Parenting & Personal(ity) Differences

The other night Tony and I were watching “The Singing Bee”. It’s a modern day “Name That Tune”. I’m a fountain of knowledge when it comes to mindless trivia and Tony’s knowledge in music lyrics always surprises me. It is very obvious to me when we watch that show that we grew up in completely different worlds – up until the point when we started dating. If there’s an old R&B or country song chances are he’s got the lyrics. I have to wait until a Duran Duran song pops up. In the episode we were watching the contestant was challenged to fill in the missing words to “this classic 1959 Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical number from The Sound of Music”. I shouted out “Oooh!!! I’ve got this one!” which I normally yell out facetiously when they throw completely obscure stuff on there. Cue music. Cue me singing the Do A Deer (Do Re Mi) song word for word. Tony’s jaw hit the floor. He swears he’s never heard the song before! I looked at him like he was nuts and insisted that everyone knows that song. He bet me that nobody else knows that song and I’m just a musical freak.

How is that possible? That song is a staple of my youth. I used to hang in my room with an old phonograph player and listen to The Sound of Music over and over and over. It was one of the 2 or 3 records I owned as a kid. Do Re Mi was one of the songs I loved to play on our little electric organ. I can still bang it out on my kids xylophone.

But I guess it comes down to who raised you. “Mrs. Robinson” is hardly a Broadway musical kinda mom. Her house is still adorned with an Elvis shrine (seriously). I remember growing up listening and singing along to Neil Diamond, John Denver, the Chieftans, James Galway, and various show tunes like The Sound of Music. Tony grew up with Elvis, Hank Williams and Reba.

It just solidifies that we are very different people, having been raised in very different ways, and our parenting skills will be just as different.

Which brings me around to the real reason for this post….

As I said in my last post, I’m taking a few things to heart about the holidays this year and how I want to form them for my kids. I spoke to Tony about the ideas and he seemed to be on board with me. With some very notable differences.

My intention/goal/idea/plan was to continue Christmas as normal, reducing the amount of presents in general and specifically reducing the amount credited to Santa. I thought this was the easiest of the goals as discussion wouldn’t be needed. Kids wake up on Christmas morning to a house with presents! And stockings! And magic! and happiness follows. And no "Santa brought me" tally needed.

Except that Tony decided to lay out a huge proclamation to the boys last night that Santa was only going to bring them one present. WTF?!!! Hysterics followed. Domino woke up this morning crying that “Dad told me a big lie that Santa will only bring me one present!”. I am trying my best to help Domino wrap his head around all that he will be given, I don’t want to completely discount what Tony said because I believe we’re supposed to be “on the same team”, but I’m also really pissed off that it’s even a topic of discussion in the first place. Why in the world would he say that to a 5 year old and a 4 year old?! When Domino's vocal list of the things that Santa is going to bring him started to grow, I told him "I'm sure Santa will bring you things that you'll love" and he was fine with that.

Tony's so on (over)board with the “one present from Santa” concept I expected he’d be on board with the “I wonder…” aspect of Santa. The one where we never speak of Santa as truth, but more with wonder and curiosity. He’s soooo not going along with that. He’s playing the Santa card left and right, threatening to tell Santa to not bring anything, to tell Santa to bring the boys lumps of coal if they don’t start following directions.

If you want to give Santa that much power over your children’s behavior, Santa better be willing to throw down more than one present.

I think I need to go expose the kids to some Julie Andrews.

The Santa Game

I did it. I “played the Santa card”.

I promised myself I wouldn’t, but after 3 rounds of time outs all before 9:30 AM I said those words I vowed I wouldn't say. “Santa’s watching. Do you think this is going to get you on the naughty or nice list?”.

And you know what? It worked. All of my granola ways of “look at how your brother is feeling when you do that to him” or “Wait! I hear Rascal's words! Listen to what he’s saying please!” or “Together we’re better – and what you’re doing doesn’t feel better, does it?”. All of those things go in one ear and right out the other. Play the Santa card and bamn! Perfect angels.

I’m conflicted about the whole Santa charade. Santa should really be considered a scary man. A big strange man who sneaks into your house while you’re sleeping. Who wears a bizarre red suit and doesn’t shave and has a funky laugh. It’s no wonder so many children freak out when thrown on this man’s lap. That should be the normal reaction. The smart reaction. I don’t want to sit on some strange man’s lap and hope that he’s going to break into my house in the middle of the night – even if he promises to bring me presents.

So beyond the Santa Claus himself issues - what about the loot. Why is this strange man getting credit for the hours and hours of shopping, the awesome presents that *I* picked out with the love of my heart knowing exactly what the boys would enjoy, the endless wrapping, the massive bank account drainage… why does this stranger get to be the hero in all of this?

My early childhood guru/mentor Mz Lori had some wonderful words about the whole Christmas craziness that I have been thinking a lot about. Many of them I’ve tried to adopt this year.

Mz Lori never tells the kids about Santa. If they bring him up to her she always tries to create a level of magic and curiosity without ever speaking as truth. “I wonder…” and “I’ve heard it said…” when she’s approached. When we had a “Santa” come to the school to deliver books to the kids, she never called him Santa. The kids all made their assumptions based on his costume and she never lied. There were a lot of “Wow! Do you think?” coming out of her mouth, but never “hey kids – here’s Santa!”. When children were fearful, she explained to everyone that was a perfectly normal reaction to a strange person that you don’t know. She instilled a bit of stranger safety along with holiday wishes. Gotta love that.

She also commented during our monthly parent meeting that with her own children she always called it the “Santa game”. As they got older and they started to piece things together she would say “Do you want to keep playing the Santa game? It is kinda fun” and they could tell her one way or the other. I like the idea of it being a game, a game played with my kids that they can continue to play if they choose instead of having to explain how the world has been lying to them for years.

And probably the most important piece of advice I’m trying to take to heart this year is that these years are the precedent setting years. If you go overboard, they’ll expect that again next year. And the year after. And so on. She said the best gift under the tree should be from the parents, not the strange man in the red suit. I haven’t quite figured out how that works when my boys have written a letter to Santa asking for something specific, but perhaps just that item and the stocking stuffers are from Santa and the other great stuff is from the real heroes of Mom & Dad.

I’m still sorting it all out and figuring out what our family’s truth about the holiday is and will be. For many the holiday is about religion and for us that is not the case. What I’d like to see the holiday be about is family, and what our family can do for each other to show how much we love and appreciate each other...

… without threat of being put on a naughty list.

How Hard Can It Be?

Famous Last Words: “How Hard Can It Be?”

Domino came home from K/1 today with an amazing gingerbread house. I precariously carried it in one hand on a slippery red plastic plate, while balancing a 40+ pound sleeping Rascal and the “Wednesday Envelope” (important school paperwork for the week) in the other arm. I drove home with the gingerbread house placed very carefully on the center console between the driver and passenger seats, my arm bracing it like a seatbelt from any potential catastrophes.

Of course, Monkey See Monkey Do is the modus operandi in this house. Rascal was very upset that he didn’t have his own gingerbread house and asked if he could have one too. “Well hell, it’s just some graham crackers, frosting and some decorations. They made them in kindergarten today”, I thought. “How hard can it be?”

What a mess!!!!!

Martha Stewart I'm not. Ok, obviously there’s a difference between “icing” and “frosting” – differences I couldn’t fully explain before tonight, until I was covered in half a can of greasy Duncan Hines vanilla frosting, while watching the walls of the gingerbread house wobble back and forth like they were experiencing the Loma Prieta earthquake at ground zero.

I started off the house with rectangular walls and quickly realized that wasn’t working for me. I modified my architecture to more of a cabin than a house, reducing the side walls to squares hoping less square footage would give it more stability. But like a trailer park in a tornado, I could tell I was headed for holiday decoration implosion.

When the house finally collapsed (and when I say finally, I think it was only in place for 3 minutes or less) I was really worried how Rascal would react. I laughed and said “Oh no! The big bad wolf blew our house in!” Rascal laughed hysterically and asked if he could decorate it now. Sure kiddo, go to town. For Rascal, decorating=eating candy right out of the bowls. He helped himself to 2 M&Ms, 2 chocolate chips and 2 Skittles (passing up the red nerds and the smarties) and announced he was all done.

Lesson to learn from the 4 year old: A fatally flawed gingerbread house can be much more fun than it's pretty counterpart. (Also, you can eat just a few pieces of candy, realize you don't want any more, walk away and not think about them again...)

Next year I’m sticking to gingerbread men.

Thankful?

This past weekend was Thanksgiving. With so much to be thankful for, I am still feeling a bit down.

My in-laws love me. They really do. I love them. I really do. I don’t want to sound ungrateful because I am so blessed to be welcomed so lovingly into their family. In all of their wackiness, they remind me of “Meet The Robinsons” and they’ve opened their arms and accepted me and all my wackiness. I've grown to appreciate their love for their holiday traditions which includes a first course of "fruit salad" made of canned fruit cocktail, bananas, cool whip and mayonnaise (which I refuse to eat), mashed potatoes with a wallpaper paste like consistency (also made with mayonnaise - it's a sickness), and far more holiday decorations than any single family should own including a cacophony of a dozen or so musical ones that belt out various holiday tunes if you walk nearby. Or sit nearby. Or sneeze nearby. Or breath nearby really - something's always making noise....

That being said, I miss my own family at the holidays.

Many years ago, Thanksgiving seemed so easy and the plans seemed to be set in stone. We went to my aunt and uncle’s house (my dad's brother) for a our traditional Thanksgiving meal with turkey, roasted potatoes, brussel sprouts, stuffing and gravy followed by English trifle and Christmas fruit cake set ablaze. I hear that my dad always bitched and moaned about the holidays and family gatherings, but I can't remember missing one.

After Dad died in 1993, we all sort of got lost. My aunt and uncle still do Thanksgiving, but without the communication hub of my dad, somehow I got dropped off the invite list. I know that I am always welcome to show up on their door but without the invite it seems weird. My dad died just as I was coming into adulthood and I hadn’t really learned who I was, where I fit into the world or how to navigate my role within my family.

Since then, my family has been haphazard about their holiday planning. For the first year or two we continued to go to my aunt and uncle's. My retail job at the time also had me working on Thanksgiving and because of that there were a couple of years that I missed the holiday altogether. During those years I think my family drifted from my aunt and uncle’s plans. My dad was the glue that held us all together and without him we started to float around trying to figure out what our holiday traditions would involve without him and how they would change now that we were all adults, some of us with new families of our own.

Then I met Tony and “cram both families into one day” began. “The Robinsons” always wanted to know just what my family’s plans for the day were - weeks in advance. Realizing what a pain that was, Tony and I made the choice one year to choose between the two. I hadn’t heard anything solid from my family, so we chose “The Robinsons”. And then again the next year. And the next.

I used to call everyone up in my family and ask what their plans were for the day. Usually their plans were “I don’t know”. In contrast, “The Robinsons” have their holiday plans mapped out by summer. As the holiday approaches, I always hope that my family will get their crap together and pull something off. But as Thanksgiving draws closer I give up and resign myself to the foods and traditions of “The Robinsons”, "fruit salad" and the absence of stuffing included.

But here’s the kicker….

Even though my family says they aren’t doing anything, they always get together anyway without me. I’ve prepared myself for this fact over the last couple of years, but it initially caught me off guard. I remember calling my sister once to wish her a happy Thanksgiving and discovered my entire family was there celebrating together. And nobody bothered to mention it to me. I was so angry I cried when I got off the phone. It happened again the next year. I suppose they assume that I will be going to “The Robinsons” for dinner and that’s why they don’t bother to invite me anymore. I'd be more than happy to change my plans given a small heads up or an invite.

I know that my family is not trying to be hurtful. In fact, I would bet they would say they are trying to spare me from having to make a choice. I would also guess they don't want to hurt my feelings about missing their gathering by rubbing in the fact they are getting together without me.

But I still miss them. It seems like we only hang out at my boys’ birthday parties and a very belated Christmas in January (one year, I don’t even think we all got together then because there were Christmas gifts exchanged at Domino’s birthday party in March). I want my kids to know their aunts and uncles and cousins. They are so familiar with all “The Robinsons” family but I have to show them photos of their aunts, uncles and cousins on my side and explain who they are. It makes me sad.

I know that my family is very busy - but I wonder how much different the holidays would be today if my dad was still alive. Would we all make the extra effort to get together? Would it be assumed that I would go to my family's Thanksgiving instead of "The Robinsons"? Would my family see each other more than 3 times a year? Did I mention that we all live within an hour of each other?!

So – what’s the point of this post? I’m not sure. Am I whining? Yes. Am I thankful? Yes. Do I wish things were different? Absolutely.

I told Tony next year we're having Thanksgiving at our house. Invites will go out well in advance. :) If you can't beat 'em, invite 'em.

Happy belated Thanksgiving.

Hell, still waiting for the "and back" part

Where have I been you ask? I’ll tell you. Hell.

And hell has a crashed hard drive. And a boss out of town who keeps dumping more and more work on you when you have no computer. So you are forced to wedge your very adult (and then some) size butt into a preschool sized desk that belongs to your kids. And then you are forced to use a computer from 1999 (that’s right, not even from this millennium) on DIAL UP to access the many emails your boss has sent that all say “need ASAP”. Then you are forced to type documents from efaxes that your boss unknowingly has sent upside down. And you have no printer connected to the prehistoric computer so you have stick your head upside down to read the faxes on a 15 inch monitor smudged with cookie crumbs and greasy fingerprints and write them all out by hand just so you can type them all up. And the space bar key is broken from your oldest child hammering the crap out of it playing the Toy Story 2 video game. So when you type you get (space space space space) a (space space space space) lot (space space space) more (space space space space) spaces (space space) than (space space space) you (space space space space) really (space space space space) want (space space space) so (space space space space) you (space space ) have (space space space space) to backspace between every word.

And then, you get your computer back the following week with a completely wiped hard drive and you have to start a bionic rebuild without any technical skills. After messing around with the inoperable email on your own for a few days, you spend 3 full hours in one sitting with the tech “support” chat folks at Earthlink and are forced to deal with “Maj P” who tells you no less than 15 times that he’s “done all he can do today” and that the “problems you are experiencing are not with Earthlink”. So you scream into the chat window TRANSFER ME TO YOU SUPERVISOR NOW!!!! which s/he does. And the supervisor remotely logs into your computer and within 10 minutes has completely solved the problem. The same problem that 3 hours of tech support with “Maj P” resulted in insistence it was not their problem.

And then there’s still the trouble with Netgear, the folks who have their very own special corner of hell. The folks who CHARGE you for customer service. Oh yes, if your Netgear is out of whack, it’s going to cost you $36.50 for 30 minutes of support. The same painful support you were forced to use when you first installed the Netgear about 3 years ago, and you first experienced “outsourcing” to a foreign land and had to ask the person to repeat every single thing they said. Sometimes twice. So you do the mental math about how long it took you to install the router with their help 3 years ago and you decide that it would be cheaper to hire a local person to come and fix it. But nobody will return your calls about it. Probably heard the word “Netgear” and laughed their butts off on the other end. Then you find someone that is highly recommended, you start talking with them, they keep making you feel more and more desperate, and then they hit you with the whammy. Travel time fees. Yes, because your city is the bastard step child of Napa County, it’s gonna cost an extra $35 just for travel. The same travel you do twice, sometimes 3 times a day, bringing the kids to school and back. You agree because you’re desperate. What single income family needs $100 heading into Christmas, right?!

Then you feel this burning in your shoulders from the stress and the very non-ergonomically correct corner where you are forced to spend many hours plugged into the DSL router tinkering with wireless settings, IP address configurations, downloading and installing patches, chatting with support folks that are anything but supportive. So you buy what looks like a good product – a patch you stick on your neck and shoulders that heats up to relieve the tension. But the manufacturer of this product has a wicked sense of humor and they’ve created a product that is supposed to stick to your body, specifically an area that should be allowed to move somewhat freely, and they’ve made this patch out of a piece of cloth with zero flexibility. So you bend the wrong way and you accidentally pop it off your shoulders with the adhesive taking a layer of flesh with it. Then the adhesive side whips up and attaches firmly into the hair at the base of your neck.

So you think to yourself – what the hell else could go wrong?! And then your 5 year old throws up at your feet.

*Updated 11/19. Domino is feeling much better today. A full day on the couch watching Nascar racing and normally banned shows like Power Rangers and he's up and running with no sign of cooties. I'm keeping a close eye on Rascal just in case it's a 24 hour thing.

Also up and running is my wireless network! The "Wizard" came out today and spent almost 3 hours solving the myriad of problems. I was really relieved to see him struggle with it because I realized it was worth every penny that I was paying him. Unfortunately, I hadn't expected it to take him as long as it did and I didn't have enough cash - even after raiding the kids piggy banks. So, I paid the balance in my old Star Wars crew gear. Sort of a bummer to lose those things, but my sanity is worth much more than a Yoda mug and a Star Wars backpack.

Through The Eyes of Four

Today, I got a wild hair up my backside and decided to do a bunch of yardwork. As if yardwork in and of itself isn't a lot of work, entertaining "Four" while doing yardwork is an entirely different experience.

But today - something happened. I gave Jasper my camera and told him to "go wild!" and let him roam all over the front yard while I raked leaves. I think he's got a natural gift! Following are all photos taken by Rascal... enjoy!

Thanks for the wonderful memory Rascal! Who knew our yard could be so beautiful and interesting?!

Lunch Box Nemesis

Domino likes to be first in line at school. With our long commute we’ve been getting to school earlier than we expected, so by default he’s been the first kid in line almost every day. Occasionally we’ll hang out in the car playing with Leapsters and staying warm as long as possible, but most days Domino is ready and eager to hit school and take the #1 spot in line headed for his classroom.

That is – until about 2 weeks ago. We arrived our usual 20+ minutes early and headed out to the playground for our routine early line up. As soon as we rounded the corner and headed through the gate – there it was – the pink lunchbox placed squarely at the head of the line with no child in sight. Domino stopped dead in his tracks. I could see the gears in his head spinning “What is that? How did it get there? What does it mean??” Once he processed through the “what does it mean” I saw the realization wash over his entire body that he was not first in line after all. “No big deal” I explained to him, "that girl’s mom is probably working in the classroom today and they’re already inside." He took that answer pretty well and proudly stood in line in the #2 spot. And the girl? Proudly pranced over to claim her #1 spot in line just after the first bell rang and lead everyone into the classroom.

We arrived the next day to the same pink lunchbox. And the next day. And the next day. It didn’t seem to matter just how early we got there, each morning we were greeted by the pink lunchbox of doom. And each day “Little Miss Line Leader” sauntered out with even more impudence and more than once a catty “I’m first in line AGAIN” with a smirk and a hip cock. I noticed her mom leaving one morning with no sign of LMLL – so I casually (cornered) asked where her daughter was hiding. She explained that they go and buy breakfast at the school cafeteria “because it’s just so much easier than making it at home” and then she leaves her daughter to “hang out and stay warm inside the classroom until the bell rings”. Here my kids and I have been freezing our asses off (me with wet hair and flip flops, often without a sweatshirt) in the 50 degree chilly morning while she’s inside enjoying the warmth and a nice hot cup of cocoa!

Friday was the last straw. We arrived around our usual time and just as I was getting my guys out of the car, LMLL and her mom rolled up into the parking spot next to us in their mini-van. I swear their car hadn’t even come to a complete stop and that kid was flinging herself out the car door and sprinting full force to playground. Meanwhile I’m trying to grab my 2 kids, Domino’s lunchbox, his baseball hat, homework bag, library books for the classroom, and both boys’ jackets all while unhooking their booster seatbelts and juggling my cup of now cold coffee. Domino gave chase in a valiant attempt to race her to the head of the line, but damn that girl can run like the wind. Domino was devastated. Halfway down the path he realized he didn't stand a chance and he fell to the ground sobbing big wet heavy tears . When I finally (dragged) brought him to the line, LMLL had the 5 year old nerve to laugh at him, point and say “Ha! Ha! I beat you!! You’ll never be first again!!” Domino puddled in a mass of dejection again at my feet. Her mom scolded her (sorta) and (sorta) tried to get her to give up the space because we “had technically gotten to school first”, but she was having nothing to do with surrender. (In her defense, she had gotten it fair and square, but a little good sportsmanship would have been nice.) I shrugged my shoulders at the mom, tried to act like it was really no big deal (“They are all going to the same place anyway! He’ll get over it. She sure is fast!”). So off they went to celebrate their victory over a cozy breakfast indoors while we were left standing in the chilly morning air to stare at the pink lunchbox reminder of our loss.

Which leads me to this morning. We (intentionally) left 10 minutes earlier than usual and were the first to arrive at school. I had been prepping Domino all morning that if we should get there first, it was really important to not gloat, remember her feelings too, be a good friend – all the different things I could think of in trying to teach him how to win gracefully.

I am embarrassed to say just how much pleasure I got out of seeing LMLL’s face as she turned the corner to discover Domino proudly standing strong in #1. She took it about as well as Domino did when he lost out, and I did my shrug of “oh well” and the “aren’t we all lucky we all get to go to class together?” placate as I watched the mom try to pick up the pieces of her daughter’s defeat. Domino wasn’t as tactful as I had hoped, but I wonder if I was as well.

Wonder what time I’ll need to set my alarm for tomorrow…

Have I really sunken this low?! Yes I know, technically, she is there first so more power to her to be first in line. But, in my defense, I think if they were there each day first STANDING IN LINE FREEZING THEIR BUTTS OFF INSTEAD OF LEAVING A LUNCHBOX LINE HOLDER I would feel differently. I would hope I would feel differently. I seem to be awfully worked up over the supposed injustice of being 2nd in line.

On a happier note: Even though LMLL left her lunchbox in 2nd place today, many kids tried to cut in front of it when they arrived. Domino was very gallant and made sure her place (behind him) was secure. She probably doesn’t appreciate that as much as I do…


*Updated 11/2/07: This morning, we arrived first again. Domino gave up his space with a little convincing as I told him she needed a turn being first too. But, as it turns out - we're not the only ones who have been very frustrated with the "lunch box line holder". When the teacher came out today, she removed LMLL's bag from the line, told her she needed to stand at the end of the line, and said "We've already talked about this several times. If you want to be first, you need to stay in line." Amen!

(P.S. - Rascal took that photo of me this morning. I was just making a silly face in general, but it seemed to fit this post.)

Neglectful Blogger!

I'm a horribly neglectful blogger. I can no longer roll my eyes at another stale blog and wonder why it hasn't been updated in so long. I now understand - LIFE.

So much has happened since my last update - the 2 biggest being Domino starting kindergarten (excuse me, "K1" or Domino'll correct me) and the new "4".

Domino LOVES school. Loves loves loves it. I'm really glad we've chosen to send him to this alternative program. At this point, I'm not really sure how "alternative" it is, but he is thriving and that's great. He's already glommed on to a new little girl friend (not to be confused with "girlfriend" though she seems to be obsessed with "boyfriend") and I'm really happy that he's making some connections. I'm also glad he's in the K1 class - a mixture of kindergarten and first graders. He's always the big kid at home and it's good for him to be the little guy for a change and follow the example of the older kids. They all look out for each other (part of the schools community spirit) and he loves to give the big kids hugs and hi-fives when they leave for lunch every day and the K's leave for home. He is enjoying all he's learning and participating in ways that I hadn't expected. In preschool, Domino removed himself from all of the group songs/movement stuff and remained an observer - in K1 he's up and doing all the songs and movements with all the kids. He's actively taking part with the group and it's a pleasure and surprise to see this new side of him. (He also busted out a HILARIOUS "months of the year" macarena dance in the bathtub the other night while completely covered in bubbles! Tony and I haven't laughed that hard in years...)

The first week of school was a bit of a schedule challenge for us. Because the boys went to afternoon school all last year, we've become pretty laid back (aka lazy) in the mornings. Domino's school is about 40 minutes (commute traffic) away so we had to adapt to a 6:30am wake-up call for the boys (and a 6am wake-up call for me!) so we have enough time to get ready, get functional and get there without feeling rushed and stressed. I haven't been up and functioning at 6am since Rascal was a baby and even then calling it "functioning" would be very generous.

Anyhoo - on day 3 of the 6:30 wake-up call, Domino started crying when I went in to his room and turned on his light "why do you keep waking me up in the middle of the night?! It's not fair!". I couldn't help but laugh and I thought to myself "Remember your first year of life when you were awake every 114 minutes? Payback!". Another morning he got really angry that I had the nerve to turn the light on in his room and insisted that I turn it off. I refused and told him to get up and turn it off himself - thinking I'd call his bluff. He immediately got out of bed, turned the light off, crawled back into bed and told me "go away and don't come back". I'm happy to say we're all getting used to the new routine and yesterday (Saturday) Domino came bursting out of his bedroom at 8:34am in complete hysterics that "You (me) completely wasted all my time!" I had no idea what the heck was happening with him until I realized he thought it was a school day and he thought that I let him oversleep. Glad to see that he's so committed to getting to school on time!

And of course, there's another member of the household that had to adapt to the new routine. I'll just call him "4" for right now, because that is what he is. FOUR. Don't mess with him, he's 4. "What the hell is he screaming out?! Nevermind, he's 4." "What is going on, why is he freaking out?? Oh yeah, that's 4." My 4 guru Mz. Lori says the age of four brings "a lot of power struggles" and "extreme highs and lows" and holy mackerel, even though Rascal just turned 4 a few weeks ago (Happy Birthday Rascal!) he's textbook 4. I thought I'd be more equipped to handle 4, having already gone through four with Domino, but this is different. WAY different. People talk about the terrible 2's all the time, but this Rascal 4-thing is double that.

I had foolishly expected that when Domino started school, that life with just one kid at home with me would be so much easier. I'll get cleaning done, and errands run, and my paid work done, and my blog done... Ha! It's actually much more difficult than I had expected. Rascal needs constant attention these days and seems to be both clingy and fiercely independent simultaneously. I can't win. I know his little life is completely turned upside down, his constant playmate gone at school 5 mornings a week, and the aforementioned new morning wake-up routine is rough, but oh my lord I've threatened to sell that kid to the gypsies more times this past month than I care to admit.

I'm trying to figure out what things trigger him and most times, it's nothing I can pinpoint. I have learned he doesn't like to be embarrassed, and if heaven forbid it happens, be prepared for hell for the next hour at least. A few days ago while killing time in our parked car, waiting for his school to open, he accidental honked the horn. He lost his mind, screaming and crying that he needed to go home, and even when school opened he was still a train wreck and I basically dragged him in against his 4-year old will. I stood in the doorway with him at school, him clinging to my leg, me wanting to give it (and him) a good hard shake, looked at Mz. Lori and said "Hi, he's 4 today". She smiled at me knowingly, gave my arm a rub and said "Yes, I can see he's 4 today. He looks like he's 4 today". I couldn't have been happier to leave him with someone so well equipped for "4", run the opposite direction and have a reprieve for 2 and half hours. I am not equipped for 4.

Yesterday we went to a birthday party and we let Rascal ring the doorbell. He didn't hear it ring so he immediately hammered the button a good 6-7 times while Tony and I said/shouted "whoa whoa whoa!!!". GAME OVER. "4" was HELL for the next hour. We even had him seat belted in the car ready to bail on the party, but I couldn't deny him a ride on the "my little pony" Misti. And just now I had the nerve to misunderstand his instructions (he wanted both sides of the toy open, not closed as I thought) and now he's crying, stomping his feet and yelling at me... like I must have thought to myself "how can I mess with '4' and piss him off first thing in the morning?" and then I specifically chose to do the reverse of what he asked. I guess he thinks I'm mean like that.

As my dad used to say "This too shall pass". Or maybe the gypsies will pass through town instead.

The Kindergarten Countdown Begins!

It's just over one week before Domino starts kindergarten. Where has the summer gone? And more importantly - where have the last 5 years gone?!

It seems like just yesterday I was bringing home my little 8+ pound of joy - and quickly discovered that I had absolutely no idea what the heck I was doing. Somehow we both managed to survive, even though I was told Domino was "failing to thrive" while I was breastfeeding and I was instructed to wake him every 2 hours to feed him - setting up a horrible sleep pattern that continued for the better portion of his first year of life. Thankfully he morphed into a sleep champ because I'm not so sure any of us would have survived, and we certainly would not have thrived, had he continued screaming bloody murder every 114 minutes all night long.

I started out this summer terrified of what the boys and I would do all day, every day, without the MWF joys of preschool. I made charts and schedules of places to go and times they were open, lists of ideas of things to do when we got stir crazy (or just plain crazy), and I never used any of them once. The kids probably (definitely) watched more tv and played more computer games than they (probably) should have but I decided to have a "go with the flow" summer and let the kids decide what they wanted to do and followed their lead. Their lives are going to be hectic enough when the school year starts and it has been very nice to just hang out at home and hang out with each other.

Even with a lazy summer attitude, we've managed to make some really great memories. Some of my favorites of the summer....

Our weekly playdate with "school friends" every Friday afternoon at a park in Napa. It's been something for us all to look forward to each week. One week in particular, Domino's favorite friend (obsession!) showed up at the playdate unexpectedly after several weeks of missing her. Domino was so overcome with emotion when he saw her that he ran over to hug *me* and started crying "I'm just so happy!" and then he announced "I just need a few minutes to calm down". Once he got himself settled he ran over to her, gave her a big hug, and then proceeded to follow her all over the park holding her hand. Can't wait to see what the teen years have in store for us when he really experiences his first puppy love. (photo courtesy of Tracy and her shiny new iPhone!)

Another summer favorite was hitting Great America. Rascal still isn't quite tall enough to go on a lot of rides, but there's a roller coaster there that he just meets the height limit by a few hairs. As the coaster started going up (and up and up!!!) I remember thinking to myself "oh lord, what have I done?!" and I knew he would freak out. When it started to zoom down (and down and down!!!) I turned to look at him and sure enough, he looked scared to death. At the bottom of the first drop the coaster goes through a mist cloud and then brings you back up high with a sideways turn looking down at the ground below, straightens back up for another dip down, there's a huge hairpin style turn, a few more jerky hills and dips and then a screeching halt into the station lurching your whole body forward and then violently whipping it back. I was certain that would be the last roller coaster ride Rascal would take until his early 20's. But as Rascal has been known to do on more than one occasion, he surprised the heck out of me. We arrived back at the coaster station and he announced "AGAIN!". There wasn't a line for the ride so we just stayed in our seats and took another whirl. And another. And another. Can't think of a better way to be surprised by Rascal.

A recent family fun adventure was hitting the Prewitt Family Water Park in Antioch. Water slides and kiddie pools galore. Domino was the shocker that day and went down 2 fairly adventurous water slides solo. I attempted to catch him at the bottom of one slide but he came down with such a force that he sent a tidal wave over my head and we both went under water. I grabbed him by the life vest and pulled him upright as he sputtered "Mom! You drowned me!" Historically, Domino has not been eager to try new things, especially involving water. The fact that he went down a big kid water slide, a tunnel at the top with no visible landing point that dumped into a deep pool, was a huge step for him. Adding in the fact that he went under water and was still excited about going down the slide again was astounding.

There the kids also learned how to use our camera and took their first picture of Tony and me. Cheese!





This summer also had some great Discovery Kingdom days with my sister-in-law and my niece and nephew. We don't visit with each other often enough so it was great to see the kids hanging out having a fun time. Domino has usually avoided the kids play fountain area of the park but through my niece's example he enjoyed splashing and dashing along with the other kids. I think they both came out of their shells around each other.

One day a week the boys went to a summer day camp at Connolly Ranch. For 5 hours the boys played in the mud, fed chickens, brushed donkeys, milked goats, harvested fruits and vegetables, went on nature hikes and created unique crafts like crowns made out of branches and flowers, "stick"y bird feeders out of branches, sap and seed, and felted soap balls out of the resident sheep's wool. They came home as filthy as the animals at the farm. That's not the greatest photo to demonstrate the layers of muck they would come home wearing, but the sock was once upon a time white, as well as the ankle. Rascal's foot though inside the shoe was as white as could be because he had jumped into some sort of barrel of water at the beginning of the day and had been wearing those shoes soaking wet for 5 hours. His foot looked like one massive raisin!

And during those 5 glorious hours while the kids were at camp? Tony and I enjoyed going out to breakfast, catching movies and wandering aimlessly while enjoying each other's company. On the week when Tony had to work on camp day, I treated myself to a haircut and color, a manicure and a pedicure and still manged to have an hour left over to grab a Starbucks and surf the net in silence. We cherished those 5 hours together. I think we've both been longing for them for 5 years.

But in retrospect, I can see that I have also been cherishing the other 1000+ hours this summer as my last long weeks with my "first baby" before he heads off into the big world of kindergarten. He's more than ready to go and I know that he's going to enjoy it - far more than he'll enjoy hanging out with me.

I love you Domino. And as Marlin says to Nemo - "Go have an adventure!"
I'll be ready to catch you at the bottom of the slide...

The Nut Tree

I have some pretty blurry memories of The Nut Tree from my childhood. My mom could probably fill in the blanks for me, but I think we used to drive out there to visit my dad when he was working really far away. Mom would trek us all out to Vacaville in the family station wagon where Dad would meet us for a day of fun and then we'd head back home to Larkspur and he'd head back closer to his job.

If you haven't heard - The Nut Tree is back up and running as a new "family park". It's really quite cute, small and very clean. I don't recall exactly what kind of rides and things they had back in the 70's, but there is a beautifully restored train ride they claim to be the same train they had used for decades. I couldn't help but wonder if I had sat there in that train car with my family 30+ years earlier.


We had a great day, in spite of the sweltering Vacaville 104 heat. The boys loved the merry go round and all the unusual animals you could ride (a crocodile, tiger and flamingo among the more unusual).



I was thankful the speed of the merry go round was pretty tame. The one at Discovery Kingdom whips at a speed uncharacteristic for a kiddie ride, and for my motion sick tummy it's not a lot of fun. This one was very gentle and I would have gone again (and again) if the kids wanted.

We tried to feed the fish, but it appears they are very well fed and didn't even humor us with a nibble of the food we tossed in. I suppose I can't really blame them - in that Vacaville heat they probably felt like we were adding ingredients to a big pond of fish soup!

I think the highlight of the day for Domino was the "I80 Bumper Cars". Given Domino's nature to overreact to loud noises and things out of his control, I was really surprised to see he enjoyed people crashing into him. He was laughing and grinning from ear to ear - shouting out and pointing to which car to ram next. Rascal on the other hand, "was not havin' it". We quickly adapted from "bumper cars" to "avoid cars" skirting around the perimeter and avoiding all crashes whenever possible. Domino had such a blast he went on the bumper cars with Dad another 2 times while Rascal and I watched and laughed from outside.

We rounded out they day with a couple of scoops of rainbow sherbet, a splash of cold water on our heads and a mini-meltdown in the Jelly Belly Store. It's hard to be 3 when it's 104.

I don't think we'll make a habit coming here the way we do with Discovery Kingdom. It is pretty expensive ($20 a person for unlimited rides) and with the heat, we lasted just about 2 hours before we threw in the (hot and sweaty) towel. I think the park is open year round, so when Discovery Kingdom is on a break it might be something to check out when the weather is kinder to us hot weather wimps.

But oh-my-goodness - I just had that realization that hits me every few days - we won't be able to just head up to The Nut Tree any time we feel like it. Domino starts school FIVE DAYS A WEEK (!) in a matter of weeks. It's going to a whole new world for all of us.

Now that will be an exciting ride!

Welcome to our corner of cyberspace!

It seems only fitting that we'd have a computer blog for the kids. Have you seen these 2 on their computer lately?! I'm guessing that Domino can probably type about 50wpm these days. It's amazing and frightening at the same time. Rascal is more of a "hunter and pecker" - but he's that way outside the computer realm as well so it makes perfect sense.

We've never blogged before, so enjoy all of our kinks and bugs as we sort through the learning curve.
xoxo, -F