Rain Day

For those of you not plastered to the Weather Channel, there's a lot of rain coming down over here. Central Park registered 7-1/2" of rain yesterday and there's more coming down still. NJ has declared a state of emergency in our county, schools are closed, our neighbors are starting to frame an ark, our front path is under 6" of water, our yards - which all run downhill - look like lakes...but our basement is DRY!! I will gleefully prepare meals in my still-horrible kitchen, secure in the knowledge that, while my countertops might not be attached, my house will not fall over.

Ross and Lars each have a friend over and Chris has been supervising assorted activities all morning. Snippets of the conversation overheard while they were building with Legos:

"No, that's a toilet plunger!"
"...because sharing is for BABIES!"
"A toilet plunger. A thing you get the water on the floor with?"
"...this guy has no head"
"He still could plunger something"

When they all get too rambunctious to sit around the table any longer, Chris herds them downstairs so they can romp around in the (DRY!) basement. We're doing mac'n'cheese with fruit for lunch and will show a movie after. I'm about done with the work I'd planned to do today (I did a slew of it last night, in anticipation of being in the city all day) and wondering if I'd get in a little or a lot of trouble if I continue hiding in the den and fire up Civ IV or NWN2...

Us v. Them

Saturday afternoon found Chris and I head-to-head with our kids in the first Mites vs. Parents hockey game. The Mites team had several distinct advantages, starting with the fact that all players on their team know how to ice skate. The parents were less talented (our intrepid goalie ingeniously used the goal to keep himself standing), less graceful (think orthopedic ward), and fewer in number; we won't even talk about energy level. Still, we rallied enthusiastically and showed the Mites that they are unquestionably better at hockey than we are. The parents did manage to score a few (boy, did I take some flack on my own bench for scoring on Ross!) and the Mites were even good enough to let us win by one in the end...so the parents will always have this game to remember in future years, when our kids are beating the snot out of us even while skating one-footed and holding their sticks blade-side-up.

National Spa Week

April 16th - 20th is National Spa Week and spas across the country are celebrating by offering $50 treatments. Check the website for locations near you!

Query

Would you take this mascot job:

...and, if you would, would you list it on your resume?

The Grandest Lady...

Making Irving proud:

Nothing says Easter like a good bonnet!

Mites on Ice

A thrill for all, the kids' hockey team got to be the "Mites On Ice" for the Trenton Titans last night! Mites On Ice is a long-standing hockey tradition where a mites team (the youngest players) will skate a game in-between periods of a pro game.

Here's a video of the start of their game, with the announcer introducing the team:

My Radish Hurts

Lars sat on a hockey stick during his last game, earning himself a relatively large but not at all traumatic contusion on the back part of his upper thigh. I'm not sure how the stick made such an impact through his Kevlar pants, but I'll take a purple mark over a broken tooth any day.

Over dinner that night, Lars announced that his radish hurt. Chris and I locked gazes over the table, each glad to be chewing something and therefore unable to attempt an immediate answer. By sheer luck, neither of us choked. Chris finished chewing first and managed to croak out, "Your radish?" without cracking a grin (his eyebrows were on the ceiling, however, I think in an attempt to tighten his face so that a smile wouldn't be able to sneak out). I chose the safer path and took another bite of my dinner.

"Yes, Daddy. My," pause. "Well, you know, this...," pause. "HERE! What I got from sitting on the hockey stick!"

"Oh! Your bruise! Yes, that's bound to hurt a bit but you'll be ok," finished Chris before jamming another bite into his own mouth and flashing me a distinct 'your-turn-next' look.

I'm Always Good There

When Chris does per-diem work, I keep Lars for the few hours until the afternoon Kindergarten bus comes. Usually, we hang out at home and play Memory or he helps me do take-offs for work (he’s very good at matching and counting and loves to use different highlighter colors). Once a month, I bring him with me to the blood lab. He leads the way from the parking lot, knows which floor to select in the elevator, sits patiently with me in the waiting room and then stands quietly near me while the tech draws my blood. He usually watches and will sometimes talk to the tech about why there are different colored tubes or if I can have the Incredibles band-aid. He’s never seemed disturbed or frightened by the experience.

This is Spring Break week, so I had both of them today, while Chris worked. In keeping with the Nothing Is Easy theme of the last couple weeks, it was also lab day. On the way over, I asked Lars to fill Ross in on the lab routine. I started him off with the parking and elevator and Lars leading me to the lab. Lars thought a minute and then added, very matter-of-factly, “Then we sign in and wait quietly until they call us and then we go into the room and they do BAD THINGS to Mama. They take her blood out and they KEEP it!” There was an uncomfortable pause and then, “But after that we go home to Starbucks if I’m good and I’m ALWAYS good there.” On reflection, he IS always good there! I never thought much of it before, but now I wonder if it’s because he’s worried about the bad things or because he likes going to Sbux?

What Husband Wouldn't?

I usually skip sleep in order to post but last week I had to skip sleep for work (grrrr) and it was work out of the house, so there just wasn’t time. Several days found me home near midnight, only to spring up early the next morning for another go. Ok, maybe “spring” is a bit of an overstatement but I was getting myself on the trains, so does my style really matter? I was terribly glad when Friday rolled around! I didn’t have to be in the city but I still got up early, to get Ross ready for Crazy Hair Day at school:

While he’d agreed to the spikes in concept, I’m not really sure he understood what he’d get until I was done. The look of pure terror on his face pretty much sums up how he felt about the ‘do until he got to the bus stop and discovered the other kids thought it looked cool. After the bus, I worked a couple of hours and then made Spätzle (German noodles) for his class’ International Lunch, which Chris ran up to the school while I went back to work.

In the midst of all this fun, we endured a minor electrical fire in the circuit breaker box, the fault of poor insulation and a badly tightened wire on the neutral bus. After determining the damage limited to the box and not requiring help from the fire department, we simply pulled the breaker from use and ran an extension cord into the kitchen to power coffee and toaster. Thankfully, we have a gas stove, so matches are all we need for stovetop use.

Yesterday was full of hockey and a birthday party. Today started again with hockey, followed this time by a trip to Home Depot for new breakers. On the advice of a knowledgeable friend, I got an AFCI breaker to replace the damaged one. An Arc Fault Circuit Interrupter (AFCI) will trip if arcing is detected anywhere along the circuit wires. The AFCI is nearly twice as big as a standard breaker but does fit in the same box. I rewired several circuits in the box in order to keep things neat while making room for the monster AFCI.

Even though I’d cut the main power to do the work, Chris stood nearby with my sturdiest Aeroflex wooden hockey stick, poised to bat my arm in case current somehow snuck through the disengaged main. As we cleaned up, I thanked him for his help. Chris grinned, “Stand by, ready to smack my wife with a hockey stick? No problem! What husband wouldn’t do that?”

Twelve Years Later

While Ross was out sick last week, his class read The Witches, by Roald Dahl, and they also saw the movie. Today, Ross had trouble with a comparative writing assignment because he'd missed most of the book and movie he was supposed to be writing about. I was about to send Chris out to the library when he remembered we have a copy of the book and, despite the fact that 90% of our books are still in boxes three years after we moved, I was able to locate this one in under five minutes. I handed it over to Ross, who dutifully camped in a big chair and began to read.

About four pages in, a funny looking slip of paper fell out. Ross studied it for a minute, then handed it over for interpretation. It was a check for $39.38, from our landlord in Brooklyn dated 9-15-1995. 1995! $40! I would be happy to find $40 today...but back then $40 was half our savings account. I can't imagine how we failed to cash it. I also can't imagine how it got into a book that I've never read, but that's something else altogether. Bits of our life since 1995 flashed through my head and, by the time I'd crossed the room (a marriage, two houses, two kids, two cars, and two cats later) to Chris, the thrill of "found money" had worn off and reality had set in. I smiled, though, as Chris lit up, "Think we can cash it?"

"I sort of doubt it," I said. "Twelve years aside, there might be a problem with the bank." I thrust the check farther forward a bit and pointed at the lower left corner, indicating the World Trade Center address. A lot has changed in the world these last twelve years...and not just because Chris and I went and had some kids.

Sprung

It was 70° last week...and then it wasn't. What would you do with 3" thick blocks of ice, chipped one-by-one from your driveway because of some inner desire not to be the neighbor who didn't shovel?

Real Moms Don't

Slouching Mom has solicited my input on the definition of Real Moms.

Real Moms don't mind if the neighbors use their children as lawn jockeys now and then:

With everyone else staring at the kids, Mom gets a few quiet minutes for herself!

Epiphany, OMSH, SpiceGirl, Fraukow...are you game? Navilyn? How about a Real Dad's perspective? Kristin at The Mom Trap started this one and details are here if you need more to go on.

Horizontal

I've been attacked by a sinus infection. It's gotten frisky and spread to my ears and is refusing to be tamed by modern medication. If I'm not calling you back, it's because I would speak a little too loudly into the phone and not be able to hear what you said back. If I'm not returning an e-mail message, it's because typing one handed while clutching my painful ear is not much fun. I'm hoping the new course of meds I started today will be more magical than what I've been on...if so, I'll be catching up with all of you soon!

NYFC

The tail end of rush hour found me fighting my way on foot down Eighth Avenue, headed for Penn Station and trains west. As I crossed the last street, I noticed a truck driver having a shout-fest with a pedestrian who'd crossed in front of the truck, against the light. The pedestrian shouted back, which ired the driver enough that he leaped out of the truck and went after the pedestrian. The driver got maybe fifteen feet from the truck before the guy who begs at that corner got into the truck. I stuck around only long enough to get a look at the driver's reaction as he realized what was happening - classic! I like happy endings, so I'm choosing to believe the corner guy would've just pulled the truck around the corner as a service to the lunatic driver who had abandoned his vehicle mid-intersection (I don't know if he ever moved the truck at all - he hadn't by the time I went into the station). If nothing else, I hope the corner guy gets a warm place to sleep and a good meal tonight. Might have been all he was after - if street life provides enough to afford truck parking in Manhattan, I need to consider a career change!

Baby Blacks?

2007 is the Year of the Black Eye for Lars. He's balanced the slight discoloration and lump leftover from his gym class collision in January with a few scrapes and some fresh color on the other side of his face, trophies from a tangle with a sidewalk up at the school. We are getting used to this school notice (and Lars likes wearing the sticker):


Lars thinks MoMo and Opa are better than the tooth fairy - he gets $5 for each black eye. The first one was folded around a picture of Tante Fraukow, sporting her own doozy. This most recent one came with a note to please stop getting black eyes, as MoPa are running out of $5 bills!

Early Evening

Six-thirty finds Ross and I cuddled on the couch, in pajamas already. After school and homework, he took a nap before dinner...a sure sign of not feeling well. He did manage to wake for dinner, his request for this week, corned beef and cabbage with soda bread (no groans, Grandmoo...*we* like it!). Right after, though, he crawled into my lap and voiced no complaint when I suggested he get into pjs. So, here we are. We just read Haiku! Gesundheit, wrote a new post and commented on some others. I'm behind in blogging - the last few weeks have been brutal on the work side and I've chosen to use my precious free time playing hockey. My season is about to end, so I won't have the option to play as often again until September. I'm sad to have it end but part of me will like the few extra hours each week. Also, my games won't conflict with the kids' games anymore, so I'll get to see them play.

Ross is sitting here reading (and editing) as I type. If I pause to think about wording, he offers help - so some of these words I'm typing are his. It's the first time I've had help writing a blog post and it's odd...but I like it a lot. Maybe sometime soon, Ross will have a blog of his own? Time will tell, I suppose.

Chris and Lars are just done with their Very Hot Bath, an attempt to combat the vicious phlegm threatening to overtake them. Individually, we've got a few minor complaints but taken as a whole, we're a wreck! Hopefully, we'll get through this without all the symptoms piling up on one person at once.

That's about it for now. I will work on posting more often again, although probably not until the weekend. I've got plans to check out the city in -12 for the rest of this week...big, mainly unbloggable, fun. Maybe I'll get lucky and sit near someone worth writing about on the train? Here's hoping whoever it is is not notable for their smell.

Sunny Saturday

Ross, on the phone with a friend who lives on our road: "Yeah, I can play until four. I'll meet you halfway in the woods with all of my sticks that we'll need." Hanging up, he put on a hat, carefully selected sticks from a pile he had stashed on the porch, and took off for the creek to do whatever it is that eight-year-old boys do in the woods with imported sticks.

First Game

We are a hockey family (in case you hadn't noticed) and, as such, I'm proud to post pictures from the boys' first competitive hockey game! Their sweaters are missing the custom front logo, which will be added when they arrive:

Here's one of the boys together:

Lars, taking a faceoff:

Ross, blocking a shot:

Also, a video clip (of course). Ross blocks a shot and a rebound! Not quite the NHL but we couldn't be more proud!

For OMSH

A week or so ago, OMSH posted a picture of a kitchen-tastrophe. Looking at the photo reminded me of a cupboard in the kitchen we had in our first house, which I happen to have a picture of (starring 15-month-old Ross):


We loved that cupboard (you could tell exactly what you had on hand and nothing was ever lost behind anything else...) but I'll leave it for you to determine if the doors really helped the kitchen-tastrophiness.

A year or so later, the pot shelves became much more interesting. Taking inventory with your little brother around can be maddening so why not tuck him safely into a pot? He'll even get in there on his own...all you need to do is get the lid on!


Best be quick about it, though...looks like he might suspect:

Tooth Fairy Q&A

Q. If your tooth comes out while you're having snack at school but you don't realize it until you're done with your cookie and you can't find the tooth (but the school nurse still gives you a little plastic tooth-chest), will the Tooth Fairy still show up? A. Yes. She still even leaves you money!

A2. She also visits your friend's house, even though he lost (and I do mean lost) his tooth in the hallway* and not during snack.

* Job I never really thought about as gruesome but now realize that it involves finding assorted lost teeth: School Custodian.Q. What do you do when you're jealous of your brother getting money from the Tooth Fairy?

A. Yank out a tooth of your own*. For extra credit, select a tooth that does not have a replacement fully grown in behind it so that your loss will represent the first actual tooth gap in recent family history.

* It's a good thing he had a loose one started...he knows where we keep the pliers!