I rush the kids into the mudroom, put shoes, coats, mittens, hats, snowpants, and boots on the two littlest (I don't know who is worse - Charlie goofing off and not getting ready or Clare screaming at me to get her ready faster). George is pretty self-sufficient, but he gets sidetracked by Charlie's antics and tends to walk out the door without his backpack or at the last minute realize he forgot to put his lunch in his lunchbox.

Then, after they burst through the door like bulls out of a pen, inevitably Clare falls flat on her face or Charlie gets upset because he dropped his Pokemon cards he decided he had to bring to the bus stop.

Usually George and Charlie walk quickly, with purpose, to the bus. But Clare will suddenly stand completely still causing Charlie to ask if she is frozen solid. I then have to pick her up and carry her which is a lot like carrying a wrapped Honeybaked Spiral-Cut Ham. When we cross the first intersection, either Charlie or Clare dawdle in the middle of the street, prompting me to herd them across with calls of, "Guys! Look alive! You are in an intersection! Come on - cross, CROSS!"

Then, once at the bus stop, I have to remind them that our job is to wait for the bus, not to play tag, run around in circles, or twirl around the stop sign (all activities that end up with one or more of my kids flat on their backs).

Finally, the bus comes! George gets on and we start the slow, less harried, walk back home. Oh, but did I mention that we do this all over again at 3:50 when George gets off the bus??? This is truly a part of parenting I will never forget...

Charlie is 5!

2008-12-08T07:03:00.000-08:00

Charlie had his 5th birthday party at the Como Zoo yesterday. It was awesome.

He was in the best mood all day and just laughing and smiling throughout his party. He had all the boys from his preschool class, his buddies Harry and Grace, and his new friend Ava there. And Nana and Poppop, Megan, George and Sarah, Carey and Tim, and my friends Erin and Renee.

It was so much fun. There was a party room with decorations, zoo-themed games and a great facilitator named Dave teaching us about the primates at the zoo. Then we all went to the Primate House for a tour of the animals there. After looking at the monkeys and gorillas we went back for cake and pizza and presents.

I had a blast, Matt had a blast and most importantly - Charlie LOVED it. He wasn't even disappointed when the monkeys didn't eat pizza and cake with us - which is what he thought a Primate Party must be....

The Smallest Robot Dance Ever...

2008-11-12T09:29:00.000-08:00

Today I was volunteering in George's first grade class and Kennedy's family was there introducing her as Start Student of the Week. As part of their presentation they played the Macarena and all the kids were supposed to dance.

George is super shy about dancing in front of people. I looked over at him and was horrified to see that he was frozen in place staring at the floor while every other kid danced. It was painful for me to watch sweet George standing rigidly still while all the other kids Macarena-ed. After several minutes passed, Kennedy's dad said he would pick the best dance and everyone should do their best dancing EVER. At that moment, I saw dear George, in the midst of a sea of Macarena-ing children, perform the tiniest, most self-contained, barely noticeable Robot Dance ever. He likes the Robot Dance and can be cajoled into doing it at times at home. But alas, as George did his oh-so-conservative rendition of the Robot Dance, a classmate taunted, "Not that! Do the Macarena!"

My heart sunk - that bastard - how dare he squelch George's courageous foray into creative movement! But, much to my surprise, a healthy dose of peer pressure got George to try the Macarena! And he looked like it wasn't killing him to do it, although he was definitely far from enjoying it.

A little later, all the children were allowed to free dance. Again, George was frozen solid with a look of horror as he stared at his feet. I couldn't handle it. He once again was the ONLY kid not dancing. I started to walk over to him to tell him he could just run around if he wanted. But right before I made it over to him, he joined a Conga Line.

I cannot express how much I love my little neurotic Robot Dancing George. It makes my heart hurt...

Why Matt's the coolest guy I know...

2008-11-06T13:32:00.000-08:00

Last week George came home from school and told me two kids ran into him on the playground and everyone laughed at him.

I asked if he cried when they ran into him and he said he did - that's why they all laughed. I told him how wrong those kids were and that I was sorry that had happened. I told Matt all about it and he said he would talk to George, too.

The next day I asked Matt if he had talked to George. When he said he did, I got a little nervous about what he had said. So I casually asked what he told George.

Matt told me he told George the he's getting the age where kids make fun of boys that cry and that things like this were going to happen. But he also told George that he can always come to his dad to cry - no matter what.

I was astounded. I told Matt that I had been a little nervous about what he would tell George about boys and crying and that I was amazed at how wonderful a thing he did. I told him that is why I love him so much and asked, "How did you know to say that????"

Matt smiled and said, "I'm just winging it..."

It starts bright and early for Clare...

2008-11-06T07:26:00.000-08:00

The other morning, I woke up with Clare in the twin bed in her room. I wanted to get up before her and so I tried to sneak out of bed. I heard her stir and dropped down all fours right by the bed. The next thing I knew, Clare was peaking over the bed at me with a huge smile on her face saying, "I found you Mommy!"

OBAMA!

2008-11-05T15:46:00.001-08:00

Yesterday morning I announced to our family that I wanted to poll everyone to see who they would be voting for. I started by asking Clare, thinking she would make us laugh by saying something nonsensical, since she is two...

Upon being asked, "Who are you voting for, Clare?" She yelled, "Barack OBAMA!!!"

She is one smart two year old...

A Surprise Visit from Aunt Pat

2008-10-21T16:34:00.001-07:00

Two weekends ago, Aunt Pat made a surprise trip to St. Paul. We took her with us on an afternoon outing to the Pumpkin Patch. Pat navigated the Corn Maze like an expert. Clare and I bailed after two seconds because I realized Clare is tiny enough to scurry off onto the unmowed corn rows and could very easily be lost forever.

We picked lovely pumpkins, ate delicious apple donuts and finally had Aunt Pat all to ourselves! What a day it was...

George in A Question and Answer Period

2008-10-01T20:41:00.000-07:00

Today I was fortunate enough to be in George's classroom when his friend Jacob's dad told the class about Jacob's Epilepsy. The point of the presentation was that Jacob is just like every other kid, he just sometimes has seizures and has to take special medicine, but it really is no big deal.

The presentation was followed by a Question and Answer period. George immediately raised his hand high and said, "Ummm, I have asthma. And I don't like it..."

This unleashed a series of comments from other children talking about their ailments (not unlike social hour at a nursing home). The culmination of this hypochondriac's club occurred when a little girl said, "Uh, I had a rash once..."

Still, although the audience seemed highly self-centered in their response to the presentation, the wonderful part was that really they see no difference between Jacob's epilepsy and their own garden variety colds and flu. Which was the point - we all have something and it's really no big deal...

A Hero Among Men...

2008-10-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

The other night George was going to bed and Matt asked him what he thought of Charlie. Because Charlie is somewhat of a Nintendo DS whiz, George was feeling very fond of him that night. Very seriously, George looked Matt straight in the eye and replied, "Charlie is one of the greatest men I've ever met..."

Clare is Blotchy

2008-09-28T11:38:00.000-07:00

Poor Clare. On Friday, Clare was little under the weather - she had a runny nose and a low-grade fever. Then, Saturday morning, she woke up with little red spots all over her body. Charlie immediately diagnosed her with the chicken pox. However, the nurse line did not concur. They felt it was a viral rash that simply needed to run it's course.

Clare's illness was mysterious enough for Matt and I to cancel our much-looked-forward-to over night stay at the new W hotel in Minneapolis. Disappointing to say the least, but how could we leave her with babysitters when she had a bizarre skin rash?

This morning she woke up with even more of a rash, still no itching, but some swelling. So we called the nurse line again and took her in to Urgent Care. Remarkably, although her little body looks red and mottled, she is perfectly content. Nonetheless, I took her in to be seen. The doctor we saw was an odd duck, as he seemed unfamiliar with both his surroundings (couldn't find anything) and with children. But he diagnosed Clare's rash as a case of hives caused by yeast in her mouth. Why she has yeast on the roof of her mouth, he couldn't say, but it is treatable and not uncommon for children to have.

So, now we will put drops in her mouth for the next ten days and give her Benadryl (even thought she doesn't seem itchy). It's not contagious, so we can go about our usual routine. But it is mysterious in it's origin. Maybe she's been doing shots of those packets of baking yeast dissolved in warm water when no one is looking...

Oh Clare, Clare, Clare, Clare, Clare...

2008-09-17T17:43:00.000-07:00

Clare is insane. And two. Which is really redundant.

Lately she has taken to insisting on buckling herself into her carseat. Which she cannot do. Which means that almost every car trip begins with, "ME BUCKLE ME! ME BUCKLE ME!" And then she tries to buckle herself for many frustrating minutes, after which she desolves into tears and I buckle her.

Last week, her obsession was not with buckling herself in, but instead with locking and unlocking doors. Do you see where this is going? Everytime we went to the car she would yell, "I LOCK IT!" And I would let her push the button on the key fob and unlock the door. So, we were leaving her pediatrician's office (2 year check up) and she wanted to Lock It. I put her in her seat and let her play with the key fob while I buckled her in. Then, I reached to the front, turned on the car and the air and jumped out the back to hop in the front.

But I slammed the back door shut. And it locked. And the front door was locked. And I was locked out. And the care was running.

My cell phone was locked in the car, along with Clare and the keys. Amazingly, I did not FREAK OUT, but instead calmly asked a woman in a nearby car if I could use her phone. She called the police and they came out. I was due to pick up Charlie in 20 minutes, so I also called Matt. Long story short, the cops came and could only break a window, so Matt drove the twenty minutes to unlock the door after calling Charlie's preschool to tell them the predicament we were in.

Clare did not cry for 15 of the 30 minutes she was locked in the car for - but she made up for it in those last fifteen. She was furious at me, yelling, "Open DOOR!" and "I WANT MY MOMMY!" When I explained that I could not unlock the door, she yelled, "KEYS RIGHT THERE!" pointing furiously at the ignition.

When Matt rescued her, she clamored angrily for me and nursed for the next 20 minutes. But the psychological impact seems slight so far. Needless to say I do not let her play with the keys anymore and I never let all doors be closed at once with only Clare in the car...

George Plays Hardball

2008-09-08T19:34:00.000-07:00

We have a neighbor boy that is left to roam around town unsupervised much of the time. He is a year older than George and ends up in our yard a lot. He is a nice boy, and the kids like him, so sometimes he stays and plays.

One day, both he and his older brother came over. I told George that he and Charlie could play with them as long as they stayed in our yard. I kept checking on them out the kitchen window because Clare was still napping. I told George, quietly before I went back in the house, that these boys were older than him and if they wanted to do something that he wasn't sure I would allow, he needed to come and tell me.

A little later, I looked out the window and saw George talking to the older boy, who had a realistic-looking cap gun sticking out of a mesh pocket in his backpack. I overheard George say to him, in a very serious tone, "Um, hey - we don't allow guns on these premises...."

A Mom by any other name...

2008-08-08T09:01:00.000-07:00

Clare is smart. She turns two on August 21, but her wisdom surpasses her years.

She has noticed that when I am really determined to get my children to listen to me I use their last name. Like, "George Mignogna - get over here now!" Or, "Clare Mignogna - I SAID NO!" And most often, "CHARLES MIGNOGNA! STOP THAT RIGHT NOW!!!"

So, when she really wants me, she adds my last name, too.

Yesterday, she woke up from her nap and was calling for me. I, however, did not answer because I was outside with the boys. So, she got up, walked downstairs (crying) and called for me.

By the time I heard her, she was sitting on the stairs yelling, "MOMMY NONA!!!! MOMMY NONA!!! I want MOMMY NONA!!!"

Heartbreaking, yet very, very smart...

The Bakken Museum

2008-07-22T15:39:00.000-07:00

We went to the Bakken Museum today - a science museum started by the founder of Medtronic. It is right by Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis - a beautiful old mansion tucked away with a beautiful garden area.

We met Jenna - the kids favorite babysitter, who is just the most lovely and smart young woman - and the kids she is nannying this summer. The boys were thrilled to see Jenna and immediately took to Maddie and Julia. Clare was shy at first, but so happy to see Jenna. We had never met the girls before, but we had met Nathan, who has cerebral palsy and is in a wheel chair. He is so sweet - he got such a kick out of baby Clare running around and getting into trouble. It was so great to hear Nathan laugh as he watched baby Clare tearing around the museum.

The Bakken Museum was great, the kids tried all the exhibits - all geared to teach you about electricity. They even have electric eels in aquariums to look at.

We spent the afternoon there and even got to go outside and explore the gardens which have a beautiful fountain in a pond with oversize, exotic goldfish.

We certainly are lucky - we have great friends like Jenna, we get to spend an afternoon with wonderful kids like Maddie, Julia and Nathan. And we live in the Twin Cities where gorgeous, old mansions are tucked away by the lakes and set up for kids to learn and explore science... who knew?

Muffin Making

2008-07-20T07:34:00.000-07:00

I made muffins this morning. Matt is out golfing and we have no food in the house. I decided to make pancakes for the boys and they emphatically said NO. They apparently hate pancakes.

So I pulled out Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything and made Basic Muffins (soley because I had nothing to add in to the basic recipe). I doubled the sugar to sweeten them up (Bittman prefers his muffins less sweet). I even sprinkled sugar liberally over the top of each muffin.

Here is what went wrong:

1. My kids are SUPER picky so anything new is doomed to fail.

2. These are old fashioned muffins, not the breakfast cupcakes served in every coffee shop in the U.S.

3. Charlie is sensitive this morning.

4. I really am not that good of a cook.

Here is what happened:

1. Before even tasting them, Charlie decided he actually wanted pancakes and started to cry (angrily).

2. George and Clare liked eating the butter I spread on their muffins better than the actual muffins.

3. It was a flop.

But, Charlie did take one taste of a muffin (albeit miniscule) and then decided he hated them. And sweet George pretended to love them, liberally buttered them and probably only had 3 bites.

Martha Stewart I am not. But it still was a fun thing to do, and although my kids are ungrateful, the muffins really were pretty boring...

Graduating to Chapter Books

2008-07-12T19:21:00.000-07:00

Today George started his first chapter book. We went to the book store so that he could pick out his first ever chapter book to read by himself.

It took FOREVER for him to pick one - he kept getting distracted and trying to convince me to buy him a Pokemon Handbook (mostly illustrations) instead. Finally, after Clare melted down because I wouldn't buy her a Diego backpack or a Cars purse, and Charlie tried to buy a young adult novel, George picked his first chapter book - Franny K. Stein, Mad Scientist.

We got home and he immediately started reading. Charlie went with Matt to the grocery store, so Clare, George and I were alone. George and Clare would go upstairs (where George would read out loud from his chapter book to Clare) and periodically George ran down to announce, "I'm on chapter 3 now!" or "I'm up to chapter 6!" Then he would run back up yelling to Clare, "Uppy! Uppy! Let's go back uppy and I'll read to you more, baby!"

The Chapdelaine's came over for dinner, and George showed his new book to Grace. I got the idea of trying George on a chapter book (versus a picture book) from Carey, who said Grace reads them all the time.

At one point, I saw George running around the backyard, carrying his new book with a leaf marking his place. He was so excited to be with Grace, but still was reading when he could. By the end of the evening, the two of them were on a bean bag reading his new book.

I am so proud of him. I don't know why, but it makes tears come to my eyes. Maybe it's because I love books so much and he just looked like such a big boy carrying that book. It sure was fun having him go off and read a chapter and then come running down to me so excited about his progress. It's like I have a kindred spirit - Nerds of the family - UNITE!

He even told me to come upstairs with him to read it. I had been reading a magazine and he said, "Come on up and read this with me - your just looking at the pictures in that magazine, anyway..."

Clare Poops in Karen's Yard

2008-07-07T17:53:00.000-07:00

On Saturday the kids and I were playing in the wading pool (appropriately called the Party Pool by it's manufacturer and thus lovingly referred to as such by us as well). Clare had gotten sick of the Party Pool and was hanging out by our neighbor's fence. She was still in her swimsuit with no diaper underneath it (in retrospect not such a good idea).

She was hanging onto the fence watching our neighbors play in their pool when suddenly she hunched over. I should have known - she always poops when she is off playing quietly by herself! I saw something brown coming out of the seat of her suit. I flew over to where she was and ripped off her swimsuit hoping to prevent further disaster. Next thing I knew, she was naked, the suit was in my hand, but there was no poop. I was beflumoxed. How could there be no poop? I had seen it with my own eyes...

Then for some reason, I glanced into the neighbor's yard. There, on just the other side of the fence, was a Clare poop.

I was horrified. Just feet away from the poop were our neighbors playing in their pool. We love our neighbors. They are the nicest family. They are so kind and their children are so well-behaved. My immediate reaction to seeing Clare's poop in their yard was an irrational need to make sure they never know this happened. I was instantly consumed with the need to hide this incident from them forever. I ran into the house and grabbed a plastic bag and flew back outside to scoop her poop up just like a dog doo.

I didn't even tell George and Charlie (who were standing just a few feet away in our backyard) what had happened until hours later.

The rest of the day Matt and I would ask Clare, "Did you poop in Karen's yard?" To which she would reply with a shy little nod, "Yes."

The Silent G...

2008-07-07T17:48:00.000-07:00

Last Tuesday I swore in front of the kids. We were rushing off somewhere and they were not listening very well. As I was loading them into the car, I ended up saying, "Get your goddamn fingers off of that!"

I was immediately remorseful. As we drove off, I told them I was sorry I had said a bad word.

They immediately perked up. Charlie asked, "What bad word did you say?" I started laughing and replied, "If you don't remember, I am not going to repeat it!"

George then asked what letter the bad word started with. I told him a G.

Charlie, excited, yelled. "Did you say Oh For Pete's Sake?"

Laughing, I said, "Yes, that is exactly what I said." To which George replied, "Oh, that starts with a silent G..."

Clare Sounds the Alarm..

2008-06-26T18:42:00.000-07:00

Last week, Aunt Peg watched the kids while I went to get a haircut (yayyyyy Aunt Peg!). When I got back, she told me the following story about Clare.

Peg had put Clare in a running stroller while she was playing around in the yard with the boys. All of the sudden the stroller started rolling towards our back alley with Clare still in it. Alarmed, Clare started yelling, "OH NO! BABY! ALLEY! NO! NO! BABY! ALLEY! NO!"

Aunt Peg, of course, saved the day by running and grabbing the stroller before it actually entered the alley.

Each time I have told this story since that day, Clare smiles and quietly says, "Baby. Alley. No-no..."

Clare Makes A Break for it...

2008-06-24T17:22:00.000-07:00

Clare and I checked out a new toy store on Monday. We had to get a gift for Dylan's birthday and decided to go to a new shop - Wonderment - on Grand Avenue. While we were in there, the saleswoman was kind enough to show Clare a wooden cart that she could push around the store with a dolly in it. Clare contentedly pushed the doll around in the cart for the full fifteen minutes or so that it took me to find a gift for Dylan.

When it was time to go, Clare got a wild look in her eyes and started to wheel the cart, rapidly, towards the front door. As the saleswoman and I told her to stop, she picked up speed, and pushed the cart full force out the door, careening wildly toward our van. The clerk and I ran after her, and watched helplessly as she rammed the cart into the side of the van.

As I explained calmly that we had to give the cart and doll back to the nice woman, Clare started to stomp and cry. The saleswoman kindly suggested that Clare wheel the doll back into the store by herself. Clare did this, and upon entering the store she carefully parked the cart and doll back in their original spot. I told her she was a good girl, and Clare emboldened by the praise, screamed, "THANK YOU! BYE! THANK YOU! BYE!" at the woman.

The woman, holding a little blanket in her hand, then said, "Bye-bye, the dolly is going night-night now." Which made Clare decide to try to grab and steal the blanket. We wrestled that away from her and I got her to the car by promising her a big cookie at the coffee shop...

Charlie-ism...

2008-06-11T15:27:00.000-07:00

Charlie has a unique perspective on things. Last weekend, Charlie and Matt drove by a tree that had fallen on a car during a storm. When they got home and told me all about it, Charlie thought for a moment and added, "Yeah, there was a tree on top of a car and it's not even Christmas time..."

Charlie's just looking out for me...

2008-05-29T19:51:00.001-07:00

Charlie, Clare and I were playing with our Yoga Pretzels deck of cards today - you pick cards out of the deck and have to do the yoga poses you choose. Charlie is actually quite a little yogi - he bends his little body into whatever poses I do. Clare tries the poses, but usually just lies flat and breathes really hard.

Charlie picked a "rainbow" pose, which requires you to lie down in shivasana (flat on your back, eyes closed, fully relaxed). The card instructs you to visualize a rainbow as you lie there. I told Charlie to picture a rainbow in his mind and he told me, "I see a rainbow up there!"

I looked up at the ceiling and I kind of saw some light reflecting off the ceiling, so I said, "Yeah, I do, too!"

A couple seconds later, Charlie leaned in close to me, eyes all squinted up, and whispered in a deep, concerned voice, "You don't really see a rainbow, right? I mean, you're just pretending like I am, right?"

He sounded so worried about me, I burst out laughing, and said, "No, Charlie, you're right, I don't really see a rainbow..."

He was very reassured by this and lay his head back down to relax some more. I was touched by his concern for me, but honestly, I kind of did see something that looked a little rainbow-esque - but don't tell him, he'll have me committed...

Eight years of marital bliss...

2008-05-28T07:01:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Matt and I celebrated our eighth wedding anniversary. We went back to the restaurant where we had our wedding reception - it was the Loring Cafe and is now Lurcat.

We reflected on the last eight years - since May 2000, we have:

traveled to London and Ireland for our honeymoon
had George
the Yankee Empire has slowly declined (Matt observes that this coincides with George's arrival)
traveled to NY 16-20 times
bought our first house
traveled several times to Sanibel/Captiva
had one early pregnancy miscarriage
had Charlie
traveled several times to Sedona
sold our first house
bought our second house
had Clare
and with the arrival of each baby our bed gets more and more crowded

But most remarkable of the last eight years to me is that Matt and I are still laughing. Here's to continued laughter for 28 more years (and getting the kids out of our bed)!

A Baby By Any Other Name...

2008-05-26T19:45:00.001-07:00

Clare will be two in August. She is the feistiest little mama I have ever met. She does everything her big brothers do and when she (inevitably) gets hurt, she cries not because she hurts but because she is PISSED.

Tonight we kept asking her what her name is. And she would reply, "Baby." And we would say, "Isn't your name Clare?" To which she would reply, "No. Baby." When I pushed her to say, "Clare", she looked confused, shook her head no, pointed to herself and emphatically said, "Baby".

She responds to Clare. She just won't say it. As far as she is concerned she is Baby. Which makes sense. All day long, I tell the boys, "Watch out for the baby! Have you seen the baby? Shhh! The baby is sleeping! Don't hurt the baby! Where is that baby???" When Matt comes home he says, "Where's my baby? Who has the baby? Come here baby! Baby!"

Poor thing. Not even two years old and she has an identity crisis. She'll come when you call her Clare, but to her she is simply "the Baby".

Charlie loves Clare...

2008-05-19T09:16:00.003-07:00

Last week, Charlie told me he wants to marry Baby Clare. They plan to wed at the Rainforest Cafe...

Graffitti

2008-05-19T09:02:00.000-07:00

Last week, I had all three kids at a KidsPark Potluck Picnic at Groveland. I was trying to get new parents to get involved with the KidsPark parent board so that my term can end. As I was schmoozing with various parents, a very nice man came up to me and asked what my boys' names were. I told him and started chit chatting amicably. He kindly interrupted me and told me they had gotten ahold of a Sharpie marker and were writing on the playground equipment.

I was horrified. I ran over to them and told George to get down immediately. I confiscated the marker and told him that what he had done was graffitti and VERY VERY BAD. He looked scared and asked if I was going to call the police. I told him we had to try to clean it off and ran into KidsPark and grabbed some cleaner. We climbed up to try to get it cleaned up and I saw what they had done.

George had written "George Was Here" and drawn a gigantic python. There were several other drawings and some scribbles. I was so very very embarrassed - here was a party I set up to get parents more involved in KidsPark and my goddamned kids were defacing th playground! I told my friend what had happened and as I was telling her, the dad who had clued me in, came over and kindly said, "It is kind of funny. I mean, George Was Here?"

I got all three hoodlums home and looked up how to get permanent marker off painted surfaces. The next morning George and Charlie knew that we would be going to clean up their heinous crime as soon as George got off the bus.

Armed with nail polish remover and some very scared boys, we tried to clean the graffitti while it rained on us. We were able to fade it out significantly, but it was still there. I noticed a capital C and asked George what that was for. He told me he was going to write Ceci for his friend he had been playing with...

After our failed attempt to clean it off, we went into the Groveland Rec Center to fess up and apologize. We found an employee and told our story. The boys were TERRIFIED. The employee was so nice and he and his co-workers tried not to laugh when we admitted what George had written. They accepted the boys' nervous apology and sent us on our way. As we walked out, I emphasized how lucky we were that they didn't call the police. But I added that it seemed like we were off the hook since they hadn't asked for our names and phone numbers.

On the way home we talked about how wrong it is to destroy community property and how being constructive is so much better than being destructive. I hope some of it sunk in...

I can't blog, because I have no "m"...

2008-05-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

Baby Clare hit our laptop keyboard so viciously that the "m" broke off. For about a month, I could still use the "m", I just had to strike it extra hard (which occasionally resulted in multiple m's, but that is another story).

Then, last week, the "m" stopped working all together. This means that each time I get on the computer, I have to find an m to cut and paste before I can use any words with m's in them. Then, I have to use control V each time I need an m, which is quite cumbersome.

So, I avoid words with m's in them. Which is hard to do. Or if I am using capital m's (like for matt's name), I just stick to lowercase because otherwise it is too hard.

Not having m is tough. I am very mad at Baby Clare.

That Charlie is a pistol...

2008-05-03T08:43:00.000-07:00

One night this week I was sitting on the sofa, totally exhausted, when Charlie ran up and said, "Hey Mom, wanna see something REALLY funny?"

I responded, in a very tired, exasperated tone, "Sure. What is it?"

Giggling, Charlie pressed his hands in prayer position in front of his chest, stood on one leg with his other foot resting on the inside of his knee, and fluttered his eyes as he held his little mouth in a serious pout.

I laughed so hard he toppled out of his pose. He is such a goof, he know I do yoga and saw this on Power Rangers and wanted to poke fun at me. He kept doing this pose over and over again and I laughed and laughed.

He was one funny little guy...

The Dreaded Bus...

2008-04-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

This morning I woke up 30 minutes later than usual. This meant that we had to move FAST in order to get George to the bus stop in time. The kids were fairly good this morning . Except Clare found Matt's half-full Sprite can (left out from last night) and dumped it on herself. After I took her wet jammies and diaper off, she ran away naked, which I forgot about until she peed on the floor. I also got Charlie dressed before I realized his pants were ripped, so I had to run upstairs for a new pair. And I couldn't find socks for George. And Charlie didn't like the french toast waffles or the granola bar I gave him as a second choice, so ended up eating a Rice Krispy Bar instead.

Finally, after everyone was dressed and fed, we rushed out the door to the van in order to drive to the bus stop (because we were late and the bus keeps getting here earlier and earlier). But of course, as I went to to turn out of the alley, I was blocked by a workmen's truck, so I had to waste precious time taking the long way out of the alley.

Unfortunately, if you were in the van this is what you would have heard:

Mom: [Explitive! Explitive!]

Charlie: What did you just say?

Mom: I swore. I said a bad word because I am frustrated. I'm sorry.

At that moment, the bus passed us at the stop sign. Explitive! But we could see kids at the bus stop, so it was still possible for us to make it.

Except the bus started to pull away. Bill, one of the dads that made it on time to the bus stop, chased the bus, waving his arms, and the bus STOPPED!

I hopped out of the van and yelled, "Way to go, Bill!" George got out and we walked around the corner to the bus. I wanted to yell at the bus driver - You keep getting here earlier and earlier, that's not FAIR! But, since I am the one that got up thirty minutes late, I just smiled and said, "Thank you."

I told George to have a good day. I thanked Bill again for flagging down the bus. And I got in the van and kissed Charlie full on the mouth several times. He said, "Why are you kissing me?"

"Because WE MADE IT TO THE BUS!!!"

He asked me to stop kissing him...

That Charlie...

2008-04-25T19:31:00.000-07:00

Today Charlie had a play date with a little boy from his preschool. I came down to check on them after getting Clare down for a nap and asked what they were doing. While Charlie's friend bounced up and down on a bean bag chair, Charlie leaned in, smiled, and told me proudly, "I was just telling Jack about George's favorite things..."

*****

Tonight, after Nana, Poppop, Noah and Megan all went home (they had joined us for dinner), I overheard Charlie and George talking on the sofa.

George (yanking up on Charlie's underpants): I'm going to give you an ATOMIC WEDGIE!

Charlie: Don't, don't! Owwwwwwwwwww! Oooooooooooohhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaaarrrrgghhh! THAT WAS AWESOME!

Overheard on the sofa...

2008-04-24T18:52:00.000-07:00

Tonight George, Charlie, Clare and I were watching Animal Planet before bed when George excitedly asked me, "Mom, when we drive to Roseville we pass a Pet's Mart and they sell pets and can I please get a snake or a dog PLEASE?"

To which Charlie replied, "George, you're allergic to dogs. George, you're ALLERGIC!"

And then they continued to bicker about his allergies to the extent that I never had to weigh in on the pet issue.

They really are like an old married couple...

Weaning...

2008-04-22T11:54:00.000-07:00

Weaning is not going so well. I am trying to get Clare down to nursing only at naptime and bedtime (and of course during the all night buffet when I climb into bed with her in the middle of the night and we sleep together until morning).

She wants more "mil-mee", however. She gets VERY angry when I tell her no mil-mee. Mil-mee is her word for nursing and appears to be a hybrid of "milk" and "mommy". When I say no mil-mee, Clare tries to pull my shirt up and take the mil-mee by force. Sometimes I can dissuade her by offering her juice or a snack, and sometimes she goes into a full-on temper tantrum.

The great thing about mil-mee, however, is that it is still a silver bullet. Today, when it was time to leave Charlie's preschool class, Clare was holed up in the playhouse, refusing to leave. She slammed the door and closed the window shutters as I pleaded with her to come out. Then, all I had to say was, "Clare, let's go home and have some mil-mee". Upon hearing those magic words, she calmly hung up her plastic phone, opened the playhouse door and peacefully exited the classroom...

Can You Teach OCD?

2008-04-19T18:16:00.000-07:00

I have noticed that Clare is a tad obsessed with cleaning up. At her eighteen month check up recently, she crumpled up a page she had accidentally tore out of a book at the doctor's officeand kept struggling to get to the garbage can to throw it away. Her doctor calmly tried to explain to her that she would tape the page back in and for Clare to please not throw it away. When the doctor left to go find some tape, Clare looked at me, wild-eyed, and tried to break free from my grasp in order to make it to the garbage can. I hung on to her for dear life, trying to explain that the doctor was coming back with tape. Once the page was taped back in, Clare found loose papers (papers the doctor had just printed off about her growth and development) and proceeded to crumple them up one by one and toss them into the trash.

I keep our house picked up. I am not a good cleaner, have never been a good organizer, but I am good and keeping a place looking tidy. As a result, a lot of my time is spent yelling at the kids, "Pick up your toys" and "Don't make a mess!"

My need for tidiness has not rubbed off on my boys. They could care less if there are crumbs all over the floor under their chair or their toys are strewn all over the place. But Clare is different. She will yell, "MESS! MESS!" when she spills something. She will take a wet wipe and start wiping the floor for no apparent reason. She will have a stand off in the doctor's office over a torn book that she thinks should be tossed.

She loves to throw things into our kitchen garbage can. It's a big stainless steel can with a foot pedal to open the lid. Sometimes I give her things to put in the garbage just to get a break from her for a minute. I'll hand her a kleenex and say, "Clare, go throw this in the garbage", and then watch her toddle away on her little mission.

This can backfire, however. Recently, I found my coffee mug in the garbage. I also found her pants in there. She gets into such a cleaning frenzy she seems to forget that some things are actually reusable. Either that or she know that was my favorite mug and she threw it away out of spite...

My Precious Hour (if I am lucky) of Nap

2008-04-17T12:06:00.000-07:00

I look so forward to Clare's nap, it is pitiful. She is full-on, non-stop, crazy stunt-girl (interspersed with cling to her mama) from the moment we wake up (yes, I said "we" because I climb in bed with her in the middle of the night and stay their until morning) until most holy and revered naptime.

At about 1:00 pm, I lie down with her and nurse her to sleep. Then I unplug our phones, drink a microwaved cup of coffee, check my email, do any volunteer stuff I need to accomplish, and if I am very lucky I blog. Or watch Rachael Ray. Or sit in silence.

But sometimes Clare wakes up early. All I want is a solid hour (or if God is truly smiling on me, an hour and a half - He usually doesn't love me that much, though). But some days, I hear her crying just 40 minutes into her nap. I am convinced she is asleep and dreaming about snacks (like her mama, my girl loves to eat), and she inadvertently rolls over and rouses herself a bit, realizes I am not there and fights her way out of slumber, clawing up from her deep subconscious, wriggling back side to side, straining her eyes open and yells a strangled, "MAMA! MOM!" and begins to wail...

This is not good. I run up and try to nurse her back to sleep, try to crawl away from her sweaty little grasp, and if I am very lucky I escape and I might get 20 more minutes of freedom. But all the while, I am listening intently trying to hear if Clare is waking up, because she will and when she does it will be non-stop Clare until bedtime....

Don't Lie to Your Mama!

2008-04-16T12:32:00.000-07:00

Two nights ago, George came upstairs while Matt and I were finishing dinner and said, "Can I take my dinosaur backpack to school tomorrow instead of my usual one?"

Matt automatically said yes. I, however, was skeptical.

"Did you hide Pokemon cards in the dino backpack?"

George, in mock horror, said, "No! I would never do that!"

Matt chimed in with, "You wouldn't lie to your mom and dad would you?"

Again, horrified, George said, "I would NEVER do that..."

The next morning, I was getting everyone out to the bus stop when George said, cheerily, "I'm taking my dino backpack today!"

And I searched him. Sure enough, two bakugans were stuck to a pair of safety scissors in the secret pocket (bakugan are pokemon-esque toys that are magnetized). I told George he was busted and that we would talk when Dad got home...

That night, I told Matt what happened and he WAS PISSED. He immediately took George's pokemon cards, bakugan and Game Boy for one whole week. Then, George was told he would spend the night in his room. George sobbed. Matt was relentless, he kept stressing that the worst thing about what George did was that he lied to his parents.

The story came out that the older boys George hangs out with on the bus told him to sneak his bakugan to school. This convinced Matt that George will be smoking crack with hoodlums before we know it, sealing his resolve to make sure George knew how bad it is to lie to your parents.

Later that night, Matt went up to check on George in his room. He heard strange music. When he peeked in George was sitting on his bed, dejectedly playing the accordian. Matt slipped him a cookie and got a small smile in return...

Charlie's World

2008-04-10T07:06:00.000-07:00

There is one little boy in Charlie's class that he just does not care for - we'll call him "Martin". Martin is a very cute and sweet little boy, but for whatever reason, Charlie just does not "get" him. Enough so that Charlie didn't even want to invite Martin to his birthday party in December.

We insisted that Charlie invite Martin to his party, because it was the right thing to do. Every other boy in Charlie's class was invited, so we explained that he could not leave Martin out. Charlie did the right thing and all was well.

But Charlie still just doesn't like this little boy. It's Pet Week at Charlie's school and Martin brought his two Whippets for show and tell. When I picked Charlie up that day, I asked him what he thought of Martin's dogs, thinking that finally Charlie would take an interest in being friends with him. Charlie got a naughty little smile on his face and conspiratorially said, "His dogs are not like normal dogs, Mom. They don't look right."

In his little mind, Martin's dogs are just as weird as he is...

George-O-Lantern

2008-03-28T14:08:00.001-07:00

George bounded off the bus today yelling, "Mom! I lost a tooth at school!"

He lost a tooth that has been barely attached to his gums for about a week now. It was so loose that every once in awhile he would bang it and it would get stuck up into his gum in some weird way and he would freak out and we would have to jiggle it free to it's usual barely-hanging-on status.

As he bounded off the bus I was shocked by how different he looks without that tooth! It's a huge gaping hole in his top front teeth. He was absolutely jubilant about losing that tooth.

Apparently his friend Anton banged into his face and the tooth came out. I asked if it hurt, and he yelled, "NO! I told Anton 'Thank you for knocking out my tooth'!"

Charlie said George looks funny. I love that he is so excited and it is such a big deal! Yikes! I've got to get in touch with that Tooth Fairy pronto...

The Love Affair Continues...

2008-03-27T19:36:00.000-07:00

Charlie and Clare are really having a great time together. I have found them running around the house and laughing hysterically together a bunch of times lately.

Today, Charlie went into the bathroom to use the potty and shut the door for privacy. Well, for awhile, I heard Clare standing at the door calling for him. Then, I heard nothing. So, I went to investigate.

And I found them in the bathroom laughing their heads off. Charlie was on the potty with no pants (his underpants were mysteriously on his head) and Clare laughing hysterically. They were playing some game where Charlie made faces and talked gibberish and Clare laughed and laughed and laughed.

And the best part was, when I came in and found them, Charlie was so excited, he said, "We're playing and when I push her she doesn't get hurt - she laughs so hard!"

Charlie is So Cool...

2008-03-26T18:13:00.000-07:00

Charlie is super cute right now. His hair is a little long and he just looks so cool. And the zebra pants he wears really complete his image...

What is really cool, however, is that we are not the only ones in love with Charlie. Today when I picked Charlie up from preschool, one of his teachers told me what a sweet little boy he is. And I told her that we have always derived so much joy from his big brother George, but there is something so special about Charlie, Matt and I just truly get a kick out of him.

To which she replied, "When I'm old and gray and sitting in a nursing home somewhere, just please bring Charlie in to see me..."

Clare loves Charlie...

2008-03-25T19:05:00.000-07:00

Clare LOVES Charlie. Their relationship has been tenuous at best during the first 18 months of her life. But it appears to have taken a turn for the better over the last few months. We see them playing together more often, and they get each other laughing a lot - they really crack each other up.

Clare has been saying something that sounds like, "Wowwee" lately for everything. She'll just point at something and say, "Wowwee, wowwee, wowwee..." and we'll try to guess what she's saying and end up frustrating her because we just don't understand what she means...

Until recently. Because lately I've noticed that when she is pointing at something and says, "Wowwee." it tends to be something of Charlie's. I am becoming fairly certain "Wowwee" is one of her ways of saying Charlie. And the fact that she uses it so much is more evidence of her love affair with him.

She very clearly says George's name (usually with a slight growl for some reason), but when she says Charlie it sounds like Darwie or "wowwee".

And she pays a lot of attention to Charlie. The other afternoon, I was trying to put her down for a nap and she was not having it. She kept running out of the bedroom and yelling, "BYE! BYE!" through the banister at Charlie, who was quietly watching a show in the living room. After the third or fourth episode of this, I gave up. As I came down the stairs, Charlie asked me why I wasn't putting Clare down for a nap.

"Because she won't take a nap. So, I'm giving up." I explained.

To which he responded, with a coy little smile, "Clare won't take a nap because she wants to be with me, actually." And he was right, they played wild for the next hour and a half, chasing each other around the living room and giggling hysterically. No wonder she calls him "wowwee".

George AKA The G.Man

2008-03-19T19:03:00.000-07:00

I went to George's class to volunteer today. This is definitely a high point of my week. I get to hang out with George and his classmates in his classroom, which has to be one of the happiest places on earth.

I got to help out with Book Club today. They had already started when I got to school, so Mrs. Woxland sent me to the library where seven kids were reading Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs with Mrs. Geary. They were reading when I got there, so I just sat down by George and joined in. I glanced at his worksheet to see what exactly we were working on and noticed that George had signed his worksheet "George or G.Man". He had also added a little sketch of Patrick from Spongebob.

Later on when I was getting ready to leave, I mentioned the way George had signed his work to Mrs. Woxland, Mrs. Geary and the student teacher from St. Kates. The student teacher immediately chimed in, "Oh yeah, I noticed that yesterday, that's how he's writing his name now. When I asked him about it he said it's his nickname."

Amidst all of our raucous laughter, Mrs. Woxland pointed out the huge dichotomy there is between the two names - you have George on the one hand and "G-Man" on the other. It must be tough to be so complex...

Clare's First Arizona Vacation...

2008-03-14T17:00:00.000-07:00

The Clarebear has been a real trooper on this trip. She has hiked, she has swam, she has napped in her carseat, eaten off her big brothers' plates at dinner, and today she feasted on a meatball.

Vacation suits her.

Mama's Yoga Practice is Far from Zen...

2008-03-14T16:57:00.000-07:00

I have been taking yoga classes since the end of last year and I really love it. However, whenever I try to work on yoga outside of class, I get attacked by my children. This even happens on vacation, out in the wild. See photo...

Out of Africa

2008-03-14T09:38:00.000-07:00

We went to the Out of Africa outdoor wildlife farm a few days ago. We had no idea what to expect, and while the owner's wife is a Angie Dickinson look-a-like (absolutely beautiful and lovely), the park got a mixed review from us.

While we did see a giraffe, a zebra, lions, and tigers, we were a little confused by the workings of Out of Africa. There were times and shows and shuttles, but it was hot and big and hard to understand where we were supposed to be.

And, there was a rare white tiger that was billed as "special needs" because he was so inbred his kneecaps were on the wrong side of his legs. Weird.

But the owner and his wife seem to truly love animals, they even rescued a few tigers that

Sweet Boys (albeit a tad morbid)

2008-03-13T11:49:00.001-07:00

When visiting the Chapel of the Holy Cross, nestled high in the Red Rocks of Sedona, I took the two boys into the Chapel to light a few candles. As I lit the candles, I asked each of them to say a prayer.

George said, "I wish I were back at school." To which I replied, "Come on nerd, do a real prayer." So he said, "I pray Grammy will never die." Wow. He is so in love with Grammy, and that is the sweetest (though morbid) prayer ever.

Then, Charlie prayed, "For the whole world." Wow. We should be doing this at home. They're good...

Hiking in the Red Rocks

2008-03-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

We have been hiking as a family in the Red Rocks of Sedona. Surrounded by beauty, one family united, together in the outdoor journey...

It lasts about an hour tops, then someone is too thirsty, too tired, or too cranky to continue. Still, one hour of outdoor adventure for a family of five ranging from 18 months to 47 years old is pretty good, isn't it?

Sedona Mignognas

2008-03-10T20:45:00.000-07:00

We are vacationing in beautiful Sedona, Arizona. So far we have:

- Visited ancient native american cliff dwellings at Montezuma's Castle

- Hiked around the beautiful Red Rocks of Sedona

- Swam in a beautiful outdoor pool overlooking amazing scenery

- Last night we saw a moon that literally looked like a smiley face - all dark on top with a sliver of light at the bottom with the shape of an upturned grin

The kids love it here - George is keeping a one sentence a day journal about his trip for school. Today's entry said, "We went to Camp Run-amok-a. At camp we played games." This is accompanied by a drawing of Nintendo. Yeah he is a true outdoorsman...

Brotherly Tiff

2008-03-04T11:38:00.001-08:00

Yesterday morning, George woke up and immediately started playing with his Bakugan (some weird japanese anime card game thingy). Charlie then got up and took some that he claims are his.

Tempers escalated, tears were shed and ultimately George yelled, " CHARLIE - I AM SO MAD AT YOU I WILL NEVER SLEEP WITH YOU AGAIN!" (editor's note: they share a room and oftentimes a bed)

Charlie burst into tears as if his heart was broken. I made them kiss and make up before school and Charlie told me, "THAT IS THE STUPIDEST THING I HAVE EVER HAD TO DO!"

Whoa - they sure hold a grudge. But by afternoon, they were back being friends and they did indeed sleep together last night...

The Woman Who Ran into Walls (literally)

2008-02-26T11:06:00.001-08:00

When Clare cries at night, I run into her room as if I have been shot out of a cannon. I am a very sound sleeper and when awakened I panic and run full speed to whomever needs me like my hair is on fire.

Matt has always gotten a kick out of this, and has often said that one day I will run right through a wall trying to get to Clare while in a dead sleep.

Matt has been out of town for a few days and as a result I have been sleeping on his side of the bed. Not because I miss him (although I do), but because his side is way better. So, last night, when Clare started crying I ran full force out of bed to her - and ran right into a wall.

I split my lip and hurt my head. By the time I got her and got back into bed, I realized my lip was bleeding. This morning upon examining the damage, I was dismayed to find that I have a half inch cut through my upper lip. It is swollen, but doesn't look like a "fat lip". It just looks stupid.

As stupid as I feel. But, to be honest, I think it is so funny. In fact the first thing I did this morning was call Matt and tell him, "Well, it finally happened. Last night when Clare cried, I ran into a wall..."

He text messaged me about an hour ago asking how my lip is - he hasn't been able to get the image of me slamming into a wall out of his head since I called him this morning...

Why Volunteering SUCKS

2008-02-22T15:21:00.001-08:00

I have been putting in way too many hours trying to organize a Gala Event for KidsPark. I can now admit that this volunteer event has usurped my life. I know this for the following two reasons.

Number One - George did not get off the bus today. I ran to the bus stop to get him and he never got off. I yelled, "WHERE's GEORGE?" as the bus doors closed. The bus driver asked some kids and they said he told them he was getting picked up.

I ran home, checked messages and found out he was indeed at school waiting to be picked up. He was perfectly content, reading a book in the office. The principal assured me this happens all the time, no big deal. She said she and her kids get after school schedules confused all the time.

I had told George to ride the bus home as he got on the bus today. But I have picked him up a bunch of times lately, and even called school halfway through the day to ask them to put him in the pick up line. No wonder he was confused. I'm confused. I rush everywhere and am ready to be done with this f***ing Gala. George and I agreed that he is to ride the bus everyday unless A) he has a special class after school or B) I pin a note to him that says he is to be in the pick up line. He said it's very hard to remember stuff during the day because he is so busy.

Number Two - I have a visa charge machine that I needed to call and get all set up for tomorrow's fundraiser. I was on the phone trying to figure it all out, when I heard George calling for me. I ignored it and continued rushing through the over the phone training. Then I heard George and Charlie calling for me frantically and Charlie started crying. I asked the woman to hold on and ran down. George was standing in the bathroom almost in tears and the toilet was covered in diarrhea. George yelled, "I had Explosive Diarrhea!" Which made me wonder how he knew that term. But I cleaned him up, barracaded off the bathroom and finished my on the phone training.

I then came downstairs and disinfected the potty. I also had to use a plunger for some unknown reason no one can explain. When I asked George what happened he said, "I waited to use the potty and when I got there it exploded RIGHT OUT OF ME."

I am done volunteering after tomorrow.

The Fun Just Never Stops...

2008-02-22T11:14:00.001-08:00

The other day, I was apologizing to Charlie for yet another hectic morning of rushing George off to the bus stop (and yelling at dawdler Charlie in the process). I asked Charlie, "What can I do to make the morning go smoother for us, Charlie - what do you need from me?"

And he smiled and said, "Mom, sometimes in the morning, you do a great job..."

****

Charlie had a sick day this week. I kept him home from school even though he felt fine, because he had the vomitosis the night before. So in the midst of all my busy-ness in relation to this stupid Gala-fundraiser I have been working on, I had two crazy kids, Charlie and Clare, looking for some fun things to do.

After being terrorized by a crying, clingy Clare for the hour or so I was on the phone and computer trying to plan the Gala, I decided to do something Extra Fun. So, I pulled out the play-doh and cookie cutters and rolling pin and sat on the kitchen floor with the gang and went to it. They had a blast. We made cookies and messes and finally Charlie decided to make play-doh faces which was really funny.

Then after Clare's nap, we popped Keb Mo's kids CD into the CD player and had an old fashioned jam session. We pulled out all the instruments - maracas, drums, kazoos - and went nuts. Clare danced like a go-go cage dancer in one spot, holding my hand and shuffling back and forth with a very severe look on her face. And Charlie sat in our big chair languidly strumming the guitar.

It was awesome, dude.

Our Little Girl is Growing Up...

2008-01-15T17:54:00.000-08:00

Clare is now in the Mixed Age Room at KidsPark. She used to be in the Infant Room with the babies, but now she is in the big room with all the kids from a year and a half to five years old.

She loves it. She plays and sits in circle time. She does art projects (sort of). And most of all, she eats. Each day when I pick her up she is holding court at the snack table. She's too tiny to reach the table, so she sits on her feet and occasionally springs up to a squatting position in her little chair. This way she's actually sitting up higher than all the other kids seated the right way in their chair.

I do a double take each time I come in to pick her up, because it looks like someone snuck an infant into the big kids' room. There's this little baby-head at the snack table, sandwiched in between all the bigger kids.

But since she's up higher than all of them, it looks like Babyface Mulligan is the mob boss holding a family meeting...

Sicko

2007-12-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

Clare has a cold. And she's pissed. Last night, I went out and Matt was in charge of all three of them. Charlie and George went to sleep easy, but Clare kept waking up every 15 minutes. Matt finally brought her into our bed, where the other two guys already sleeping (Matt often puts the boys to sleep right in our bed when I'm out, in order to shave a little time off the bedtime routine).

Once in our bed, she woke up, thrashed around and knocked Charlie in the face. By the time I got home, I just crawled into bed with her in her room. She kept turning over and moaning, "Ohhhhhhh!" Then, she would turn over a few more times, wake up, cry, demand to nurse, fall back asleep, only to wake up again 15 minutes later to start the whole chain reaction all over again.

Needless to say, she ain't happy today. I tried to cuddle up with her to get her to take a good nap, and she started the shenanigans all over again. Now she is in her crib, crying and sleeping, crying and sleeping.

Ain't nobody happy when Clare is sick. Let's hope this cycles through quickly, I want my happy little girl back...

The Great American Writer - George...

2007-12-04T06:59:00.000-08:00

George is learning to read and write. At school he is encouraged to get his ideas down however he can, regardless of correct spelling. This leads to some interesting writing.

For instance, after watching Ranger hockey with his dad, he decided to write down the final score and bring it to school:

Wajrs Wan
(Rangers Won)

And this morning, as homework he wrote the prcedure for brushing his teeth:

Pot toth past on the toth bas thand sab teth bat gep the wotr on
(put toothpaste on the toothbrush, than scrub teeth but keep the water on)

Yogi Clarebear...

2007-12-04T06:56:00.000-08:00

I have taken a few yoga classes and LOVE it, so of course I have been showing the boys some yoga poses. They are VERY flexible and add even more drama to conventional yoga poses with kicks, punches and shouts.

While showing them "three-legged dog" (hands down, one leg down and one up), I noticed a very tiny little girl bent over, smiling, with one little leg up in the air...

Movie Magic

2007-11-26T09:35:00.001-08:00

Yesterday, I planned on taking the boys to The Bee Movie. I was going to take them to an early afternoon showtime, while Matt and Clare stayed home to watch the NY Giants. On a whim, I called Poppop and invited him to join us. This was truly a brilliant idea on my part because I had so much fun watching the movie with my dad and my boys!

We met Poppop at the theater. The boys were so excited to see him, he wasn't even able to get into the lobby before they were swarming around his legs.

Of course, we started our movie experience in the refreshments line. Poppop bought us all popcorn and sodas and a box of gummy worms. Once we were settled in the theater - which is no easy feet with two little boys, four sodas, four bags of popcorn and a box of gummy worms - we all sat back to watch the previews.

Charlie tends to talk a little too loud during the previews, and George just digs into his soda and popcorn. During the previews, we saw quite a few movies we would like to see this holiday season. And George and Charlie made sure Poppop knew they want to see them with HIM.

Once the movie finally started, Charlie had quieted down and George was still banging back the popcorn. Charlie didn't want his popcorn at first, but he came around. Once he started eating the popcorn, he had a nice little pile of dropped pieces covering his chest. I noticed about 20 minutes into the movie that George looked a little uncomfortable in his seat. I snuck over to him and asked if he was OK. He told me his stomach hurt, so he sat on my lap for awhile. Of course since he was on my lap, Charlie wanted to sit with me too, so we spent a good 20 minutes all together in George's seat.

Then, George went and sat next to Poppop. Charlie stayed on my lap the rest of the show. Probably because his seat was littered with popcorn from his earlier feeding frenzy. He sure made a big mess for someone who didn't want popcorn in the first place.

We all had such a great time. The movie was great, the company was terrific and I can't wait to go back for another movie very soon...

The Three R's - Reading, Writing, and Ridicule?

2007-11-19T09:41:00.000-08:00

George is learning to read and write. He is constantly asking us how to spell different things so that he can add words to his prolific number of drawings of monsters, dinosaurs and dragons. Sometimes, however, he tries to write things out all on his own.

Yesterday, I went downstairs to where the boys were playing. George was at the table concentrating very hard on whatever he was working on. Upon closer inspection, I saw that he was writing. He had written "PNN ME DONN". George told me that this said, "Pin me down" (they had just been wrestling). The next line said, "CHORLEE GRC".

George told me, with an embarrassed laugh, that this said, "Charlie's a jerk." Because I am not the mature parent, I burst out laughing and told him his writing was great. Then, I ran upstairs to share the story with Matt. Matt is the mature parent, so when George showed his drawings to Matt, Matt explained that writing mean things about someone is just as hurtful as saying them to someone. So, George erased his defamation of Charlie's character and wrote something else instead.

Hey, in my defense, Matt laughed when I told him the story originally...

When the Cats are away the mice will...

2007-11-07T11:20:00.000-08:00

Matt, Baby Clare and I went to New York last weekend for a surprise Halloween Costume/Going Away/60th Birthday party for my brother-in-law Luke. We arranged for our friend Jenna to watch the boys for the weekend. Jenna is an incredible young woman, she is studying to be a teacher (currently working on her Masters in Education) and is probably one of the kindest people I have ever met. The boys love her so much that they did not seem the least bit concerned about us being gone for 72 hours.

We left on Friday morning in a mad rush of getting Charlie dropped off at KidsPark, George to school and us to the airport. My mom was going to pick Charlie up at 10:30 am from KidsPark, and stay with him at our house until Megan got done with student teaching for the day. Then Megan would take Charlie to the bus stop to get George. Finally, Jenna would come after she was done with school and take care of the boys for the rest of the weekend. It was a lot to coordinate and keep straight.

Once Charlie and George were dropped off at their respective programs and we were finally on the plane, I was ready to go back to bed. Thankfully, Clare was perfect on the plane, sleeping from the time we took off until we landed.

As soon as we got to New York, we went to right to Grammy's beautiful apartment in Bronxville. We called to check in on the kids and found out that everyone was home and safe and they were doing just fine without us. As a special treat that evening, Jenna took the boys to the Children's Museum.

Meanwhile, in New York, we went to dinner with Grammy and Uncle Paul. Paul and Clare hit it off after a bit of a rough start. Clare was trying to escape from Grammy's den, when Paul called her name - startled, she ran like hell and jumped right into Matt's lap. By the end of our dinner, however, Paul was feeding Clare tiramisu and ever so gently wiping her little mouth after each bite. When our bill arrived, Clare had her head on the table staring meaningfully into Uncle Paul's eyes. She seemed to be saying, "You had me at dessert..."

The next day as we drove to Aunt Katie's house in Connecticut, we called to check on the boys. They had spent Saturday morning at the Bakken Museum (a children's science museum in Minneapolis started by one of the founders of Medtronic). For all intents and purposes, they were having the weekend of their lives. However, when Jenna put George on the phone with me and I heard a little voice say, "Mom, are you guys coming home tonight?" When I explained that we still had to go to the party that evening, and would not be home until the next day, all I heard was complete silence. Then, I heard his tiny little voice say, "I thought you were coming home tonight..." Next, Charlie got on the line, and in an even tinier voice I heard, "Are you coming home this night? I thought you were coming home this night..."

At this time, I panicked. I do not handle my children being sad very well, so I handed the phone to Matt who talked to them for a minute and got off the phone promising to call them from the party to tell them a bedtime story.

And he did. At nine o'clock New York time, Matt called the boys. He had Jenna put him on speaker phone and he told them a bedtime story. They were in heaven.

The next day we traveled from 9:00 am until 4:00 pm without speaking to them. They were definitely excited to see us when we finally rolled in, but they had a great Sunday with Jenna, none the less. Jenna did an awesome job that weekend, the boys had fun, they ate well, the house was kept in great condition - it could not have gone better for everyone involved. But isn't it nice to know that even though they had a terrific time, they still missed us and wished we got home a day earlier? It just goes to show you, mom and dad still are number one... although Matthew would argue he is numero uno and I am numero dos... Let's just say, when I jumped up and down with the boys giving them great big shake your whole body hugs, I am fairly certain I was either tied for number one or may have just won that spot by a nose...

Charlie is the man...

2007-10-22T08:45:00.000-07:00

I went to Charlie's preschool conference on Saturday. Matt stayed home with George and Clare, and I went in, armed with my list of concerns for the teacher.

Our major concern is that Charlie is continually overshadowed by his big brother George. George is an icon in our family. Largely because he is our first born and the first grandchild, but also because he is a very special, bright, kind, funny kid.

Every conference we have gone to for George (three or so at this point) has only cemented the superstar status he has at home. He is routinely described as a kind little boy who tries to include everyone when he plays. He also is a great little artist and very inquisitive.

As a result of our ongoing lovefest for George, Charlie has lately been saying things to us like, "I'm not a good draw-er, George is the good draw-er." This has been worrying us because Charlie is sandwiched between King George and Baby Clare, and this middle child angst is already starting before age four!

Anyway, I went in to the conference curious to hear if they see any of Charlie's lack of self-confidence. The first thing Miss Margie said was, "Well, you must have a lot of other mom's coming up to you and saying - 'oh, you're Charlie's mom!' -the kids fight to sit next to him at snack, everyone always wants to play with him, he is quite a social little guy..."

I immediately told her how relieved I was to hear this and explained our concerns about Charlie living under George's shadow. Miss Margie smiled and said, "Charlie is the George to all the other kids in this class - they look up to him, want to play with him, he is just an absolute joy to have in class!"

She encouraged us to tell Charlie how much all the kids like him at school. And to remind him when he compares himself to his big brother, that he is younger than George, and that he is a great student at preschool.

When I got home I took Charlie off to the side of where Matt, George and Clare were playing and told him what wonderful things his teachers had to say about him. He was so cute and serious with just a hint of a smile on his face. Then I told everyone what I had found out and George yelled, "I'm great at Kindergarten, too!"

It's good for George to have to share the spotlight with his little brother...

Kindergarten Double-Talk

2007-09-25T11:41:00.000-07:00

Well, George is six as of September 12. And three birthday parties later, he is a card-carrying Kindergartner. We have had a little trouble assessing how Kindergarten is going for the G-man. Unlike every other program he has been in, he has very little to say about Kindergarten other than on some mornings he would really prefer not to go.

Matt and I were a little alarmed by George's lackluster response to his new school, so we emailed his teacher. I had visions of George battling us about school every morning for the next 12 years and was ready to pull him out and put him into private school.

However, cooler heads prevailed. His teacher emailed us back reassuring us that it is very common for kids to be ambivalent about full-day Kindergarten by the time they get home - because they are TIRED. She also assured us that George actually really likes being there, does all his work, is a good listener and a good friend to his classmates.

PHEW! While it is fantastic to get positive feedback from his teacher (she closed by saying she enjoys being his teacher), I think the best thing about communicating our concerns to her is that now the gig is up for the G-man. When he started saying he didn't want to go to school last night at bedtime, I mentioned that we had emailed Mrs. Woxland. His eyes immediately got BIG.

Today when we told him she said he is doing GREAT at school, he seemed to realize that we are in cahoots - his fishing friends are talking to his bowling buddies, and we all know he does great at school. It's gonna be a little harder around here to drum up sympathy for not wanting to go to school anymore, since we are now all on the same page....

Score one for the parents...

Operation "Kill Us"

2007-08-06T07:41:00.001-07:00

Clare is a maniac. She is just about to start walking, so she is ALWAYS on the move. She can manage a few steps without support from furniture and she crawls at warp speed. This weekend she added climbing up on the concrete slab in front of the fireplace to her repertoire.

She also LOVES to get her hands in our potted plants. And when you see her reaching in and say, "CLARE - NO!" She smiles and says, "YEAH! YEAH!"

And she will only kiss her baby dolls - not her mommy or daddy. Thus her new nickname (we saw the Bourne Ultimatum this weekend) - Operation "Kill Us".

I here Operation KU calling me now...

Did you know there are Real Ninjas at our Library?

2007-07-10T12:20:00.001-07:00

Today I took the boys to the library after George's T-Ball game. Charlie picked out a book about Ninjas, which he (like George) likes to call "Nin-jers".

He was very excited about this book and as we walked toward the check out line he kept showing me pictures of Ninjas clad in Black in various daring poses. Each time he flashed me a picture he would yell, "NIN-JERS!"

Suddenly, a Somalian teen appeared in front of us, shelving books, wearing a full-length black burkah. She was covered in black cloth from head to toe with only her face showing. Charlie's eyes got huge and he yelled, "MOMMY! A REAL NIN-JER!!!!"

She did not seem to notice. I re-directed our path to the check out line. Part of me wanted to go up to her and tell her what had happened, because that is just too funny. It was like he saw Spiderman.

However, I wasn't sure how well this joke would translate cross-culturally. So I kept it to myself.

George Saves Charlie's Life - Details at Eleven!

2007-07-09T17:09:00.000-07:00

Today Charlie grabbed on to the garage door handle as it was opening up. It's an automatic door, so it kept going up with him dangling in the air. I was holding Clare, so I was momentarily frozen. Thank goodness George was there, he instinctively grabbed Charlie's waist and pulled him down.

Charlie was terrified and we were all in shock. I immediately said, "Don't ever do that again, Charlie - that is so dangerous!" And George yelled, "I saved his life!"

Charlie was mortified. He started to cry and said, "Everyone is mad at me!"

I told we were not mad at him, just scared because we want him to always be safe. George told him he did a great job holding on so tight.

When we told daddy (after Charlie asked us not to), Charlie hid his eyes. Matt told him not to feel bad, when he was little he stood up on the dining room table and cut his head open on the chandelier. This made Charles feel a little bit better...

Hopefully, Charlie's daredevil will be a little more in check after today...

George is Cool

2007-06-09T19:45:00.000-07:00

George had to have a tooth pulled this week and he was the bravest boy EVER. The night before his appointment, we reminded him that he was having a tooth pulled the next day. And upon hearing that, he yelled, "YES!"

Matt took him to his appointment and even though there was all sorts of activity around him in the doctor's office and they were putting a needle in his arm, he never faltered. In fact, after the tooth was pulled, as he was sitting in the recovery room, the nurse asked him if it was OK for his dad to come in. George's first response was, "No." But then he thought about it and said, "Yes, he can, he probably want's to hold my hand..."

And ever since his appointment, he's been showing everyone he runs into the gap in his mouth where his tooth used to be...

Charlie, Charlie, Charlie...

2007-06-04T12:10:00.000-07:00

This morning we were at the park and I was talking to a very pregnant mom about her soon to be born baby.

After I was done talking to her, Charlie said he needed to get off his swing to go tell her something. This is a common occurrence with Charlie, usually he just wants to tell them who he is today (ie. Spy Kid, Diego, etc.). So I watched as he walked up to her, pointed at her belly and said, clear as a bell, "What is that big fat thing?"

Startled, she said, "There's a baby in my tummy. That's my baby."

Horrified, I raced up and said, "Charlie, she has a baby in her tummy, like mommy did when she was pregnant with Clare."

Charlie looked at her and said, "Your tummy was never that FAT."

I made my niceties and hurried away, desperately insisting over my shoulder, "Good to see you, you look GREAT!"

Needless to say, Charlie and I immediately had a heart-to-heart about how he should test-run all comments to other mommies on me first...

Happy Mothers Day

2007-05-14T12:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was Mothers Day and when George and Clare and I were in the car, George said, in a stage whisper, "Don't tell Dad, but I love you the most! But don't tell Dad. Even when I tell him I love him the most, I love you the most."

I, of course laughed, and thanked him. Then after thinking about it for awhile, he added, "You could tell him in numbers, then he wouldn't understand. Or you could write it on a piece of paper and hide it from him."

So I said, "Hey, I could put it in my blog, he never reads that."

To which George said, "Yeah, you can put it in your blog..."

Nothing is Sacred

2007-05-14T06:22:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I took George and Clare to Target. Matt had Charlie with him doing the grocery shopping. George, Clare and I were going to pick out a little toy for each of them at Target after I got some new underwear. As we entered Target I explained that we would get mom's underwear first and then go to the toy department, thinking I could use the toy as leverage for good behavior while in the clothing department.

Since we entered the store right by the toys, I quickly changed plans and we stopped there first. George picked out some cool trucks within his proposed budget. As we were leaving the toy department, George stated loudly, "Hey Mom - we forgot your UNDERPANTS!"

I got a few startled glances from nearby customers. I held my head high and said, "You got that right, George, let's go get them right now..."

The Bear is CRAWLING

2007-05-12T09:01:00.000-07:00

ClareBear took it upon herself last weekend to crawl for the very first time in front of BOTH her mom and dad.

Matt had been out of town golfing for a few days, and Clare had been on the edge of crawling for about a month. Matt had not been home more than an hour when he and I were standing in our upstairs hallway, chatting away looking at Clarebear sitting on the floor, when she up and crawled for the first time!

I clapped so loudly, she got startled and did a face plant. Then I got her undressed for her bath and she crawled faster and farther down the hall in the buff. Apparently diapers can be very inhibiting...

The Smothers Brothers...

2007-05-02T05:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday as we were driving around town, I overheard George and Charlie singing "John the Rabbit":

George: Oh John the Rabbit...

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: He's got a mighty habit...

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: Of jumpin' in my garden...

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: He eats tomatoes...

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: And sweet tomatoes [George always forgets this is supposed to be sweet potatoes]

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: And if I live...

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: To see next spring...

Charlie: Oh yeah...

George: I won't have a garden at all...

At this point I yelled, "Yeah!!!!!!!" And poor Charlie wailed, "You didn't let me say "Oh yeah"!

George is too funny...

2007-04-27T06:29:00.000-07:00

Yesterday as we were driving to our second doctor's appointment of the week, I told George I use to live in an apartment up the street from the clinic.

Without missing a beat he said, "When, like in the 1930's?"

I laughed so hard and said, "How do you come up with these things?"

He replied, "My head just says them..."

Oh Charlie...

2007-04-26T13:32:00.000-07:00

Charles was in rare form today at the doctor's office. While George was almost in tears from an ear ache and Clare was wailing from hers, Charlie was doing everything he could think of to get the doctor's attention.

What was remarkable was that the doctor was so understanding of and tickled by Charlie. When the doctor walked in, Charlie was hiding under a kid-sized chair. He hollered out, "Hey, can you see me?" And the doctor, who had not met us before, played along trying to find Charlie. But Charlie wanted more attention than his sick siblings, so he started intermittently shrieking to elicit a response from the doctor. The doctor would smile and kindly respond, "I hear you, but I don't see you Charlie, are you under the table?"

Later in the appointment, when the doctor was trying to explain the medications to me, he stopped himself and said sometimes Charlie's age group become obsessed with potty talk. I think he brought this up because he was about to say the antibiotics might cause diarrhea, and he knew that could set Charlie off on a long tangent. Well, Charlie heard the reference to bathroom talk and soon was yelling from under the chair, "Hey mom, you're a PENIS!" And I calmly said, "Charles, that is bathroom talk, stop please." He then responded gleefully, "You're a BIG PENIS!"

Thankfully the doctor laughed and shook his head and continued on with his instructions. What was so great about his reaction was that he knows how common this behavior is (especially from a middle child) yet he recognized and appreciated that special Charlie-brand of impish mischieviousness. Although Charlie's behavior pushes the limits he has such a light and happy spirit. He really is a special little guy.

Seeing the doctor, a father of boys in their late 20's, get such a kick out of Charlie, and not sweat the questionable behavior, made me accept and appreciate our little sprite even more...