Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Grateful

In the last couple of days, We've received word of a lot of sad news.
Several deaths of people peripherally connected to us:
The father of a friend from high school.
My boss's nephew.
My cousins' other grandmother.
The former associate pastor of our church.
Katy's dad's boss.

It's like every time the phone rings there's another death notice to check out. Yuck.

Also, Katy's uncle had a stroke which scared all of us and significantly effected his speech.

Still, the last few days have felt really peaceful for me.

Our beach vacation last week was a lot of work (4 kids under five years old, and three days as a "single parent"- though not really b/c I had a lot of grandparents and TT/Uncle Bill back up).

Let's just say a 'day at the beach' is not the "Day at the beach" it used to be at this point in our lives. BUT, To me, it was quite perfect*... The beach, the sand, the salt air, the sounds and smells of the shore, the suntan lotion, the walking and lugging gear, the outdoor showers, the commune-style living, the good food, the Bananagrams... Something in me is "patched up"; something I must have inadvertently torn over the last year, something I didn't notice was missing until I got a taste of it again. (sigh) My heart feels safe and content- all wrapped in a big warm beach towel with its hair drip-drying in the salty breeze, and its toes exploring the sand- still now, days later.

Sunday, it rained all day. Quiet, steady, awesome rain. And yesterday, there were some amazing chilly winds for the first time in months (not exaggerating). I've decided that 2 stormy, cloudy days are the perfect way to experience "home" after a week on the beach. It promotes naps and laundry and meal prep and strategic plotting of the coming work week.

JB, after spending a few days exhibiting unprecedented defiance, has relocated many aspects of his gentle self. Today in the car on the way to drop off, he said so many adorable things, I didn't even tax myself trying to remember all of them. ML has continued his beach-learned habit of 3 hour afternoon naps.

Tonight I got a facial and pedicure. It was pretty luxurious and self-indulgent for a Tuesday. When I finally got home, a "ready for bed" JB smiled and sniffed at me, "You smell so good, Mommy."

If gratitude were melted butter, I'd be that first forkful of lobster that gets dunked and swirled around and dunked again before held up, dripping to someone's eager lips .

*Thanks Mom and Dad


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Sent from my iPhone

Sunday, August 22, 2010

New Tap Shoes

Well, he's signed up for dance class.
And when we bought him these used shoes- his head didn't actually explode, but it was probably the best $5 we've spent in a while.
I guess all that "SYTYCD" with his mama really paid off.

Observe cuteness:

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Newletter: Month 34

JB,

Today you are 34 and some-odd-fraction months old.

Holy smmokes. We talk a lot about you in these here web-pages, but if these were supposed to be "monthly" newsletters, we (and by "we" I mean "I") have failed you.

You and I had a big fight at dinner tonight.
It started with Sit down and ended with you crying in time out and me red-faced, muttering, and pacing a few yards away.

The new thing from you is NO.
I mean all kinds and versions of "no".

There's the little, "do you want more milk?"
No.

And then there's the, "Please SIT in your chair."
NO.

And then there's the, "You are in time out."
NO, I am not going to time out... no.

The defiance comes with a touch too much whining for my taste...
"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaa! NOOOoooooo!!!"
And hysteria... at least it did tonight.

Since you have generally earned the nickname, Mr. Mellow, you can sometimes be like living with Dr. Jackle and Mr. Whine. Honestly, it IS hard to hear "no" to the simplest request, query, imperative (from a not-yet-3-year old) when your safety or comfort is at stake... I am sure this will be as hard or harder when you are 7, 10, 13, 16, 21 years old, but i guess my thought is that at least you will have the vocabulary for a fair debate and enough of a grasp of the concept of cause-and-effect for me to not have to be the only one "choosing my battles".

But these events are not without my own emotional response. And our similarities are already emerging as reasons we will butt heads: stubborn, watery, sensitive, brave, wishy-washy-not-sure-what-i-want-and-that-is-hard-enough-to-deal-with-inside-of-me-let-alone-having-to-try-to-convey-it-to-you, DON'T BE DISAPPOINTED IN ME, and LET ME FIGURE IT OUT ON MY OWN! heads. Sweet, sweet boy, you and I are a lot alike.

But, you are also like your Mama- she won't go into the Ocean unless I beg or trick her either. You and she notice things I miss every day. Things I would miss completely if you weren't pointing them out: "Hear the crickets, Mama and Mommy?"

It's been several months now that we are blown away by the way you are calculating and figuring out the world, grouping ideas and things together correctly, extrapolating out notions that seem impossibly wiser than your age.

You know all four components of your given name; you know your address including city and state. You know what we need to do in different weather- what to wear if it rains or snows or is hot, why we put the windows up or down, when we use the windshield wipers, why lights go on at night; You look for stars and the moon when the sun starts to go down. If you see a digger, you ask how he can do his work without a dump truck. When you see a telephone pole, you tell us about the wires attached and what they do, what they are for. When you see our neighbors leaving, you ask where they are going... and we have to think up 5 or 6 "maybes"... "Maybe they are going to work... Maybe they are going to visit their kids... Maybe they are going to the store..." we joke that "everything comes down to safety": hard hats, lights on cars, reflectors, lines on the road, seat belts, windows that don't go all the way down, treads on shoes... When answering the incessantly asked question, "why", I would estimate, 80% of the time the answer is ultimately safety. But that's not satisfying to you:

JB: Why that truck have a step there?
Random Mom: because it is too high without a step.
JB: Why?
RM: so that the driver/worker can get to the top without getting hurt.
JB: Why?
RM: to keep him safe
JB: Why?
RM: It is probably an OSHA violation; his employer needs to prevent repetitive motion injuries and calculate what step size is ergonomically proper to avoid undue stress on his joints.
JB: Oh.

It sometimes seems as if you will only accept the answer that is above your pay-grade, and then your reaction is a very mellow, "oh." As if, "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

You are getting good at pretending and telling stories. Your cousins have helped you learn about pretending. The three of you are constantly "taking our orders" in your pretend restaurants and you alternate between having every imaginable food we can conjure up OR telling us, "We don't have that here," to all the items we request. It is adorable but maybe makes us think we go out to eat too often.

JB loves sports: the world cup on TV, baseball, basketball, our softball games. You are starting to understand the difference between the games and the rules, the positions, and the teams. You take turns being the batter and the pitcher, the kicker and the goalie. One day, you used 4 sippy cups to tell me which were the on the soccer team that "had the ball" and which were on the team that "didn't have the ball" (this was based on the color of their tops). You also have followed Mama's lead in your affinity for dance as a spectator sport. There's this show called, "So you think you can dance" on TV which I hope (by the time you are able to or interested in reading these newsletters) is a faded memory. You and she sit and watch and rewind and cue up your favorites for me to see. There was one where boys were dressed at ball players and "danced it out"... it was like all of your favorite things rolled into on 3 minute segment.

We bought you a pair of "tap shoes" which are really a pair of plastic, purple girls shoes that make noise as you clip-clop across the floor. We set out to buy you some flip-flops but when you wandered over to the girl's section of the store and used your most politely hesitant voice to ask, "Can I have these?" We just couldn't leave them behind in the store. You couldn't nap for the entire weekend after we bought them b/c they were on the floor near your bed and it was too exciting to sleep with those shoes just sitting there. We are sufficiently convinced that you want to try to dance and in the fall there's an "all sports" class at the Y at 9am and a tap class down the street at 10 am... I think if we buy you real, authentic, ACTUAL tap shoes, you will soil yourself in excitement, so... I mean... CLEAN UP IN AISLE SIX... bring it on...

Your vocabulary is impressive. Your conversational skills are ever-improving. See this post for a few of my favorite, recent items. Despite your obvious smarty-pants status, you have developed this somewhat annoying habit of asking, "What?" when really you know exactly what we said and what is going on. You've had trouble hearing in the past due to the difficulty with your ears being full of fluid, but if we just spoke louder every time you asked, "Whattt?" (you like to really enunciate the hard "t" at the end) it would be like a school for the deaf around here. Then too, we've noticed that if we just don't respond to the "Whattt?" you tell us what we said. Your Mama complains that I have a Premature and exasperating "What" that is part of my vernacular, and I have also heard you say my "which one?" That is one of mine too. You had an ENT appointment last week which revealed that both of your ear tubes (Placed in January) are out, so now we will have even a harder time determining if your "Whattt" is related to water-logged hearing or absent-minded distractedness.

Speaking of trips to the hospital... In June, you got your first stitches. Briefly, here's the tale. ML was sent home from school with a fever. He puked all over me and then when I handed him off to Mama, he puked all over her. in our brilliance, we were carting him all over the house, trying to calculate how best to get him comfortable and cleaned off, so he puked in about 4 or 5 rooms of the house. I took you to come mow the lawn with me so you would be outside, and I was worried about your safety in the backpack carrier, so I buckled you in with your sunglasses on and took 5 steps away to get the batting helmet that you love to wear (safety first.) You kicked yourself over and the sunglasses cut your forehead when your noggin' hit the pavement. We called your TT. she came over in less than 300 seconds. It was the dinner hour and Mac was in nothing but a tutu. Dried blood caked all over your face, you asked your cousin, "Why aren't you wearing a shirt?" She deadpanned, "Why is there blood all over your face?" When I said, "I'm sorry buddy, I think we have to go to the hospital." You started sobbing a staccato alternative: "We'll... stay... here.. you mow the lawn... I'll sit ... and ... watch... I fe...el bet...ter." You got 4 stitches. The trip to the ER took 5 hours. You are stuck all summer wearing a bandaid over your forehead to try and prevent the sun from making the scar more noticeable. I felt terrible for at least a week, but then I made up some story about how it would have been much worse if I hadn't buckled you in the carrier- that's the story that I'm sticking to kid.

You've started using expletives like, "Awesome!" and "Cool!" to describe things. You use the words, "actually" and "also" and "holy guacamole"... you are clear on what drink is an "adult beverage" and what is a "kid beverage". The "Actually" kills me... I just love it. We say it all the time, but when it come out a kid's mouth, it is just so funny.
This exchange typifies the adorableness of it:
Me: JB, what's your favorite letter?
JB: um... 'A'
Me: That's a good letter.
JB: Ummm, actually, it's 'B'

You also hear words and they make you think of other similar sounding words. When you overheard your grandpa use the word, "mediocrity," you looked at him and said, "And also, I have crocks on."

You finally started treating ML like he is occasionally intruding on your perfect world. When he comes crawling towards you and the toys you are playing with, you have started say, "NO," to him. (surprise, surprise) You do this when he starts to crawl away or toward the stairs too, "NO" as if you need him to stay still for you to be comfortable. This makes sense. Your brother is very different from you- he is all "go now, ask questions later" and you seem to have always been a "Let me take it slow and think about things before I move" kind of kid. We are pretty stern with you about saying "NO" to ML. We try to tell you that you don't have to protect him or your toys that you can tell us and we will steer ML to safety... that you can just explain to him how to do things, but this is coming out as instinct "NO, ML," and to be honest, your mommy and mama are surprised at how long it has taken for any territorial behavior to show up.

Then too, I would be remiss if I did not point out how often you reach toward him with a soft touch to say 'HI' and how you don't react hardly at all if ML swats at you or climbs on you. You continue to be an absolutely amazing big brother. All we could have hoped for and more.

You are doing great at school. The teachers say you are one of the best kids there: polite, friendly, happy, smart. You have made it clear that you remember your old school, but you prefer the new one and that is a relief for us- we would have been very heartbroken if this transition seemed to have hurt you somehow.

Your favorites right now:
Food: spaghetti and meatballs (still)
Color: Orange (still) but at least 1/2 the time you will tell us your favorite is orange AND red
Favorite toys: trucks, "soft things" (puppy, barry white, polar bear, teddybear), glove-balls-tee-helmet, puzzles,
TV show: Handy Manny
Potty training status: Mostly dry, most nights... sometimes not, but otherwise completely potty trained. (as it's been for nearly 6 months now)
Patented "JB kisses": 'two handed' - one hand on each cheek of the person you are kissing.

We can't believe that you are going to be 3 years old in less than 2 months. You are getting so big and despite all of the "NO's" you are lobbing at us on a daily basis, you are as sweet as honey from the hive. We are astounded at how cute you are and smart and beautiful... It sure makes it hard to be stern with you and consistent when you misbehave. But we will figure that all out...

We love you very much!!!

Mommy and Mama

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Missed opportunity

Yesterday was 8.9.10.

I spent the whole day writing 8/8/10 and then today I realized it was 8/10/10.
FUCK

This really bummed me out.

Last year, I spent all of July 8th enjoying the date and I was convinced ML would be born on 9.9.9.
But Yesterday, I blew my chance at that kind of once in a century date-reveling.

--
Sent from my iphone

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Two things...

1) We just had the most insanely AWESOME thunderstorm from about 6 to 6:30 am.

2) Yesterday, Prop 8 was ruled unconstitutional and overturned by a federal judge in CA.

This is a big (fucking joe bidden) deal.

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Sent from my iPhone

Wednesday, August 04, 2010

The Puzzle Master and The Foodie

I wish I were writing more... I miss it.
We have been planning for a big party this weekend, trying to fix up the house, trying to organize and plan.

My sister: Sometimes I think you only plan parties so that you have deadlines for your projects...
Me: That is absolutely the reason we plan parties.

We are excited to see friends and family. These children and this year of getting acclimated have affected our social life. So I have been staying up late and trying not to fall asleep on the way home from work.

Softball ended Monday night. It was a terrible game. We were shutout and lost via the "mercy rule." It was a fast game, and there's nothing to make you hate the mercy rule like a game that is over in 51 minutes, I mean come on!!! There should be an associated time component: you can only get mercied after the 5th inning if you've been playing for more than 90 minutes.

Anyway, it was a weird season for all the rain-outs we had and it was much hotter than usual, and this was Katy's and my first season trying to both play with 2 kids. Our team aunties and Nana and Papa and Grandma Bella helped us to accomplish this and our boys (and their moms) are better for all the nights they (we) were breathing in hot air at the field for 2-4 hours during the week.

It was like the team we had 15 years ago- nearly all of our fans under the age of 7. Our team composition has changed a little every year. The cooler caddies are turning into meals (you've got to feed these kids). The 2 teams that merged (was it 3 seasons ago now or 2?) have definitely jelled into one team.

Katy and I continue to look at this ever-evolving group and marvel that many of our best, most genuine, reliable, generous, supportive, laughter-filled, friendships were born of this low-pressure women's league softball team in the town of Midpoint. These people have helped to raise me, allowed me to help raise them, their kids, and are helping me to raise my kids. This is nothing less than a network of support and crazy sanity.

Regardless of the final score, we break bread (read: chips and dip and some times BBQ or take out) and sip beers (and juice boxes). And recount a strategy to do better or at least have more fun next time. Every year game I try not to pull muscles. At least once a night, a warm breeze washes over sweaty skin and one of us chants, "a day at the beach". Or this season, "NO REWARD".

At the end of the season, I always worry a little, "What will next year bring?" I only hope more of the same unexpected, simple, fun and a sense of "found time" outdoors with peeps.

I will do a photo update and newletters for each of the boys soon (I SWEAR!!!)
For now, briefly:

SeƱor Destruction (as we've taken to calling our younger son) is finally... getting some bits of food down the back of his throat. He's been "eating" and "feeding himself" for a while now- about 4-6 weeks, I think: bits of cheese, avocado, crusts, pasta, apples, mango, many fruits other than strawberries... ML long ago (2 weeks) rejected tiny bits of food for larger slices and chunks he can gnaw on, but he is like the cookie monster: The stuff goes in, he spends a good deal of time chewing it, and it falls or is spit out in tiny pieces.

We can recycle perfect piles of food from his bib and put them on the tray in front of him and he will continue until we are left with diced produce. It is very interesting and not like JB progressed in his eating at all.

ML looks like he is eating, but if you train your eye on him, eventually, the stuff comes out. Chew, chew, chew, chew, chew, spit out. He's still on formula and baby food, so we are not worried about his calories, it is just a funny little trait of his. This week that may be turning around. I think a few pieces are actually making it to his esophagus and stomach.

ML also is insistent about walking everywhere. He wants to walk non-stop while holding ONE FINGER. He does this thing where he is holding an adult's finger with one hand and he takes his other hand and grabs you to steady your hand so that he may either adjust his grip on the finger he is holding, or select a new, sturdier finger to cling to. It is a strange demonstration of genius and my father said, "It pretty much freaked me out how smart he is- that seemed like too high a level of reasoning for a kid so young."

JB is blowing our minds too with his sudden capacity to put puzzles together. Katy and I don't know why this is so impressive to us, but a few months ago, he couldn't really do any puzzles except the ones that have a picture of the exact thing that you are putting into the singular cutout- one hole for each piece. Now, he can just somehow do puzzles. He is cautious about not wanting to do it wrong and will often repeat, "Can you help me? Can you help me?" But we realized if we treated that question as if he said, "Can you watch me?" Instead of jumping in and helping, he can do it all by himself.

He also got a new bike- 2 wheeler with training wheels. He's had it for 1.5 weeks and has ridden it almost every day. The progress he has made in his ability to steer, start, and stop is also amazing to us. Maybe we are easily thrilled, but I this is where it gets hard not to limit a 3 year old by what your sure he probably can not do.

Katy and i have talked about paying serious mind to and trying to implement some research that we learned about from Adam: that kids who are told, "You did so good, you are so smart! I'm proud of you," are much more likely to not want to try new and harder things, than kids that are told, "You did so good, you must have tried really hard! I'm proud of how you chose to stick to it".

I can already see in JB some of what that study concluded: if success is tied to the labels "smart" or "good", moving on to harder things might mean losing those labels. But if success is tied to working hard and not being afraid to try, than moving on to harder things only requires being willing to put forth more effort. "I guess I can try harder next time," is a much easier on the I-want-to-please-you soul of a child than "I guess you must have been wrong when you called me smart".

It's a good lesson for me even in evaluating my adult learning processes and successes and failures too.