I won...something I can't use

I nearly forgot to pick up my Market Day order today, and I completely forgot that this month's order included being entered into a drawing for a Razor scooter. So I was already a bit scattered when I walked into Reece's school's gym to pick up my purchases and completely bowled over when they told me I'd won the scooter! I can't say that I never win things, because during my childhood it seemed that every time my mom entered our names into something, I won one of the prizes (for instance, one time it was a spider plant - not very practical for a child, but I thought of it kind of like a pet). But my adult years have been much less successful. Of course, the scooter doesn't actually fit me and so was quickly given to Reece, but it still feels nice. And it gave us a good excuse to get the kids outside after dinner, since the weather was conducive to such activity. Here are some pictures of what I would call the true first signs of spring:

Greyson on his scooter, showing us how it's done

Reece trying the new one out.


The inevitable introduction of the squirt gun and aiming it at the youngest child (and then being told "We don't aim guns at people", which is really pretty unrealistic but we still say it).

The backyard after the snow melted. So that's where those bats went!

And not that this has anything to do with spring, but here is Dan's beard after 3 1/2 days at home with the kids on his own. We're all shocked by the amount of silver/gray/white (whatever you call it).

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

What all the best Dr. Seuss fans are wearing

Reece made this at school:They've been reading Dr. Seuss books all week and even celebrated Wacky Wednesday that involved a snowball fight (only allowed on Wacky Wednesday, of course).

And, here's what the best Dr. Seuss/Star Wars fan is wearing:


Probably the best tribute to Dr. Seuss (besides the above, of course), in my opinion, is the Rev. Jesse Jackson reading Green Eggs and Ham on Saturday Night Live. If you haven't seen it, you definitely need to.

Adventures in parenting: The snow day edition

Playing on the mound created by the snowplow on a SNOW DAY

This past Friday, both my kids had a snow day. Although this is probably surprising to those who don't live here but hear about all the snow the Cleveland area receives, it's relatively rare for our school district to cancel school for snow. Our city is small, area-wise, and quite urban, so at least the main streets get cleared pretty quickly. Plus, we're not in the "snow belt" part of the area, so we get less snow than those east of us.

So of course the kids were thrilled (we had a potential crisis when we thought Reece still had to go, and the UNFAIRNESS of it all), and Dan and I scurried to figure out what we would do with the two all day. Neither of our jobs was canceled, of course.

I had scheduled a hair appointment for 9am (and REALLY wanted to make that), then a meeting a 1:15pm at work, and then my welcome-to-40 baseline mammogram at 4pm in Dan's office building. Luckily, Dan doesn't start work until 1pm on Fridays, so we had some leeway. I went to the salon while Dan got the kids fed and dressed and called all the high school age babysitters we knew to see if they wanted to hang out with the boys for the afternoon. Turns out, they had all already made plans with friends and must have had sufficient spending money, or all the other parents got to them first, because they all turned us down. So, we moved on to plan B. While waiting for my hair to dry, I emailed work to say I wouldn't make the meeting (and then got a reply that they were canceling the meeting anyway because so many people were going to miss it). Then I headed home in time for Dan to leave, and we planned on having the kids hang out in his office when I had my boob-squooshing appointment.

Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch after playing outside

I packed up the boys and their respective Nintendo DSes, made sure they went to the bathroom, and dropped them off with Dan and a lovely fruit arrangement one of his students had given him. When I returned, only Greyson was in the office. Now, if only Reece had been there, I wouldn't have been concerned because Greyson has hung out there on his own before and knows his way around, and also, he's 9. No Reece was definitely cause for alarm. So I asked Greyson where his brother was, and he said in the bathroom with Dad. It turns out, Reece suddenly had to go #2 and Dan was with a patient. We hadn't prepped Greyson on what to do in this situation, so his advice to Reece was, "Hold it in, but if you can't, just go in the garbage can!" Luckily, it didn't come to that. I raced to the bathroom where I thought they would be and relieved Dan so he could get back to seeing his patients (and you wondered why doctors are behind schedule - now you know!). I was greeted by a surprisingly calm but ready to escape husband and a very happy, chatty boy washing his hands and COVERED in strawberry remnants. Apparently, the fruit arrangement put up a fight. My one regret is that in all the commotion, I forgot to take his picture before we washed it all off.

Photos from the mudroom

I've been waiting to get the mudroom "just perfect" before taking and posting the photos. Three months later, I've concluded that will never happen and if I don't take them now I never will. So here they are. These are all the cabinets we've ordered so far and probably will for the foreseeable future. The lighter wood cabinet was from my grandparents' house and although it doesn't match the rest, it is the perfect size for the location for now. The room has passed the snow/cold/wet test with flying colors, even with the addition of my nephews and their snow accouterments this past weekend, so we're good until somebody takes up a sport that requires lots more storage space or we acquire more kids or something.

View from the garage door (facing west).


Turning more north (clockwise).

Another clockwise turn, facing northeast.

And, facing south.

The halfway point

I have been 40 for just over a week, and I feel I can now look at this supposed monumental birthday with some objectivity. Really, I wasn't very worked up about it to begin with. At the turn of each decade (which for me coincides with the whole world starting a new decade - being born in a year ending in zero will do that) so far, I have felt like I wanted to be in the previous decade's age for just a little longer. Maybe decades could last 15 years?? I distinctly remember turning 10, have vaguer memories of turning 20 (21 is more momentous at that point), and was quite pregnant with Greyson when I turned 30. So for me, the 20s represented my "free" time as an adult, and the 30s were my young parenthood years (when I feel I aged 20 years just due to lack of sleep and exposure to whining). My doctor said she really enjoyed her 40s, when the stress of raising small children and building a career were done and things got more fun. I can already see that, especially since I will finally be done with all my schooling and training and be able to feel like a true adult in my field.

Since the life expectancy of an American Caucasian female is now 80.1, in statistical terms, I have lived half my life now. I know many people make some sort of bucket list of things they want to do by a certain time (often by 40, or they make them when they turn 40), but I don't have a desire do that so formally. I have, however, been thinking about the things I used to think I would have done by now and have reassessed whether or not I 1) still want to do them, or 2) realistically could do them. Here are the big ones, and the verdicts:

1) Learn to fly a plane.
I've always held this in the back of my mind, and I could have arranged to learn fairly easily at many times. However, I tend to get motion-sick on small planes, and what I really wanted to do was fly a jet (really, just do the take-off) without having to go through the training on a small plane. So I've quite happily given this up and instead try to enjoy every time I get to ride in a jet (and quietly pretend I'm actually flying it).

2) Learn to paraglide.
This one's pretty similar to the first, and I was reminded of it when we saw paragliders in Hawaii in October. I still would actually like to do this, but I'd be fine if I never get to. I just hope that if the opportunity arises, I will take the chance and do it.

3) Visit all 50 states.
I've already been in 35, so this is still high on the list of manageable achievements. The aforementioned Hawaii trip made it way more likely that I'll accomplish this, since now only Alaska has any serious barriers to my visiting it. One slight problem is that although most I haven't visited are in specific geographic regions (extreme southwest and northeast), there are a few in the middle of the country that I managed to skirt and don't see making a special trip just to visit (Nebraska, Oklahoma, and North Dakota, to be exact).

4) Bungee jump.
OK, I came up with this when bungee jumping first became popular, and before I had kids, and I can safely say I no longer have an interest in this.

5) Compete in the Olympics.
Also gave this up when I realized I didn't have either the talent or the dedication to be a contender in any of the sports, summer or winter. And now that I'm watching the winter ones, I realize that almost none of the competitors are even near the age of 40, and those who are are referred to as "seasoned" or "veterans". Good for Dana Torres - I'm out.

6) Become a concert pianist.
See #5.

7) Visit lots of countries.
Slightly less doable than the 50 states one, and a bit less specific, but still high on my list. Dan and I recently made an actual list of where we'd each, individually and together, like to visit outside the US. It turns out, we're both more interested in first world countries and amenities, so that should make it easier to accomplish as we get older. Highest on the list are Belgium, Germany, and areas where our families came from to do some genealogy research (Lithuania for me, Hungary/Slovakia for him). I'd also like to visit some South American countries, specifically to see Incan ruins and the Amazon, and we'd both like to go to Thailand and Korea just to eat the food.

Mostly, I'm right where I thought I would be at this age, so I'm just trying to be grateful. My boys made me cards and gave me hugs and kisses, and those truly were the best gifts. I never believed my mom when she would tell us that's all she wanted, but now I know. And I really only have one complaint. Is it too much to ask that the acne stop when the gray hairs appear??

Food, weight, and booties

We took Reece for his 5-year checkup recently and discovered that he hadn't gained any weight since his last visit in May of 2009. Now, when your child is in the 90th percentile, nobody really notices this kind of thing or gets concerned about it. However, when he is in the 6th percentile for height and weight, red flags start flapping in the wind. We're used to people being concerned with our boys' development, or at least with monitoring it, and we've chosen doctors for them who understand the genetic aspect and don't get too worked up. But when something like this happens, they (and we) still want to cover all the possibilities to make sure that nothing is going on.

So Reece has had an X-ray of his wrist to determine his bone age (fine) and been seen by a pediatric gastroenterologist (actually 2 - one was in training), and we met with a dietitian. First of all, they were reassured by the fact that Reece's weight to height ratio is still right on his growth curve and even think that the previous weight (when it did seem like he'd made a rather large jump) was inaccurate. And then they checked him out and talked with him and said he seems to be one of the healthiest kids they've seen. The following video seems to support this view:

But we're still doing some things to make sure that nothing strange is going on, so he has to have his blood drawn (I will no doubt be the lucky one to hold him down) and we're keeping a 3-day food diary for him that started yesterday. The day that we have Gymboree right after work/school and therefore sometimes get take-out to make life easier. Which is what we did yesterday, before I realized I was going to have to write down that he had half a cheeseburger (we forgot to ask for ketchup only so he didn't really like it), fries (Wendy's only other option is Mandarin oranges which the kids don't like - at McD's and BK we actually do usually get the apples or yogurt), and a kiddie Frosty (we had a free coupon). And 1% milk, when he's supposed to be having 2% at least. I will not be awarded the Mom-of-the-Year award this week, I'm afraid.

In the midst of all this, Greyson has managed to really fill out and is now on the upper end of the growth curve for weight, so we've been focusing on working with him to make healthy choices and have cut back for all of us on our fat and caloric intake. Which may have inadvertently kept Reece from calories he needs. Until we get the results of his food intake back we won't know for sure, and if it turns out he's not eating enough we're just going to add Carnation Instant Breakfast mix to his milks and that will add all kinds of goodness (and some processed food not-so-goodness) to his diet. In the meantime, I'm finding myself offering Reece food any chance I get and telling Greyson no almost every time he asks for anything beyond the main meals. And buying full-fat and fat-free versions of everything that has those choices. Gah!

I really believe that the result of all the testing will be that he's fine and we just need to monitor more carefully what he actually eats (and maybe give him more snack opportunities between meals). And in the meantime I get some chances to spend time with just him (even if it is holding him down for needles).

Five years old

Dear Reece,

A week ago, you turned five. And I can tell that this year is going to be the best yet with you, especially since life with you has improved every year since you entered the world screaming at the nurses for daring to take you from Mama's warmth and security and give you a bath. Really, you've been a pistol ever since but have settled down by now to a steady level of pistol-ness that allows you to be yourself without making the people around you ready to give you away to the nearest unsuspecting stranger. You hardly ever have any sort of melt down, but you let your brother or anyone else know when you are (justifiably) annoyed or offended. You still make the "stinker face", but it now indicates that you're being silly rather than obstinate. Mostly, you're sweet, cuddly, clever, and full of energy, and we all love to be around you.

You have a tendency to travel via hops and skips rather than just walking, so Grandma Phillips dubbed you "Mr. Hippity-Hop Skippedy-Doo". Your favorite thing lately is to see just how far you can jump, either off of something to the floor or into someone's arms. This routinely gives your dad heart palpitations, since your landings make such a loud and shocking sound. I've been amazed at how far you truly can jump, and I'm thrilled that you are not afraid to keep trying.

You also love your brother so much that it just overwhelms you sometimes. Just this morning, you decided you really wanted to catch up to him at the bus stop before he got on so that you could give him one more hug, and your despair at not making it nearly broke my heart. You want to do everything that Greyson does and sometimes have trouble understanding that there are things you need to wait to do until you are closer to the age Greyson is now. Although you don't realize this, there are many things we let you do that we never would have let Greyson do at five. I guess that's the trade-off for not having us to yourself ever.

You know how to read but would prefer to have someone read to you. But you do enjoy showing when you can read something - mostly signs when we are out running errands. You do a great job using the information around you to figure out what words are when you can't exactly sound them out. You are starting to figure out time - telling time and understanding it. You like big numbers, so whenever I mention a length of time in minutes, you ask me how many seconds that is. This has forced me to do some very quick multiplication in my head, and occasionally I have to ask Greyson to check my work.

You are also very logical. When I asked you, the day before your birthday, if you could please just stay four forever, you very matter-of-factly replied, "You know I can't do that, Mom. I just have to keep growing and growing." Because you are our second, and unless something bizarre happens, our last, I'm really trying to hold onto this time with you. Everything about you is still so little and cute but you can handle so much on your own. I even find myself asking if you will run an errand with me so I can have your company. Now if we could only get you to keep your clothes on when you go to the bathroom...

Love,
Mom

The elements of a successful (at least to me) 5-year old's birthday party

A fun location where the kids can run around with supervision and direction (thanks Miss Lauren!) and I don't have to clean up before or after:

A reasonable number (13) of well-behaved children:

All the set-up and goodie bags done for me:

And all I have to bring are the birthday boy and the cake:

(For anyone who doesn't know, the cake theme is from the movie Bolt. And no, I didn't make it.)

A disaster to give me perspective

My original plan for this post was a lamentation of our luck, or unluck if you will, with kitchen drains/garbage disposals. We've only lived in two houses, and in both we've had annoying backups due to clogs somewhere in the pipes under the kitchen sink resulting in (minor) gunky flooding. However, the earthquake in Haiti has made me thankful that I even have a pipe, or kitchen, or even house to complain about, as these things tend to do for those of us who are so far removed from anything so horrendous.

So instead, this post is about the American Red Cross, which has been featured prominently in the earthquake newscasts. Until Dan was deployed to Iraq in 2003, I had always thought of the Red Cross as an organization that took my donated blood but to which I neither had nor would have any real connection. However, two and a half months after Dan left, he called me (which was no small feat, as he was basically in the middle of the desert using bottled water for showering and a plastic bag-lined box for a toilet) to say that he'd received a letter from his parents saying his dad's heart tests were not good. I was surprised, of course, because here I was within a quick and inexpensive phone call from them and hadn't heard anything. Apparently, they were trying to downplay it to Dan so he wouldn't worry, but he figured it out and asked that I call the Red Cross and have him sent home. I didn't even know they did that sort of thing, but I hung up, called the local number, and a lovely lady took all my information about the situation quickly and efficiently. Long story short, within four days Dan was home. Sand caked behind his ears and only a backpack on his back, but there he was at the Fayetteville Airport. And I will be forever grateful to the Red Cross for that.

I don't know anything about the business side of the Red Cross - how much money goes to overhead or whatever - and I'm not saying anyone should or shouldn't donate to them or any other organization. I am saying that, in our situation, they showed how a relief organization should work. And from my privileged corner of the world, I'm saying Thanks.