Saturday

Completely unexpectedly, Saturday turned into a perfect day.  As Jeff said, you only get maybe 10 of those in your lifetime.  I am glad I got to share mine with my family.

It started off as a regular day.   I had a nightmare about Ree's upcoming birthday party and woke up at 4:30 and was wide awake.  I tried to fall back asleep but the inevitable disasters of having seven creatures under one roof happened.  I was finally falling back asleep around 5:30 when Michael decided to get up for the day at 5:40.  I let him lay in bed and moan (he can't cry or whine like a normal child, he moans) for awhile.  By 6:00, both he and Leon were crying so I got them up.  After much drama, I got them out the door around 6:15, and we took a walk around the neighborhood.  Leon was thrilled.  Michael moaned.  I cut the walk short and headed for home.  When we got home, Michael screamed.  Apparently going home wasn't the right answer either.  When we went inside, I carried Michael straight to his high chair and started feeding him, even though the plan was to go out to breakfast.  I went ahead and fed Leon too.

Those two made enough of a ruckus that it wasn't long before Jeff and Ree were up.  As it turns out, everyone was dressed, and we were out the door before 8:00 for breakfast.  I don't know if we've ever taken the whole crew out to breakfast before aside from eating at McDonald's while traveling, but Jeff and I had watched a special on PBS last week on breakfast places, and it just seemed like the thing to do.

We went to IHOP and got there early enough that we were able to get a table right away that was big enough for our crew including two high chairs.  Ree and Leon were quite happy to look at their menus.  Ree colored on hers and Leon ate his crayons.  Michael started to throw a temper tantrum.  I feared it was just going to be a long day. Thankfully, before too long, I was able to dig a box of raisins out of the diaper bag, and those ended Michael's moaning.  I was afraid it was only a temporary fix, but miraculously, that was the last of his major meltdowns for the day.

Breakfast was fabulous, and on the way home, we discussed heading to Tospsail Island, which is about 30 miles from our house.  We had never been there before, but there was a surfing competition at the beach closest to our house, so we decided it would be a good day to explore. 

We got everyone into swimsuits and slathered with sunscreen and we headed back out the door.  Both boys fell asleep on the way to the beach, and Ree happily looked out the window.  She didn't remember driving that way before, and we drove past fields of corn and a little town she has never seen.  She happily commented on it all.  The boys were still asleep when we got to the island, so we drove the length of the island which includes three towns. They woke up as we were wrapping up our driving tour, and they actually woke up happy.  This beach has free parking, and we were able to find a spot in a lot that has a ramp, which is a necessity for getting our crew out onto the sand.

To get from the car to the beach, the boys ride in the wagon with blankets and towels piled on them, and Jeff does his best to tug them along through the sand.  I hold Ree's hand and the rest of the gear, and together we all stumble towards the water.  Thankfully, it turns out, our car was probably within 100 feet of where we plopped down, so we only had to do a minimum amount of stumbling.

There were other people around, but the beach was by no means crowded, and it was a perfect place to play. We spent two hours there before we decided to leave prior to anyone having a complete meltdown.

We attempted to eat lunch at a Dairy Queen but discovered that although their menu listed hot food, they really only sold ice cream.  This turned out to be a great thing because Jeff was driving and excited to explore, and we ended up at a great little 1950s style diner.  The place only accepted cash, and amazingly, we had enough on us to pay the bill. 

The kids fell asleep on the car ride home, and Jeff and I got a chance to just chat.  Ree had been disappointed that we didn't get dessert at the diner, especially since we were seated next to the ice cream case.  We decided to stop at her favorite ice cream place when we got back to Wilmington, and when she woke up, we were in the Boombalatti's parking lot.  She was a happy girl.

We feared that the kids would fall apart at home, but they actually had a good evening.  We had been on a crazy eating schedule (lunch at 2:30 and ice cream at 4:00), so the kids ended up eating a really late dinner.  Still, we managed to get everyone to bed by 9:00.  It was our anniversary, so Jeff and I then got to spend some time by ourselves after the kids went to bed.  Remarkably, the kids let us enjoy that time by ourselves and weren't constantly up checking in to make sure we were still there and they weren't missing anything.  Overall the day was...perfect.

How to Calm a Crying Boy

Sometimes the boys are just, well, such boys.  For instance last night there was a meltdown in the bathroom.  I have no idea why.  It's hard to keep track of these things when they happen every 15 seconds, but for whatever reason, both boys were crying hysterically and Leon was running around naked and sopping wet and I was trying to subdue him before he slipped or, more likely, ran into the corner to take care of nature's business.  At the same time I was trying to make sure Michael didn't fall because he was still in the tub and he was standing and he was agitated and he was starting to flail and he had already wiped out in the tub once yesterday and landed flat on his back.

Had it been Ree in this situation, well, she wouldn't have been running around naked and sopping wet in the first place.  Nor would she have been flailing around in the tub.  She always sat patiently in the tub and then waited for me to take her out.  She still does most of the time.  Meanwhile Leon, our little monkey boy, is always working on climbing in and out of the tub by himself.  And there was only one of Ree.  Not two crazy boys who can make a 6' x 8' bathroom (or something like that) feel like a giant cavern.  Anyway, to calm Ree down if she was that upset, I would've wrapped her in a towel, given her a big hug. If things were really bad, I would've started singing.  If things were REALLY, REALLY bad, a cookie or brownie would've been thrown into the equation.  And the world would be back to normal.

But the boys took a whole different strategy.  One involving bodily function sounds.  Yes, within .3 seconds of making a farting noise, both boys stopped flailing, stopped crying, and started giggling.  Within 2 seconds, they had joined in the fun.  Several minutes later, they were still growing strong, and Michael realized that he could also make vomiting noises.  And he thought those were hilarious!

Five minutes, and approximately 857 nasty noises later, everyone was safely dressed and out of the tub.  Phew.

Climbing Monkeys

We joke that my husband's primary job is making sure none of the kids need to go to the hospital.  However, it's not quite so funny now that doing so is getting exponentially harder.  These days the wonder twins are on a suicide mission.  Kamikaaaaazeeeeeee!

They have started climbing.  They climb everything.  Over the weekend I found Leon jumping on the toilet one day and standing on a large pile of toys to reach the top shelf of his bookcase on the other.   So, apparently now, not only can we not put things on bottom shelves, we cannot put them on top shelves either!  In the sunroom, we have a dresser filled with craft supplies.  It contains both Ree's nontoxic supplies as well as my paint, glue, and other really bad stuff.  Jeff pushed the kids' train table in front of the dresser so the boys couldn't get to the craft supplies.  Yesterday Jeff found Leon standing on the train table.  Meanwhile, Michael was sitting on top of the dresser, handing down all the "good" stuff.  Last night the boys were playing chicken on the futon.  Loser was somersaulting off the futon into a large pile of stuffed animals on the hard tile floors.  Love them!

I think it might be time to color my hair again.

Oh, and as though the climbing was bad enough, Leon has also started sneaking things.  The other day he ran by me all twisted sideways with something in his arms.  The little stinkpot had swiped the tissues from my bathroom (which again required standing on the toilet seat, sigh) and was trying to get them to his room where he could gleefully remove all the tissues from the box. 

I must find a way to get them to use their powers for good and not evil!

Fiesta, Fiesta

We've recently started doing rounds of the birthday party circuit.  I thought we were the only freaks with a three-year-old who had never been to a birthday party, but at the first party we attended, another shell-shocked parent confirmed her family was in the same boat.  She and I actually bonded a lot at that party because, well, birthday parties are not the events we remember.

The first party we attended was for a little girl in Ree's preschool class who was turning three, and it was just an odd experience.  It was at Chuck E. Cheese, and it turns out our Chuck E. Cheese has very few activities for the preschool crowd.  Apparently, the days of the giant ball pit are over.  Keeping Ree entertained was a chore, which just seems silly.  The kids spent no time together, all running off in different directions with their families.  And it was a family event.  Although I took Ree by myself, I was the only single parent.  Everyone else arrived with their entire family for the party.  As though Chuck E. Cheese as the theme wasn't enough, the mom had gone overboard with a Little Mermaid theme, and had brought her own table cloths, balloons, and decorations.  The party favors were crazy.  The mom had beach pails professionally personalized and filled them with beach and Little Mermaid gear.  The party started at 2:00, and we were on time figuring the party would be pretty structured.  We actually arrived just before the birthday girl and her family, who had all that setting up to do.  Given that they weren't set up and no other guests arrived until almost 2:30, I thought we had the wrong time, and I apologized profusely to the little girl's grandparents.  Nope, turns out everyone else was just late.  Because Chuck E. Cheese still booted everyone out of the birthday area at 3:30, this resulted in the birthday girl not opening presents.  Ree was sad about this.  But she was even more sad by the fact that we lost one of the lollipops from her beach pail.  Yes, that was her take away from this party.  We lost the lollipop.

But I learned from this party.  For everyone one child you invite, expect four guests.  Don't expect people to show up on time.  And never lose the lollipop!

The next party, also for a little girl in Ree's preschool class, was a little more traditional.  A little more.  It was a pool party at her house, and the parents had set up a slew of kiddie pools and slip-and-slides in their backyard.  The food was kid-friendly trays from Chick-Fil-A and a friend had made the birthday cake and some extra cupcakes.  However, invites still went out to their 60 closest friends via Evite, and given the size of the party, they tactfully requested no gifts.  (Ree was initially disappointed that we did not get to shop for a present.)  When I arrived, I was told where the keg was for the parents, and the kids were all sent outside to go crazy in the water.  I sat with the other parents for awhile, but poor Ree was dying out in the yard.  Ree likes structure and organized activities and knowing what's going on, and running around jumping in and out of pools was not her style.  She wouldn't even try to interact with the other kids.  She and I ended up hanging out on the deck for awhile, and the birthday girl actually ended up joining us.  She was a little overwhelmed too.  The girls ate dinner with me, and I did the best I could to distract them from the parents' neighbors who were doing shots of Jack in the kitchen.  After dinner and the shots, it was time for birthday cake.  Ree dutifully ran up for a slice along with the other kids, but in the mayhem, the lady handing out cake never looked down and saw her.  She kept passing slices over Ree's head to the kids behind her in line.  I intervened, got a dirty look, and Ree and I found a quiet spot on the play room to eat.  Then she and I quietly snuck off.  This party had not been our scene.

I'm not sure what I learned from this party.  It mostly made me sad because Ree had no fun and I never saw her playing with any other kids.  I was starting to really worry about her.

Then, last weekend, we went to a party for a coworker's son who was turning one.  This party at least made sense to me.  It was mostly adults, but the party was for a twelve-month-old whose parents work alternating schedules to keep him out of childcare.  The birthday boy doesn't exactly have a wide social network.  The mom bought party hats and blowers for the kids who were in attendance, and the party was held at a park in a shelter that was next to a playground and a baseball field.  The food was simple - burgers, hotdogs, chips, fruit, and pasta salad.  Dessert was a big, ooey-gooey cake from Costco.  Ree not only got to shop for a birthday present, she got to help open presents.  The mom put Ree and another four-year-old girl in charge of bringing her the gifts and ripping them open.  And Ree and this little girl bonded.  They had SO much fun together.  They ran around on the playground together, then they ate dinner together, then they practiced ballet on the baseball fields together.  We ended up staying an hour and a half longer than planned and only left because Michael was teething and miserable.  (The whole family did go to this party.)  We had a really good time.

The four-year-old girl had a brother who was nine, and he pretty much summed up my thoughts on birthday parties.  He said, "This party is okay, but I like parties with games."  Yeah, me too.

GOOOOOOOOL!

It is World Cup time again.  For those of you not in the know, the World Cup is played every four years, and during the World Cup, there are three soccer matches daily for a month.  Of all the sporting events that suck my husband away from me, this is one of the least annoying.  First of all, it only happens every four years.  Secondly, it will always hold a somewhat dear place in my heart because the first time I watched the World Cup was in the summer of '98, when I was in London and I could watch the games from the pub at our school that accepted our dining hall meal cards as payment for pints. 

My husband, of course, is watching all the matches every day.  Because the games are at 7:30 a.m., 10:00 a.m., and 2:30 p.m., Ree sees it as a big nuisance that prevents her from watching reruns on PBS Kids.  Leon sees it as background noise.  But Michael, our little TV junkie, thinks this is the best thing ever.  He regularly plops down to watch the matches.  He occasionally gets inspired by the TV, gets out his soccer ball, and starts kicking it around the house.  Thankfully, even he eventually wanders off to play.  Due to only having very basic cable, we only get the games on Univision, which means that in addition to the crazy buzzing noise from the vuvuzelas, we get Spanish commentary.  And no one in our house is fluent in Spanish.  But one word translates well.  GOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL!  Whenever someone scores, no matter where he is in the house, Michael comes running to watch the replay of the goal.  And then Michael starts running in circles screaming GOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLL! too. 

Our Little Math Nerd, Part II and other Kid Craziness

This is a total brag and is mostly for the grandparents.  So if you don't want to hear me droning on about how sometimes my kids actually do cute and amazing things, stop reading!

Back in those long ago days when Ree was an only child (how could that have only been 18 months ago?  It feels like an eternity!), we made it a point to make sure she was intellectually stimulated. We did the things parents were supposed to do.  We limited TV, we read books, we took her on lots of adventures.  And then the boys were born.  And all of those things stopped.  So not only was she suddenly getting lots of TV, fewer books, and no adventures, the boys were getting none of the good things she had.

Over the past few months, things have started returning to "normal" and we have started doing some of those things again, but there's always that nagging feeling that we are letting Ree down and setting the boys up for failure. Which is why I'm always so surprised when the kids show signs that they are actually learning and thinking.

Leon chatters constantly.  He is always talking.  When he is upset, the chatter continues while his body shakes and he waves his little fist in the air.  Although we occasionally recognize words coming out of his mouth, we are convinced that he is primarily speaking Ukrainian.  It must be genetic.  When he is angry, we know he is cussing like a little Cossack. 

But Michael doesn't say nearly as much.  We do think it relates to his teething agony - it hurts his mouth too much to make certain sounds.  Consequently, it's easy to dismiss him as the one who isn't learning as much, but he really is absorbing things.  Last week he and I sat down with a book about shapes.  A different shape is featured on each page and the book has a wheel you turn with shapes on it.  You are supposed to turn the wheel to match the shape on the wheel to the shape on the page.  Without any prompting, Michael did it correctly for three pages in a row.  Apparently Ree isn't the only one getting math concepts.

In addition to all of his chatter, Leon makes me smile with his need to take care of his "little" brother Michael.  If Michael is upset, Leon gives him a toy to play with (unless, of course, Michael is upset because Leon stole his toy, which happens frequently).  When my parents were visiting, my mom asked Leon if he wanted more juice.  He handed my mom his sippy cup, then went over to Michael, ripped Michael's sippy cup out of his hands, and took it to my mom.  (His execution isn't too great, but at least his heart is in the right place.)  Yesterday as the boys were getting up from naps, I got Michael out of his crib first and sat him on the floor.  He started crying.  I tuned him out and went to get Leon.  Leon wouldn't get out of his crib.  He just kept pointing at Michael's crib.  Finally I realized that Leon wanted me to give Michael his blanket to calm him down.

The funniest care taking moment, though, was in the bathtub on Saturday night.  Leon decided to wash Michael's hair.  He definitely didn't want to pour water on Michael.  He had a cup of water in his hand and was pointing at the shampoo.  He was going to take care of him.  Fortunately, I was able to intervene before he started pouring water on Michael.

Leon miraculously also shows signs of intellectual intelligence.  Ree has foam letters she plays with in the tub, and the boys were playing with them the other night.  Leon was sorting through them, and as he showed them to me he kept saying, "This?  This? This?" so that I would identify the letters.  In the middle of the "this"es he suddenly said, "K,"  and impressively, it was the letter K.  The "This? This? This?" continued, and then he said, "B!" and it was the letter B.  I guess all those ABC books are good for something.

As impressed as I was by Leon's letter recognition, Ree's reading skills always floor me.  It was crazy enough to me when she read me the words on a color-by-number coloring page last winter.  Then we started noticing that she knew sight words.  On Saturday, I was at the grocery store with the three kids by myself.  They were all riding in one of those giant carts that actually has seat belts for three kids.  Leon was having a bad day, and I had to pick him up, so I handed Ree my list to hold while I held Leon and pushed the cart.  That's when she started reading me the list.  It sounded like she was reading it in order, but that seemed nuts, so I asked if she was reading or just guessing words.  She said she was reading, and then she pointed to the words while she read it again.  Alright then. Not only is she reading, she can read my chicken scratch print on a grocery list.

My Little Math Nerds, Part I

Ree is my daughter.  She may be a bit inept socially, but she's great at math.

A few weeks ago, she came to me and asked why a square and rectangle both have four sides but look different.  What a fabulous observation!  I know I was not that smart at that age.  (I'm not that smart now.)  And so I told her all about quadrilaterals. She will not be caught off guard in middle school (or first grade or wherever they teach that term now.)

Yesterday, while she was eating lunch and I was cleaning the kitchen, we had the following conversation.

Ree: Mom, what do you call a shape with 7 sides?  Dad doesn't know.
Me: It's a septagon.  (Hoping that was right.) 
Ree: Daaaad!  It's a SEPTAGON! (duh)

Jeff was a bit perplexed since they had not been having this conversation recently.

So I then added that a nonagon has 9 sides and a decagon has 10.  I didn't even bother mentioning pentagons, hexagons, and octagons, since that's, like, baby stuff.

Ree immediately jumps in and says, "A star has 10 sides."

It was my turn to be perplexed, so she repeated herself.

After I thought about it, all I could say was, "Yup.  A star has 10 sides.  It's a decagon."

She was satisfied and resumed eating her macaroni and cheese.