Christmas

Poor Spencer was ill Christmas Eve and Christmas day. Some photos of same.

On Christmas Eve I finally asked Michael how he figured out that Santa was not real. He told me that he figured if Santa was 200, or maybe even 500 years old, and he ate cookies all of the time, he would have had really, really high cholesterol.

What About the Other 99%?

Michael had his first piano recital on Sunday. I was excited to hear him play. He was planning to play Alexander's Ragtime Band by Irving Berlin and Singin' in the Rain, by someone else. Although I would have been very nervous if in Michael's place, he did not seem nervous at all. In the morning, prior to the recital, I confirmed that he was ready, knew what he needed to do when we got there, had his piano music, etc. He took this opportunity to admit that he was a little nervous. Although to be expected, I was still caught off guard a bit because I had not observed any outward sign of nervousness. I asked him about it. I was relieved when he told me that he really was not that nervous, probably just 1%. Whew. I am that nervous riding in an elevator. No wonder I had not noticed. At the recital, he was the first of 20 children to play. Spencer was clearly more than 1% nervous on Michael's behalf. He buried his head in my lap as Michael started to play. As usual, Michael was more self-possessed than I think an eight-year-old should be. He played both songs very well. Thankfully. This allowed Spencer to lift his head from my lap. Michael bowed (cutely), sat down, then whispered to me that actually he had been more than 1% nervous, more like 7%. Still. That is pretty good.

Santa Claus is Coming To Town?

Spencer remarked to me this weekend on two separate occasions that Michael does not believe Santa Claus is real. The first time I responded with a question to Spencer about whether Spencer believes Santa Claus is real. However, Spencer was distracted by something else at that point (I think this makes it seem as if Spencer has the attention span of a small woodland creature, but that is not in fact the case). The subject was dropped. Until he brought it back up again the next day. Again I questioned Spencer with whether he believes Santa is real. He replied with a sense of the absurdity of that question. Of course Santa is real. Don't I think so too? I answered yes, that I believe the "spirit of Santa Claus" is real. The spirit of Santa? Even I felt this was a silly answer. Spencer agreed. He said "I'm not talking about the spirit of Santa Claus, I am talking about the actual Santa Claus." However, with his chipmunk-like attention span, again the conversation ended here, somewhat prematurately perhaps, but nevertheless fortuitously for me given that I did not want to be having that particular conversation.



Now a little background on Michael and Santa. Michael has never indicated to me that he doubts in any way the existence of Santa. He wrote a letter to Santa and agreed that going to visit Santa was a good idea. I did not think Michael really believed Santa was fake. My best guess was that Michael suspected that Santa was not real, but he was not ready to commit yet, fearing, perhaps, that gifts may be at risk. I asked Michael to come talk to me. I told him what Spencer had said. Michael was silent. He looked like he thought he was in trouble. I asked him why he would write a letter and visit Santa if he did not think Santa was real. He responded logically, but in a way I had not expected. He told me that he wrote the letter because he knew I would read it too. Wow. Just right to the point. I told him not to spoil it for Spencer.



I spent time with the boys wrapping presents Sunday evening. Really the boys were in the room with me while I wrapped, but doing their own thing. Until the point at which Spencer took an interest in what I was doing. He wanted to wrap presents too. He had no presents to wrap. This was not a problem. He left the room for less than a minute and returned with a picture of a saint and started wrapping it. Now it is true that I have spoken to the boys about the current state of the economy. However, I doubt this is what motivated Spencer in his choice of present. When the gift was wrapped, he wrote "Spencer" on the wrapping. I know that Spencer is not the only person who gets himself a gift at this time of year, but he may be the only one who gifts himself with something he already owns. Wrapped. Anyway, onto the next gift. An oblong tin case, wrapped and labeled "To: Moon, From: Spencer" Moon is a stuffed monkey. Next was my gift. I do not know what it is, but I am genuinely curious. This morning he wrapped Michael's gift. It is a one inch plastic case that at one time held a tiny deck of cards. I asked what I considered was a reasonable question - did he forget to put the cards in the case. Nope. It's just the incredibly tiny plastic case. Also, Spencer requested a last-minute change. He asked me to cross out "Moon" and write "Patrick" instead. So Patrick is getting the oblong tin case. I'm not sure if Moon will get something else or if Spencer has decided that Moon does not get a gift this year. Also, I am curious if any of us will be able to keep these gifts. I suspect not.

Alive With Activity

The boys played with legos while I shoveled the snow. I use the phrase "played with" although I think it does not capture the seriousness and directness of focus present when the boys "do" legos. At any rate, they enjoyed it and were very excited for me to see what they had made. It was a Spongebob restaurant. They showed me all of the "people" in the restaurant eating crabby patties and the sign and the dumpster outside the store. Then Michael pointed me to the roof, commenting, "and the roof is alive with activity too."

Saturday Morning

I woke up early (6:15 a.m.) this morning. I guess that is what happens when you go to bed at 9:30 p.m. At any rate, I thought it would be a good idea to get started with the day given that I was wide awake. I went into the boys' room to discuss my plans for the day. I told them that first I would go outside and shovel. Michael looked at me seriously and advised me that I ought to go back to bed for 10-15 more minutes to get warm and rested before going outside to shovel. Spencer piped in, suggesting 20 minutes instead. They are sweet boys to be concerned about my well-being. I did go back to my room, but instead of resting, I started on Michael's tortoise costume for his upcoming school play. I helped Michael with his lines the other night after dinner. He seems to have them down pat.

Halloween Pictures

Spencer, obviously, is dressed as a vampire. More specifically, he is Dracula. Michael, less obviously, is dressed as Calvin, of Calvin and Hobbes.

Apple Picking with Cole, Andre, Nick and Ashley

Michael Soccer Pictures

Thumbs Down

I was talking about movies with the boys this evening. I asked them if any of their friends had seen various movies, one of which was "Beverly Hills Chihuahua." Patrick commented that the critics say it is one of the best movies for children currently playing in theaters. Michael said, "well I guess those critics were looking through the wrong end of the telescope then."

A Stitch In Time

Spencer came home from his after-school program yesterday and immediately asked for yarn. One of the teachers there showed him how to knit, using his fingers instead of knitting needles. He asked me if I could knit. I explained that I didn't have knitting needles, but did have a crochet hook. He then asked me to crochet him (or papier mache, as he subsequently and repeatedly called it) a quilt. What surprises me (and also makes me hopeful) is that my little Spencer has so much confidence in my abilities that he is able to make that statement without a touch of irony, and with the complete assurance that I would be able to fulfill his request that evening.

Scavenger Hunt

Over the past year or longer, the boys picked up a new skill. No matter where we are, they are able to find objects which they deem worthy of saving. It began innocently. They would see a cool rock. And honestly, I liked the enthusiasm. So although they often found the "cool rock" from amongst the landscaping rock which borders our house, I echoed their enthusiasm. At first. I soon realized that both boys, if left unchecked, would cover every available surface and drawer in the house with these rocks. I was more worried about trying to figure out what to do with all of these rocks than I was about the idea of eventually needing to replace the landscaping rock, which would doubtless involve ordering 3 more yards of landscaping rock, shoveling it load by load into a wheelbarrow and spreading it out with a rake. And so I advised the boys that the rocks were to be kept in a cardboard box in the garage. But that didn't work out. I didn't like having a big box of rocks in our very small garage. So I came up with a new plan. I told the boys they could keep each new rock they found, but only for 3 days. So now we have a series of rocks revolving through the house, but not taking up residence. This has been effective in keeping the total rock population in the house to a minimum, but I'm not confident that I really thought this through completely.

So, it started with rocks. But then it progressed, evolved. They still find rocks, but now they also find other items (some would call these items "trash" or "garbage" but I don't think that's an entirely fair classification). For example, one boy might find a rubber band (which they would fight over because rubber bands are cool and useful). Or maybe a pen. Or even a pen cap. Spencer found a gold-colored pencap that was a quite a favorite. He was very attached to it and referred to it as "my golden." For those familiar with Lord of the Rings, I'm sure that sounds Golum-esque, but it didn't when Spencer said it. He is much sweeter than Golum. In a parking lot, one boy (I don't recall which) picked up a receipt and proudly declared "we could use this for a bookmark." Which we could, but did not (although we are in fact nearly always in need of bookmarks). The boys also enjoy finding various items that litter the floors in clothing stores. They scour the floors, picking up broken hangers and pieces of plastic. These items are deposited with me briefly before they are passed along to the cashier so she can dispose of them properly. In grocery stores, they collect twist ties from the produce department.

One day an event happened that ratcheted up the fairly relaxed attitude of these searches. This event was the discovery of a penny. And then a nickel. The boys have become quite driven. They are intent on finding some piece of money whenever we go out. My abiding hope is that either both boys find a coin of the same denomination or that neither boy finds anything. One day in the hardware store, I was surprised and slightly disgusted to find both of my children lying flat on their stomachs scanning under the rickety, over-packed shelves for lost change. I pretended this was normal. I told them it was time to go, and once outside I advised them that it was not acceptable to lie on the dirty floors of stores looking for money. Of course this was followed by the inevitable questions. "But what if we can see money, can we lie down to get it?" "What if it is $100?" Of course I told them that would be fine, but they'd have to share it with me.

I hope this ends soon.

Superior Genes

I picked out an outfit for Spencer before school. It was a long-sleeved shirt and a navy sweater vest (possibly some pants too). After he dressed, he asked me (somewhat plaintively), "Why am I so handsome today?"

Bedtime Part II

Aside from stories and songs, there are two remnants from Michael's long bedtime routine. One - I tell him "good night, sleep tight, dream of bedbugs tonight." My sense is that I could omit this and he would be fine. Two - he still likes to ask if I know the daddy thing, right when I get down and do I promise. Spencer, on the other hand, has a whole procedure that we go through every night. First we rub noses, then we do butterfly kisses (he gives me one on the right cheek , then one on the left cheek and then I do the same), then we each give each other a kiss on the forehead. In the beginning, I would give him three kisses on the forehead, which could be either regular, suction or juicy (these are Spencer's descriptors). He would then guess what they were. Then he would do the same for me. Eventually he started making up all sorts of kisses. Now we just do one and I never can guess it right. Yesterday it was the "eeny meeny miny mo, catch a tiger by the toe" kiss. That was an easy one. I'm not sure how I missed it. I then give him a hug and (for some reason) recite "cat, hat; in French, chat, chapeau, in Spanish, el gato in a sombrero. Ole. Ole. Ole, ole, ole." Lastly, Spencer will say "I love you more than you love me." I say "Not possible." He says "Yes, it is 100% possible." I say "No I love you more than you love me and that is 100% possible."

And then I leave. I go downstairs. And then Spencer starts shouting things down the stairs. Important things. Like "Are you making chai tea?" Or "Don't forget to cover me up when you go to bed." Or "Is that Madeleine Peyroux?" Or "Will you remind me to be a puppy tomorrow?"

Bedtime Part I

When Michael was younger, getting him to sleep at night could sometimes be a struggle. Okay, that is a bit of an understatement. But that is what I am going with. At any rate, back then I found myself sleep-deprived and speaking with other parents about my bedtime woes, and even logging into parenting chat rooms in the middle of the night (seriously, I'm embarassed). I confirmed that many children have difficulty settling down to sleep and I also concluded (reluctantly) that the image I had created in my head was not particularly close to reality. The picture I had in my mind was little Michael yawning as he stretched his arms over his head, declaring, "I'm sleepy," then nestling down in his blankets with his tiny hands curled beneath his sweet chin as he drifted off to an untroubled sleep.

I found that some parents (smugly) stated that their children slept great. And further, their children had always slept great. Even as newborns. Eight or nine hours - right through the night. Were these parents trying to assert the superiority of their parenting skills or imply that their children were better than everyone else's or just trying to make everyone else feel bad? I wasn't sure, but I was too tired to give it any serious consideration.

After confirming that Michael was not the only child who didn't welcome bedtime, I started to check to see what "the books" had to say about the sleep issue. At that time I had a number of parenting and child development books, many of which I was given as gifts and never looked at. However, there were a few I would turn to for information. One was a book that espoused an Attachment Parenting approach. This approach made sense to me, but I found that I couldn't live up to the expectations, so reading this book was both good and bad for me. I also had a book given to me from the hospital where Michael was born that was surprisingly useful. And I had the American Pediatric Association's Birth through Age Five text. All of these books took the position that most issues with bedtime struggles would be solved by the establishment of a soothing bedtime ritual. This bedtime ritual would be a panacea, solving any number of sleep-related problems. And so, after a brief discussion, we started a bedtime ritual. The ritual consisted of bath, followed by the reading of three stories, then songs and then to sleep. Problem solved. And so it seemed to be. At first. But where one problem is eradicated, sometimes another (unforeseem) problem arises to take its place.

It started quite innocently. Michael would ask for chapstick. And then every night he would need chapstick. One night he was worried about monsters. So we checked his room for monsters. And then we had to check his room for monsters every night. Little by little the bedtime routine expanded. And it wasn't just that it expanded. It had to be followed EXACTLY. A deviation in even the smallest word was unacceptable. After a few months, the routine had evolved into the following (which would be said, word for word, by parent and child, every night):

After bath and stories, Michael gets into bed and arranges his covers and animals.

Me (or Dad): "Song number one?"
Michael: "Tick Tock"
Hickory Dickory Dock is sung while I search his room for monsters (behind curtains and in closet).
Parent: "It..."
Michael: "It takes one song to check for half of the monsters."
Parent: "Song number two?"
Michael: "Oh Where Oh Where has my Little Dog Gone."
The song is sung while the rest of the room is checked for monsters (under dresser, bed).
Parent: "Everything is safe. Song number three?"
The answer to this depends on who is singing - if mom, the song is Frere Jacque, if dad, the song is Down in the River to Pray.
That song is sung and then Michael is given a hug and kiss.
Parent: "Would you like any lipstuff?"
Michael: "Yes."
The chapstick is applied and put away.
Michael: "Did you want some and did you get some?"
Parent: "Yes and yes. I’m ready for the million infinity promise."
Michael: "Do you promise me one million infinity infinity times that there is nothing to be afraid of?"
Parent: "Yes."
Michael: "And you promise me that there are no monsters?"
Parent: "Yes, I promise. Good night, sleep tight, dream of bedbugs tonight. Sweet dreams. I
love you. Good night."
Michael: "Good night, sleep tight, dream of bedbugs tonight. Sweet dreams. I love you. Good night."
Parent: "I’m ready for three."
Michael: "Good night and I love you. Good night."
Parent: "That’s one."
Michael: "Good night and I love you. Good night."
Parent: "That’s two."
Michael: "Good night and I love you. Good night."
Parent: "That’s three."
Michael: "Can I tell you two more things?"
Parent: "Yes you may."
Michael: "Good night and I love you. Good night."
Parent: "That’s one."
Michael: "Good night and I love you. Good night."
Parent: "That’s two."
Michael: "I’ll try to be quiet so Spencer can stop talking all through the night. I love you. Goodbye and good night. I promise you I think that’s all. I don’t promise you that is all. I promise you I think that’s all. Do you understand?"
Parent: "I understand."
Michael: "Can I tell you what time it is?"
Parent: "Yes."
Michael: "It’s 8:00 on my clock and 8:02 on my watch. And you know the Dadda thing
right?"
Parent: "Yes."
Michael: "And you’ll tell him right when you get downstairs right?"
Parent: "Yes."
Michael: "and you promise?"
Parent: "I promise."

Fall Update

Fall is here and we are enjoying the pleasant weather. School is going well for both boys. Michael continues to lose his baby teeth. He just lost his seventh tooth. The tooth fairy left him one dollar. Spencer commented that Ellie, a girl in his kindergarten classroom, got three dollars for her tooth and it seems strange that the tooth fairy leaves different amounts for different kids. However, the inequalities of that situation were of lesser concern to him than the fact that he hasn't lost ANY teeth and is therefore not getting any money. Very unfair. And by the way, what is allowance?

Speaking of Spencer and girls, after school yesterday, unpacking his backpack, he pulled out a drawing. He stated very matter-of-factly, "Chianni drew this for me. She loves me. I don't love her though." The picture has hearts and Spencer's name. It is very sweet. In addition, at a kindergarten event at his school, the mothers of two girls sought me out to tell me how much their little girls, Heidi and Helena, each enjoy playing with Spencer. Incidentally, Spencer has been invited to Helena's birthday party, which is this weekend. He is very excited about going, so I have concluded that he enjoys playing with her as well. Early one morning last week when I dropped Spencer off at school, Lucy's mom told me that Lucy made a sign for her bedroom door that reads "NO BOYS ALLOWED, EXCEPT SPENCER AND CAL". Lastly, after school last week while playing on the playground, Patrick was speaking with a mother he knew, her little girl came up to Patrick and announced, "Spencer gives me lots of kisses." When Patrick relayed this story to me, I assumed the little girl would be Heidi or Helena, or maybe Lucy or Ellie. No, it was Charlie. Spencer had never mentioned Charlie before. We asked him if he had kissed any other girls. He only answered, "maybe yes, may no." So cagey.

Michael and Spencer continue to update and upgrade their "offices." In addition, they assigned secret names to each of the offices. Unfortunately, they only told me one of the secret names. It was "BCO." Michael did not want Spencer to tell me what the initials stood for, because, well, um, it's secret. Good point. On the other hand, Spencer believes that I can be trusted. Another good point. Spencer told me that "B" stood for "big" and that "O" stood for "office." He did not tell me what the "C" stood for as, apparently, I cannot be trusted completely. However, neither boy seemed disappointed when I deciphered that the "C" stood for "closet" and that the "big closet office" must refer to Spencer's office, as it is in the bigger closet. Soon after the code was cracked, the boys decided to move both of the offices into Spencer's spacious double closet (aka the BCO). Their makeshift desks have greatly improved. Truthfully, it would have taken almost no effort to improve upon their previous desks, cleared out spaces on the closet floor, but the desks do actually resemble desks now. Spencer is sitting on a stepstool and has game boxes piled one on top of another to form his desk. Michael is sitting in a little rocking chair with a shelf as his desk. Although I think it is incredibly sweet that they sit in the closet and work at the desks that they made themselves, I think it is time that I look for actual desks for them now.

Mikes

I can usually gauge the level of amity between the two boys by the way Spencer speaks to Michael. Tone and what is being said are instructive, but don't always paint the full picture. However, if I hear Spencer refer to his brother as "Mikes" I know beyond a doubt that Spencer is feeling happy and cooperative with Michael and that, if only for a short while, their games will not be marred by disharmony or discord. I am pleased to report that I heard many "Mikes" over the weekend. Here is a sampling of their activities over the last few days, while peace and goodwill reigned.

While I was out running errands, my boys created a store. I call it a store because that is what they called it. To the untrained eye it looked like a plastic garbage bag stuffed with toys they no longer wanted. They dumped the bag out and immediately began trying to make sales. First let me say that my timing was good as they happened to be having a sale just then. Patrick did not fare as well as I. He paid full price for everything he purchased (he is not a savvy shopper). Second, I was too troubled by the idea of buying anything from them that I still considered my own property to agree to buy anything that fit that category (am I wrong?). In the end I purchased two stuffed animals, a small bottle of bubbles, a small change purse, a necklace, a toy hippo, a toy elephant and a toy bus. The total cost to me - 46 cents.

Upon waking Saturday morning, the boys created "mouse houses." I was still sleeping at that time and dreaming (coincidentally?) of mice. The mouse houses are shoe boxes that the boys decorated with "NO CATS" signs, mirrors, beds, couches, lamps, chairs, etc. The boys worked out all of the furniture and decorations themselves. Each boy felt (deservedly) a lot of pride in his accomplishment. They explained to me in detail each of the bits of furniture and decoration. I learned that the couch actually converts into a bed. As the couch/bed is a cotton ball, I did not ask for a demonstration (though maybe I should have).

Michael is helping Spencer learn to read. He is very patient with Spencer and sounds the letters out and asks Spencer questions as they go along, like "what sound does a 'D' make?" Spencer is intent and serious. It is clear he is trying very hard. I can't decide which boy is cuter. A few months ago I made flash cards for Spencer with words such as "MOM," "DOG," "BUG," etc. On the first round with the flash cards, Spencer was great. He sounded out the words and I grew increasingly confident that he'd be reading within the week. Then we got to "HAT." We sounded it out, "H" makes "ha", "A" makes "ah" and "T" makes "teh", put it together and......"Horse" Spencer announced proudly.

Please, I Beg You

Both boys really enjoy music. For his fourth birthday Michael requested three cd's - Etta James, Bob Marley and The Big Chill soundtrack. Spencer has an uncanny knack for remembering lyrics and the names of different singers (or should I say artists?). Last night Spencer asked Patrick if he could have chocolate milk with dinner. Patrick said no. Spencer responded "Please, I beg you. I'm a wounded man." Those are song lyrics. He is a funny boy. Aunt Amy has high hopes that he will be a rock star.

The Office

Over the weekend Michael told me he had made himself an office in his room. Immediately I was intrigued. It is always impressive to me when either of the boys thinks up a project on his own and executes. However, I was curious about what making an office entailed, specifically. I followed him up to his room. At this point, Spencer was also curious, and came along as well. Michael proudly pointed me to his closet. I looked in. Hmm. I tried to assess what had changed. What was it in the current arrangement of the clothes, games and shelves that might suggest "office" to Michael, if not to me. I was stymied. Nevertheless, I said it looked great. Spencer (of course) now needed an office of his own as well. Michael, ever helpful, offered to (you guessed it) help. Spencer's office is also housed in his closet. There is even less in Spencer's office that resembles the images usually brought to mind by the word. Spencer's office is mostly (actually, entirely) an empty space on the floor of his closet. Apparently, they only had to move a couple items and, behold, office. Do I feel guilty that I haven't managed to find desks yet for these two? A little bit. This morning I asked Spencer to work on his homework. After a minute or two, I went into his room to see how it was going. But he wasn't in his room. I called to him. He answered that he was in his office. His office. Of course. I looked into the closet. He was sitting there, on his closet floor, in the near dark, happily working on his paper. Maybe they don't need desks yet.

Soccer Season

Michael had his very first soccer game over the weekend. In previous years his "team" has merely scrimmaged, sometimes without a goalie - that goal is smaller than it looks. But now that he is in the 7-8 year old league (the Dynamites), they play other teams. However, they do not keep score yet. I imagine that will come in the 9-10 year old league (but I am not positive). The day was chilly and raining. Michael's spirits were high though. He told me "The rain is good. We will use it to our advantage." I like it. He's being tactical. I'm wondering if he thinks the rain will dampen the spirits of the opposing team. No. That's not it. It's sliding. When the grass is wet, they will be able to slide further than usual and that will help them defeat their opponent. Clever. The kids played well. Michael was the goalie during the second half. He did great, but Spencer was embarrassed by Patrick's shouting. It was almost like it caught him by surprise. Really Spencer? Surprised? Haven't you noticed daddy yelling at the tv during football games and baseball games and the Olympics? Although nobody kept score, Michael's team, using the rain to their advantage, won 4-3.

The Problem With Pronouns

A few months ago Spencer was questioning me about how babies get out of the mommy's stomach. He was no longer satisfied with my stock answer - at the hospital, so I (gingerly) gave him more detail about how babies are born. The other night (apparently after digesting this information for a period of 3 months or so) he asked me how babies could fit and actually get out of there. I told him that it stretches. He looked surprised, then asked, "so how long and skinny do the babies get?"

First Day of School

Monday was Spencer's first day of school - kindergarten - a milestone. However, although it is/was a milestone in my mind, I didn't think it was a great idea to make it so weighty from Spencer's perspective. Plus, I wouldn't say that Spencer was looking forward to kindergarten particularly. I base this (in part) on his comment that he'd prefer to wait and start school next month. However, he was not dreading it either (at least not overtly). But after that first morning, I can say that I think my little Spencer has been lying in the weeds (so to speak). I worried that he was too shy, and that he would be nervous without Michael nearby. But I needn't have worried. He handled the first day with as much self-possession as Michael had two years ago. Spencer was completely ready for school, and although he wouldn't have admitted it, I believe he was looking forward to it. As the next few days bore out, he loves it. It seems as if he has grown up over night.
















Spencer's friend Henry is in his classroom. This is a picture of them before the day officially got started. They were a little sleepy that morning I guess.

I promised Spencer dessert to celebrate his first day of school. During dinner he asked if it could be bananas foster. Hmmm. Sounds good, but no. He said we'd have to have it for sure on my birthday. So thoughtful and sweet. I hope he starts planning soon.





















Michael also had a first day of school - second grade. It is old hat for him now. Here is a picture of him as he waits for the bus. Michael's school year has started out well. He is happy with his teacher and has friends in his classroom. For spelling this year Michael's class is being given a pre-test. If the child gets 9 or 10 correct on the pre-test, s/he will be given an alternate spelling test. Here are the pre-test words:
Because
Have
Said
They
Was
Are
How
What
After
Hear

Here is the alternate list of spelling words:
Metamorphosis
Camouflage
Hibernate
Mucous
Migrate
Nectar
Amphibian
Cocoon
Species
Predator
Is it just me, or does it seem like there may have been some middle ground between these two lists?

Seems Like Yesterday To Me

While I was busily cleaning up after dinner tonight, Michael was chattering on about school. At one point he said, and this is a direct quote "When I look at the first graders, it is hard to imagine I was ever that small." For the record, Michael has grown 1.75 inches and weighs 5 pounds more than this time last year.

Good Point Spencer

We went to Half-Price Books tonight to get Michael a pocket dictionary to replace the GIGANTIC one he has been carting around with him everywhere in his backpack. When we located the pocket dictionaries, Spencer decided he wanted one too. I told Spencer I thought that was a really good idea. He said, "There is one problem though, I can't read."

Deep Thoughts

At the pool today Spencer, the voice of reason and practicality, told Aunt Amy that the adage "Find a penny pick it up and all the day you'll have good luck, and if you give it to a friend, then your luck will never end" is not in fact true. Amy asked Spencer how he could be so sure. He explained that he had in fact one day found a penny, picked it up and gave it to a friend. However, he didn't have good luck that day. He only had "fine luck." Amy was going to ask Spencer to elaborate on what "fine luck" is (personally I am still curious), but Michael chimed in suggesting "Maybe good luck is the absence of bad luck."

Pretty in Pink

This morning I overheard Spencer offering Michael money if Michael would wear a pink shirt. I think I was so confused by the fact that the conversation had nothing to do with Star Wars that I may not have chosen the best possible way to respond. And how was that? Well first I established the specifics of Spencer's proposal. I ascertained that Spencer was offering all of the money in his piggy bank PLUS all of the money in his bank account if Michael would wear a pink shirt in public for an amount of time not less than one minute. Wow. I then established that Spencer was willing to make such an outlandish proposal because he thinks it would be the height of embarrassment and lunacy for a boy to wear something that "girly" in front of other people. I tried to reason with Spencer (foolish). I told him that lots of men wear pink shirts. He didn't seem to care. I tried to make it more concrete by saying that lots of men at my workplace wear pink shirts. It's possible that my five-year old son doesn't identify with nameless guys at my work though, as he remained unswayed. Michael interjected at this point. And he was reasonable and sensible. He told Spencer that he'd do it, but he only wanted four dollars and he'd wear the shirt all day. I was impressed that he seemed to recognize that the proposal was inequitable, he didn't want to take advantage of his brother and he was okay wearing pink. Good for you Michael. I went upstairs and brought down one of my pink shirts. It is a running shirt. It is sleeveless. Michael put it on and immediately declared that he'd need more money because the shirt looked too "girly."

Just How Lonely Are Chickens Anyway?

We are having lovely weather for this long Labor Day weekend. However, as Michael announced yesterday evening while on a walk, "Summer is over. I just saw a bunch of leaves on the ground and I just saw one leaf actually falling. That is what triggered my memory of Fall." Triggered his memory of Fall? I don't know about that. I do know that I had seen the same tree and had told myself (and believed a little bit) that the tree was sick or dying. Anyway, it is nice weather currently and the boys and I decided yesterday that it would be nice to go to my mom's and spend the afternoon swimming, and maybe their cousins could come too. I texted Uncle Nick to find out if they were available and up for a swim. But Spencer - my young, sweet, cynical Spencer says to me in regard to his Uncle Nick, "I bet he won't respond. He never responds." However, Nick did respond (take that Spencer). Unfortunately though, Nick was in the middle of school supply shopping, which seems like an activity that should take 30 minutes, but has become a touch more complicated. I travelled to four different stores to get everything on the boys' lists and I had to spend $119.50. And that was just to get the standard supplies. I didn't get anything from either boy's "wish list," which is, near as I can tell, a list of additional supplies that you are not required to purchase, but which the teachers would like, and if you are really committed to your kids and their education, you will do your part and get at least one (just one, for goodness sake), but probably more than one, maybe everything on the wish list because the more you buy, the better equipped the classroom and the better the educational opportunities for the students (obviously). Ok, I admit that I am feeling a little guilty and a touch inadequate because I didn't buy anything on the "wish list." At any rate, Nick and his boys couldn't come swimming yesterday. And, after I exhausted the list of other possible attendees and told the boys that it looked like it would be just us, Spencer remarked forlornly "So we will be lonely chickens."

Hooray for the Red, White and Blue

For the past few weeks Spencer has been singing "Hooray for the red, white and blue." Is this a song? I have no idea. If it is, Spencer only knows that one line. However, he makes up for the lack of lyrics by singing that one line over and over. And over. Sometimes he finds a tree branch or something else he can wave. With arm high, he waves his "flag" and marches up and down singing. At first I was puzzled by his behavior. But then I thought he must be feeling really proud of America. But today he mentioned that maybe the red, white and blue could be the American flag. Hmm...Perhaps he just likes the song.

Spencer told me that he had a really great day today and that the things he liked best today were as follows:
(1) Coloring
(2) Waking up
(3) Being with Mom
(4) Coloring
Please note that coloring made the list twice. And although I acknowledge that "waking up" is a key part of one's day, I am hoping that being with me will edge it out on a subsequent list.

Michael's Birthday

I have included some pictures from our cabin trip. As you can see, we spent most of the time outside in our swimsuits. There is no photographic evidence, but I was there too.

Michael turned eight years old Friday.

His current stats are: Weight - 54.5 lbs (42nd percentile)

Height - 47.75 inches tall (13th percentile).

He wears two watches. One on each wrist. He likes to time things. His favorite books are (1) The Harry Potter Series (2) The Pendragon Series and (3) The Black Stallion Series.

Michael's birthday was nice. Neither he nor Spencer insists yet upon a full "birthday week" (although given that I do, I am sure that it will not be long before that tradition is adopted by all). The birthday boy always gets to choose whatever he wants for dinner (I assume at some point one of them will ask for ice cream - probably Spencer - but to date this has not happened). For two years running now, Michael has chosen bacon quiche. We had "Death by Chocolate" Cake for dessert. We didn't have a kid party for Michael this year, but we did take two of Michael's friends, Henry and Eric, to the Twins game last weekend. Spencer was ready to pack it in at the end of the first inning. Michael questioned whether it was half time when the Twins switched from outfield to batting at the middle of the second inning. After we explained the slow pace of the game (and that baseball has innings, rather than quarters and halves), everyone seemed to settle in and all four boys really seemed to enjoy screaming and eating caramel corn.

In honor of Michael's birthday, I will provide two recent Michael quotes, and then I will give the brief (as if I tell any brief stories) explanation for the title of this little blog.

First the quotes. Yesterday at my mom's while we were loaded down with bags, waiting for someone to open the door for us, Michael said, "Will someone open the damn door?" Needless to say, I was somewhat taken aback by this crude comment from my sweet boy. The boys spent the previous week in my sole company (lucky kids), and I know he didn't hear this expression from me. But then what could have prompted this comment? Then I remembered. I let the boys watch the film E.T. Cute movie? Yes. But also back in the 1980's it was acceptable to have the young characters in a PG movie say "penis breath," "shit" and I'm guessing "damn door" as well. The second quote is from this morning. Michael told me matter-of-factly, "I'm always in the mood for classical humor." He was referring to Calvin and Hobbes. Now that's damn cute.

And now the explanation for the title of this blog. When Michael was about 9 months old, he would wake 5-10 times per night. Every. Single. Night. Patrick and I were quickly becoming incapable of the most mundane tasks. In desperation one night, around 3 am, I went on-line and bought a sleep video (evidence of my lack of judgment and inability to function). It was guaranteed to get a child to sleep through the night without forcing the child to "cry it out." And if (for some reason), you ran into any snags when instituting the doctor's fool-proof approach, there was a promise of personal communication with the doctor himself, the brains (and heart) behind the video. Surprisingly as it turned out, the approach did not work for us. I proceeded to email the good doctor. He replied by email. Okay, now stay with me. Unrelated to my sleep deprivation problems, Amy had recently discovered translators on the web, including one that would translate anything into "street language." She found much joy in translating emails from work into street talk. Now, here is where it is all going to come together. Amy decided to translate the doctor's email. Upon reading the translation, we noted that wherever the word "his" appeared (which was always in reference to Michael), the word "wassup" was inserted. And thus, Michael was nicknamed Wassup, at least by Amy and me.

So as not to completely leave Spencer out, here are a couple things that Spencer has said to me recently. Leaving Target yesterday morning, Spencer noticed an elderly gentleman. He said to me very quietly, "He is very old." I agreed. He then said quite passionately, "he doesn't use a cane or a wheelchair though. That is very impressive." Very impressive indeed. Additionally, today while riding in the back of my car Spencer said "I like driving with the window down." Then he paused. He followed with "In particular I do not like driving because it is bad for the environment." Sweet boy.

Mid-day Thursday

I ate one of the brats for lunch yesterday. The boys, clearly less adventurous than I, opted for macaroni and cheese. So far, so good, so I ate another one today for lunch. I'm half-expecting to come down with chills or abdominal cramping or blurred vision. On the other hand, it isn't possible that they weren't cooked after four hours.

We went swimming twice yesterday. I believe this was a contibuting factor to Michael's proclamation that yesterday was the best day yet of the vacation. It probably was the sole factor. I actually went down the "water slide," which is literally a slide which has been placed in the water. It was surprisingly fun. In the evening when we were walking Luka, Spencer looked at the beach and said wistfully "Michael, doesn't the slide look inviting?" He was echoing something Michael had said on the first night. Still funny.

We built sand castles and a sand turtle. We tried to catch fish with a bucket. Spencer suggested that if we had a worm it might be easier. I agreed.

I taught the boys how to play ping-pong in the gameroom. They are both getting the hang of it, but a volley (or even a return shot) is not on the horizon for a little bit.

Last night we made a fire. I was impressed with the boys' abilities in this arena. Apparently they once listened to a naturalist give a lesson on how to start a fire. They weighed the comparative advantages of the teepee formation versus the log cabin and unanimously agreed on the log cabin. They arranged the logs, then asked for "kindling first, then tinder." Of course we only had big blocks of wood, so we found birch bark (which is great) and dried leaves and some twigs. It worked.

We roasted marshmallows. First though, I had to convince the boys that it was possible to roast marshmallows on a stick. From a tree. Then, they informed me that they couldn't eat the marshmallow directly from the stick, but would need a plate to put it on. Also, if the marshmallow catches on fire, it is inedible and must be sacrificed. I lost two last night.

We have been playing a lot of games. Spencer is really enjoying mancala right now and usually beats me. At least when he goes first. Which is all of the time. He says that "he smokes me." Though under Michael's criteria for "smoking me," he would only have "smoked me" one time. Michael claims matter of factly, as if it is a well-established fact, that "smoking" means winning by five or more.

Lastly, Michael came into my bedroom this morning to show me a scrape on his heel. He said it hurt but he wasn't sure how he got it. Spencer asked with genuine concern "did it just come out of nowhere?"

On a separate note, I saw a giant spider today. It looked like it might be poisonous.

Day Two

The morning got off to a good start. The boys slept in until 7:12, which, Michael claims, is the third latest they have ever slept. In addition, as a bonus, they did not get out of bed until 8:00, which meant I was able to read in bed. Lovely. However, after breakfast we took Luka for a walk, and I don't want to go into details, but the glow from the loveliness of reading in bed was soon extinguished. Suffice it to say that (1) I told the boys not to let Luka eat their peanut shells last night; and (2) I did something that I wouldn't have thought I had the capacity to do. Eww.

On the walk we looked for rocks. I still like to find agates and Spencer was interested in finding quartz this morning. But not just any quartz, it had to be "shimmering quartz." I tried to point out rocks that fit this criteria, and although I helped find one good one, it seems that I am not expert at discerning this (somewhat subjective) trait.

At some point today, I had to have a talk with the boys, both of whom should be seriously considered for careers in negotiations - hostage crises (crisises?), politics, labor unions, etc. It seems that no matter what I suggest, they have a counterproposal - perhaps a completely different idea, or a slight (or major) modification. At any rate, I told them that I get to make the decisions, and that when I tell them what the plan is, I would really like to hear, "Wow, Mom, that's a great plan. Well done." So for the rest of the day they have been saying "Great idea" to everything I suggest. They think it is funny. Which it is. But it is nice to hear too.

I continue to be less than adequate (maybe that is too harsh) in the kitchen. First, I didn't think to bring charcoal. On the other hand, I have never really grilled, so probably that is for the best. I did bring brats, which, as I just discovered on the internet, are Wisconsin's Soul Food. I had no idea. I brought the brats because the boys have recently told me they love them. What they love is the pre-cooked, cheese-filled variety of brats (which is what I should have bought). I purchased uncooked brats from the meat counter at Whole Foods, turkey, no cheese. I have no idea how to cook them. After about 45 minutes, I tried to convince myself that perhaps they are meant to be pink. Or, if that is incorrect, that eating undercooked poultry probably wouldn't do us any harm. However, I made a pizza and figured that I could keep cooking the brats and maybe we could eat them tomorrow. However, it has been three plus hours now, they are still really pink inside, and I'm starting to have doubts...

Cabin Trip Day One

This is how the first day of our trip to the cabin went....

This morning I was roused from a peaceful slumber by Spencer thrusting his two fists in front of my not-yet-open eyes and querying me on what I saw. It was 7:06. He has an incredibly regular internal clock. I was confused by the question, but eventually said "rocks?" This was (of course) wrong. I still do not know what response he was hoping to elicit from me. At any rate, I got up, got the boys breakfast, went for a satisfying run, showered, and then started to finish (can I say that?) packing. We got on the road at 11:00. Trusting my unerring sense of direction, I began the drive without first consulting a map, though I did have the mapquest directions. I was following that route. Or so I thought. I noted that the route was taking me through smaller towns on ever smaller roads. However, when I reached a deadend, it became much harder to convince myself that I was still on the right track. I backtracked and eventually got back on course. The rest of the drive was pleasant and uneventful.

We got to the cabin around 2:30. It is very cozy (read small). It is clean. It is possible my tastes run to something a little fancier, but theboys immediately declared that they have a feeling this is going to be a great vacation. So with my heart melting, we unpack, take a walk around the grounds, swing on the swings and then decide to go for a swim. The boys love the swimming. The beach is cozy (read small), but sandy for a little ways. Luka is driving me crazy. She is constantly whining to go out and then to come back in. We have people directly next to us on both sides who seem wary of her and her foaming mouth (wimps). She wants to go in the water, but it is all weeds and boats in front of our cabin and I worry that the bathers on the beach would not welcome a shower from Luka as she shakes herself dry (again, wimps). I am wishing I had brought some sort of sedative for her. Honestly.

After swimming, the boys were running around between the cabin and the lake in front of our cabin when Spencer sat down and started to cry that he hurt his foot. I went to the dock and sat down next to him to ascertain whether he had gotten a splinter or stubbed his toe. However, almost immediately I felt a painful sting on my, let's say, bottom. And then a bee came out of my swim suit. How did it get inside? Good question. I obviously need to be more concerned about what people can see when I wear this swimsuit. At any rate, I heroically pick up Spencer and carry him to the cabin where I get ice for his bee sting. All the while I am suffering greatly. The ice did wonders for both of us though. I made dinner. We ate outside on the picnic table. The boys threw the frisbee and football around. Luka whined. And now you are up-to-date.