The other day, David gently asked me the following question:
"Caroline is starting to sport a little mullet, don't you think? What should we do about that?"
And I replied: "What mullet? I see no mullet."
I will admit, on rare occasions, but only from certain angles, you can sometimes spot the telltale
Business in the front
Party in the back
signs of a mullet. But that's just when the light catches her hair the wrong way. We are nowhere NEAR the point at which we have to consider taking my baby, my LAST BABY, to the hair butcher to get shorn of the locks that were on her head on the day she was born, are we? No, I didn't think so.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sunday, February 15, 2009
"We don't eat paint. Yucky." and other things I never thought I'd say
We had a fun-filled, spring-like weekend around here. Jacob ran in the Mercedes Kids' Marathon on Saturday morning. It is a really fun event. The program is run by the local elementary schools in conjunction with the Mercedes Marathon. The kids train by running a total of 26.2 miles -- they run most of them in gym class over the course of the fall and winter, and then complete the final mile at the Kids' Marathon, which is held the day before the full Mercedes Marathon.
David ran with Jacob (this is the last year he gets to run with a parent -- once he is a big second grader, he will run on his own). Here they are speeding by:
And after the race:
And with their goldfish-eating cheering section:
Saturday was also Valentine's Day, of course. It is really hard to think of Valentine's Day gifts for David -- there are only so many monogrammed locket cuff links that one man can wear. So this year, we decided to be practical and get David what he really needs: one six pack of beer per child who lives in the house. The good stuff, of course -- only the best for my Valentine. Here are Jacob and Elizabeth dancing to the musical greeting card that accompanied the beer:
We also did some art projects. You know, this is definitely one area of parenting that I romanticized before having kids -- "we'll do arts & crafts around the kitchen table, it'll be great!" -- but the reality is that I am just not an arts & crafts mom, and I will look for any excuse to avoid breaking out the paint. It reminds me of a story my law school roommate Jenny (miss you, babe!) used to tell about a friend of hers who remembers complaining to her mother: "Katie's mother does crafts with her. How come you don't do crafts with me?" And this girl's mother replied "Don't worry, Mommy does shopping, which you will appreciate much more someday." That mother and I would be friends. Reason #1,567 why I love preschool -- the kids can spend hours each week creating masterpieces in a variety of media -- puff paint, clay, pipe cleaners, pom pom balls-- and I do not have to clean it up. Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy many of the domestic arts with my children; we bake together regularly, for example, and they unfold the laundry that I fold. But craft projects are just not my thing. I have three kids and I have tried MANY times to become a craft-loving mom. I even subscribe to Family Fun magazine, which gives you more things to do with egg cartons and Floam than MacGyver can do with duct tape and paper clips. It's just not happening. It's me, not the crafts.
But Elizabeth asked me if she could paint on Saturday, and I said, "sure, you can draw!" But she saw right through that and said "no! I want to PAINT." My instinct in this situation is always "hell, no!" but every once in a while I do try to stop that Pavlovian reaction and say yes. So I said yes, got out the paint, filled up the cups of water, and sat Caroline and Elizabeth at the table in the basement:
Caroline's teachers tell me that she LOVES to paint. They have never said anything about her eating paint, so I wasn't really prepared for what was to come.
Innocent beginnings:
She was painting with PLAIN WATER -- it was a craft-hating mom's dream come true! But eventually she found the paint.
Aaaaand ate some paint:
I always figure that kids will take one bite of something like dirt (we ate that yesterday too) or paint, realize it is not particularly tasty, and then stop. But no, Caroline kept going back to that paint the way that I keep going back to that bowl of queso at La Paz. Once I realized that she was not going to stop on her own, I intervened. I did not photograph the scene in which I took the paintbrush away from her and took her upstairs to wash out her mouth -- because really, you all know what a temper tantrum looks like.
I hope that everyone had a Happy Valentine's Day!
David ran with Jacob (this is the last year he gets to run with a parent -- once he is a big second grader, he will run on his own). Here they are speeding by:
And after the race:
And with their goldfish-eating cheering section:
Saturday was also Valentine's Day, of course. It is really hard to think of Valentine's Day gifts for David -- there are only so many monogrammed locket cuff links that one man can wear. So this year, we decided to be practical and get David what he really needs: one six pack of beer per child who lives in the house. The good stuff, of course -- only the best for my Valentine. Here are Jacob and Elizabeth dancing to the musical greeting card that accompanied the beer:
We also did some art projects. You know, this is definitely one area of parenting that I romanticized before having kids -- "we'll do arts & crafts around the kitchen table, it'll be great!" -- but the reality is that I am just not an arts & crafts mom, and I will look for any excuse to avoid breaking out the paint. It reminds me of a story my law school roommate Jenny (miss you, babe!) used to tell about a friend of hers who remembers complaining to her mother: "Katie's mother does crafts with her. How come you don't do crafts with me?" And this girl's mother replied "Don't worry, Mommy does shopping, which you will appreciate much more someday." That mother and I would be friends. Reason #1,567 why I love preschool -- the kids can spend hours each week creating masterpieces in a variety of media -- puff paint, clay, pipe cleaners, pom pom balls-- and I do not have to clean it up. Don't get me wrong -- I enjoy many of the domestic arts with my children; we bake together regularly, for example, and they unfold the laundry that I fold. But craft projects are just not my thing. I have three kids and I have tried MANY times to become a craft-loving mom. I even subscribe to Family Fun magazine, which gives you more things to do with egg cartons and Floam than MacGyver can do with duct tape and paper clips. It's just not happening. It's me, not the crafts.
But Elizabeth asked me if she could paint on Saturday, and I said, "sure, you can draw!" But she saw right through that and said "no! I want to PAINT." My instinct in this situation is always "hell, no!" but every once in a while I do try to stop that Pavlovian reaction and say yes. So I said yes, got out the paint, filled up the cups of water, and sat Caroline and Elizabeth at the table in the basement:
Caroline's teachers tell me that she LOVES to paint. They have never said anything about her eating paint, so I wasn't really prepared for what was to come.
Innocent beginnings:
She was painting with PLAIN WATER -- it was a craft-hating mom's dream come true! But eventually she found the paint.
Aaaaand ate some paint:
I always figure that kids will take one bite of something like dirt (we ate that yesterday too) or paint, realize it is not particularly tasty, and then stop. But no, Caroline kept going back to that paint the way that I keep going back to that bowl of queso at La Paz. Once I realized that she was not going to stop on her own, I intervened. I did not photograph the scene in which I took the paintbrush away from her and took her upstairs to wash out her mouth -- because really, you all know what a temper tantrum looks like.
I hope that everyone had a Happy Valentine's Day!
Friday, February 6, 2009
One year olds: I could eat 'em up.
Of course I love my children at every age, and there are nice things about all of the various stages. But I've got to admit, I've got it really bad for one year olds. As adorable as infants are, I find toddlers to be particularly edible. They are like little upright babies, but they've got the added personality dimensions that come with full mobility and quasi-talking.
They still sleep with their little bottoms in the air:
They are curious about everything, like "what will happen if I stick my mouth under this running bath water?"
They "talk." You don't know what they are saying, but they do, and they are very earnest about it. Caroline and I had the following conversation the other day:
Me: Oh Caroline! Look! It's a PUPPY!! Can you say puppy? Pup-py. Pup-py.
Caroline: Woof.
Me: Ooooooooh, that's so CLOSE, sweetie!!! You so smart!
They attack their food with gusto:
And view with suspicion anybody who seems to be getting too close to their cookie:
I know many people mourn the end of the baby months, but what can I say -- the baby months don't tend to go so hot for us. But somebody better remember to bring mama a few boxes of Kleenex on Caroline's second birthday.
They still sleep with their little bottoms in the air:
They are curious about everything, like "what will happen if I stick my mouth under this running bath water?"
They "talk." You don't know what they are saying, but they do, and they are very earnest about it. Caroline and I had the following conversation the other day:
Me: Oh Caroline! Look! It's a PUPPY!! Can you say puppy? Pup-py. Pup-py.
Caroline: Woof.
Me: Ooooooooh, that's so CLOSE, sweetie!!! You so smart!
They attack their food with gusto:
And view with suspicion anybody who seems to be getting too close to their cookie:
I know many people mourn the end of the baby months, but what can I say -- the baby months don't tend to go so hot for us. But somebody better remember to bring mama a few boxes of Kleenex on Caroline's second birthday.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
David Beckham has a lucky ass. Discuss.
I was in the middle of an excrutiatingly boring afternoon at work last week when my great and ever-alert friend Maureen sent around this news bit. Thank you for the pick-me-up, MSB!! Apparently Goldenbuns is the new good luck charm for AC Milan. Isn't it interesting that in the entire universe of the things that could be touched for good luck, the team chose Becks' ass? I'm just sayin'.
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