MS Surprise

The boys made their unique recipe again this morning. They have renamed it "MS Surprise." I tasted it. It was not delicious. The boys claim that they put too much water in and have asked me to sample it again the next time they make it (next time?). They have also revised the recipe so that at the very end it reads "Eat at your own risk." Although an appropriate comment, it is likely unnecessary for anyone who just finished reading the list of ingredients.

Animals

Last year, the Christmas of 2007 Spencer said that what he wanted most was "something with eyes." This meant that he wanted a stuffed animal, or a hard plastic animal, or a soft rubber animal, or maybe some kind of guy. He did not want clothes or board games or puzzles. His taste in gifts has changed since then though. He loves getting books. He says he loves getting clothes and prefers birthday cards to the gifts (but I think that is not true, but said because Spencer is trying to distinguish himself from the crowd of unoriginal six year olds who do not like getting clothes and do not really understand the point of birthday cards). I digress though. Spencer likes animals. He likes dogs and cats and birds and bugs. And he likes playing with little animal figurines. And sleeping with stuffed animals. His bed strongly resembles a nest. He arranges his blankets (I have recently limited him to three, though tonight he managed to get a fourth in there. When left unchecked, he has had as many as six blankets) around him and then he places his stuffed animals into whatever arrangement currently has meaning for him. There is usually some sort of overarching theme or storyline to the placement. He does not have a favorite animal that he sleeps with every night. The animals are rotated frequently. Recently, Jon's parents, Sue and Randy, gave the boys a book titled "Agate," in which every birthstone is paired with a zoo animal. Spencer loves the book. He read it two times the first night and then so many times the second day that he memorized it. That night he scooped up the five animals in his bed and replaced them with just two. An elephant and a lion. He did this because in the book February/Amethyst is an elephant and May/Emerald is a lion. He called down to me later from his bed to tell me that what he really wants for Christmas or his birthday this year is an emerald lion. A few nights later, the elephant and lion were replaced with a mouse, a cat, a dog, and a wolf. These animals represents Wormtail, Professor McGonagall, Sirious Black and Lupin. Obviously we are currently reading from the Harry Potter series.

Green Eggs and Ham

Oven the past week the boys and I having been making gluten-free treats for the holidays. Tonight we made mint merengue cookies with chocolates. Although we needed only the egg whites for the cookies, Spencer did not want me to waste the yolks. I put the yolks into a separate bowl for Spencer. He got busy. He was in and out of the pantry adding things to the bowl. Eventually Spencer's focused attention drew in Michael as well. They continued the food project together, crushing things in plastic bags, adding a pinch of this, a handful of that. After I finished the cookies (by myself) and put them into the oven, I agreed to fry up the eggs. Spencer sampled the finished product and declared it good (even when I questioned him repeatedly on how that was possible). The boys were (are) very cute. They started talking about making the recipe again - first asking if we could do it in the morning. No. Well certainly before Christmas? Maybe. They want to make it without gluten next time (next time?) so that Michael and I can try it. They recorded the recipe on paper (so they will not forget it). They came up with a name for the recipe, the "MS Concoction." They decided that we should make the MS Concoction on halloween and feed it to the kids (or "customers" as they called them) who came to our door (at least to the kids who do not have a nut allergy). Here is the list of ingredients:
egg yolk
water
graham crackers (optional)
cheesy rice quakes, crumbled
peanuts, crushed
sunflower seeds
brown sugar
cheese powder
cinnamon
basil
oregano
rosemary
salt
vanilla extract
peppermint extract
green food coloring*

* In future they would like to try different colors

Money Matters

I began giving the boys an allowance in June of this year. Prior to that time, I had not given the topic much (if any) thought. Before I instituted an allowance policy for the first time I wanted to give it some thought. I knew that no matter how I structured the allowance, one, or both boys, could/would cry foul. Plus, there are important concepts rolled up with the allowance which could teach the boys lessons about spending, saving and money management. So I did not want to be hasty. After thinking about it and discussing it with others, I made my decision. I gathered the boys to give them the good news. I explained that I was going to start giving them a monthly allowance. I have to admit that I expected the boys would be enthusiastic at this point. They were not. It is not that they were particularly unenthusiastic about it either though. I think perhaps they were awaiting further details before they let themselves feel excited. So I gave them more details. I explained that the allowance would be based on their age, but would be capped at age 10, so it would not grow beyond what I thought was reasonable. Spencer thought that was unfair because Michael would get more money than he would. Michael thought it was unfair because Spencer would begin getting an allowance when he was only five years old, whereas Michael's allowance was not going to start until Michael was eight years old. There is no pleasing everyone. I plowed ahead. I reminded them that they would need to continue to do the jobs around the house that we had previously established. No problem. Well, a little problem. According to Michael, Spencer is not always good about doing all of his jobs. Hmmm. Spencer agreed to be better. I discussed the importance of savings. Apparently I need not have talked about that at all. The boys informed me exasperatedly that they already know how important it is to save. Super. I told them that I would be putting half of their allowance directly into their savings accounts every month. We then talked about charitable giving and that I would be putting aside an additional ten percent of their monthly allowance. No problems there either. In fact, Michael immediately opted to increase the amount to twenty percent because that would be better for helping people. And so it was done. The boys received their portion of the allowance each month - 30% for Michael, 40% for Spencer. They did not spend it frivolously. Both boys have purchased a couple books. Michael bought his MP3 player. But mostly they have saved their money. They enjoy counting it. At the end of August Michael received a cash gift for his birthday. This inspired Spencer. He began depositing 100% of his allowance into his savings account, as well as any other money he receives. He may be a little competitive. However, that competitive spirit has been good for Spencer's bank account and now Jon thinks it may be time to talk to Spencer about investing.

Halloween Pictures

Rolling Rocks

Two Christmases ago we bought Michael a rock tumbler for Christmas. The boys like rocks. They collect them. We have boxes of rocks in the house. They find cool rocks at the river (though I have discovered that "cool" is most certainly in the eye of the beholder), camping, even from in front of our house. Despite the number of rocks in the house, the rock tumbler sat in its box, unused. At the end of the summer we took a cabin trip. We found more agates than ever before on this trip. We decided to polish agates from our trip. The boys were excited. Heck, I was excited. We quickly learned that there are three stages to the tumbling process. The first takes 2-4 days. The second stage takes 12-14 days and the final stage takes 7 days. Considering that we thought it was going to take 1-2 days, 3 days tops, we stayed pretty enthusiastic. We chose the agates we wanted to tumble. We set the rock tumbler up in the basement, found an extension cord, and started it spinning. We shut the door to the laundry room and went upstairs to mark the calendar. It felt good to have the process under way, no more nagging voice in the back of my head saying that I really ought to figure out how to work that rock tumbler.
Later that day we realized the rock tumbler is quite loud. We can hear it pretty clearly on the first floor. We can also hear it on the second floor when all is quiet, like when we are going to sleep. We decided that next time we would put it in the garage.
The rocks looked better than expected after the first stage. I was surprised by what a difference the coarse grit had made. Spencer decided they were good enough, but I convinced him to continue the process.
Stage two was so long. The noise was getting to me. It was constant. Michael pointed out that the sound was coming up through the vents. Eventually, finally, stage two was over and we went to get the rocks and tumbler ready for stage three. However, there was a problem. The machine was on, the rotor was spinning, but it was not turning the barrel which contained the rocks. Michael showed me that the little rubber ring had broken. I thought I would easily be able to order a replacement part and so we prepared the rocks for stage three.
And there they sat. I discovered that this particular brand of rock tumbler does not sell replacement parts. Nice. The rocks continued to sit. I brought the broken ring into the hardware store. They did not have a replacement, but suggested that if I brought the whole tumbler in they could find something that might work. Well, I thought, perhaps I could rig something up that would work my own self. I tried masking tape first. That worked for about 45 seconds. I tried string. That worked for about 1.5 minutes. I tried a rubber band. That worked for six hours before the rubber band broke. I replaced it. Rubber band number 2 worked for about 5 days. I decided that was good enough. We opened the tumbler, rinsed the rocks. They look good. I would like to get a new (better, quieter) rock tumbler and try again.

Miscellaneous

Occasionally I wake to one of the boys standing next to my bed, about three inches from my face. It is dark. They are not speaking. They are just standing there looking at me. It freaks me out.

Spencer was invited to a birthday party. He was apprehensive about going. When we arrived at the party, he was still a bit uncomfortable. The father of the birthday girl was making balloon animals. He told Spencer that he could make a dog, a giraffe, or a cool hat and then asked Spencer which one he would like. "I'm good," Spencer said. Apparently he was all set that day with the balloon animals.

Michael recently realized that he could record his voice on his MP3 player. He is in the process of reading one of his books into the player so that he can listen to it later. So clever. I really need to look into MP3 downloads for him.

Spencer said that I am more beautiful than Brett Favre's wife.

I Love Rock 'n Roll

A month ago or so, Michael brought home an order form for Scholastic Books. Inside the catalog was an ad for an MP3 player which cost something ridiculous like $20. He wanted it. He planned to download audio books and listen to them when he was "too tired to actually read." It is good to see him branching out so much this year. I liked the price, but I was concerned about the quality. We looked on the internet, found (with some help) and ordered a different, but reasonably priced MP3 player.

The package was due to be delivered Monday, three days later. Each day Michael would say (more than once) he was excited about Monday. "Do you know why?" he would query me. "Because that is the day my MP3 player is coming," he would continue excitedly. I liked seeing him so enthusiastic about this new way to "read" books. However, it was a long three days for Michael. Monday arrived, and with it, the MP3 player. We charged the MP3 player. Then the process stalled for a few days while I looked for inexpensive MP3 files of books. Unfortunately, I determined that they are expensive. We have not yet bought one. I did download some music onto his MP3 player. He loves it. He listens to it frequently. Currently, he particularly likes "A Hard Day's Night" by the Beatles. He also commented that he likes the beginning of "All You Need is Love" because it sounds like music that would be played for a king. I am reminded of when Michael was three and he asked for three cd's for his fourth birthday. He wanted Ella Fitzgerald, Bob Marley, and the Big Chill soundtrack. I am currently downloading more music for him.

Halloween Costumes

Halloween is coming. Michael plans to be a barrel of toxic waste. Or, more specifically, Calvin (of Calvin and Hobbes) dressed as a barrel of toxic waste. I am currently in the process of collecting the materials for the costume. I hope I have my camera working by Halloween. I would like to document this costume. Though perhaps I am being optimistic about my skills.


Spencer had a more difficult time settling on a costume. He originally wanted to be an archer. He is interested in bows and arrows. We went to the costume store and purchased a bow and arrow. It is a toy. It does not really work. In retrospect, I should have explained this to Spencer prior to purchase. Although he was dissatisfied with the bow and arrow, he was not discouraged. He decided to go with Plan B. I would make him a bow and arrow that really shoots, with notched arrows, hard points, not plastic. Although I am pleased that he has so much confidence in my craftiness, my response to "Can you make that?" is (unfortunately) ummm, no. I explained to Spencer that costumes do not need to be perfect. It is acceptable, even expected, for part or all of a costume to be non-functioning props. He was not convinced, but he agreed to keep the toy bow and arrow. I agreed to make the rest of his costume. We discussed how it should look. We agreed. Perfect. We were set. At least we were until Spencer watched The Lord of the Rings movie (commonly abbreviated LOTR, as I would come to find out later, on websites devoted to incredibly detailed descriptions of the characters' costumes). Now Spencer wanted to be Legolas the elf. But first, quick question from Spencer, "who are better archers, elves or native americans?" Hmmm. Not sure how to answer that one. But no matter. Spencer is excited about Legolas. He proceeded to tell me exactly what he needed for the costume. It seemed like more than I could handle. I tried to talk him down. It was a losing battle for me. He had seen Legolas in the movie. He knew what he wore. And he wanted to wear the same thing. Or a very close approximation. I gave up and went to the internet to search for a Legolas costume for kids. I found one and showed it to Spencer. No good. He pointed out (rightly) that Legolas never wore anything remotely resembling the costume in the movie. At that point, I suggested that Spencer look at other costumes on the internet to see if there was something (anything) that he might like. He agreed (thankfully). He wanted to be Frodo until I mentioned that he could not trick or treat in bare feet. He is a purist. It is bare feet or no Frodo costume. So he kept looking. He settled (finally) on Harry Potter. As a side note, Spencer told me that when he liked Star Wars it was just a phase he was going through. Now he likes Harry Potter. And the clear implication was that this was not a phase. Not a phase at all.

Vocabulary Lesson

Michael and I were having a conversation over the weekend. I do not recall now the subject matter of our conversation, but in the midst of it Michael used the word "ersatz" in a sentence. Correctly. He is nine. "Ersatz" is not a word that has appeared on one of his spelling or vocabulary lists for school. These two facts caused me to wonder (reasonably I think) where he learned the word and how he had managed to work out its proper usage. As it turns out, he read it in one of the Lemony Snicket books. He explained to me the context in which it was used in the story. He is both cute and smart.

Spencer was rightly feeling proud of himself when he got home from school yesterday. "I got a compliment," he told me. His teacher said that Spencer has a very impressive vocabulary. "She said it in front of the whole class." He is also both cute and smart.

Tooth Fairy

Michael and Spencer do not believe in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny or the Tooth Fairy. Shortly after Michael uncovered the truth about Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy also fell. Spencer too easily made the leap from Santa to the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. When Michael first let on that he knew that there was no Easter Bunny, I asked him how he had arrived at that conclusion. He responded with such incredulity regarding the idea that a rabbit, that is, a bunny, could carry baskets to everyone in the world in one night. The proposition was completely preposterous to him. He did not ask what I thought, but I have always believed the idea of the Tooth Fairy to be the most incredible and the most creepy (what with all of the teeth and everything). Michael commented that although he knew there was no Tooth Fairy, "it would be so easy to figure out if the Tooth Fairy is real." All he would have to do is lose a tooth, keep it a secret, put it under his pillow and see if it was still there in the morning (he is so scientific with his proving of things). A few days ago Spencer asked me, apropos of nothing, whether the Tooth Fairy could leave him a cool rock instead of money. This request struck me as noteworthy on two counts. First, Spencer has not lost any teeth yet and he already knows that the Tooth Fairy is not real. Sad. Second, there is too much of a sense of entitlement in this request. The Tooth Fairy leaves money. Not rocks. Not even cool rocks. The bargain has always been, leave the tooth, get some unspecified amount of money. Not, as Spencer would clearly prefer, get whatever you have had the forethought to ask your parents for. But Spencer is ready for a change. And I am not opposed. My guess is that it will come down to whether I have any cool rocks on hand when Spencer loses his first tooth.

Computer Room

I decided last week that it was time to finish up the computer room. I had painted the walls and trim about 10 months ago. Even with the humidity of the last few days, I was pretty sure that was enough time for the paint to dry. I wanted to move some furniture about and do a few other finishing touches. To that end, I bought a bookshelf, which I put together one night with no trouble (I am quite handy). I moved an old table out of that room and into the laundry room (I am also quite strong). I bought an armchair with an ottoman as a comfortable spot to read. I hung pictures. I repotted plants. I was a flurry of activity for two evenings. Last night I put a cozy blanket on the chair. Both boys seemed impressed with what I had done. We decided that the last thing the room needed was a floor lamp to put next to the chair.
This morning I realized that Spencer had other ideas for what the room needed. Or perhaps he simply wanted a more active role in putting the room together. He brought me into the computer room. He was excited. He had put a number of his stuffed animals (I counted 21) around the room in strategic locations. He had one hanging from one of the plants. One was climbing up a table. A few were peeking out from behind books. A bird was perched high on the shelf in the closet. “Doesn’t this look good?” he asked. “So good,” I said. We sat together on the chair. I sipped my tea while he pointed the animals out to me one by one. He had placed them carefully. And they did look good. He did a nice job. Whimsical. It was pleasant sitting there. We both felt good about the work we had done to make the room comfortable. Before we left the house, while I packed up, Spencer turned each of the animals onto its side so it could take a nap while we were away. During the remainder of the day while I was at work, whenever I thought of the 21 animals taking a nap in my newly-decorated computer room, I felt happy (though I am not sure I completely understand why).

Good Morning

I came into the kitchen this morning as the boys were finishing up breakfast. Michael promptly declared, "I don't think you look quite as old as you really are. I think you look five years younger." This comment seemed to me to be completely out of the blue (but reasonable). However, I imagine that it was not truly out of the blue. I imagine that while I was upstairs getting ready for the day, the boys were eating their breakfast and having a serious discussion about age, what factors can be examined to determine age, what characteristics are affected by age, etc. I would have liked to listen in, unobserved, during that conversation. I think it would have been quite interesting. And perhaps it would have given me some insight into Spencer's next comment that when he looks at how tan my skin is and how clearly my veins show through my skin, he thinks I look exactly as old as I am. "As you get older your skin gets thinner," he explained. "Look at my arm," he said as he showed me his arm. "You can hardly see my veins, but look at yours. I can see them all."

Summer Pictures

Animal House

After breakfast this morning I asked Spencer to make his bed. Now, although I do not require the boys to make their beds every morning, I recognize that this is a fairly ordinary request. Of course, now that I say this (or write it), I think I am being altogether too lax and that I need to institute a far stricter bed-making regimen for the boys. Hmmm. At any rate, back to this morning. I expected that Spencer would (1) make his bed, or (2) argue with me about making his bed, or (3) bargain with me in some manner, which, long story short, ends with his bed still unmade. Spencer did not argue with me. Nor did he bargain with me. He did in fact make his bed. And, he went a little farther. A new and higher level of bed-making. I went to check on him. He was working busily, arranging (some of) his stuffed animals atop his blue satin blanket (a Christmas present from Santa Claus). I noted that the animals were grouped by type, i.e., bears together, dogs together, etc. If I had not noted that on my own, Spencer (helpfully) pointed it out to me. He also pointed out which animals were putting on the "show." Which animals were the audience. And which animal was the host of the "show." I did not ask Spencer what exactly he meant by "show," but my sense is that the "show" was like a circus performance.

Michael, now done with piano practice, must have been intrigued (or at the very least, interested). He came upstairs to see what was happening. Spencer began explaining to Michael the intricacies of the animal placements, and also told Michael that he, Spencer, had not used any of the stuffed cats in his show (Spencer knows that Michael loves cats and would want to include cats in his audience if Michael made his own show). And so he did. Michael later retrieved me from the kitchen to "see what they had done." Michael had followed Spencer's lead and had his animals arranged in groups that included a grouping of extinct animals and a grouping of underwater animals, among others. But the boys had not stopped there. They had added new levels to the animal groupings. They detailed the familial relationships between various animals, and who had adopted whom, including four generations of monkeys in which each generation had adopted the next generation.

One thing I notice and admire when the boys play together like this is that they bounce ideas off of one another. They look to the other for approval. They are encouraging and supportive of one another. And very creative in a cooperative way. It is so sweet. It is possibly my very favorite thing about how they play together. It makes me glad they have each other.

Vacation

The boys and I are on vacation this week. On Sunday we went to a lake resort. Upon arrival, both boys exclaimed repeatedly about how nice the hotel was, how nice the room was, etc. I am not certain if they really believed it was an incredibly nice hotel or if they were trying to make me feel good. We were a little late arriving on Sunday due to a long, unexpected detour. While I checked in, the boys checked out the flatscreen tv which was hanging in the lobby and showing film of the water park. Although it was nearly dinner time, neither boy was hungry (or so they both claimed), and so we went directly to the waterpark.

The waterpark was good. Both the air temperature and the water temperature were comfortable. The park was not terribly crowded and was of a manageable size. There was an area for smaller kids and an area with three big slides. The three slides were at the top of what seemed to be five flights of stairs. One slide required the rider to go down feet first while seated on an inner tube. The other two slides were feet-first body slides. All three slides went very fast and contained tunnels which made it impossible to know which way you were going to be thrown. It turns out that I may be a bit of a wimp. But the boys are not. They did not think the slides were too fast or too scary.

The weather on Monday was not particularly warm, but we spent some time out by the pool and inside at the indoor pool and playing pingpong. Both boys have improved their pingpong skills since last summer. After lunch we decided we would rent jetskis. I have never ridden one, but it was very fun. Michael rode with me for most of an hour. He was a little dismayed that I opted not to drive super fast. He kept encouraging me to "crush it" and asking me "are you going to crush it?" and complaining "you should have crushed it." I'm not sure if that is a new term that means "to go really fast." Or if it was a reference to the action of "crushing" the throttle with my hand. At any rate, it was fun. And I did crush it a few times.

At dinner the first night, Spencer ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I'm not sure why the kitchen does not make the sandwiches themselves, but they do not. Instead they buy these (I'll call them) sandwiches which are made by Smuckers and come in a cellophane package. This is how Spencer's dinner was brought to the table. In a cellophane bag on top of a plate. Spencer was not sure what to make of it. It did not look like they used real bread. In the end he thought it was disgusting. I don't blame him. The next morning at breakfast I read the breakfast menu aloud to Spencer. One of the options was silver dollar pancakes. He said that was what he wanted, but asked if I could first check to make sure that the pancakes did not come in a bag. Again, I do not blame him.

We spent the day yesterday at my mom's house with their cousins. All four boys spent some time in the pool. After swimming, everyone except Spencer played guitar hero. Cole asked me at one point, "Are you even trying?" I was.

Today was a lovely day. We did not have any particularly interesting activities planned for the day. We slept in a little. Or at least I did. The boys got up at 6:47 and 6:52 (they are very exact) and started playing with legos. I want to take a picture of the lego room, but I know it will not do it justice. Every lego is on the floor. They do not want anything moved. They have a system. We went to an indoor play park after breakfast. This was nice for me as it allowed me to read my book for nearly an hour. The boys enjoyed it too.

In the afternoon we went down to the river. We brought a sifter and looked for gems. We did not find any, but we found a lot of other rocks which we brought home for their rock collection.

Later in the afternoon, Spencer came in from playing outside with Michael and announced "We have an injury." Of course I thought it was Michael. But it was not. It was a young bunny. It looked like a part of it had been bitten (perhaps off/away). Anyway, the poor bunny was in our yard and not moving like a rabbit should. I made some calls and it was determined that we should bring the bunny in for care. Mom arrived (she and Patty were coming over for dinner) and we put the bunny in the box. Actually my mom put the bunny in the box. I had a notion that it might bite me. I'm not sure where that idea came from, and it was certainly unfounded. The injured young bunny was completely docile. Weird. Not at all what one would expect from an injured young bunny. At any rate, we got into the car and took the bunny in while dinner cooked away on the stove. When we returned home 40 minutes later, dinner (at least the vegetables) was a little worse for the wear. The meal was nevertheless enjoyable. After dinner we played games. The boys are now upstairs asleep. Lovely.

Zero, My Hero

On the way to work this morning Spencer was expounding on the importance of zero. The number. The concept. He remarked that we could not have gotten to the moon if we did not have zero. I do not understand specifically how zero makes space travel possible. And yet, I was reluctant to ask him how zero helped us reach the moon. I am pretty sure he expects me to know the answer and he expects me to have the ability to explain it to him. After a minute, I began to feel guilty. I thought I should try to explain. A little. I began, haltingly, by stating that zero as a concept is important to math (hoping he would not ask me why). I went on to explain that math skills were involved in designing rockets. Spencer took in those remarks without a direct reply, commenting instead that zero was also important to the invention of new technologies. Ok. Now I am stumped. I do not know how zero is involved with designing anything. Luckily, that was all Spencer had to say on the concept of zero. His next comment was "oh, that's a very lovely patio" as we drove by what I can only assume was a house with a very lovely patio.

Mmmm.....Crab Icecream

In the days preceding Spencer's sixth birthday, he communicated to me that he wanted to go out for a special birthday dinner. This special birthday dinner would take place after a sleepover with the cousins, a trip to Chuck E Cheese and a picnic with the family. He wanted Chinese food. I agreed. Subsequently he changed his mind. Apparently he loooves crab. It is soooo good. Plus he wants to try clams. I have no idea where all of this is coming from. But I would like to encourage it. Michael was more than a little concerned until I explained to him that seafood restaurants do in fact serve foods other than seafood. He was still skeptical. So could I order a hamburger or chicken? Yes. And would it be made out of seafood? No. It is reasonable, I thought to myself, that the boys would not understand that a seafood restaurant does not serve seafood exclusively. I was pleased to have cleared this up for them. I then suggested that we would be able to get something yummy for dessert after our dinner. "Like crab icecream?" Spencer asked sincerely. No. I suggested bananas foster (I guess I am still disappointed I did not get it on my birthday). Michael then inquired how they would make bananas foster out of seafood.

Math Test

Michael was very proud of himself yesterday, and rightly so. The principal of his school announced over the P.A. system yesterday that Michael was the only student at the school to get a certain high score on the standardized math skills test given for each grade.

Mother's Day

For Mother's Day, the boys were very sweet and had made me a number of presents. I thought they were so lovely, I have included pictures of some of them below.


This is from Spencer. I do not know how to turn the image. I would accept help.

Michael made the above picture and poem for me. He also wrote the "Bat Hunt" poem below.

Spencer also gave me a geranium seedling in a pretty pot that he made and many pictures of flowers that he drew.

Michael also gave me a coupon book. It says "Thank you Mom for... Making my lunch every day, correcting my homework sometimes, for washing my clothes. You deserve a break!!!" The book then contains coupons, including:

Back massages

Letting me sleep until 9:30 a.m.

Helping fold the laundry

Trying not to annoy Spencer

Helping to unload the dishwasher

Letting Luka in and out

Drawing a picture for me

Helping me make a meal

They are very sweet boys.

pictures

Isn't it Unusual?

Spencer asked over dinner if I wanted to hear "an unusual story." Of course I would. He then proceeded to tell me the O. Henry story, The Gift of the Magi. When he finished, he asked, "isn't that unusual?" He meant "ironic," of course, which Michael was very eager to point out.

When I Grow Up....

Michael took a break from eating his dinner to remark in an offhand manner (can I say "offhandedly"?) that when he grows up he wants to be an author or an editor and live in New York. The City you might ask, as I did. No. Upstate. In the winter, Michael went on, he would move down to Tallahassee, Florida (a place we have never been, nor about which we have spoken), where he'd have a second house, and there he would study animals, primarily cats, bats and owls.

My initial reaction was surprise. It seemed to me to be a lot of thought, detail and planning for someone Michael's age. Of course when I was Michael's age I had a friend who wanted to be a dolphin when she grew up. And I was still entertaining the possibility that I could speak with animals and was hoping to some day turn into a good witch.

My next thought was, why not a doctor? I have never pushed this idea, but I do not understand why it is not more appealing to the boys. Clearly, though, Michael is not particularly interested in a medical career. He told me he would think more about becoming a doctor, but he is leaning toward no. Perhaps I looked disappointed, because he then capitulated (a very little), suggesting that maybe he could "be a doctor in his spare time." His words. I explained that one could not realistically be a doctor only in one's spare time. What about a geologist, he asked? I said yes, that sounded reasonable. So doctor is completely out.

Michael's last remarks were that perhaps he would like to become a teacher. If he went that route, he would like to teach fifth grade and he would like for the children in his classroom to call him Mr. W.

As you might expect, Spencer has plans as well. First though, and of special importance to him, was the issue of where he would live if Michael was dividing his time between New York and Florida. He suggested to Michael that they could live together in New York (sweet), but Michael said that brothers do not live together (crushed). Spencer, ever the pragmatist, then asked Michael if they could get separate houses on the same block. Michael did not think much of that idea. He thought it very unlikely that both of them would be able to find a house at the same time on the same block. Upon further reflection, Spencer decided that I would be lonely if both Michael and Spencer moved away, so Spencer said he would stay here near me. That decided, he move onto his professional aspirations. He said he would like to be a doctor, a gold miner or a teacher. If he taught schoold, he'd like to teach kindergarten or first grade.

Or Beverages Either

I drive Spencer to school every morning. Michael takes the bus, so he is not with us. On Monday, Spencer asked brightly, “What are you going to tell me about today?” Our conversations on the way to school have ranged from the presidential election, to the state of the economy, to the sale of the company where I work, to the plotline of the book I am currently reading, to name a few. But, now, under pressure, I crumbled. “Well,” I said lamely, “I’m going to lunch with Nichole today. I’m not sure yet where.” Inadequate. Pathetic. I knew this. But Spencer admonished me anyway, “Please (exasperated sigh) no stories about meals.”

Vindication

I took the boys to dinner Saturday night. Typically when we go to dinner Michael brings along a book to read in the car, while we sit at the table waiting for the food, after he’s done eating, in the car on the drive home (if he remembers his book light). However, on Saturday he forgot his book. We were just a short distance from the house when he moaned, “I forgot my book. I can’t believe I did that. What am I going to do now? This is going to be so boring.” My feelings were not hurt at all. I remember feeling bored at restaurants when I was young. Though, on the other hand, I am funny and a great story teller, which (now that I think about it), Michael would know if he was not always reading a book. So I countered to Michael, “It won’t be boring. We can talk.” Another moan. He was not convinced. He grabbed a copy of The Onion and began reading it as soon as we sat down. But that did not hold his interest for very long. So then we all talked. Well, mostly I talked. The boys really enjoy hearing stories about when they were young and also stories about when I was young. We had a very nice time. The next morning on the way to visit my grandmother, Spencer said “I wish Michael had forgotten his book again. It was nice to talk.”

Don't Stop Now

Before the boys go to bed each night, I read to them. We have read many books over the years. Too many for me to recall, but here is a partial list.
Magic Tree House series
ABC Mystery series
Because of Winn Dixie
Tiger Rising
The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane
Narnia series
Wrinkle in Time series
Tuck Everlasting
Shiloh
The Black Pearl
Island of the Blue Dolphins
More books by Roald Dahl than I am able to recall
Last week we were nearing the end of a book titled “The Magnificent Benedict Society.” Unfortunately, I was forced (by the dictates of bedtime) to stop reading at a particularly exciting point in the story. Spencer looked at me, disbelieving that I was actually done reading for the night, and exclaimed “Dude, that’s a cliffhanger.”

Ah Spring

At dinner last month, I told Michael that a woman at work was commenting on his beautiful eyes and wondering if he had a girlfriend. I know that he does not. However, I asked him if he liked any girls. No. Fidget. I asked him if any girls liked him. Yes. Two. Giddy. Giggling. I asked him what are the girls' names. Taylor and Sylvia. More giddiness. More giggling. Now Spencer is laughing too. In the midst of his giggling, Michael offers, "Spring. The season when a young man's fancy turns to love." And so it must be, because the next night at dinner, I discovered that Michael loves Sylvia and Sylvia loves Michael.

Mom Who?

My birthday was last week. The boys wanted to give me pillows. I helped them make the pillows with their portable sewing machine. By the way, I do not sew. When the pillows were completed, Michael asked me, sincerely, to forget that these pillows constituted my birthday gift. It is difficult for me to imagine that a boy as bright as Michael could believe that after spending over an hour helping them sew these pillows (did I mention that I do not know how to sew?), it would be possible for me, over the next two days, to completely forget about it. But maybe I am looking at this from the wrong angle. Perhaps that is exactly how Michael views me. It just may be time (in the interest of preserving the respect the boys still have for me) to stop pretending that I can be fooled this easily.

We went out to dinner for my birthday. It was lovely. The boys gave me the presents (hint: pillows) and homemade cards. In two places on my card from Michael, he wrote "To Mom (Laura)".

It's Got a Great Beat, But....

Spencer put on a new pair of pants this morning. They are denim and apparently a little stiff. He said they were uncomfortable and that they would be horrible pants for Dance Dance Revolution (apparently the standard by which he judges all pants). We have never played that game. Nor, to the best of my knowledge, has he seen anyone play that game. But clearly he has a sense that freedom of movement is essential to success.

Popcorn Rules!

Popcorn is delicious. Obviously. Both the boys and I enjoy it. If we go to the theater, we always order popcorn. Spencer's strong preference is that no popcorn be eaten until the movie, or at least the previews, begins. This is reasonable I think. At home, other guidelines have emerged. Spencer believes popcorn should be eaten one kernel at a time. I do not think that is unreasonable. It is preferable to the handful of popcorn shoveled into the mouth approach. However, I do not care to be reprimanded when I take a handful of popcorn from the bowl, which I then eat one piece at a time. Spencer thinks this is unacceptable because it is harder for him to monitor if I am following the one-at-a-time rule. He does not want to watch me eat popcorn. He wants to watch the movie. To counter what he apparently sees as my all-too-quick consumption of the popcorn, he periodically, probably once or twice before all of the popcorn is gone, removes the bowl of popcorn, places it out of reach, and declares "it is time for a break."

Short and Sweet

Michael has his first email account, complete with occasional spam (which is new and confusing still to Michael). Michael's grandpa Gordy told me that he asked Michael a number of questions in an email (e.g., how was your field trip, what book are you currently reading, are you feeling better). The last question in this particular email was "Does Spencer have an email address too?" Michael's emailed response to the entire email was the somewhat terse and enigmatic, "No." Michael and I had a little talk about email etiquette and I think he got it. I recently emailed Michael and asked a number of questions. No, it was not a test. I asked, "How are you? Will you be playing in the snow today? Is it the kind that is good for making snowballs? I hope you have a nice weekend. Tell Spencer 'hi' from me and that I love him. I love you. Mom." I received this response "Good and I do not know and the snow is bad for packing and you too and I will tell Spencer." I was pleased to see that he took my advice. Now it may be time to talk with him about punctuation.

I Want This Night to End

About an hour after I put the boys to bed on Friday, I heard the sound of little feet running across the floor. I found poor Michael lying on the floor of the bathroom. He was crying and had been sick. I got him clean and changed his sheets and got him settled again in bed. He was sick numerous (read that as eleven) times during the night. Poor kid. At some point, Spencer was woken up too. We all agreed that we wanted that night to end. We spent the next two days doing nothing. By Sunday evening, Michael felt great. Monday morning came and I was in the bathroom getting ready for work. Spencer joined me in the bathroom to tell me that he ate too much on Sunday and that it is giving him a stomach ache now. I suggested perhaps that he was sick. Nope. He just ate too much on Sunday. He threw up within 30 seconds of that comment. He recovered quickly though and was back at school on Tuesday insisting that he had not been sick, that "it was just the stomach flu." Which, somehow in his mind, is different from being sick. I got sick Wednesday. It was miserable. We are all better now.

My Birthday

My birthday is approaching. As usual, I am excited. I cannot help but recall that the boys suggested months ago that I should get bananas foster for my birthday. But (alas) they have not reiterated this (very sweet) idea during what I refer to as my "birthday month." At any rate, my birthday falls mid-week. I thought it would be nice to celebrate with the boys, but I do not want to make myself dinner on my birthday. Spencer confirmed that they cannot cook dinner for me unless I want cereal (I did not quibble with him about the definition of "cook"). We will likely go out for dinner or I will bring home some take out. I have not yet determined which restaurant is appropriate for this very special birthday. Spencer happened across some old invitations which I was putting into recycling. He promptly began filling out an invitation (to nobody in particular) for my birthday. When he got to the location section he paused to consider the options. He began listing possibilities and then eliminating them for one reason or another. One restaurant was not special enough. One is kind of boring because we eat there too much. Another restaurant is good for everyone except me, because I do not really like the food. He is sweet and perceptive, but we still need to select a restaurant.

Meet Timmy

Spencer gets a little shy when I tell a story about something that he has done or said. I always ask his permission first. He usually says no. I do not blame him for not wanting the attention focused on him. However, he is sweet and funny and charming and I like to share these stories with family and friends. We have compromised. Instead of telling stories about Spencer, I tell stories about (the nonexistent) Timmy. I'm guessing this ruse will not last very long. Timmy is way too clever for that.

Do You Need to See My ID?

One of the remarkable qualities of children is their capacity for enthusiasm/wonderment/awe over things that no longer spark such reactions (at least in such force) in the rest of us. This may arise, at least in part, from their (somewhat) limited life experience. Recently, the boys' limited life experience and their capacity for enthusiasm, etc. came together in a very nice way for me. A couple of days ago I drew several pictures of the boys. One might ask why I was drawing at all given the fact that I have no particular talent for drawing. Perhaps the reason is that I stubbornly refuse to accept that for the whole of my life I will not be able to draw (or sing, but that is another story), so I pick it up from time to time to check whether I have somehow acquired these illusive skills. I have not. Nevertheless, I showed the pictures to the boys. Both boys were very impressed. Really. Spencer is even willing to pay me a token for one of the pictures. And Michael exclaimed with much admiration, "You are going to be a famous artist when you grow up." That made me feel good.

A Token for Your Thoughts

A few weeks ago, Spencer asked if I wanted him to brush my hair. Umm. Sure. He got out a comb, a round brush, a regular brush and a big flat-backed brush. He did not grab the big rock which he has used in the past to "brush" my hair. When he finished with my hair, he asked if I'd like a back rub OR a massage. Please note that he intended this as an either/or question. This puzzled me as I didn't know there were important distinctions between the two. It turns out, according to Spencer, that a back rub is quick, light rubbing of the back, lasting for about 30 seconds. A massage consists of hitting or kicking the back. The massage was (surprisingly?) more relaxing than the back rub. When Spencer finished he asked me if that was worth one or two tokens. What? Tokens? This was the first I'd heard of tokens and I honestly didn't know what he wanted. I doubted that he was looking for a subway token. We don't have a subway here. It also seemed unlikely that he was looking for me to give him a heartfelt "thank you" as a token of my appreciation. Maybe he wanted money? Hmm. So many questions spinning through my head and Spencer was looking to me for an answer to his question. I did not know what he meant by "token," nor did I know why he thought he was entitled to one (possibly two) for doing something he had done in the past for free. Also, it was unclear whether I should have had an opportunity, pre-hairbrushing/backrub/massage, knowing the cost, perhaps, to decline one or more. All of these questions were running through my head. In retrospect, I think it would have been very natural to have asked Spencer any one (or all) of these questions. Instead, I responded, simply, "two." Admittedly this was an error on my part. Possibly even foolish. Now both boys are regularing performing various tasks in order to earn tokens. Perhaps this sounds reasonable. But I find it, well, not reasonable. I do not like that their acts of kindness are tied to payment. It has thrown things out of balance. I tried bringing it around last night. Both boys claim I owe them each three tokens. What about dinner I asked. That's one token right there. How about a hug? Two tokens. Tucking into bed? Another token. They thought that was soooo funny. Laughing, they chided me, "That isn't how it works."

Pictures

Of a sudden, Spencer is interested in taking pictures. I will post more as he takes them. He would like a digital camera for Easter. He won't get it, but maybe for his birthday.

Sewing

Michael learned to sew in his after-school childcare. He made a beanbag. Spencer was intrigued. And rightly so. It is impressive to make something. So, I pulled out some fabric and some dried lentils and needle and thread and both boys made beanbags. Hand-sewn. Intoxicated by our success, I pulled out fleece and cotton stuffing stuff, and the boys each made a small soft pillow. Lovely. At this point, they informed me that they were going to start a sewing business. Our good friend Collin heard of this, and very thoughtfully bought the boys a compact sewing machine (inexplicably called "The Shark") for Christmas. The boys brought the sewing machine with them on their visit to Grandma and Grandpa. During that trip they made pillows. With pillowcases (with edging on the pillowcases). I have since purchased more fabric and I am excited to see what they make next.