Skater Boy

The Boy's school has a roller skating party practically every month. Yes, I know you're jealous, wishing you, too, could spend two hours on a Monday evening sitting on the same red carpeted mushroom benches that have been there since "Grease" was a new hit movie, watching shaggy-haired sweaty 12-year old boys try to do skateboarding tricks on their inline skates.

Green with envy - I see you.

But the Boy, who begged for rollerblades last year and dutifully practiced, can really skate by himself. He hardly falls, and he gets right back up.

And they play YMCA, Journey, Queen, and tonight - Corey Hart songs. (Mom, remember taking me to the concert in 8th grade? Thanks again)
So basically, I love it, except for the newer music, which scares me. Also, the big kids scare me. I seriously have to avert my eyes so that I don't imagine The Boy's face under one of those shaggy greasy hairdos, with those saggy pants and "I wish I was a real tough guy" look. Don't even get me started on the 3rd grade girls with the tight jeans and inappropriate t-shirts.

I wish I had pictures, but I would definitely be "that mom who embarrasses her kid" if I took any photos. Who am I kidding, I'm going to be her anyway. Next month - PHOTOS!

Part II of Skater Boy will deal with the slight heartbreak I experience watching him try to navigate sliding onto the bench from a full skate, to keep up with a faster 1st grade friend, and being disappointed that most of his friends weren't there tonight because they had basketball practice. The basketball team that we decided NOT to have him join.

Adding to the list

Presenting #24 on the list of
"There's just something slightly wrong about a 2 1/2 year old saying...."

"I like to move it, move it!" (complete with hip shaking) Yes, she really says it...

If you don't follow the latest over-hyped animated movie press, I offer you...
Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa.

We never saw the first Madagascar movie, but in a desperate, futile attempt to avoid the Plague of 1,000,000 Questions, it's waiting for us at the library. We'd like to get the story straight with The Boy before we find ourselves in the movie theater woefully unprepared for the onslaught of questions..

Never underestimate the power of a catchy tune and McDonald's Happy Meal Toys.

I have to admit it's catchy.

P.S. I already looked up the lyrics, and I think it's fairly harmless. I think there's a big hippo in the movie, and there's supposed to be some message about how she loves herself just how she is. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't some REALLY nasty song with just a catchy chorus.

Guilty lists

I was, okay, I'll admit it, COMPULSIVE about keeping lists of milestones when The Boy was a baby. His first words, journal entries about what he was doing every single month. (Note to self: get a life!!!)

And as a result, he's a completely typical first baby who thinks the world revolves around him.

But I never should have done the lists, because I should have known I could never keep them up with Baby #2.
I just found, in the pile o'crap that is my office, a list of words that I was keeping as Bitty Girl's "latest," I think from about April-Sept 2008. Of course it's not dated, and she says so much more now, so I really have no idea what time period it covers. Something around 2 years old..

Here it is:

• own juice!
• NOW
• pick
• Audee (saying her name)
• please
• right here
• thank you
• sorry
• I lub you (love you)
• healthy lunch
• cookie after dinner (this was proudly her first 3 word sentence, I think)
• popcorn (pop-o-door)
• sandwich (tranwich)
• lollipop (pop or loblie)

I guess I should be happy that I wrote anything down?? I tell myself that she'll be a better person for it--better adjusted, more adaptable. Living out of the glare of the Mommy Microscope has to have some benefits, right? Just say yes.

Moments like these

make it all worthwhile.

By moments like these, I mean when I sneak into her room while she's napping because I have to wake her up to go pick up her brother at school, and she looks so heartbreakingly beautiful that I have to run and get the camera. Then when I take a few pictures, even the flash doesn't wake her up, and I feel guilty about interrupting her nap.

But look at her red cheeks, and the sweet way she's snuggling with her baby. The big purple thing is my pillow. She has been doing this blanket folding thing lately to make herself a "pullow" but she wasn't happy with my folding, so I offered my real pillow. She loved it, and promptly fell asleep. The baby has a blanket and a "pullow" too.

Such a second baby - always a good sport when I have to wake her up, and doesn't even fuss when we have to get right in the car. Thank goodness someone in our family can go with the flow, because most of us are not known for that quality.

Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better.

I wish today was one of those days where I was glad The Boy had another day off school, so we could spend some quality time together.

But it wasn't. Instead it was a day where the highlights consisted of the Kids Zone at the YMCA and a few good block-building sessions, and the lowlights featured me losing my temper more than once, several timeouts for both kids, and one embarrassing moment of quiet defiance right at the YMCA exit gate in front of the staff and his friend's grandparents.

So I made pumpkin chocolate chip bread after the kids went to bed (a mix from Trader Joe's, don't get too excited..) and I felt slightly better. At least it smells good so far.


During one of the brief peaceful interludes of sibling harmony today, Bitty Girl did have a funny moment.
I came upon a huge explosion of toys in the dining room corner and asked her to clean it up. She said, "It's for Nanny!" Quick thinking Mama said, "Let's take a picture, send it to Nanny, and then you can clean it up!"

Mess for Nanny


In another harmonious moment, her big brother actually helped clean it up.
Let's hear it for the weekend--our first with no soccer games since August!

Why I signed on for this crazy ride

So it's Mother's Day. Since I became a mother, I've struggled with the guilty feeling that the perfect Mother's Day gift would really be a day all by myself. And then I find myself feeling irritated that it's just a typical day with extra food, and the kids are still whiny and require a lot of attention. Why did I expect more?

So this year I tried to have lower expectation. Be more zen about it, embrace the craziness, just focus on how lucky we are. And I was still irritated, they were still whiny, alternating with sweet and delightful, and I'm exhausted like usual.

But I know I'm lucky.
Bitty Girl ate fried chicken, bacon, and deep fried french toast. Oh, and some strawberries. All delicious, by the way. Our arteries will thank us later.

Happy Chicken Leg Day, I mean, Mother's Day!


Ok, maybe I should explain that we ate brunch at a family-owned restaurant near the in-laws, where P. grew up. It's serious food--deep fried, lots of meat and lots of mayo. It used to be just a bar, and they had this annual Christmas Eve open house where they served free food as a way for saying thank you to the customers. A few years ago they opened a restaurant, gave up the Christmas Eve thing, but still make a heck of a brunch. Think bacon, sausage, biscuits and gravy, fried chicken (see photo), deep fried french toast, and a dessert counter piled with brownies, cheesecake, and cookies. Sigh... I think I gained five pounds just writing that sentence.

Then the cousins did a little snuggling. Yes, they're watching tv, but they really did play well together. And we felt lucky to be with family.


So in spite of the whining and the constant face wiping and perma-exhaustion, I'm thankful. My babies are healthy and we have everything we need--wonderful family, jobs, good health, good friends, and deep fried french toast. Yum.
Happy Mother's Day!