They made Dora cry! Those BASTARDS!

My Mom sent this over after scanning it from a full page ad that was in the paper. I just had to post it. I don't care who's fault it is, making Dora cry is just mean.

Tristan has a little love thang going on with her and if he sees this, he's going to be kicking some ass. And if he can't handle it... don't make Connor get involved.

Noggin?! Cancelled?!

Oh terrible day. This morning, I turned on the tube for a little bit of Mommy has to drink a cup of coffee before talking about whether or not cows eat mice and there was a black crawl running across the bottom of the screen. It announced that Time Warner Cable was pulling several channels, including, but not limited to, MTV, VH1, Nickelodeon, and worst of all, Noggin.
Now, I’ve since passed the age where I even care that MTV and VH1 are being taken away. I lived the good days with those channels back when they actually played music and since then I’ve discovered the digital music channels and don’t have the need for a channel that’s sold out to reality television. If I want to watch a video, I’ll do it on the internet by god. But the thought of losing Noggin, sends a chill of fear down my spine.
For those of you that don’t have children, let me explain. Noggin is a commercial free cartoon network that only shows programs that are not violent and are good for preschool development. I’m not saying it takes the place of parents, (although some days… ) but if you have to put your child in front of the TV, this is the channel that you want. Coming from someone that’s had the stomach flu twice in one year, there are days when you are thankful for your family’s love, health and Noggin.
I have a 4 year old. And a 2 year old. And I am not happy with this. Not at all. There is a number on the bottom of the screen that you can call, but *surprise!* when you call, they are experiencing technical difficulty and are unable to take the call.
Really? You don’t want to talk to me right now? Me who has three of your services and spends enough to buy a second car? You don’t want to hear what I have to say? Hmmm. How about chatting with live help online? They are having technical problems too. Interesting… I think I might actually be starting to get this. So I sent an email to let them know, that the thought of having to explain to a 2 year old, where Go, Diego, Go has gone is not appealing to me at all. Not one little bit.
Your mission is clear. You must help me save Noggin… if you won’t do it for the children, do it for Jon Stewart. Jon Stewart is how we get our news the thought of being subjected the sensationalized channels of broadcast media, makes me feel like I’ve just eaten a bad shrimp. Please save me from bad shrimp and days where I don’t get to have a thought for myself.
Time Warner is a monopoly and doesn’t really seem to care much about whether or not they offer competent service at all. I could list 10 different examples, but I’m trying to stay on topic. I’d be willing to pay extra for Noggin if I had to, because it means that while I’m cooking dinner each night, or drinking a cup of coffee in the morning that I get just a little bit of peace it’s worth it to me. Maybe Time Warner doesn’t care whether or not I’m happy with their service, but one thing they should know is… I hold a grudge and I’m not afraid to give my money to someone else each month.

Books of 2008

The out of sync child - Could have created a turning point in my life
The other Bolyn Girl - Great read! Couldn't put it down.
The Constant Princess - Read this before The Other Bolyen Girl
The Time Traveler's Wife - Best book of the year
Brisinger - Half ass writing
The Road - This still haunts me
A New Earth - Not understanding what all of the hype was about
Wildfire - Old school cowboy western
101 Things Every Kid Should Do - cute
The Last Child in the Woods - Decent
Healing the New Childhood Disorders - Fascinating. Maybe there is hope
Holidays on Ice - A little darker than I thought it would be
One Thousand Splendid Suns - No other book has made me so appreciate my husband
Kite Runner - Tragic. It was hard to forgive the main character for something that happened in the beginning of the book
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly - Amazing
Water for Elephants - Loved it
Are you there God, it's Me Margaret - For sentimental reasons
East of Eden - Was dreading reading it, but it was really great
Eat, Pray, Love - Good, but not worth all the hype
The Bridge - A story about an old mill worker. Never liked a single character in the book. Even the dog was annoying
Atonement - Disappointing ending
The Five People You Meet in Heaven - The Celestine Prophecy without any metaphysics. B rate psychobabble
All We Need of Hell - A raw, dysfunctional love story
The Last Lecture - inspiring
Johnathan Strange and Mr. Norrell - Took me forever to read it, because there was the promise that the book would improve... it never did.
Home Cheap Home - Some good ideas
Sink Reflections - I cleaned for a solid week
Eldest - Better than the third book

The New Addition

For my birthday this year, Dad and Ellen bestowed upon me a fantastic gift. A kitty from a local rescue shelter. The shelter established by local vets in the area is called Kitty City. They only deal in felines and they have a whole slew of both kittens and full grown cats to choose from. We went in with Connor, leaving Tristan with Papaw and Nana and held several different kittens and full grown cats. There was one cat though, that was out of his cage the entire time and completely unphased by the commotion and noise. In the end, we decided that was probably the cat for us. I didn't interact much with the cat that we adopted at the store, apart from observation, but any cat that can lay in the middle of the floor while people come in and out and our 4 year old runs around trying to let all of the kitties out of their cages, is probably our best bet. So we brought him home with us. We named him Pippin, after rejecting a slew of other names from the Tolkien Trilogy, including Gandolf the Gray which would have been appropriate, but better for a cat that isn't a total spaz. Pippin seems to fit him well and the kids are both able to say his name. He should just be glad that we didn't let Connor name him, or he'd be stuck with "Kitty".
The kids love him and so do we. He's sweet, playful and completely unphased when he's picked up by Connor 457 times a day. I know you think I'm exaggerating here and I might be, because I haven't actually counted, but it's damn close. He's a good kitty this one.

Dear Connor & Tristan - 4 yrs, 2 mo & 2 yrs, 3 mos

Dear Connor and Tristan,
As Christmas time approaches fast and furious, we prepare for the chimney descent of The Man in the Red Suit. I'm not sure that either of you quite understand the Santa ritual, although there are lots of questions from Connor about how Santa is going to get past the dragon in our fireplace, (I had to tell them SOMETHING to keep them from opening the fireplace doors) and how will he know he's not a bad pirate and not beat him up.
I explain about The Sleigh Bell Early Detection System and that there's not really a dragon in the fireplace. I explain about Santa leaving gifts for you both, but I'm not sure Connor's buying it. You've sat in Santa's lap already and received a letter in the mail from Sir Jolly himself, but I think the concept is just too abstract.


This Christmas is SO much better than last Christmas. Last Christmas there was no income and after a year of stress, it all became quite existential to me. I went through the motions more of an observer than a participant. I'm not sure either of you noticed at all, but in retrospect, how could you not have felt at least the slightest residue of panic or a wisp of despair. Maybe you weren't able to put it into words, but certainly you noticed the elephant that wasn't just hanging out in, but had taken up residence in every place meant for Christmas cheer.


You're Dad and I are hoping that this year will be far more magical for you both.
You both have done extremely well with the Christmas tree in the living room, not breaking any ornaments or unwrapping any presents underneath. Tristan, you just came over to me, baffled because you had somehow managed to get the hook from a glass ornament stuck between your bottom two teeth and couldn't get the ornament back out. I removed it with no injury and am hoping that you'll only do that once.



Connor, you've been allowed to plug the tree in, something that breaks our very strict rule of no children touching plugs and the the first time you did it, it was probably more exciting to you than seeing an elf.



The two of you love to play any game that invovles pretend monsters, you both love art, especially painting and computer games. I think as soon as little brother has the dexterity to operate a mouse, he'll be a computer prodigy all from watching big brother play on the computer. We try to teach the proper names for the elements that you both see on screen. For example, you both know what a link is and that the top bar of the page is called a title bar.



The two of you seem to be playing more and fighting less. There is so much fighting that it's hard to believe that there could have ever been more. But finally we've increased the threshhold of threats so that it's not worth losing dessert over. Plus, now that Tristan's speech is coming online a little bit clearer, communication with Connor is easier so it's easier for you both to make up games to play together. Now the only problem is that you both gang up on Mommy and Daddy or combine your efforts at sneakiness. That's ok though, we need the practice for when you both are teenagers.
I love you,
Mommy

300 Flushes - The Sequel

Maybe you remember that we just had the stomach flu a month or so ago. I would like everyone and especially the universe to know that when I said I only needed to have it 8 more times to reach my goal weight that I was kidding. Because now we have it again.
Tristan threw up on the way up to Dad's the other night, all over himself and the car seat. He threw up again on the way home. We weren't certain then that it was a stomach bug. We thought that maybe he just kept putting his fingers too far down his throat... but at 5am this morning, I was certain that it was a stomach bug. And that I had it too.
And now Jorma has it. At least he's a couple of hours behind me, so we are able to stagger our child care.
I would like to give a big round of applause to the husband though, as he and my Dad put up most of the swing set that the boys are getting for Christmas, while Jorma was feeling like he was going to puke the whole time.
And then to my neighbor who brought me sports drink in my time of extreme need. And my stepmom who came by once the kids were up from nap and took over diaper changes and snacks. And then made a run for Sportsdrink. And I'd like to thank the academy, or rather the preschool, for without them, none of this would have been possible. Art's not the only thing they are bringing home from school y'all.

Tis the Season

When I was single, back-in-the-day, after getting off of work, Darlene and I would go to the local (and shiny brand new) Wal-Mart, armed with styrofoam cups filled with gin, tonic and extra lime. We'd get some shopping done, randomly wander around the store and around 2am we'd go home. The down side was that drinking and shopping at Wal-Mart ends up with some interesting items the next day. Like the time that I bought two bikinis for myself, simply because they were 80% off. That might have been a really good deal, if I had any businesss wearing one.
I knew this morning when Jorma left for Target that he wasn't going to be happy when he came home. I think he was hoping that it wasn't going to be wall to wall with people, which it was, but he also reported that people were standing, staring and not moving as if they were making a life changing decision in whether to purchase the green or the blue sweater for their mother in law. When he came home, his hair was just a little bit taller on his head but he wasn't as frazzled as I thought he would be.
I sympathized with him, but then was compelled to call him from my cell when I went shopping for a belt and found that I couldn't bear to wait in line for an hour and a half just to keep my jeans from sliding down my bottom. Wait in line for an hour... or plumbers crack... wait in line for an hour... or... well, I'll try not to bend down in front of you.
Mostly I do my shopping during the day when the kids are in school and I had forgotten what it was like to go out into the general population at noon on a Saturday during the holiday season. It was madnesss. I was thankful that I didn't have my kids with me, as I saw several women struggling with theirs and other moms using their strollers and leverage to break through the crowds. Tis the season.

Dear Connor - 4 Years, 1 Month

Dear Connor,
In preschool you made a turkey and the teacher wrote what you were thankful for on yours… Stego. You are thankful for your big, green stuffed dinosaur. I am thankful that you are able to have a big, green stuffed dinosaur to sleep with in your comfy, warm bed in your flannel PJs, with your brother, Mommy and Daddy sleeping close by.

I’m thankful that we have two beautiful children and even more thankful that they are healthy and safe. I think of all of the children in the world, that are hungry, scared or without someone to cuddle them each night before they sleep. I think about the children that don’t to celebrate a holiday with an abundance of food or get to snuggle down under the covers waiting to see what Santa will bring the next morning. I think of all of the children that would be grateful to have one of the toys that’s stuffed under your bed, or just one of the 20 gallons of water we use frolicking in the shower together. We are beyond lucky. We are beyond blessed.

I could probably think about it until I felt guilty, but instead I just do what I can to make the world a better place and hope that in your life you will too. I hope as you get older and you read this, that you pledge to make a difference in someone else’s life. I hope that you are filled with gratitude for all that you have and that you recognize that although you may not drive the car that you want, or be able to have your own bathroom, that just having clean, running water is miracle enough.
I really hope that you find your brother to be less of a nuisance and more of a blessing, even if right now you are constantly fighting. You are so lucky to have a sibling. Someone that knows you better than anyone else in the world and someone that loves you unconditionally. I will always believe that while we were all blessed by bringing Tristan into this world, that it blessed no one more than you because we gave you something that only we could give you… a best friend. Right now he’s a best friend that you can’t resist whacking on the head whenever you walk by and it’s entirely possible that even when you are in your 20’s you’ll still take the occasional tumble together over which TV program to watch, but you’ll always have each other.

I’ve always tried to maintain gratitude for the things that I have, even when things are at their worst and it seems like there is no way out. I really think this attitude has pulled me through the darkest times of my life and has given me a constant, solid appreciation for the life that I’m living.
This Thanksgiving holiday, I’d like you to know that the thing that I’m the most thankful for is my family. I’m thankful for my wonderful husband, my beautiful children and the people that love us all so much. I’ve always been so thankful for something as simple as running water that I can’t even describe the magnitude of blessing I feel for having a son as amazing as you are. I love you.Happy Thanksgiving,
Mommy

Just Thought it was Funny

Jorma and I are watching a Mac commercial for their new "green" computer. Jorma says, "You know, I was just thinking about Mac and wondering how they are going to stay in business. Right now when no one is spending money on anything that's not essential. And there's nothing that's less essential than a MacIntosh."

Death by Whining

Tristan is two years old. At first it was amusing. But now he’s been two years old for a whole two months and the whining thing is killing me. In fact, it’s possible that I’m not recovering from the stomach flu, or that I didn’t have a cold and the stomach flu at the same time. It’s possible that I’m dying a slow and painful death from the whining. That the whining is consuming my soul.
Sure, I know I should do something about it. But there’s nothing you can do… except ignore it. You have to ignore it to prove to him that it doesn’t work. But it’s so. damn. hard. It’s even driving Connor half mad. And when Connor stops turns on heel and yells, “WHAT DO YOU WANT TRISTAN?!” I can’t even scold him for it. Because it’s exactly what I was just about to do. Or just about to want to do. Or just did. It’s a good damn thing Tristan’s so cute.

Ghost Bob

Connor has a friend at school. We'll call him, Bob*. Connor talks about Bob all the time. They play fire-ghosts together on the playground. They see each other in music and in gym. Bob is Connor's best friend. If you just say Bob's name to Connor, his little face will light up and then he'll tell you matter of factly that Bob is his best friend. Jorma and I have a running joke that we'll go to the school and ask about Bob and get the response," There WAS a Bob here... years ago... but he passed away in a tragic accident".

So, when Connor had a birthday party last month, I invited Bob. Since I've never met Bob, but saw his name on the hook across the hall from Connor's room I dropped an invitation to the party in his tote. (The kids all keep a tote or bookbag on a hook with their name at this preschool). I thought this was a genius plan, to meet Bob and his Mommy, but Bob couldn't come to the party because he's in school five days a week and Connor's party was on a Friday. So, I waited outside Connor's class one day until I saw Bob's Mom, ( I know it sounds a little bit like stalking here, but you should see Connor's face glow when he talks about Bob), and went over to introduce myself.

She said that she had called and left a message about the party, but I never received it. She called again to leave her number and suggested that we get the kids together one day. I jumped on the opportunity. Although Tristan naps from 2-4 I was willing to rearrange the nap schedule for a day so that Connor could go to the park with his best friend. But it was raining that day.
When Bob's Mom called on playdate day to see if we wanted to come over, the words were barely out of her mouth before I agreed. No way was I going to miss this opportunity.

I had the kids snacked and dressed in clean clothes. I brushed their hair and wiped their faces. I really wanted my kids to make a good impression... you know, like, they'll set your house on fire, but aren't they cute in their sweaters?

We got to the house and an adorable little boy opened the door. We went in and I watched Connor waiting for the joy to register on his face. But he simply looked at me and said, "Mommy. That's not Bob"
That's right. Not Bob. Because Mommy that knows everything... didn't know to check to make sure there wasn't another Bob at the school. (In my defense I would like to add here that the real name of the child isn't as common as Bob, in fact, I'm surprised there is another with the same name at the school. It's a rather nice name for a little boy... it's just not that common). But I digress.

Bob's mommy, a gracious host, invited us in, laughed it off and then had the boys go and play. For me it was pretty embarrassing and Connor and Bob didn't really play much together. In fact they only started playing together a few minutes before it was time for us to go but neither wanted to stop playing. I liked Bob's mom , so maybe it wasn't a bad thing all together. Maybe Connor will just have two friends named Bob.

* Name has been changed to protect a child that I just met and a child that I've never met, that may or may not be a ghost.

300 Flushes

It's happened again. The stomach flu has come to town. Tristan had it Saturday but never threw up. It was the puddle in the diaper that tipped us off, but it's hard to tell with a 2 year old that has diarrhea if he's really sick or just ate a goldfish cracker that he's pried out from under the fridge. So generally if he's running a fever, we assume the former. This time we know it was the stomach bug that's going around because Jorma and I both got it. At the same time.
Monday evening I was cooking dinner for Amy's family, since she's about to give birth to her second child at any second, no really... and Jorma calls to say he's not feeling well and he's certain it's the ravioli that I made for dinner. I didn't eat the ravioli because Connor and I were going to eat with Amy, but I knew that it wasn't the ravioli mainly because I just knew. And I just knew it was a stomach virus. When Jorma called a couple of hours later to say he was now throwing up and Tristan was loose in the bedroom with him, I knew it was time to get home. Fast.
About that time I started feeling nausea of my own. At first I thought it was sympathy nausea, but then even before I got home I realized it wasn't. The only thing that comes on that fast is a stomach virus.
I made a gallon of Gatorade before I even went upstairs to check on Jorma because I didn't know if I'd be able to make it later. Because I could feel it coming on. Connor rallied for us, putting on his PJs by himself and putting himself to bed. I threw some PJs on Tristan and all but tossed him in the crib.
And two hours later I was puking my guts up. Violently. And then an hour after that. And then another hour after that.
Tuesday the kids stayed home from school, because neither Jorma or myself had the strength to get them there. Jorma and I took turns watching the kids and sleeping and then had "movie night" which is where we convinced the children very early in the evening, that it would be great fun to lay in the bed with Mommy and Daddy and watch Aladdin for the 900th time.
I guess in retrospect it could have been worse. At least Jorma and I were on alternating bathroom, whining and puking schedules. At least with both of us sick, laying in the bed like hound dogs on a porch, delirious with dehydration, we were able to crack a few jokes about how we both were really needing a colon cleanse anyway. Who says we never do anything together?

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 2 Months

Dear Tristan,
As a parent the first time you experience the terrible twos it can be quite tramatic. You don't know what to do... there is a plethora of information out there. Experts, doctors, even that tell you to ignore the tantrums. And if you look, you can find exactly the same number of other experts or doctors that will tell you that if you ignore the tantrums you can permanently damage your childs precious psyche. Who's right? Who knows? So you have to trust your instincts. My instincts with your brother waffled from ignoring, to comforting. But with you, I guess because I know that it's going to be over soon enough it's easy enough just to step back and observe. And I'm so glad that's the path that we've taken because it's so much less stressful. And sometimes, down right hilarious. Now that your Dad and I are practiced at withstanding the tantrums it's amusing to watch you fall to the floor crying hysterically because you can't have candy corn for breakfast.

When we take you to the park you automatically gravitate towards kids that are your brothers age, not understanding why they don't want to have anything to do with you. You are quick on your feet from years of keeping up with your brother and love to climb. In fact the other day when Daddy took you to the park, he said that you climbed the ladder to the slide over and over all the time singing, "climb the wadder, climb the wadder" to the tune of Ride of the Valkyrie. You do love to sing. You make up little tunes and hum them to yourself as you go about your day. Every night, if I put you to bed, you demand three lullabies. Wheels on the bus, London Bridge and Rock a by Baby.

We are trying to potty train you, but I think that you might not be ready just yet. You are more than willing to pee on the potty each time we take you, but don't quite get the concept of telling us when you need to go. You refuse to poop on the potty crying for a diaper when you need to go, which breaks my heart. I'd rather change diapers than hear you whimper because you want your diaper back on. It reminds me that as much as you want to be a big boy like brother, you are still a baby in so many ways.

You live to irritate your brother. Your Dad says you've had his number since birth and have the supreme ability to push him right to the edge. Sort of the same way that he pushes Mommy and Daddy's buttons just to get a reaction. I often try to get him to translate your words for me. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't. The other day you were whining and crying at the same time and kept saying the same word over and over. It sounded like you were saying "ick-tar" so after several times asking what it was you wanted and playing the guessing game which I name random things and ask you if that's what you want, I finally asked your brother what you were saying. He sighed loudly, not believing that I wasn't getting what you were saying and finally said, "MOMMY. He's SAYING ICK-TAR." I'm still not sure what ick-tar actually was, but I think it might have had something to do with ice cream.

Brother loves you, even though you torment him. We love you too, even if you do have temper tantrums because you can't get the ick-tar that you want.
I love you,
Mommy

Pumpkins

It's been 10 days since Halloween and I'm just getting around to posting. I guess I had to wait for the sugar high to wear off. Both of the boys were pumpkins. Really I was hoping we could do something like fireman and dalmation or even use on of the five million dress up pirate costumes we have in the dress up bin, but each time I asked Connor what he wanted to be for Halloween, he'd say, "A scary pumpkin". I tried again and again to give him the chance to pick something else, but he stuck to his story.


I thought that I'd just jet over to the local costume
shop and grab a couple of pumpkin costumes,
(beause of course little brother wants to be the same thing that big brother is) but imagine my surprise when I found that the only pumpkin costumes that are available, are for smaller children. The children Connor's age all want to be Jedi or skeletons so pumpkin costumes in his size... are only to be found on the internet. Truly the idea of just ordering a pumpkin costume is appealing until you figure in the shipping costs and realize that it may or may not be here for Halloween. And spending over $50.00 on something that might arrive the second week of November just not going to work for me.

So I went to the local craft store with 20 bucks and a little determination and wound up with a couple of costumes that were kinda of a pain to make but looked oh so cute on the kids. And the homemade factor was fantastic. At first I was a little sad because the costumes might look a little bit wonky because they weren't made in China, but they ended up being pretty damn cute. Once we wrapped a green glow stick around the stem on their hats they were set to trick or treat. Jorma took them out trick or treating and I sat with the neighbor and gave glow bracelets to all of the little goblins that stopped by. The boys racked up the candy which was promply "taxed" by mommy. Then they gorged for three days after which they picked 10 treats each and then left out the rest of their candy for the halloween witch. The halloween witch took the candy and left a toy for the boys. I'm not sure that the boys appreciate the Halloween witch, but I think the people that work with Jorma are probably quite fond of her.

Why Lazy Rocks

At first I thought about having a birthday party for Tristan… a big one. A party with a circus theme where our fabulous friends would volunteer to work a fishing booth, a face painting booth and pick a duck. I was going to give the kids tickets that they could use for rides and to buy their food. I was going to make signs and rent a bounce house.
I bought invitations, grab bag goodies from the internet and invited Tristan’s preschool class. Then about three days later, I came out of whatever haze I was living in and realized that, 1. that party would be a LOT of work and 2. I really didn’t have that much time to put into it. So, I called everyone in Tristan’s class, (only the ones that didn’t get the email that I sent) to tell them that the party was cancelled. No one asked why, which was good, because I didn’t have to explain that, his party was cancelled because in an attempt to make up for the fact that Tristan hasn’t yet had a “real” birthday party all his own, his own mother realized that he’s only 2 years old and probably wouldn’t remember which prize he got from picking a duck in the first place.
So then I decided to just do the circus theme for Connor’s party since I already had the ideas and the grab bag stuffs. Tristan would have just as much fun at Brother’s party and next year Tristan would have a big party of his own… I mean both of the kids are so little that we could take them to Dollywood, tell them its Disney and they'd never know the difference, but then again I realized… I had no desire to put the whole thing together. Without a play set in the backyard, what would the kids do for three hours? I am perfectly capable of entertaining 10 kids if the yard is set up for it... but entertaining 10 kids and 10 parents... well that's a whole different story, unless a keg is involved.
So, we decided to have Connor’s party at Space Kidets, one of the bounce places filled with arcade games and jumpable inflatables where you have your party in their space. We were able to have the whole place to ourselves for dare I say, just a little more than we would have spent having the party at our house. The kids bounced and then sang happy birthday to Connor and had cake. I didn’t even serve or cut the cake. It was fabulous. I didn’t have to spend a week cleaning the house. I didn’t have to worry about what we would do if it rained, (which is did). We just showed up, bounced, had cake and went home. It was wonderful! I loved it and so did the kids. I think they definitely had more fun than they would have in our backyard and it was completely mosquito free. And do you know what I did the night before? I laid on the couch, watched Jon Stewart and painted my toenails. I can't think of a better way to throw a party.

Rock the Vote

Yeah Baby! Today after dropping the kids off at school, my friend Amy and I waited in line for an hour and a half so we could vote. We didn't have any excitement in our line, no riots or arguements, no complaining or campaigning, in fact, we were the first 20 or so in line, since the voting did not open until 11am and we were there at 9:30am (Yay Amy for bringing me a latte!!!). Our part off the line just happened to go right through the kids section of the library which had chairs that we were able to sit in and a table that we were able to put our coffee on.
I missed having my laptop with me, had I known I would have brought it so that everyone in line could watch movie trailers for an hour and a half. It did make me feel sorry for Jorma who waited for 31/2 hours without his ipod or portable DVD player. I guess having all of the entertainment technology in the world doesn't do us any good when we leave it at home. Note to self, the ipod should be living in the purse.
I'm glad our household is finally done with our civic duty though, I feel kind of like I do when I finish my Christmas shopping. As far as who I voted for, (you know you are just dying to know), if you know me personally... you don't even have to ask.

Dear Connor - 4 Years

Dear Connor,

It doesn't even feel like it's been four years since you came into our lives. Time starts moving faster once you have children. Everyone tells me that in the blink of an eye, you'll be off to college and then having children of your own. Right now I just try to enjoy the years of your childhood before they pass us by. The occasions that you are still snuggly and sweet and in many ways closer to baby than to little boy.

Those times are further and further apart though. You are able to play with more complicated toys now. Toys that actually require action to work, turning a jack in the box or cranking up a car so that it will propell itself down the hallway. You've never had much interest in toys that don't DO anything. Give you a plastic dinosaur and you'll hold it for a while and then try to bounce it off of a wall by throwing it at the ceiling fan. Give you a play kitchen and you'll climb on it and use it to play king of the hill with your brother. But with a flashlight in a darkened room you are the happiest kid in the world. I keep trying to play Candyland with you, but you want to make up your own rules, (the rules that we end up playing by) which invoves no turn-taking, not keeping the same color game piece and just randomly grabbing cards and moving our men around the board. I really made an effort with Candyland to teach you about sportmanship and turn taking, but you just don't have the attention span for it yet.

You've mastered using the computer mouse. It's taken you several weeks to get it, but now you hold it just like Mommy and Daddy do when you play your games. The website for all of the cartoons that you watch, has age appropriate games that you can play and we can definately say that we've been taking advantage of it. It's nice to have friends come for dinner and move you into the office to play your games so that we can have an adult conversation that's not punctuated by a high pitched voice whining for cookies. We don't let you play that often but when we do, you absolutely love it. I can see how parents that have sworn never to have a video game in the house finally relent. Now when I watch you use the mouse I realize that your generation will start to have carpal-tunnel in their late twenties, from using a mouse from so early in life.

Your birthday was yesterday and it was a fantastic day for you. Your class sang happy birthday to you and you had special frosted birthday cookies after lunch. You had birthday cake after dinner and then got to open the presents from Mommy and Daddy. You got a book of spooky tales, a nerf football, a hypercycle set (two motorcycles that you click into a slot on a ramp so when you crank the hand crank on the side the cycles launch forward at top speed), a ring pop (which you promply ate), the 3rd in the series of Alladin videos and a memory matching game. You were beside yourself with joy. The joy wasn't even from the presents as much as from Mommy taking little brother upstairs so you and Daddy could race hypercycles down the hallway unmolested by your brother.

I'm glad that the terrible twos and tormenting threes are behind us now and we are now standing on the precipace of your boyhood. I think 4 years old might be my favorite age, because you are mature enough to carry on a conversation and have some self control but still young enough that I can carry you upstairs to bed.

Happy Birthday Baby-love,

Mommy

Train of Naught

I started a post late last week, but ran off to chase the kids for one reason or another and when I returned, the gmail format had completely changed and my post was missing. Not just from gmail or my computer, but also from my brain.
I tried to find it last night, but it wasn't in drafts or lurking anywhere else so I just gave up. Part of what sent me on the search was the fact that I remembered starting a blog post... but totally forgot what I was writing about.
This morning I remembered what I was posting about and decided to rewrite it at some point this week. Sure I forget things like everyone else, (especially when it's convenient) but for the most part, I've always had a really good memory. I'm not sure if it's old age creeping in, distraction or just being busy with the kids, but I could NOT believe that I just completely forgot what I had been writing about. How can I forget that, but remember every detail of the funeral that broke my heart? Why can't we pick and choose our details of memory? Ben Franklin said that he had a great memory because he forced himself to forget all of the things that he didn't need to remember. That would be great. Then I could forget my exboyfriends favorite color and remember my blog post.

Dear Tristan - 2 Years, 1 Month

Dear Tristan,
You've finally decided that you love school. Two days ago when you went in you saw your teacher in the hallway and went running, pell-mell, tumble-bumble, full speed ahead. There is nothing cuter than you running with your arms swinging all around you and a smile on your face. I saw your teachers face light up when she saw your smile and I know for sure, your super power is sweetness and light.

You have a sense of humor too and I just love it. You love to laugh but even more, you love making other people laugh. We are a pretty happy family as it is, but your antics crack us up... even your brother.
You have a natural rhythm and love music and dancing. I've seen many kids dance and most of them look like a monkey on expresso, but you can actually move to the beat. We encourage it too, not only because it's adorable, but because we are always trying to do anything and everything to let you work out that energy so that you will sleep.
I would be remiss if I didn't write at least something about the sleeping habits that you've developed. We took the front panel off of your crib, so that you could get in and out on your own. You do have a bed rail not because we thought that the 12 inch fall from your toddler bed would hurt you in any way, but because you might wake up from it and let the entire house know of your displeasure at say, 3am.

Because you have the freedom to get in and out of your bed at will, you've been experimenting with different areas to sleep in your room. We have a lazyboy chair in your room that we've sat in to rock both you and your brother as babies. This is your prefered place of sleeping. You get your blanket, (still called gankie) and a stuffed animal or two and curl up in the chair for a nap or to sleep for the night. Sometimes you read a book or two until you get sleepy and then just drift off.
Many times you try to crawl behind the chair into the corner and curl up with your blanket to sleep. I wonder if the corner is like a womb because it's enclosed or because you're just that stubborn. It does look cozy with you all curled up there, purple dinosaurs and all.

There is something else that I feel is necessary to mention and it's this, you can say either Mama or Daddy for 10 solid minutes, each word perfectly spaced apart so it sounds like a metronome. You do this because you know for sure that either Mommy or Daddy will turn around and ask what we can do for you. Anything to make it stop. It doesn't mean that you are going to get the cookie that you are demanding, in fact it's more likely that you won't and will deciding that your metronome method won't work that you'll try the tantrum method instead. And if the tantrum method won't work, you'll resort to throwing whatever is next to you or hitting your brother.
You are definately proving that you are fully immersed in the terrible twos... it's a good thing you're so damn cute.
I love you,
Mama

Just Finished Reading

The Road, Cormac McCarthy
This is a beautiful and tragic piece about a father and son traveling across the country in the wake of total global melt down. If you read this book, I promise no matter how bad your day is... you'll realize it could be much worse.
I'm trying to get the husband to read it now because I'm dying to talk to someone about it. I'd highly recommend it if you are between books and are looking for an intense read about total and complete devastation and the spark of hope and love. And then shoot me an email and let me know what you thought... and if you were ready to re-pack your survival bags too.

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 11 Months

Dear Connor,
I don't remember what time of day this picture was taken, but because you are watching television it must be around 9am. You and brother don't watch a whole lot of television mostly because, (and remember this when you have children of your own)... if the TV is on all the time, it won't work when you need it to. If I don't turn the TV on all day and then turn it on at 5pm when I'm starting dinner, you'll be glued to it. But if the TV's been on all day long, you're glued to me instead.
When I came into the living room to check on you and your brother, you had the chair propped up and were watching television. When I asked you to put the chair down on it's feet you looked completely baffled. And then of course you told me no. Then I said, yes and then we fought about it and then I took it away and you cried and then your brother started crying just because he thought he should help you out and I wheeled the chair back into the office wondering why everything has to turn into complete chaos.



In early September Grammy Kathi came to visit and oh did we have fun. The city we live in was holding a end of summer festival giving us a full afternoon and evening of entertainment. This was the first time that you've ever ridden a carnival type ride by yourself and you weren't as impressed as I thought you'd be. What you can't see in this picture is how you spent the entire time you were on this ride, turned around, chatting up the chics behind you.




Your first pony ride. Maybe by now you know how much Mommy loves horses and always wished for one. Mommy still wishes for one and believe me if we lived out in the country you would have one, but we don't so you'll have to settle for the ponies at the fair for now. You seemed completely unamazed by the pony ride while I walked next to you in a circle, with a large lump in my throat as you rode your first horse.



Daddy took this picture at the same festival right after you rode the pony. The sky opened up and all of a sudden the rain started to fall in drops as large as grapes. We took cover under the awning of a fudge tent where you Dad felt obligated to purchase at least one piece of candy. We all shared it and then after determining that we really weren't staying dry anyway, we sent you and your brother out to play in the rain. Truthfully, I think for the both of you, it was more fun than the ponies.

Near the end of our trip to the festival I rode the carousel with you one last time. In between waves at Daddy, I turned to look at you. You're belly was full of cotton candy, chicken on a stick and funnel cake. Daddy stood on the sidelines holding the Sponge Bob that he won for you while playing a water gun game. You were damp from playing in the rain. Just by looking at your face I could tell what you were feeling and it was total and complete happiness. I don't mean that you were just smiling and looking around. I mean you were so happy that it radiated from the depths of your soul. I felt it. It touched me and was one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen.
I love you,
Mommy

Dear Tristan - 2 Years Old

Dear Tristan,
A few days ago, you were standing next to me while I rummaged through the pantry and I offered you a graham cracker. You literally threw yourself onto the floor, across my feet and started a tantrum that lasted for about ten minutes. I at first was completely baffled. So baffled in fact that I just stood there for a few minutes trying to figure out what that was all about. Then I remembered that you are two years old. I picked you up, put you onto the sofa and then ate the graham cracker myself. That’ll teach you.In your defense I’d like to point out that the next day the stomach virus you were carrying emerged and I realized that maybe that might have had something to do with it as well. Sometimes, it’s just hard to tell.




For your (and your brothers) birthday Papaw and Nana got you a pint sized table and chairs. You love it so. Every day you go in and sit at your table and look at your books, pointing to the pictures of things that you know and saying them to yourself softly. It’s the sweetest thing ever.
I tried singing to you on your birthday several times but each time I got to the second line, you would put your hand over my mouth and say, “Sto” which is the way that you say stop. After Daddy came home and we had your mini birthday party you were so distracted by the cake that was being moved in front of you that you allowed me to sing without protest. And when we asked you to blow out the candle, you did it like you’d done it a thousand times before. I always knew you were an old soul.
You are getting into dinosaurs and are really starting to dig your crayons and paints. You are like Zorro with an ink pen and I have to confess to sitting down and crying one day last week when you took a permanent marker to the sofa in the playroom. The stain guard that’s on it can handle anything… except that. I was only out of the room for a minute… ok ok, it was four minutes… but not a minute more. I’m sure that you don’t harbor any guilt from it, which is just as well since it’s my fault for not moving the pens out of the child proofed drawer. The child proofed drawer that I caught your brother teaching you how to open. You see, your brother wants you to open that drawer. In fact, he encourages it, because he enjoys seeing you in time out. In much the same way that you enjoy doing something and then pointing at Connor and blaming him. If a complete stranger saw the two of you in a room together, they wouldn’t doubt for a second that you were brothers.


You’ve started school and we were lucky enough to get the same teacher the Connor had for you. We love her and so do you. The first few times you were dropped off you were just fine, but since have decided that maybe it’s not that great after all and that you’d rather be with me, asking where your brother is every fifteen seconds for the next four hours. As we approach the door you begin crying, but I know as I’m slipping away that I’ll soon be forgotten as you make paintings with golf balls and sing songs about wheels on buses and blind mice. When I come to retreive you the smile that awaits me is so full of joy that it was worth listening to the tears, just to see you so happy that I've come back. I'll always come back.
Happy Birthday Sugar Bear,
Mommy

Feed Me Free

For some reason I stumbled onto the Oprah site recently and found this article. It involves a 21 day body cleanse eliminating all meat, dairy, alcohol, caffine, sugar and gluten and I've decided to try it. Since quitting smoking, I've gained 15 pounds despite working out 2 or 3 times a week. I'm in the same clothes, so it means that as I'm gaining muscle and losing inches, I'm also gaining fat to take it's place and I thought maybe the body cleanse might be just the thing to jump start my metabolism again.
I'm on day 2 today and I'm already doubting my wisdom in this endeavor. Why am I doing this again? I'm looking for the extra boost of energy and clarity that is supposed to come from a body cleanse. I want to see if removing these things from my diet really is magical. Or just a bunch of hype. From day 2 I can tell you that the only thing that would be magical so far is a soy or rice milk cheese that doesn't taste like well, for lack of a better term... ass.

Currently Watching: The RNC

Ok, first I'd like to say that the baby that is so conviently placed in his Daddy's arms, sleeping, has got to be Benedryl-ed, (at best). Second, I'd like to ask where is the Palin family nanny? Why is the baby even THERE? Quite honestly if the baby can't be away from the parents during the RNC, this VP thing might end up to be a little bit of a hassle. I mean, not right away, because everyone loves a baby, but ya know, around the terrible twos it might make press conferences a little more difficult. But then again, maybe the Shew-ee in the Palin baby's diaper is just the tension breaker we need during Middle East peace talks.
And NO I DID NOT just see her 5 year old daughter, licking her hand and smoothing down her 4 month old brothers hair. OMG that grosses me out. I hope she didn't have curry for dinner. Would someone please come and take this baby put him in a quiet room with his blankie before his Ambien wears off? Poor little bitty.

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 10 Months

Dear Connor,
We took our last beach trip of the Summer a few weeks ago and you had a blast. You were almost fearless in the surf this time and kept demanding to remove your floaties so that you could swim on your own. You want to do what the other kids are doing and if they aren't swimming with floaties on, by God neither are you. Several times we fought over this. Mommy always won.

You throughly enjoyed chasing the seagulls this time and weren't at all weirded out by them following you around the beach after you had donated handful after handful of organic gingersnap bears to them. Only the best for the gulls at our beaches.

We visited the NC Aquarium while we were there and several times you touched a stingray as it swam around in the tank and when we visited the touch tank at the other end of the room, the "Touch Tank Teacher" came over and gave you and your brother a private lesson about horseshoe crabs and conch shells. You were very interested in the jelly fish tank but bored by most of the other fishes swimming benignly in their tanks. The sharks were fascinating, but even more exciting because in front of the tank was a large area in which to run and benches that you were able to climb on.

By the end of the beach trip, the day we were supposed to leave actually, you were laying under your bed, crying because I wouldn't bring your other flip flop in from the car. You had had enough. That might even be something that's quite reasonable if it was way past your bedtime, but it was 10 o'clock in the morning. We ended up leaving a few hours earlier than we thought we might.

On the trip home, you determined that you really liked David Gray and wanted to hear several of the songs on the album again and again. Just for future reference that album is called, Life in Slow Motion and the songs that you love are tracks, 6 From Here You Can Almost See The Sea, 7 Ain't No Love and 8 Hospital Food. It just so happens that those are the best songs on the album in fact. Quite honestly for the beginning of your life, I thought maybe you didn't get the music gene, but now realize that it was just a bit delayed.

Now that I've reburned a copy of Pearl Jam's 10, to listen to in the car (after wearing out 2 CDs since it's release in the 90's) you've developed a liking for it and I have to confess that when I ask if you want to listen to music in the car and you demand Pearl Jam I couldn't be prouder. I'm sorry I lost faith. I should have remembered that I was the same Mommy that took you to the Dr. when you were a year and a half old because I was concerned that you weren't speaking on schedule, only to hear you with a five year old vocabulary at three years old and I hope you never stop talking to me.
I love you,
Mommy

Watermelon

Carolina Anole

I love macro photography. It gives the viewer a chance to see things that the naked eye may not usually recognize. I'm not sure that this qualifies as macro photography and I wish that the focus was a little bit sharper, but this little guy lives on the front porch at the beach house.

Donkey Tail

Picture of the Day

Better Than Ducktape

Picture of the Day