Friends of ours foster rescued cats and took in a pregnant boarder at Christmas. Five kittens were born on Sunday, February 3rd, and we decided to adopt one. A few weeks after the kittens were born, we made a visit so the kids could meet the kittens as infants - so small they fit into the kids hands! Ross and Lars were both very gentle and very much in awe of such tiny cats. Chris decided which kitten we'd have - he liked the pink nose and pads on the little white girl with black spots. Also, she reminds us of Oliver (although she will hopefully not get quite so large as he did!). We had to wait ten weeks before we could take our kitten home.
Angela, the woman who fostered the cats, is amazing! The mama cat didn't seem to know what to do with her kittens. When the kittens would get out of the box, the mama cat would just cry for them - she wouldn't go get them! So, Angela stepped in to help with things like moving the kittens around and litter training them.
Angela's brother took some wonderful pictures of the kittens, which were fun to get during the wait. Today, finally, the waiting was finally over! Ross cleaned our cat carrier and set it up with a fresh towel and a new toy. He also scooped the litter box, a chore he's going to help with now that we're a two-cat family. With all the preparations made, we went to pick up our kitten this afternoon.
Initially wary of her new surroundings, the kitten spent about an hour checking out our dust bunnies, darting from under one chair to under another. The boys watched from the edges of the room, hopefully waving toys and calling gently, and curiosity finally won out. By the two hour mark, the kitten was playfully batting toys from all directions and happily trotting out to meet the neighborhood kids who flocked over as soon as word of our new kitten got out.
We've named her Kippah because it looks as if she's wearing a yarmulke and because "kippen" means "tumble" in German, which kittens do a lot of.
Ross was delighted when Kippah jumped into his lap. Lars was a gentleman when he decided he could wait for his laptime - he found Kippah parked on the still-warm heating pad Chris had been using on his shoulder and was kind enough to leave her there.
For all the playing, Kippah didn't nap at all this afternoon. She tried to once or twice but there was just too much excitement. Even after the kids went to bed, Kippah wandered around for a while, calling, and wouldn't settle. Finally, though, she calmed down. After trying and failing to nurse from my couch cozy, Kippah fell asleep. Here's a life-size picture...I think she likes us:
A lovely family in my town sent their child to school today KNOWING THEIR CHILD HAD HEAD LICE. I gather they did not want to waste any vacation time taking care of their child, since they'd just returned from a vacation (where their kid got lice).
So many facets of this baffle me, especially since there was an outbreak of lice in the fall and we had to endure a month of Head Lice Lockdown at the school, so we know what we're in for. During Head Lice Lockdown, all personal belongings must be secured in large, sealed garbage bags which are kept in the school hall, not in the classroom. Each time a seal is breached, the bag is discarded and another bag must be used. The school custodial staff must de-louse every inch of the school. Concerned Parents will hire Lice Specialists and host head-check parties (I'm not kidding - we got invited to three last fall).
The school nurse will whip out her cheery notes to send home each day, reminding us all that Head Lice Can Happen To Anyone, Head Lice Does Not Indicate Socioeconomic Status, People With Head Lice Are Not Unclean, etc. Great pains are taken by administration to prevent anyone knowing which child(ren) is(are) affected. In this case, I imagine the protection will be doubled as I am absolutely certain that if any of us find out who the rude, socioeconomic equals are that sent their louse-ridden child to school, we will all go egg their house. Send your kid to school with hives! Hives are not contagious. Send your kid to school with a cold! We have tissues. DON'T SEND YOUR KID TO SCHOOL WITH HEAD LICE. We do not want to nit-bomb our house and burn all our sheets. Excuse me, I have to go scratch my head.
A few weeks ago, Lars came home from school glowing with enthusiasm. He LOVED SCIENCE! Science was SO COOL! He could do science EVERY DAY! His enthusiasm was contagious and we were all in a good mood as we listened to him gush about how much he adored science. After a while, the germinal fact came out. 4H had come into his classroom for a special "dairy science" activity where the kids made (and ate) yogurt parfaits. Suddenly, it all made sense!
Lars continued to be vocal about how much he loved science (particularly, though not exclusively, when in the dairy aisle...) so, when the school sent home a flier advertising the 4H Sciencesational Day, we signed up. The kids each got to attend three classes and there was also an opening presentation by a "Scienceteller". The scienceteller wove several audience participation science experiments into a story about a dragon kingdom. The experiments involved something exploding or dry ice or fire, so everyone was completely absorbed. Both kids elected Dairy Science (make-your-own ice cream). Lars also did classes on Reptiles and the Seashore; Ross got Star Labs and Panning for Gems.
After the opening show, Chris and I had Two Hours On Our Own, which was an unexpected (and very welcome) bonus - we'd thought the parents had to stay to chaperon in the classes. When we returned from our coffee date (during which we didn't have to remind each other about manners or behavior even once) to have lunch with the boys, we found them blissfully unaware we'd even left. They'd found friends from school in their morning sessions, so we all had lunch together and then observed the last class before heading home to bask in spring sunshine and play baseball in the yard.
For those interested, I've posted pictures of the kids playing in the Rochester Rumble hockey tournament at Flickr. It was their first travel tournament and we all had a lot of fun. The Bears Club brought seven teams to the contest. Everyone stayed in the same hotel (the one with a pool AND a bar) and there were SO many of us that it gave the impression of living in a small town. You couldn't step into a hallway without running into a Bear or some blue & white hockey gear!
A few poor souls who were not with the Bears were also staying in the hotel. I was waiting for an elevator with a knot of them when, in keeping with my family tradition of running into people in the strangest of places, one of them called my name. I turned and found myself standing with my hairdresser's sister and her son, who were there competing with a team from Buffalo! Small world...
Rochester is about an hour from Buffalo but a great many people made the trek to see the boys play! It was a lot of fun cheering with aunts, uncles, grandparents and cousins. Another family tradition? Cheering signs. Everyone pictured here is from our clan:
Our family made a great addition to the Bears' usually loud cheering section - they fit right in!
Chris' parents gave Ross a digital camera for his 9th birthday. Actually, they sent money so that Ross could go and choose the actual camera himself, a system that Ross was especially fond of. We took him to a store that has a pretty wide range of active demo models and, with a little guidance, Ross decided on an Olympus FE-280. The FE-280 is only slightly bigger than the palm of my hand, so Ross can reach all the buttons with ease and the control interface is simple to understand and navigate. The backside of the camera is almost entirely LCD screen, so images can be enjoyed right away (a HUGE win for the kids, who are usually clamoring to see their picture before you've even snapped it).
Ross stared at the charger for the entire initial charge, dashing to the bathroom only in times of extreme need and always with the near-panicked rush of someone who fears losing his place in a crowded line. As soon as the battery light switched to green, Ross whipped the battery out and began taking pictures. He is very fond of (and already quite good at) arms-length self portraits. I think it helps that he is inheriting his father's freakishly long arms:
This month has been flying by in a haze of long workdays spent in the city. The boys like a good guys' night now and then, so they can eat hotdogs or other food items only a guy could love, but there are only so many guys' nights even a guy can handle.
Usually, I plan the guys' nights into the menu so there's only one (or maaaaaybe two) per week, with regular meals (still fast and easy to prepare, but featuring actual food) otherwise. We stock up at the weekend and Chris makes whatever the menu lists. Lately, though, we've been busy or away at the weekends, so shopping gets pushed off to Monday, when I work at home and Chris goes to the lab. Which means shopping gets pushed off until Tuesday, when I'm in the city and Chris is facing a string of guys' nights, for which the stuff we have laying around (pasta and cheese or chicken nuggets and tater tots) will service. Not being home, I can't complain much and we muddle through with maybe a midweek milk run.
Yesterday, with a half-hearted start to a grocery list in my hand, I found myself standing in the kitchen feeling lost. I'd surveyed the provisions on hand and had decided to make the best of a bunch of lasts - last of this kind of spaghetti, last of that kind of spaghetti, last of frozen corn, last of frozen peas, etc. We're starting the third week of not having a solid meal plan and I'm feeling as if we are wandering the abyss. Who knew how attached I've gotten to meal planning? It's been a good long time since the cupboards were bare enough that I couldn't scrape up something in the way of a meal I'd serve to sudden guests. It's not a financial predicament; only a calamity of time and motivation.
Tune in tomorrowwhen we'll probably feature pancakes (we have eggs and bisquick) or Thursday, when the ground beef might have defrosted and we could chop up some more lasts to manage tacos. Wave to us on Friday as we head out for the weekend again and look for my sorry self wandering the kitchen again on Monday, wishing the grocery fairy would hurry up and figure out where we live. If you're wanting more than some blue cheese stuffed olives and a bowl of Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its, you might want to wait until April to drop by.
5:45am - Wakeup (sort of); shower. Think about the happy jig I would do in honor of the last Mites away game, if only I were a little more awake.
6:00am - Lars has huge sneeze. Gob of mucous gets stuck in his throat and he gags a little. Recovers; seems bouncy.
6:05am - Breakfast. Wonder how the children can be so talkative at this hour and how long I can go without actually giving a response.
6:25am - Pile into car; drive to Morristown.
6:55am, 100' from entrance drive to rink - Lars pukes a little.
6:56am: Chris pulls car over in rink driveway but not before Lars pukes a lot.
6:57am: Lars pukes some more, thankfully now outside the car.
6:58am: Another Bears family arrives. Situation is quickly assessed, Ross and Chris go with other family; I wait for Lars to feel a little better and then take him home. We drive with all the windows and the sunroof open. We freeze but it's better than the windows closed option.
7:30am: Lars makes it to the house before the next round.
7:35am: Lars goes to shower. I start laundry and clean car.
7:55am: Lars asks if he can have a granola bar. Uh, no.
Head to Kinkos to pick up large prints order and make even larger copies. Kinkos is out of toner. Out of toner?!?
Head to Alphagraphics to make really large copies. Alphagraphics' parking lot is flooded and I'm caught out without my hipwaders.
Head to Staples to make ridiculously large copies. Wonder if I can expense drive-thru as well as the cost of the prints since this is taking much, much, much too much effort and time and those empanadas were a really long time ago. Decide against an extra trip around the traffic circle in my hunger delirium.
Arrive home, boys at hockey. Scarf half a can of peaches with cottage cheese.
Take off coat, answer phone, arrange yummy leftover baked chicken & asparagus in toaster oven, set timer, check e-mail.
Ding! Turn chicken, which is all gross looking and still cold?
Turn on toaster oven, reset timer.
Ding! Turn chicken, decide it's warm enough, eat.
Boys get home - hang hockey stuff, finish homework, snack, showers, bed.
Contact LLBean's about having rolling suitcase handle repaired. They're just going to replace it - great news! Also order matching large-size suitcase since they are discontinuing the style and price is therefore darned cheap. Refrain from adding cute overnighter and wrinkle free blouses.
Complete filing for sport insurance related to broken leg incident last summer.
Fill out the school Math Survey (Ross)
Fill out the school Math Survey (Lars)
Create Quizlet Multiplication and Addition fact sets
Package the Box-Tops-For-Education and send in
Google Map all the places I'm supposed to be this week for work; get depressed by the extreme unlikelihood that I will get anywhere on time.
Google Map the appointment that wants to be squeezed in. Laugh out loud when total one-way travel time exceeds 2 hours. Make a note to call and revise the idea of being "squeezed" in.
Still on my TTD list:
Find out if my team is doing the tournament in Warminster
Get July town day-camp forms (not on website yet)
Add 08-09 school calendar to Google calendar
Revise taxes since bloody real-estate fund didn't report until the end of FEBRUARY (ugh)
Get bloodwork done (becoming critical; appointment to review results is on Monday)
Write to Carol (waiting for 3-on-3 game schedule)
Get March book group selection & read it. (I'm such a bum)
Casual dinner! Leftovers of your choice, eaten when you like, probably while reading a magazine. Lars is very fond of showing me ads from New Jersey Magazine for upscale appliances, Vanna White style. Ross usually peruses National Geographic KIDS or Lego Magazine. I have trade publications, Antiques,Scientific American and Traditional Home to choose from. Tonight, I'd gathered the trade publications, figuring I'd whip through them and save the leisure rags for the weekend. Ross ate while I was warming up my own selections but he hung around the table while I ate, chatting. When I returned to the table after clearing my place, I found Ross deeply absorbed in an article. Closer inspection revealed he was reading the National Fire Protection Association Journal. The cover picture of a burned airplane caught his attention and he'd leafed through the journal until he found the article. When I asked what he was reading about, he told me it was the story of an airplane in trouble - how it was going too fast when it landed and had to take off again, but it didn't get high enough so it crashed into a building and lots of people were killed - more people than in any other crash in Brazil. He needed help with 'tarmac' and 'collision' and referred to Porto Alegre as 'Port Algae'. Not too bad, for just-turned-nine! When he got into the nitty-gritty discovery portion of the research article, he asked me to read it to him and we finished about half before bedtime. We'll pick up again tomorrow - do you suppose the NFPA would object to a Webkinz Goober's Lab bookmark being used in their publication?
It is widely known that I am the Parent Most Likely to Curse In Front of the Children. Despite the fact that a defining moment in our early history revolves around a missed volleyball and my very loud and sailorish comment shouted in a yard full of Mormons, Chris schedules activities likely to cause cursing, like breaking the glass on our oven door, for times when I am not at home.
Chris and the boys had a guys' night last night, while I worked late in the city. They made 'Daddy Mac' (homemade baked macaroni & cheese), which bubbled over in the oven. Later, they had a few errands to run and Chris set the oven to clean as they left, thinking it would make a nice surprise for me to find when I got home. He thought I'd come home and head straight for the oven and when I found it clean (!), I'd be all, 'You cleaned the oven!' and he'd be all, 'Yes, I did!' and the evening would be marvy.
When they got back from their errands, Chris was dismayed to find the ashy post-cleaning residue all over the inside of the oven. His visions of homemaker triumph fading fast, he warned the kids that the oven was Still Very Hot, then spritzed the inside of the oven with kitchen spray cleaner to deal with the white residue. He'd turned around to grab a cloth to wipe up with when he heard a mighty crack, which reminded him that combining very hot glass with very cold cleaner is a very bad idea.
Were I the hero at this point in the story, I'd be teaching the children a few Very Bad Words. Chris narrowly avoided the use of profanity by announcing, "THE OVEN IS STILL VERY HOT," and I'm given to believe that we'll see a note (and possibly a social worker) if either of the kids mimics his inflection while they are at school.
What happened next? My wonderful husband, who cleaned the oven for me (squee!), simply closed the oven door - cold spray cleaner, ashy residue and all. By the time I got home, the whole incident had been forgotten and it wasn't remembered until tonight, as I was putting together a french toast casserole for tomorrow's post hockey breakfast. Anyone know if you can bake with three or four big cracks in the oven door glass?
Lars is home sick today. In between trips to the bathroom, he and approximately 37 stuffed friends are installed in the living room, watching TV while I work in the den. "Mama? I want the R-O-S-E-T-T-A Stone," he calls.
"You want the Rosetta Stone? Why?"
"Because I want to learn new languages!"
"Which ones?"
"All of them." He'll be a handy guy in hockey locker rooms.
Sometimes, when your friend calls you to come over and play X-Box, you don't want to go. You know, like when your yard is full of fresh snow and dragons.
9:33pm, e-mail from my sister: "...I just got home from the grocery store with cheddar jack Cheez-Its. ...because reading your blog made me want to try them!"
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I lunge for the phone, sending the cat flying off my lap and causing my husband to look up with grave concern. The call rings and rings on her end and I get agitated, wondering if she's ignoring the call because our house phone comes up as 'unlisted'. When her voicemail picks up, I slam down that phone and grab my cell, praying the dying battery will hold out for one more call. It rings and rings again but she answers and relief washes over me. "DON'T OPEN THE BOX," I shout down the line. Chris looks really worried.
"What? Whaaat," she answers, clearly startled.
"The Cheddar Jack Cheeez-Its! Don't open them," I say with urgency. Understanding washes over Chris' face and he looks a bit strained as he realizes what's going on.
"Oh," she says brightly, "I just had my first one!"
"I'm too late," I wail, and slump in my chair. Chris looks stricken.
"I've been reading about them in your blog and I went to the store hungry (which was a mistake but, you know...) and I had to look really hard for them! Did you know there are a LOT of different kinds of Cheez-Its now?"
"Well, there goes your new salary," I say.
A pause, "WHAT?" She sounds shocked.
"You'll be spending more on Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its than you know. Any money you have left will be for buying new pants - I swear I'm wearing at least three pounds of CJ Cheez-Its these days." She laughs. She thinks I'm kidding! How cute. I roll my eyes and Chris pours another bowl of Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its.
Sister K and I chat a while and, as we're wrapping up, I tease that I'll leave her alone to eat her box of Cheez-Its. "They are REALLY good," she says. "I mean, I thought how different could they really be, but these are REALLY GOOD! I snuck one while we were talking - I sort of sucked on it so I wouldn't crunch in your ear." Only two CJCI baked snack crackers in and already, she's hiding her use. The need for a CJCI 12-step program just nudged ahead of the need for a Webkinz program.
Lars is standing next to me, peering hopefully at the computer in case I might be doing Webkinz. Unfortunately for him, I'm working - also seven letters and starts with W but not nearly as much fun to watch. Looking over at him, I notice a freckle just behind his ear. "Did you know you have a little freckle back here," I ask, touching it gently with a little tickle. "I think you should move it out here on your nose, where it belongs," I say with a little poke to the tip of his nose.
He looks at me with a grin, "Mama! I want my freckle back there. I moved it from up here (indicates forehead, near top of nose) last week."
"Well, what did you do THAT for? If you'd left the freckle there, gravity would've had it down on your nose properly in just a few years! See my nose? All MY freckles are right there, where they belong."
Another grin. "No....you have a LOT of freckles on your ear! So many they are spillin' out your ear!"
"Oh! Is THAT what I clean up with Q-tips every morning? Leaky freckles?"
Ross had to be collected from school today for assorted stomach related disaster reasons. Lars observed the collection from the playground and managed to develop a "large sore throat" that had the school nurse ringing Chris by the time he'd made it back to the house with Ross. Thankfully, a little gargle to soothe the throat enabled Lars to finish out the day, collect his own and Ross' homework, and get the bus home.
The first grade is learning units of measure and the assignment today was for Lars to find four small objects, measure them and draw them on his homework paper, showing the units he measured. You may recall we're having a bit of an affair with Cheddar Jack Cheez-Its? (Oh, who are we kidding? Sunline Brands is practically sending us birthday presents - even our CAT is crazy for them!) Lars is no fool! Set to the task of finding small things to measure and draw, he turned first to his snack. He sketched the Cheez-It with excruciating detail, measured, recorded, and then called out, "Daddy? How do you spell Cheez-It?" Chris assures me that three other items were selected to complete the assignment but he is unable to recall a single one of them. Here's hoping CPS takes a pass on the chance to call on us regarding our blissfully unhealthy choice of snack foods. Failing that, here's hoping Lars can also diagram a celery stalk, if it comes to that.
Dear iPod Earphones Guy: Your music (ahem) was loud enough that you couldn't hear your singing - the rest of us on the train were not so lucky. Please give up singing for Lent.
Dear Woman Who Was Too Late to do Her Makeup at Home: waving the air after spraying your perfume did not dissipate the smell. Also? I really did not need to see you pluck your nosehair. Some grooming habits really should be kept private until after the wedding.
Dear Woman Who Carries a Perfume Spritzer in Her Purse: Spraying your scent in the direction of Ms. TLtdHMaH did not improve the situation, but thank you for not deciding to pluck anything.
Dear Very Loud Cellphone Guy: We are in the same industry. I've tried carrying my company bag logo-out so you'll notice but you're always on a call and looking at your hair in the window reflection. That job you were so worried about today? It's gone to your competition, who also rides our train. You might consider making important business strategy calls from a more private location.
If two people are proximal, engaging each other's eyes and speaking alternately, are they having a conversation? I've been pondering this since dinner a few nights ago, when the following exchange took place:
Lars (in sickly groaning voice): My stomach, you know, here (indicates left armpit) hurts, so I can't cut my noodles.
Ross: My report card came home today.
Lars (normal voice): My teacher is MORE than 18. She's past the teens, she's a TEACHER.
Mouths full, they gazed at each other, nodding slightly in that way you do when conversations at meals pause for chewing. Both seemed satisfied and neither was grumpy the way they get when "nobody is listening to my important speaking," and I was left to wonder if I'd tippled more of the wine for the sauce than I'd thought.
"I got a GLOWSTICK! And another one, to take home!"
"We had hotdogs for dinner. Pizza is more fun but we had hotdogs so I ate those. And, I said 'thank you,' I didn't say, 'but I wanted pizza,' Mama, you were SO proud."
"It was me and Dylan and Nicholas with Evan and we slept in a TENT! In the house! We really did."
"These are my bugs from the Bug Hunt. I used my torch to find them in all the dark places. They are toy bugs, though, Mama, so I didn't have to squish them for you." [Ed. note: Since the age of 18mos, Lars has been chief bug squisher at home. He'll do in any bug, barefooted, without a second thought. I appreciate his ability and willingness...but eeeew.]
"Evan opened his presents right in front of us!"
"We watched a movie and then we went to bed and do you know what? We went to sleep ....PAST MY USUAL BEDTIME. We really did!"
All in all, I'd say the first sleepover was a hit.
Lars is going to his first sleepover party tonight - a much anticipated gathering that will have a camping theme. He has been alternately so excited that you can't understand his speech and so apprehensive that you'd think we were sending him to sleep among strangers under a bridge. Luckily, at the time of departure, he was on an excited upswing. I gave him nighttime kisses in the living room which he returned joyfully, without seeming the least bit disturbed. The host family are good friends of ours who live only a few blocks away and the party is for a small group of close friends. There will be pizza and glee for all, I'm sure! Well, ok, maybe not all. The poor parents who have invited four seven-year-old boys into a home with three boys in it already might not be exactly gleeful until tomorrow morning, when all the extra kids go home...
Our homemade Valentines were a hit in both classrooms today! The boys were happy to have something they made to give their friends and I am happy that the nearly full bottle of dark blue glitter glue I shattered on the dining room floor cleaned up pretty well. The floor has only a tiny hint of glitter left between the boards, which I'm choosing to think of as added character.
When I was young, I promised myself that I would have as much cake batter as I wanted before actually baking the cake. Lunch today? Sandwich with a cupcake sized portion of batter for dessert. It's good to be a grown-up sometimes! (For those of you about to phone county health, I don't add the eggs until after I've had my unbaked share)
Enthusiastic boy stands beside frothy bucket, cleaning tools in hand. "Tell me what to do and I'll PLUNGE my way through! I'm MOPPER DUDE!!!" Energetic mopping ensues. Three, perhaps four mop strokes in, the boy pauses with a look of revelation in his eyes. "Hey, look! I'm almost as tall as this mop!"
Hello? Who is this? Oh! Evan! Hi. Just one second – MAMA – It’s for me! You don’t have to worry. Hi, Evan. I just had to tell Mama she didn’t need to answer the phone.
Unplugging the digital camera from the computer does not disconnect your cell phone call.
A nearly-nine-year-old boy can find many more hours of contentment in a room "with nothing in it" if you ask him to empty the trash than if you simply send him to his room.
Being grounded from electronic toys is much, much worse when houseguests bring you a new Webkinz border collie or German shepherd.
Eating lunch can be exhausting. So much so that I'm starting to wonder if it's worth even trying to send Lars to school tomorrow.
Chocolate cravings can be specific - any chocolate, even very good chocolate, might fail to satisfy.
Lars came home from school sick on Wednesday and got worse until Friday when Chris took him to the doctor. Strep cultures came back negative and he seemed improved yesterday but he spent today coughing in that way that makes you want to catch the lung you're sure is about to come flying out. By dinner, he'd used up his energy. He managed to join us for some bread but poured himself onto the couch right after and was asleep behind a barricade of pillows moments later - he didn't even have the energy to turn on the TV.
Chris is picking up Wisa Wisa and Brianna from the airport now. I'm hoping they will not get whatever scourge Lars is battling while they're here to visit!
Ross wants to play Webkinz but can't, since he's grounded. So, I'm going to play my Webkinz instead...just to show him what he's missing. I'm sweet like that...
Almost everything that has happened today has been annoying! If the view out my den window wasn't SO nice and sunny, I would certainly be in a foul mood. As it is, I'm looking out the window as often as possible and wondering if it's just me or if the world is really not running quite right today?
"I went to Wegman's today because we needed milk," Chris says a little too casually. I look at him with suspicion, narrowing my eyes in hope. He whips open a nearby cupboard and drops his voice, "I also got another box," he gasps before quickly closing the cupboard door on the flash of red box. I let my breath out with relief. We have more!"And guess who I saw," he continues, "in that aisle? The Sunshine GUY." My heart quickens and I wonder if Chris remembered. "I asked if they make a bigger box," he pauses and my chest swells with hope, "but they don't." We look at each other, devastated, then Chris says, "We'll just have to buy a couple of boxes for the pantry. Running out again is not an option."
Curse you, Fraukow! Curse you and your introductions to ridiculously addictive snacks!
Sister K made it to Austin! She drove her car behind mom, who drove the rental truck full of all my sister's stuff. They left Arizona good and early Sunday morning and just called to say they'd gotten to my sister's NEW TOWNHOUSE! They were doing a happy-dance in the backyard, not having picked up the keys from the realtor yet (they dropped off the truck). Look for pictures and stories on her blog...but not soon, since her cable won't be installed until later this week. Still, send her some comment-love! She'll appreciate the messages all the more after a week with no internet access.
Lars got his final birthday present this week - new hockey gloves! He's in a size that our local shops didn't have much selection in, so we shopped locally for feel and style and I found the fit on eBay for 1/3 of retail cost (woo hoo!). Note the happy accident of Sabres colors! The new gloves have already been play tested in two games, admired by all in the locker room and are reported to be very comfortable.
I got a new stick! It's bright green. Chris actually got it for me quite a while ago but I haven't used it, since I haven't been skating. Well...practices last month went well, so I tried a game yesterday! We played a PA team with a couple of women from the tournament team I broke my leg for over the summer, so it was a fitting return to the ice. We lost but my leg held up well! I played another game this morning - a win! - and we have one more set up for tonight. Every year, we play a game on an outdoor rink at a club in Summit, which is a lot of fun. They're predicting snow for tonight (despite the fact that it's been in the 60°s this week...), which would make it even more fun but I suspect the weather won't turn until after the game is over. Either way, I am SO glad to be back on the ice!
Update, 10:07pm: We tied the outdoor game and celebrated with the other team after with sandwiches and beer. A 1-1-1 record is not bad for my first weekend back in the games!
The boys had an afternoon hockey game at home on Sunday, a singular treat in a sea of 7:00am games they play this year. To mark the event, Chris made little paper slips with the game information on them so the kids could let their friends know about it. Lars took and handed out handfuls of the info slips. Ross didn't want any and didn't hand out any of the ones Chris tucked into his knapsack.
During the week before the game, Lars would report on which kids he'd talked to about it, who thought he could come, who probably couldn't. He was excited and animated and...such a huge contrast to Ross, who flew into a rage every time the subject of telling friends about the game came up. His tantrums dissipated into despondent, heart-wrenching sobs that had Chris and I befuddled - we just couldn't figure out what was going on in Ross' head and he wouldn't (couldn't?) tell us.
Saturday afternoon, Lars wanted to call a boy he hadn't been able to give an info slip to (he ran out). The problem was that Lars didn't know the boy's last name (he's in the grade ahead - they play on the playground together) and he has a common first name, so there were a lot of choices in the school directory. Even after using our best narrowing down skills, there were three different boys it might have been. Lars was in favor of calling all three; I was in favor of not calling any. In a rare moment of clarity, I suddenly realized what the problem was for Ross - he feared rejection.
Lars invited the world, happy to hand out information slips and talk about the game with anyone he got within arms' reach of. Lars didn't seem to think that everyone he invited would come, or even that most of them would, he was just happy they knew about it and figured maybe a couple of people would come, if their parents could bring them to the rink. For Lars, inviting people was fun; whether they came to the game or not didn't really matter.
For Ross, the inviting part was scary. What if someone he invited didn't come? It would be ok if they didn't come because they had something else on the schedule but the thought that someone might not come because they might not want to come terrified Ross. As I realized this, I remembered exactly how it feels to be scared of handing out invitations for fear of rejection like that. I grew up feeling that fear but it never occurred to me that Ross, a dynamic group leader, a kid who will try almost anything, might fear rejection by his peers.
When I explained to Chris what I'd figured out, he agreed that's probably what's going on. Since talking about it sends Ross flying off the handle, we're going to try a stealthier approach and give him more practice at inviting people for things. We've already started, by simply suggesting that we have an afternoon free next weekend - maybe he'd like to ask a friend over? He's already made the call and a plan has been made. We're assuming that regular invitations will give him practice with both acceptance and rejection and hoping that the practice will make rejections easier for him to deal with. Most of the time, finding myself in my kids is fun but this time, it's just making me sad.
The kids played their last hockey game of 2007 this morning, at the relatively civilized hour of 8:50am. After, we divided. Chris took Lars for a last shopping run while Ross and I gave the downstairs a quick once-over and then started making blue cheese bacon puffs to eat with our friend Rob, who came over to watch the Bills vs. Giants game. We were planning to do wings and fries but we couldn't get any wings, so it ended up being pizza. The Bills dominated the first quarter and put up a good effort but the Giants earned a decisive win in the end with some great plays (88yd turnover TD, anyone?). Rob brought the kids little RC tanks with instructions in Engrish that took a while to figure out but once we got them set up, the kids busied themselves building The Biggest Barricade Ever! out of their sneakers and the fort walls that came with the toys. The tanks are parked in the plaid chair, for easy access in the morning since there's no school.
It was raining a bit when Rob headed home, so Chris checked the basement. We still like to do a happy dance when it's dry - or at least I do, since 1/3 of my kitchen remodel fund is down there - but, alas, no dancing today. The rain driving in from the south pounded the large windows in the kitchen and dining room on that side of our house harshly enough to make pools in the windowsills. This, and the dirt clogging the sill drains combined to cause the water to leak through the window frames, onto the floors and then to drip down through the floorboards into the basement. (What is it about holidays that causes rain in the basements of Blackman homes? At least ours wasn't sewage, for which I am VERY thankful!) We pressed all our scrap towels into service soaking up the puddles and Chris did his best to clear the sill drains - not an easy task in the driving rain or in the dark. As long as we were wet and busy with the windows on a dark December night, I got out ammonia and a scrubby and took the fall grime off. This had the unplanned yet delightful side effect of cleaning my rings, so they are sparkling brightly now and, with another glass of rum (thanks, Rob!), I might just be able to be distracted from the monsoon coming into our house from the south.
We'd been in our new house for three weeks before we were startled one afternoon by blaring sirens and the loud, blatting honks of the Fire Chief's jeep. Worried because they sounded so close, we looked out the windows and saw the trucks coming to a slow stop IN FRONT OF OUR HOUSE. Hearts pounding, we sniffed the air and looked for the children. Then we noticed the neighbors' kids running toward Santa, perched atop the Ladder Truck!
Four years later, our kids' inner clocks are now set to listen for the sirens on the Saturday before Christmas. They keep shoes by the door, ready to spring out whenever Santa might drive by. Lars heard his the sirens first this year and everyone jumped into shoes while I grabbed the camera. It's fun to see all our neighbors at once! We got to meet Minnie, the new puppy across the street and catch up with everyone's holiday plans. We'd been standing outside long enough to be officially chilly and were starting to wonder if Santa and his chauffeurs had been called to duty when we saw them coming! Having Santa come by our house is SO much better than suffering the mall! We might not get tree ornament style pictures out of it, but the home-based memories of seeing Santa with all the kids' friends on the block will survive, good photos or no.
9:09pm, feet on the stairs. A serious voice, "Mama, I need to tell you something."
"Ok," I call and with my verbal permission, Ross appears fully downstairs.
"I was in my bed and I heard something 'pop'. I went to the bathroom and, apparently, my tooth came out." He extends a palm showing the apparent tooth and gives a not-so-toothy grin. This is the fourth tooth he's yanked out in the hour or two after bedtime.
"What made it apparent that your tooth came out?"
"Mama," he giggles, "It's here in my hand!" How will he stave off bedtime when he runs out of baby teeth?
I am stuck in Syosset. By the trains, I am now nearly four hours from home. I missed the two-and-a-half hours from home train by three minutes. I am having murderous thoughts about that guy who just HAD to extend the meeting by ten minutes to discuss a personal agenda. The worst? I have to be out here again, tomorrow morning at 10:00. Here's hoping I get home in time to get the train back!
With nods to SpiceGirl & Joy's month of being thankful, I am incredibly thankful right now for the Dunkin' in the train station parking lot, where I've got food, an outlet to save my battery, and a weak but useful wireless connection. Thank you, open router person...thank you.
...but not for this. This is entirely the fault of our dentist. She has known Ross a long time - more than his whole life, in fact - and she enjoys facilitating. We love her!
In other news, I'm getting my USA Hockey Ice Coaching certification. I took the Level 1 course last weekend and hope to have completed Level 4 by the end of 2008.
The kids got to watch the NHL players skate warm-up before the game Friday night. Lars, enthralled, had his forehead pressed against the glass. During the butterfly drill, one of the players winged a one-timer from the point that hit the glass where Lars had his head and gave Lars his very first NHL bruise! See that purple lump with the red middle, just above his radiator scar? That's from getting hit by an NHL puck! As Lars said, hopefully it will be the first of many - he couldn't be more proud.
The Bears skated well as the Mites-on-Ice that night. You can see the video here, if you'd like. After they skated, they got chocolate ice cream (see Lars' chin...) and cotton candy which probably isn't good for my reputation.
I skated team practice tonight! I almost made it the entire hour and a half but decided to err on the side of caution and sat out the last ten minutes or so when I got to the far side of discomfort. An hour later, there isn't much swelling and I'm medicating with a beer so I think I've got some hockey feet again!
Question: The spider web I've just noticed in the top corner of my den window has an impressive collection of little gnats trapped in it. Should I let the spider stay? She hasn't been there very long - I actually vacuumed in here (I hope you were sitting down, Mom...) last weekend.
I skated today! The cobbler put extra grommets in the back of my skate boot, so the tie doesn't land right across the break anymore and I grabbed a few minutes of ice time before the kids got on this morning to test the modification. Happily, I think it'll work and I'm going to see if I can start skating practice after Thanksgiving!
We're seeing a lot of early weekend mornings this year because we have to get the kids to their hockey games which, at Mites level, usually start around 7:00am. Our club usually has an away game on Saturday, so we have to get an extra early start for the travel.
We've been trying to find ways to make these early morning hours more palatable but 5:30am is difficult to combat on any day and Saturday is worst. Last night, Chris had the idea to call our Starbucks and put in our order so it could be ready first thing and we could just grab it. Staying in town until 6am for the pick-up would put us just on the edge of late but we figured having coffee would be better than not, so I called.
Nicole gladly took our order but then called me back, really apologetic because they don't open until 7:00am on weekends and I'd asked for the order at 6:00am. She'd checked with the opening staff and they could get in early to do our order but it wouldn't be ready until 6:15. I was touched that she'd gone to the trouble of asking the guys to come in early and even more that they were willing to come in for us...but 6:15 would have made us really late for the game, so I had to just cancel the order. I'm not sure which one of us was sorrier!
We were unquestionably on-time for the game and the kids played well despite their parents' slightly groggy overcast. We stopped for coffee on the way home, which worked out fine as it was still only 8:45am. We got bagles, too, since the kids were asking for lunch and going home for bologna just seemed wrong at that hour.
The third grade is learning about personal measurement references. One of the homework assignments this week was to pace out the perimeter of your bedroom and some other room in your house, which you were to draw on the back of the paper. Ross picked my and Chris' bedroom as his other room and very carefully drew a floor plan on the back. He paced around our bedroom and bathroom, very carefully drawing his paces in little circles around his floor plan. He also drew in the toilet at the far end of our bathroom and our bed, neatly made (as if...), with Chris lounging atop it, his feet toward the pillows and a Pilgrim-buckled hat on his head. I'm hoping the absurd hat didn't call into question the (equally absurd) neatness of our bed covers!
Driving to an away game, Chris and I were discussing whether organ doners can become research cadavers. Attempting to argue for the contrary, I proposed the scavenged bodies could be handed to prospective dissectors with an immediate pop quiz, "Here's your cadaver, what's missing?"
Over Chris' derisive snort, Lars called from the back, "Abra!"
Today was Mites & Midgets Day, an annual torch-passing ceremony for the kids' hockey club, celebrated with the youngest team at the last home game of the oldest team. The Mites (youngest kids) have a game in the morning, then get breakfast in the rink's banquet room. After breakfast, they go into the locker room with the Midgets (oldest kids) and hang out. The Midgets come out to help with Mite practices, sometimes, so the kids aren't strangers to each other. The two teams also have the same head coach this year, so he knows all the kids quite well and had a good time pairing them up.
After the locker room pow-wow, the Mites got on the ice to participate in the game introductions and a ceremonial puck drop to commemorate the last time these older kids will play on home ice for the Bears. Here's a video of the game intro:
The ceremonial puck was dropped by a Mite (name picked from a hat):
After the opening ceremony, the little kids went back up to the banquet room for a hockey-puck pinata and got commemorative T-shirts from the Midget Moms. It was a sweet day. As I stood watching the puck drop, Mites between Midgets twice their size, I sighed and said, "Tomorrow." The mother next to me chuckled, "Yesterday," in response and I knew she knew exactly what I meant.
I sank into a seat on a train from the Lower East Side to Columbus Circle today, grateful for the rest especially since my phone can't ring in the subway. I had my briefcase across my lap - it's exactly the width of the subway seat divisions, so I don't seep into the next chair but the train wasn't crowded and there was an empty chair between me and the next guy. A stop after I got on, a large woman boarded, surveyed the train and decided to sit in the empty chair beside me. The problem was that she was considerably wider than a single chair. She MUST know this, yet she still sat down...half of her right on top of me! I figured she'd get right up but no - she glared at me instead and said nastily, "Would you move your bag?"
Voting scares me - it feels like a test I've had a year (or four) to prepare for and yet, every time I get into the little booth, I feel like I haven't studied. I'm generally aware of the candidates for major positions but some of the minor lines throw me. County Clerk? I have to vote for that person? What sort of platform should I expect, "I will faithfully record County real estate transactions and will do my best to ensure name changes are filed with the State in timely manner?" How might the platform differ from party to party? No matter how much research I do ahead of the vote, I always feel unqualified to choose.
This year, I had a personal chat with one of the newcomer candidates for town council. He seemed like a nice guy and I agreed with the things he had to say about our town. He was also genuinely interested in my concerns - he even sent me a follow-up letter addressing one point on which he did some research after we talked. I did my own follow-up research and found that, while I liked that guy, I wasn't keen on some of the things his party's been up to.
On the heels of more research than I've done before an election in quite a while, I turned up to vote with a measure of confidence I'm not used to. Still, I found myself torn in the voting booth - would my newcomer be able to change the direction of his party in the ways he talked about? Or would it be better to vote for him but then vote for people from the other parties - people with platforms I also agree with - for surrounding positions? Splitting the ticket is always awful, right? Nobody agrees? Ack! I jabbed some choices, left some blank, and exited the booth feeling the same sort of turmoil as always. Maybe next year I'll get the right answers?
I just purged 196 contacts from my Outlook address book - people who or companies that no longer exist or for whom I couldn't gather up a single memory. I kept about 25 entries that I can still "remember" based on notes but, harsh as it may seem, if I can't remember you and the note I put in your entry doesn't help, you're no longer in my address book. I also ditched three entries for people whom I hope to never hear from again...which pretty much means they will call this week. Actually, I sort of hope they do - one of them owes me money.
Nothing gets a house clean faster than a 10:00pm call from German cousins saying they're stranded at Newark - is that close to your house? We spent the day at a funeral out of state and have to get the kids to a hockey game at 7:25am so, realistically, my house was otherwise not going to get cleaned this weekend. It's pretty shiny now, though, in an I hope they're travel-weary and will be thankful for a warm bed and clean bathroom sort of way. Ah, but who am I kidding? Lately, that's the best anyone's likely to get. The beer's cold and the door's open - come on over!
As fall first tried to approach this year, Chris and I discussed shelling out the bucks to have our fireplace fixed so we could use it. "Working Fireplace" was one of the reasons we chose this house but, as with many other parts of our house, the fireplace endured an upgrade by the Drunk Uncle and is currently too shallow to use. I fear that human bones will be found behind the false rear wall but our chimney sweep has said he's willing to take that risk - he's brave like that.
Then, fall stalled. Absurdly warm weather returned and we got some torrential rains, which reminded us that our extension ladder is just short of useful for cleaning out the gutters along our top roof. With water pouring out over the edges of our clogged gutters, Chris arranged a visit from one of those maintenance-free gutter companies. I briefly mourned the postponement of the fireplace repair but it poured again that very night and I forgot to be sad. There's always next year, right?
Now, they're threatening us with rain from Hurricane Noel. We're eager to see how our new gutters will perform. Anxious for the leaves to fall and for the gutters to still drain the rain down the appointed spouts rather than spilling over like a waterfall outside my den window and the front door. It was supposed to start raining today but instead we had one of those gorgeous autumn days they always show in movies. Considering how much we just spent on gutters, Murphy's Law will probably kick into action and save our entire neighborhood from rain for the next six weeks. When it does rain - and you know it will - we'll be ready, complete with several interpretive dances to honor our impressive water management systems and a really, really, awful kitchen.
Friends who should be relatives came to town last weekend to sing in a memorial tribute at the WTC site and we took the kids in to hear the part at St. Paul's Chapel on Saturday afternoon.
Ross viewed the memorial displays in the chapel with interest. He was a few months shy of three when the towers came down but has memories of the event. He was dozing on my lap at the end of the day and, thinking he was asleep, I'd tuned in to the news coverage. Suddenly, a matter of fact voice piped up, "Why did the airplane fly into the building? Airplanes don't fly into buildings." I switched off the TV right away but the image had already solidified for him.
After looking at the chapel displays and hearing the concert, Ross wanted to walk over to see the new construction going on where the towers were. We ambled across to see the new site plan and peeked through the fences on our way over to the World Financial Center towers, from which you can get a nice view of the site from above. As we gazed out over the work, Lars found THE BIGGEST PIPE EVER (must be about 15' in diameter) and we hypothesized that it might be the main sewer feed. As most of our party started off down the passage toward lunch, Ross commented in awe, "Wow...that's for a LOT of sh*t."
Friends of ours foster rescued cats and took in a pregnant boarder at Christmas. Five kittens were born on Sunday, February 3rd, and we decided to adopt one. A few weeks after the kittens were born, we made a visit so the kids could meet the kittens as infants - so small they fit into the kids hands! Ross and Lars were both very gentle and very much in awe of such tiny cats. Chris decided which kitten we'd have - he liked the pink nose and pads on the little white girl with black spots. Also, she reminds us of Oliver (although she will hopefully not get quite so large as he did!). We had to wait ten weeks before we could take our kitten home.
Angela, the woman who fostered the cats, is amazing! The mama cat didn't seem to know what to do with her kittens. When the kittens would get out of the box, the mama cat would just cry for them - she wouldn't go get them! So, Angela stepped in to help with things like moving the kittens around and litter training them. 
Initially wary of her new surroundings, the kitten spent about an hour checking out our dust bunnies, darting from under one chair to under another. The boys watched from the edges of the room, hopefully waving toys and calling gently, and curiosity finally won out. By the two hour mark, the kitten was playfully batting toys from all directions and happily trotting out to meet the neighborhood kids who flocked over as soon as word of our new kitten got out.
Ross was delighted when Kippah jumped into his lap. Lars was a gentleman when he decided he could wait for his laptime - he found Kippah parked on the still-warm heating pad Chris had been using on his shoulder and was kind enough to leave her there.
