Okay, it's been a whopper of a "My Kids are Driving Me Crazy" day (I made a third child cry today! How evil am I to expect a preschooler to carry his own sweatshirt?!?! Oh, the tragedy!), but I feel like I've been really negative on the blog lately, so I want to switch gears here and write something positive for a change.
From the blog Get Rich Slowly, I found an interesting meme: make a list of 101 things to accomplish in 1001 days (roughly 2.75 years), and try to achieve them. I've been mulling it over in my mind for the last couple of days, trying to decide if I really feel ambitious enough to take on a challenge like this -- it'll be hard enough to even think of 101 goals in the first place, much less actually complete all of them! But then I thought, it's so rare these days that I actually challenge myself (instead of being challenged, in both good and bad ways, by various small children) -- why not give it a try? Worst case scenario: I don't finish everything (though I will surely finish some things. I've got almost three years, after all). Best case scenario: I accomplish 101 things! And I think it would be really exciting if I could do that.
I don't have a whole list worked out yet, but I'll post it in sections as I think of things. They won't all be monumental challenges; some will likely be pretty mundane. Some will be short term, some will be long term, some will be difficult, some will be easy. We'll see what I can do. To begin with, here are my first 10 goals.
1. I will buy suits for the boys for my sister's wedding. (This will be done by the end of May, or I'll be in trouble.)
2. I will toilet train Evan. (Three years should be enough time, no?)
3. I will knit another Christmas stocking, so my boys can each have one. (To be completed before Christmas 2007.)
4. I will bake a cheesecake. (I have never done this, even though I love cheesecake. I've just never had an occasion.)
5. I will clean out the basement (and the rest of the house) and either sell our things at a yard sale, donate things to James' nursery school's garage sale, donate to the Salvation Army, or throw away the worst of it. (Hopefully in the next couple of months.)
6. I will grow tomatoes and eat them. (And hopefully other delicious things, too, once I have the space.)
7. I will move out of our current apartment to go live somewhere else. (Lack of details aside, this will hopefully happen in 2007.)
8. I will register James for kindergarten. (In April, once we find out about extending our lease here.)
9. I will play in a frisbee league this spring and summer (and fall if we still live here then). (I will do this even though it scares me because I am ridiculously out of shape.)
10. I will take my children camping this summer.
Anyone want to try it with me? Anyone have any suggestions for things you think I should try to do?
28 March 2007
101 things in 1001 days (part one)
what does it take to get fired from this job?
The events of this morning have made it clear to me that, if this were a paying job, I'd have either quit or been fired by now, because I am really not that good at this stay-at-home parenting thing.
This morning, I'm babysitting for a friend's son while James is at school. Currently my baby is on the floor screaming for orange juice, because he's not interested in the water I'm offering him. The only reason that the boy I'm sitting for is no longer crying is because I turned on the TV to shut the kids up. I make children cry! I make children cry because I will not give them orange juice when they turn up their noses at the drink I've already gotten them, and because I will not return them to their mothers an hour before the scheduled time. I have never heard so much crying! The kid I'm sitting for has a pair of lungs to rival Evan's, and that's saying something.
Who let me be a stay-at-home parent, anyway? I'm not qualified. My house is constantly a mess; my five-year-old is still not registered for kindergarten (I got the paperwork in December); I cannot for the life of me convince my toddler to eat a single vegetable, even those he once loved; I bribe children with video games and television; and now, this morning, I had two children, one of whom is not even mine, screaming at me for different reasons, while the other mothers on the playground looked on with pitying smiles.
It has been a rough morning.
27 March 2007
randomness
I think I forgot to mention that I survived as a single parent last week while Greg was out of town. I mean, obviously I survived. But it actually went a lot more smoothly than it ever has before. I can't decide if it's because my kids are getting better, or I'm getting better. Probably a little bit of both. I think some of the credit should also be given to the video games I rented just for the occasion. I don't like my kids to play a lot of video or computer games -- I think I'm more permissive about it than other parents we know, but less permissive than Greg -- but sometimes, when you know you have four full days ahead of you of full-time, solo parenting, letting your Star Wars-obsessed kids geek out to a Star Wars Legos video game (which is the second-cutest video game ever made, right behind Viva Pinatas) seems like a necessary thing to do. Besides, the games are going back to the store this afternoon, so I can return to my stinginess about child gaming and not feel so guilty.
In other news, yesterday the friendly UPS man delivered the bridesmaid's dress I'll be wearing in my sister's wedding in May. I was excited to get the package, but then dismayed and disappointed to take it out of the box and try it on, because it's at least two sizes too big. I wasn't expecting it to be perfect, because we ordered the dresses online without being fitted for them, and I am relieved that it doesn't make me look fat, as I had feared it would, but according to the sizing of this dress, someone with my waist size (which nearly fits) should have breasts each the size of her own head (and to say that I don't is probably the biggest understatement I've ever written). Ah, but now I have alterations to look forward to. Although, maybe I should just forget about continuing to lose my baby weight (I know he's almost two. I'm lazy!) and just try to grow into this monstrosity of a dress! Or... not. Not really.
My boys were excited about the dress delivery as well, not because they care about bridesmaid's dresses, but because it came in a box! Can you believe it?!?! A BOX! A box that's big enough for only one of them to sit in at a time and thus has provoked several screaming matches about whose turn it is! To sit! In the BOX! Oh, sorry, did I say box? I meant spaceship.
Okay, I didn't really have much to say today, but I thought that I've been neglecting the blog enough lately, so a short and mostly pointless update will have to do.
26 March 2007
signs of spring
Of course, there's always the possibility of a surprise April (or even May) snowstorm (or ice storm), but I'm counting on global warming to carry us straight through to summer this year, with no setbacks. I am so ready for spring to be here.
16 March 2007
friday photo
Have a good weekend!
13 March 2007
happy birthday to greg
Yesterday was Greg's birthday. He's 28 now, which makes him thismuch closer to being Old. I didn't write anything yesterday, because I spent too much time thinking about what I could possibly write. How can words accurately describe a man who is equal parts genius and ridiculous; who is the best father to my sons I could have ever hoped for; who makes me laugh every day, even when I'm crying; who builds models of solar panels out of Legos; who can outcook me every time without so much as glancing at a recipe; who mended the lining on his childhood baby blanket for James to have; who sings and dances and invents and creates and cooks and tells stories and otherwise makes life so much fun?
Characteristically, I will take the lazy way out -- but it's no less true for not being wordy. All I can think to say is that there's no one else with whom I'd rather be sharing my life and raising my children, no one else with whom I'd rather spend time, no one else whom I trust more in this world. We've been together six and a half years and it's never been boring. I love him, and I'm thankful to have him in my life, and now I will present photographic evidence to demonstrate things I love about Greg:
Happy birthday, Greg. :)
09 March 2007
friday photos
All Evan this week, because I haven't taken any photos of James in a while. Also, I feel a little guilty complaining so much about Evan lately that I thought I should balance it out with a little positive attention, because he is very cute when he's not being a terror.
This photo is fuzzy, but I had to share it because he looks like a vampire and it cracks me up:
The next two photos show what happens when a baby wakes up at the crack of dawn every day -- he falls asleep mid-morning in random places and doesn't wake up again...
...even if you transport him from the car to the house and lay him on the stairs to remove his outdoor clothes:
Now I'm wondering whether I can really keep this up as a regular feature, because these photos are kind of boring. Maybe I should just make my children do more ridiculous things for the sake of cute photos for the blog.
07 March 2007
my children are driving me insane
Okay, I really don't want this to turn into the "My Children Are Driving Me Insane" blog, but it's hard to avoid it on the days when you would sell your children on the black market for enough cash to get a full body massage and a meal cooked by someone else. Someday, I will return to writing Posts With Substance, but today is not that day. Today, my children are driving me insane.
To be fair, I should specify that it is Evan driving me insane. I do get annoyed with James crying that Evan is hitting him or biting him, but Evan is ultimately the source of those problems. And Evan... what can I really say that will fully impress upon my readers the horrors of living with a toddler deep in the throes of the terrible twos, one who is prone to screaming, hitting and biting, one who wakes at ungoldy hours of the morning, piercing the darkness with banshee-like wails?
Most mornings we have the first screaming fit before 8am. What makes him scream? Well, your guess is as good as mine. It changes day to day. For example, today he asked me for a banana. Okay, I said, and got him a banana. Then: "NOOO!!! I want baby banana!" Okay, I said, and found the smallest banana I could find. "This baby banana?" "NOOO!!! I want baby banana!!!" Okay, I said, and asked him to show me which was the baby banana. At this he threw his head back and started crying. "NOOO!!! I want magic baby!"
Whatever that means.
Then there are the times he starts screaming and crying for no reason, at least no reason you can determine. At least three times a day we have the following conversation:
Evan: WAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!
Me: Evan, what's wrong?
Evan: I cryin'.
Me: Why are you crying?
Evan: I sad.
Me: Why are you sad?
Evan: I cryin'.
Me: Why are you crying?
Evan: I sad.
Etcetera, etcetera.
Today I'm far more tired than usual, due to being jolted into consciousness before 7am by lots of shrieking. Evan is clearly overtired as well, and when the two of us are both overtired it does not make for a pleasant day for anyone. James was so easy in this regard -- always so good-natured -- that I'm still figuring out how to deal with a child who is so much more like myself (ie, moody and cranky). So please indulge my self-pitying complaining post -- if you've read this far I congratulate you -- and one day we will return to our regularly scheduled blogging, when I will write about interesting things.
06 March 2007
i'm so spoiled
Yesterday, James went home from nursery school with a friend of his to play for the afternoon, and this afternoon, he is at some kind of preschooler gym class with another friend. Combine that with the long naps Evan has been taking lately (because he's been waking up at 6am) and I've been having a good time the last couple of days.
I made pillowcases! (Hey, Mom! I used my sewing machine!) I guess I don't completely fail in domesticity after all. Our couch pillows were getting worn and ratty, so yesterday I bought fabric and made pillowcases for our hideous old pillows. (Because, remember, instead of fixing things, I cover them up. Much less effort that way.)
So, I'm awfully pleased with myself. It only took a couple of hours without the kids shrieking and climbing on me to actually accomplish something. Amazing. Of course, today I'm getting a couple of hours to myself again and so far I've spent most of my free time on LibraryThing, updating my library, and next I'm planning to upload and sort a bunch of photos, but still, those are accomplishments. Not important ones, but I've spent plenty of time in my life doing much less productive things.
It is just so nice to have time to myself. I don't think I can stress that enough. And I will be sad tomorrow when I have to be with both of my kids all day long again. But hey, we only have seven months until kindergarten! I'm starting to look forward to that.
02 March 2007
friday photos
Evan peering through binoculars with lens caps on.
James demonstrating a headstand
Evan in butterfly wings (by the way, he is wearing James' turtleneck over his own dinosaur pajamas. This is what happens on the rare occasions Evan cares what he wears -- he is adamant about looking ridiculous.)
Found James sleeping like this when I went in to check on him last night before I went to bed -- he's snuggled at the foot of his bed with all of his pillows, blankets and sleeping bag. Wouldn't be surprised if there were some stuffed animal hidden away in there as well.28 February 2007
i get a c-minus in domesticity
I like to call myself a professional mama, and I say that my profession encompasses several other occupations, such as chef, nanny, seamstress (I mended three items while watching a movie a few nights ago so I can now officially add this to my resume), and housekeeper. Now, I think it's pretty common knowledge that I'm a terrible housekeeper, but I've always tried to pretend otherwise. I mean, we've managed to keep most lethal diseases at bay, there are usually clean dishes to eat from and clean clothes to wear, and once you learn to step around and over the toys littering the living room floor, it's almost as if they're not there. Today, though, I came to a realization that, if I were actually being paid for my housekeeping skills, I'd have been fired long ago.
Greg came home today and started coughing when he walked in the door: "I'm... choking... on... scented... candle..." I said, "Oh, yeah, when I came home with James earlier, I noticed that it smelled funny in here, so I lit a candle." By the way, I came home with James around noon, and Greg walked in the door just before six. Greg asked, "What was the smell? The recycling?" I forgot to take the recycling out on Monday, and I'm pretty sure I forgot to take it out last week too, so the bin is now overflowing in the kitchen closet. In fact, half of the kitchen counter is cluttered with recyclables that are too big or heavy to stack on top of the precariously piled bin.
So I said, "Yeah, it could be the recycling, or it could also be the garbage, which is also overflowing, or maybe something spilled on the counter, or..." I trailed off as Greg just looked at me.
The point is, I smelled something funny in my house, and instead of finding the source of the odor and taking care of it, I lit a scented candle. For six hours. On top of that, as soon as I realized how ridiculous I am, instead of dealing with the odor at once, I came to the computer to sit down and write this blog post. I'm not proud of this, exactly, but I do think it's funny, if pathetic, and it's a pretty good example of how I approach pretty much everything in my life.
Now, however, I'm thinking about finding that smell and eradicating it. You know, after I make dinner. And wash the dishes. And put the kids to bed. And watch some tv. And maybe after a good night's sleep.
27 February 2007
some days are better than others
Scene: 6am. I am woken from a sound sleep by sudden shouting.
Evan: Moooommmmmyyyyy! Mommy, I poopy!
Heidi: *rolls over, hopes he goes back to sleep*
Evan: Moooommmmmyyyyy! I poopy! I need diaper!
Heidi: *kicks Greg, who is somehow managing to sleep completely through this, or is a very good faker*
Evan: Moooommmmmyyyyy! I need diaper! I poopy! Moooommmmmyyyyy!
Heidi: grumble grumble mumble please shut up
Evan: Moooommmmmyyyyy! Moooommmmmyyyyy! Moooommmmmyyyyy!
After about 15 minutes of this, I stumble from my bed into the boys' room (Greg, meanwhile, is still sleeping soundly).
Evan, as I enter the room: Mommy! Thanks, Mommy. I wuv you!
Even in a bleary-eyed, sleep-deprived state, I have to admit that's ridiculously cute. I locate diaper-changing materials, take Evan out of his crib to change his diaper.
Guess who's not poopy?
26 February 2007
oscar impressions
Those of you who know me know that I have a weakness for pop culture, celebrity gossip, and movie trivia. Mostly I try to keep these things off the ol' blog, but once in a while I just need to go there. Last night, as we all know, was the Academy Awards, the Most Important Night in Hollywood, so today is one of those days where I need to indulge my pop culture fascination.
Last year, you might remember, I was sorely disappointed in the glamorous but totally boring and drama-free ceremony. This year, I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. I really liked their theme of focusing on nominees rather than just winners. I guess it was still pretty boring, but I did manage to stay awake for all four hours, so it wasn't too terrible. And as much as I adore Jon Stewart and relish any chance to see him, I thought Ellen Degeneres was a much better Oscar host than Jon Stewart. But then, I happen to be a big Ellen fan. 90% of the reason I allow my kids to watch Finding Nemo as much as I do is because I love Ellen as Dory. Love her. And basically, any Oscar host who is not Billy Crystal or Whoopie Goldberg is okay in my book.
Okay, so I don't have a lot to say about this year's ceremony, so I'm going to finish out this post bullet-style:
- Hooray for Pan's Labyrinth! I was disappointed that it didn't win Best Foreign Film, because it was beautiful and I loved it, but I'm glad it got a few awards anyway.
- Speaking of foreign films, I loved the Best Foreign Film retrospective to celebrate 50 years of awards in that category. I realized I've seen 12 or the 50 Best Foreign Film winners (thank you, Italian and Eastern European film classes), which is almost as many as the English-language Best Picture winners I've seen.
- I was sad that neither of my favorite actresses, Cate Blanchett and Kate Winslet, won an award (though they both looked gorgeous). But I was happy for both Jennifer Hudson and Helen Mirren (who I love as well), so it was okay. Someday, Cate and Kate; someday...
- Speaking of looking gorgeous, I'm going to be completely shallow for a moment and admit how glad I was for the return of fashion blunders. Most people looked wonderful, but I got to enjoy a little schadenfreude, mostly at the expense of Kirsten Dunst, who I completely cannot stand for absolutely no good reason. I mean, it's a totally irrational dislike, above and beyond the normal level of dislike she's entitled to for being a lousy actress in mostly crappy movies.
- I didn't think that Jack Nicholson could get any creepier, but he found a way! The shaved head along with the sunglasses that seem permanently attached to his face created an alien-like look that gave me chills every time the camera cut to him (which was entirely too often. There was no reason to show him at all, except perhaps to intentionally freak people out). Congrats, Jack!
- I love Al Gore. I love that the Oscars went green; I love that his film won Best Documentary; I love that he got to speak about global warming; I love that he can make fun of himself a little bit.
- Finally, I hope that Jack Black and Will Ferrell sing an Oscar night duet together every year from now until the end of time, because they are hilarious.
Anyone want to talk Oscars, or movies in general, in comments?
23 February 2007
friday photos
It's finally Friday. It's been a long week -- two days of preschooler sickness is tiiiiring. But James is mostly well again -- well enough, anyway, for me to drag the kids to the grocery store for the groceries we've so desperately needed the last few days. I'm realizing now that I don't think I've left the house since Monday night. That's sad enough that our trip to the grocery store is looking pretty exciting to me. But tomorrow is the weekend, when I can unload some of the childcare duties on Greg, hooray!
Thought I'd celebrate with some photos from sledding last weekend.
James was fearless, barrelling down hills with or without a sled.
Yes, Evan is in the snow and he is smiling. Miraculous.
(It's because we gave him a snowball.)
Evan was perfectly content after Greg made him a "lollipop" out of snow.
(But you should have seen the tantrum when he dropped it, and Mama was unable to make him another!)
21 February 2007
tv time warp
I don't love kids' TV, nor do I hate it. I do seem to have a remarkably high tolerance for it, compared to most other people I know who are not actually children. This being a sick day, we have spent a lot of hours in front of the boob tube today, even sitting through Barney, which makes most reasonable people want to claw their eyes out. Maybe the reason I don't mind most kids' TV is because I'm pretty good at just tuning it out.
But right now? We are watching Reading Rainbow, and I am seriously digging it.
Why? Levar Burton is teaching kids about telling stories though music, and started the episode off with some examples of "the newest style of telling stories" -- music videos.
That's right, they're showing a 20-year-old episode of Reading Rainbow on our PBS station, and I am loving it. They showed video clips from Lionel Richie and Tears for Fears! Run DMC wrote a rap just for Reading Rainbow! And now Pete Seeger is reading (and singing) his book Abiyoyo, a story (and song) we all love.
And I have to say that Levar Burton in a pink shirt with bright blue jacket and tie and tallish '80s hair is truly a sight to behold.
I seriously would not enjoy this half as much were I actually a kid watching it. But I'm a total sucker for '80s nostalgia.
sick day
Poor James is sick today. Probably just a virus -- fever and lethargy are the only syptoms so far. Lethargy is key, though; it's how I can tell my normally rambunctious preschooler is actually feeling badly. I can tell this illness isn't particularly bad, though, because even though he's sprawled motionless on the couch watching a movie, he still manages to laugh from time to time. On his worst sick days he more closely resembles a zombie, so I'm not too worried today.
I used to love days when James was (mildly) sick, because those were the only days, as a toddler, that he would slow down and sit still, that he would ask me to snuggle with him, that he would act as if he actually needed me for something. But now that his little brother is the Neediest and Most Demanding Toddler in the Universe, I get my fill of snuggling and feeling needed on a daily basis, so it's not as much fun anymore. Now I'm more worried about Evan's demands keeping me from comforting James.
Anyway, I think we've got a pretty lazy day ahead of us, so I can't really complain. As long as he doesn't puke on me.
20 February 2007
i normally hate these things
I'm not the type to post stupid quizzes, because most of the time they're stupid and, for me, innacurate. Not to mention hardly ever interesting.
Well, this one wasn't very interesting, but I was incredibly pleased with the results -- I think it's very fitting. Which historical figure am I?
You are Catherine the Great.  You are very intelligent and a socialist. It is very important to you that all people be treated equally in a society. You are able to fully comprehend social problems and you are outspoken when it comes to dealing with them. Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com |
19 February 2007
the master of positivity
It has not been the best of days. Fortunately, I've had lots of opportunities to practice looking on the bright side. Examples:
1. Evan smeared yogurt in his hair at lunch.
The bright side? He smells like strawberries.
2. The toilet overflowed this afternoon, and it was messy. And smelly.
The bright side? The bathroom is cleaner than it's been in a long, long time.
3. It took me close to an hour to clean the bathroom, right when I should have been making dinner.
The bright side? Greg is making dinner because he feels sorry for me. (Actually I demanded that he either cook or take me out to dinner, because I felt sorry for myself, but that's beside the point.)
4. When the floor in the bathroom gets wet, the ceiling in the dining room leaks. I forgot about this until I came downstairs after cleaning the bathroom, and had to clean all over again.
The bright side? ... Okay, there isn't really a bright side to that.
And, okay, it actually wasn't such a terrible day, apart from the toilet issues. I only threw in the bit about Evan with yogurt in his hair because I actually really loved it that he smelled like strawberries. Anyway, it's times like this I feel thankful that I'm an optimist and am able to laugh at myself.
celebrity lookalikes
Just a bit of vanity today. A stranger recently told me that I look just like an actress I'd never heard of. He even said I must hear it all the time, which I don't, because I didn't know who she was. But it made me remember that I have been compared to a few celebrities over the years. I'm posting this not to brag that I am beautiful and gorgeous just like a celebrity, but because, as someone who's only ever considered herself to be mostly average, I think it's funny that I've been compared to beautiful celebrities to whom I think I bear no resemblance.
This photo was taken last summer, so it's pretty close to how I look now. (Couldn't figure out how to crop the kids out of the photo, but they're cute, so it's okay.) Now let's compare to the celebrities I allegedly resemble.
I look less like Julia Roberts now, since she's polished her appearance considerably in recent years.Then, no celebrity comparisons that I can remember until a few months ago, when one of Greg's friends told me that he and his girlfriend thought I looked just like the main character from the old, short-lived Fox TV series Undeclared. He couldn't remember her name, but I did a little sleuthing, out of curiosity to see if I had a twin somewhere out there, and as far as I can tell, Carla Gallo is the girl he was talking about:
My hair is not that curly, nor is it that dark, and I... well, I don't really see it. Maybe it's different seeing her in action on the show -- maybe we have similar mannerisms or something. Still, physically, not so much.
And then, last week, the University parking employee who told me I look just like an actress from CSI, "Georgia-something". Come to find out that her name is Jorja, and again, I don't really see the resemblance:
I don't know, am I wrong? Do any of you readers think I look like any of these celebrities (or any others)? Have you ever been compared to a celebrity, accurately or not?
18 February 2007
anatomy is inappropriate for children
The New York Times has an article about a children's book that was just awarded the Newbery Medal, "the most prestigious award in children's literature." It's rated at 4.5 stars on amazon.com; reviews are positive, saying things like "[the main character is] a multi-dimensional character whose predicament is compelling", "Readers will gladly give themselves over to [author Susan] Patron, a master of light but sure characterization and closely observed detail", and "Patron's plotting is as tight as her characters are endearing." As far as I've been able to tell, it contains no sex scenes, no promotion of Satanism, and no graphic violence, yet school libraries all over the country are refusing to purchase it. What could be so terrible about this book that should deem it worthy of widespread censorship?
Well, it contains the word "scrotum."
Yes, you read that right. Scrotum. Scrotum scrotum scrotum. And it's not that a scrotum is seen by a character or described by the author, no, but the word is overheard by the main character, a 10-year-old girl, who is puzzled and intrigues by the word. And why don't librarians want to purchase this book for their libraries, despite its obvious merits? According to a librarian in Brighton, NY (literally minutes from where we live), "I don’t think our teachers, or myself, want to do that vocabulary lesson."
That's what it really comes down to, isn't it? A "poignant Newbery-winning story [that] sails along with believable childlike rhythms and kid's-eye-view observations" is being censored from schools because the word "scrotum" appears on page one, and adults do not want to be faced with describing an anatomical term to middle-schoolers. One would think that these squeamish librarians, being librarians and all, might also have access to books featuring anatomical diagrams, thus relieving them of the problem of even saying the word "scrotum", much less having to explain it! No, it's far easier just to ban the book.
This makes me a little angry, but mostly sad. Is it really so terrible to ackowledge the sexual parts of the human body? It reminds me of a recent conversation in which some friends of ours expressed surprise that James is familiar with the words "penis" and "vagina", and has in fact occasionally seen his parents in various states of undress. It kind of baffles me. The only reason, I think, that anatomical words carry such mystery and secrecy about them is because we make it so. If our culture were less afraid to admit that every male person possesses a penis (and a scrotum) and every female person possesses a vagina, perhaps we'd allow our children to read a book which is not about sex or even naked people, but instead is a touching story about a young girl growing up that happens to contain the word "scrotum".
I think the next time James has a bath, I'll make sure he knows what his scrotum is and where, because it is his body, and since he's five years old, not really any more important than his knee or his kidney at this point.
16 February 2007
friday photos
More photos today because a) I don't have time for a substantial post and b) I know you all love pics of my kids.
We haven't gotten a photo of Evan in months in which he is both smiling and looking at the camera, until yesterday. All it took was a scarf, apparently:
We have some giant snow piles where the parking lots have been cleared here. Even I think they're fun to play on and I'm incredibly lame, so you can imagine what a great time James had -- those piles are huge!
Evan, however, did not enjoy being outside. At all. He was terrified of the noisy Bobcat that was clearing the parking lot while we were out, and he pretty much looked like this the whole time, no matter what I did:
And some funny bath photos, because we are totally into shampoo hair sculptures these days:
Hope everyone has a great weekend -- stay warm!
14 February 2007
snow day!
This is our front walk:
Since the maintenance people typically clear the snow in a thorough and timely fashion, we no longer own a shovel. Today the maintenance people are mysteriously absent -- or maybe they're overburdened by the ridiculous amounts of snow and just haven't made it over to our street yet. Anyway, looking at the walk is making me wish I actually owned a pair of winter boots. I know, I know, upstate NY in the winter -- it's foolish not to own boots. But you know, I'm pretty good at being foolish, as I'll demonstrate further down in the post.Here is our poor buried car. This is how buried it is after cleaning it off and going out this morning:
But from the back door it looks fluffy and innocent and pretty:
James was home from nursery school today, which I found out only after driving him there this morning. Normally we get a call in the morning if school is going to be cancelled, but today I guess they figured that only an idiot would attempt to drive in these conditions. Ladies and gentlemen, I am that idiot. After navigating poorly plowed roads at a snail's pace this morning, and nearly getting stuck in a completely unplowed section of road, I think it's safe to say that I will never, ever drive James to school again before checking school cancellations.
I think we'll be able to avoid going completely stir-crazy; after all, we've hardly left the house except for school and groceries and library trips in recent weeks. We're pros at indoor play. Our days are pretty well filled with cooking, movies, books, Star Wars, play-doh, and jumping on the bed. One of their favorite things to do lately is to sit behind the cushions on the couch and pretend that they're in a spaceship. Here's a photo of them reading on a particularly long space flight:
So we're having a fun winter so far. I'm not even sick of the snow yet! It's still pretty, and I don't have to go anywhere, so let it snow. I'll probably change my tune if this keeps up for too long, but for now, we're happy.
06 February 2007
happy happy birthday
A very happy birthday to my wonderful, witty, intelligent, thoughtful, compassionate, clever sister Kim today. Kim, I hope you're having a fabulous day!
26 January 2007
the boy makes me proud
James' friend E. is over to play. This is good for everyone because James and E. are both obsessed with Star Wars, they (mostly) tolerate Evan tagging along, and I am thus able to do a lot of things I might otherwise not have time for. (Like Boggle online!)
Scene: James and E. are (duh) playing Star Wars. James' version of Star Wars is based on the Star Wars Legos video game, which he tries to re-enact as closely as possible.
James: Do you want to be the pilot or Queen Amidala?
E.: (pause) Are you crazy?!?!?!? Queen Amidala?!?!?!
James: Yeah, do you want to be Queen Amidala or the pilot?
E.: Amidala is a girl!
James: Okay, if you want to be a boy, you can be the pilot, who is not a girl.
E.: Okay.
James: And I will be Queen Amidala.
E. is an almost-6-year-old boy, he is in kindergarten, he has an older sister, and his parents are traditional conservative Christians. These are the things that I can think of that might contribute to E's disgust at the idea of pretending to be a girl. Whatever causes it, I'm glad James doesn't have the same attitude. Star Wars has very few women, true, but the women in Star Wars are for the most part pretty capable. Not as heroic as the men, of course, but they're cool enough for my son to pretend to be them, and that's something.
the n-word
No, not that N-word. This is a family blog! But Evan has a new favorite word, one that begins with N, and at first, it was cute and adorable. Now it's making me want to rip my hair out. The word?
Naked.
Every day, multiple times a day, we have battles over the N-word. Every diaper change comes with a plea to be naked. Every change of clothing comes with cries to be naked. And every time he does get naked, for a bath or a combined diaper and clothing change? Chaos. Trying to put that kid into a diaper and clothes when he is naked is like wrestling a tiger.
Letting him play naked makes him very happy. Of course, letting him play naked means he usually pees on something. One time that "something" was our bed, which resulted in us limitiing the nudity. But let me tell you, once you've gone naked, it's hard to go back.
On top of this, every time Evan asks to be naked, James asks to be naked. James is now at an age where we're trying to discourage the public nudity. We're trying to teach him about privacy and modesty and respecting other people's desires not to see a naked five-year-old running around. This is especially important when we are visiting relatives, where certain males who are not directly related to us tend to get very uncomfortable seeing James naked. We're also trying to explain that there is a difference between being naked for a few minutes during a diaper or clothing change, and just tearing your clothes off and running wild.
So in addition to Evan screeching "I WANT NAKED! I WANT NAKED!" we have James whining, "Why can't I be naked? Evan gets to be naked. I want to be naked tooooooo!" And it seems kind of silly, because in our house we don't really have any issues with nudity. We're all pretty comfortable with it. But I don't like to encourage running around naked just for the heck of it.
What to do? On the one hand we want them to be comfortable with their bodies, but on the other hand, we want them to be considerate of other people. On the one hand, I'm getting so tired of listening to the whining and crying to be naked all the time, but on the other hand I don't want to give in to whining and crying.
Sigh. Nudity. Who knew that this would be a complicated parenting issue one day?
24 January 2007
snowy day
We are finally in the midst of a real live winter here in western New York. Today was not intolerably cold, or windy, or snowing, so I actually felt ambitious enough to take the boys outside to play. Of course, even something as simple as going outside to play in the snow ended up as a source of drama in this family.
First let me post some cute photos, taken before things went awry:
Evan, toddling through the snow
James, after sledding down a wee hill
Evan is at that weird in-between age when it comes to the snow. He's too big to be carried around, but too small to really play. At his size, every step in the snow is a gigantic undertaking of simply lifting his foot high enough so as not to trip and fall. Evan has the additional problem of refusing to wear mittens. Actually, it's not so much a refusal as it is screaming every time he sees his gloves.
So for the first ten minutes or so that we were outside, Evan did his best to simply walk through the snow. He seemed to be enjoying himself, until he got to the slight hill at the back of our yard and instantly fell. Of course, he caught himself with his hands, which were, of course, bare. Screaming, of course, ensued.
It was all downhill from there. Evan's hands were freezing, which made him cry, but the suggestion of mittens made him cry even more. Eventually I forced his little mittens onto his red little fingers. Then he spent the next ten minutes or so demanding to be carried, and crying, "My hands! My hands!" So the mittens came off again, and a thumb was immediately crammed into the mouth, and we watched James sled for a few minutes while Evan repeatedly refused every suggestion I made to him. ("Want to sled?" "No." "Want to play in the snow?" "No." "Want to go inside?" "No." "Want to go take a nap?"* "No.")
Despite Evan's lack of enthusiasm for the idea, I brought him inside and put him in bed, because I didn't dress him and myself in three layers of winter clothing to go stand around and watch James sled (though it is pretty amusing to watch, what with James being unable to steer, and half the time unable to even stay upright).
And Greg wonders why I don't take the kids out to play more often.
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*I know you think this is a silly question to ask a toddler, but Evan will actually answer yes to this question if he's really feeling tired.
23 January 2007
the fifth birthday party: a cautionary tale
I've been meaning to write about James' birthday party for days now, but I wanted to be sure I waited until I had sufficient time to relay the horrors of a five-year-old's birthday party. Sit back and listen to my tale, but make sure the lights are on, because there is some mildly frightening material ahead.
Let me begin by saying that I can't blame the boys for everything -- some of it was due to my lack of experience in the birthday party-planning field. However, I can blame the boys for most of what happened.
We had three party guests: B. (a friend of James' from school); P. (a friend who went to school with James last year but is no longer there); and E. (a friend from the neighborhood). None of the guests knew each other, though over time they bonded through their shared interests and hobbies (namely, screaming, running, jumping, and wrestling). Everyone managed to leave the party alive, though I can't say the same for some of the poor balloons, many of which were the victims of excessive rough-housing.
The first lesson of the day was that simply allowing 4 young boys to be a room together is a recipe for trouble. The noise level, the energy -- I had a headache within the first five minutes. I thought quickly and devised a plan to trick them into settling down a bit, by proposing a game. Lesson #2: Telling the boys that it's time to play a game is smarter than asking them. Obviously the little banshees, who are perfectly happy shrieking and bounding around on the furniture, will not willingly choose to slow down. To their credit, two of them told me "No, thank you" when I asked, but still, I was looking for cooperation, not politeness.
I did eventually manage to convince them to participate in the game, though, by revealing that the game was a treasure hunt, and that there would be treasure for them to keep at the end. These were the thing I had to keep stressing to hold their interest. See, because I had thought it would be a clever idea to start the treasure hunt with a puzzle telling them how to find the treasure. But the puzzle was so much work and they really wanted to just play. I reminded them of the treasure that they could keep, so they did the puzzle. And then -- lesson #3: Do not assume that other people's children are as smart as your own child. That sounds mean, but I did assume that because James can read, his peers should be able to read at least a little bit. I know that they can't does not mean they're stupid. (But I did feel a little surge of parental pride at James' ability.)
But. James read the puzzle message and a mad-cap race through the house ensued. I had planned for the treasure hunt to take 15 minutes or so (it took me twice that long to create it!) but I underestimated these clever children, who found their treasure in 5 minutes or less. Their delight in the treasure taught me lesson #4: Do not distribute the goody bags until the end of the party, unless you are trying to increase the mess and confusion of the party. Doing the treasure hunt first meant that sticky frogs and flying discs immediately filled the air. This left me with the challenge of recollecting and redistributing everything at the end of the party.
Okay, I can't remember whether we did the cake of the craft next, but I'll post the cake photos here, partly because I'm proud of my little Yoda cake, partly to remember to thank Karen for the cake recipe (thanks, Karen! It was delicious!), and partly to provide photographic evidence of the carnage created by four little boys:
Feeding them cake and popsicles did keep their mouths busy enough to bring us a little quiet (and I do only mean a little, because they still managed to keep talking and talking and talking). We were also given a little quiet while they concentrated on the craft I had prepared. Which brings me to lesson #5: Do not give paint to little boys, ever. Yes, little boys love superheroes, and yes, they love to dress like them, and yes, they love to paint, but NO, it is NOT a good idea to decorate superhero capes with fabric paint at a birthday party, especially when that paint requires 24 hours to dry. That's one lesson I wish I hadn't learned the hard way. And I'm pretty sure the other boys' parents hate me for the laundry troubles I caused them, because each of those little boys went home with paint on their clothes, and some with paint in their hair as well.
We opened birthday presents before the boys left, because I knew James was getting a couple of games that could entertain the boys until it was time to go home. Lesson #6: Do not attempt to teach young boys new games at a birthday party, because none of them will hear, much less remember the rules, and they will spend most of the game arguing over whose turn it is. We gave up on the games pretty quickly, which was a good move to stop the arguing, but it was a pretty bad move overall because I didn't have anything else planned for the party. Which leads to lesson #7: Do NOT, under any circumstances, leave young boys to their own devices! Someone will get hurt.
But the boys made it home in one piece, and I survived to write this harrowing tale of lessons learned, so that you may not repeat my mistakes. As I said to my mom after the party, thank goodness birthdays only come once a year -- that's not an experience I could stand to repeat anytime soon.
22 January 2007
why i'm pro-choice
Today is Blog for Choice Day* here on teh Internets. I wasn't going to post about it, because I write a tiny blog read only by a handful of my family and friends, so what would it matter? But women's reproductive health is an important issue to me, and after reading many blog posts on the subject today, I feel compelled to write about it.
Why am I pro-choice? I was pretty adamantly pro-life from the time I became aware of the issue until I became pregnant at the age of 19. When I found out I was pregnant, I was between my sophomore and junior years of college, my on-again, off-again boyfriend and I were off again, I was preparing to study abroad in Milan, Italy in the fall, I had no money, and I had plans for the future that didn't involve an unexpected pregnancy.
I went through a lot of agonizing and soul-searching about what to do, and I very seriously considered abortion -- seriously enough to get a list of abortion providers and phone numbers to call to schedule a procedure -- but eventually Greg and I decided to have a baby. It wasn't an easy choice to make, but I wasn't aware until I was faced with the decision how difficult it would have been to choose abortion. Like many pro-lifers, I assumed women who aborted were irresponsible sluts who took the easy way out. Only when I was in a position to consider abortion did I realize how ignorant I was.
What really turned me from being pro-life to pro-choice was that decision-making process. If I hadn't had the chance to choose for myself what was right for me, for Greg, for our lives and circumstances, how might things have been different? How would I have felt had I had no choice? Would I have resented my baby if I were forced to have him, instead of choosing him? I think it's incredibly important that I was able to choose my son, and because I was able to choose him, I understood how important it must be for other women to make a choice for themselves as well. I chose to have a baby, but I can no longer judge a woman who makes a different choice.
I became pro-choice because I learned first-hand how important it is to be able to make such an enormous decision about your own life. I've become more and more strongly pro-choice over the years as I learned first-hand what pregnancy, childbirth and motherhood are like, as I've learned more about what life is like for women who aren't allowed to choose, as I've learned more about the dangers of illegal abortions, as I've learned more about how much better off women and children are when children are wanted and planned for, as I've learned more about the realities of women's lives that don't fit neatly into the black and white pro-life mentality.
Recommended posts by women who are far more eloquent than I: Jill at Feministe has an amazingly comprehensive post listing dozens of reasons to be pro-choice, and an old post from Bitch, Ph.D. asks whether or not you trust women to make decisions for themselves.
Share your pro-choice stories or links in comments!
*Edit -- Forgot to add that today is Blog for Choice Day because it is also the 34th anniversary of Roe v. Wade. Hooray!
15 January 2007
a momentous occasion
I'm sure you were all wondering, what with the lack of updates, whether I survived James' birthday party or not. I did survive, and I'll have more to say about it once I get the photos uploaded to the computer. But I've got something else to write about today.
Ladies and gentlemen, last night, for the first time in more than a year, Greg and I went to the movies, by ourselves, to see a grown-up film. We went to our local second-run theater and saw "The Prestige", one of the two films involving magicians (that I know of) to come out last year. The movie was pretty entertaining -- it had both Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale as eye-candy -- but really, it was the experience. It was like dating again!
I don't actually have much to say about it, but I thought I'd share my excitement.
11 January 2007
i might be crazy
I decided to have a birthday party for James. He's five years old, he's been to enough birthday parties to know what he's been missing before now, and gosh darn it, I do like to make the kid happy.
But. I forgot that Greg was going to be out of town for a few days this week (yesterday morning through tomorrow night), so the job of cleaning the house and getting it ready for a party falls squarely on my shoulders, on top of single momming. If you have any idea of what kind of effort I put into housekeeping on a daily basis (i.e., virtually none), you will understand what a challenge it is going to be for me to make the house presentable.
I started last night, but for some reason I began my cleaning efforts with the toys. Actually, I know the reason: I can't vacuum the living room until the millions of cars and action figures and Go Fish cards and random Mr Potatohead parts and teeny-tiny Lego pieces are picked up. The smartest thing would have been to vacuum immediately after picking up, but by then it was midnight and I figured I'd tackle it in the morning. Of course, my efforts were immediately reversed this morning, since the first thing Evan does when confronted with the wide-open space of a living room floor is to dump toys all over it.
In addition to the cleaning, I decided to make a vegan cake so that one of the party guests won't be left out. This will require finding a suitable recipe and shopping for ingredients (neither of which I've done yet) as well as actually baking and decorating the thing. James still hasn't told me what he wants his cake to look like, either.
And on top of the cleaning and the cake, I have yet to figure out what I'm going to do with four 4-6-year-olds for two hours. I know, it's only 4 boys, and it's only 2 hours, but seriously, two of those boys are the most high-energy kids I've ever met, as well as being a little aggressive. And James is the type of kid who just feeds off of the energy of other children and tends to get a little out of control in social situations. And I'm going to be giving these kids sugar?!
I'm kind of wishing I had not let James talk me into this. I really should learn not to take advice from five-year-olds.
10 January 2007
2006 in books
Taking a cue from Kim, I bring you the list of books I read in 2006:
1. Mismeasure of Women: Why Women Are Not the Better Sex, the Inferior Sex, or the Opposite Sex by Carol Tavris
2. The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
3. God Bless You, Dr. Kevorkian by Kurt Vonnegut
4. The Story of Jane: The Legendary Underground Feminist Abortion Service by Laura Kaplan
5. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood +
6. Gorillas in the Mist by Dian Fossey
7. And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie +
8. Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream by Barbara Ehrenreich
9. Galapagos by Kurt Vonnegut +
10. A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry *
11. 1421: The Year China Discovered America by Gavin Menzies
12. The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown +
13. Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro
14. When the Elephants Dance by Tess Uriza Holthe *
15. Return to Wild America: A Yearlong Search for the Continent's Natural Soul by Scott Weidensaul
16. Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison
17. White Oleander by Janet Fitch
18. Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed by Jared Diamond *
19. Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith by Jon Krakauer
20. Tulipomania: The Story of the World's Most Coveted Flower and the Extraordinary Passions it Aroused by Mike Dash
21. Under a Wild Sky: John James Audubon and the Making of Birds of America by William Souder
22. The Conjurer's Bird by Martin Davies
23. The City of Falling Angels by John Berendt
24. Black Swan Green by David Mitchell
25. Family Matters by Rohinton Mistry
+ = re-read
* = book club selection
Kind of a small list, for me, this year, but I did not include all of the cookbooks, graphic novels or children's books I read, and there were several of each of those, particularly children's books that I read with James.
Now for the awards!
Best Fiction: The Rohinton Mistry books win hands-down in this category. Both are dense, rich, moving stories with lots of character development. Historical setting and background are also important to both books, and I learned a bit about India as a result. Mistry is a really talented author, propelling his characters through multiple interwoven plots over many years without losing momentum. These are two of the best novels I've ever read, let alone this year.
Runner-up: Black Swan Green. David Mitchell is not for everyone -- his novel is not plot-driven, but more character driven, and instead of a straightforward story we are given periodic glimpses into the life of a thirteen-year-old boy. Some things are not resolved, and it feels a little incomplete, but it kind of feels more realistic that way, as if we're reading selected passages from the protagonist's diary. One of my favorite things about David Mitchell (this is true of his novel Cloud Atlas as well) is his ability to seamlessly, flawlessly slip into the voices of his characters.
Honorable Mentions: Song of Solomon, Never Let Me Go.
Best Non-fiction: This would have to be Collapse, simply because it covers so much and does it so well. It's almost like reading a textbook, but it's very well-written, accessible, well-researched, and convincing. It ties societal collapse to environmental destruction, and it made me start looking differently at the ways in which we live in the world. It's a little bleak -- mostly because of the enormity of the damage we've inflicted on the planet -- but that's almost a good thing, because it emphasises the severity of the problems we had in the past, the problems we're having in the present, and the problems we're likely to face in the future.
Runner-up: Return to Wild America. It covers some of my favorite stuff -- conservatoin, ecology, history -- while comparing the environmental status of today to that of America in 1953 as observed by Roger Tory Peterson and James Fisher in their book Wild America. Weidensaul, like Peterson & Fisher before him, focuses primarily on birds, but looks at them all across the continent and as part of the larger picture of the environment. He also manages to throw in some subtle digs at the Bush administration, which is always a plus in my book.
Honorable Mentions: Gorillas in the Mist, Under the Banner of Heaven, Under a Wild Sky.
Worst Non-fiction: I only put this category in because there was a book I really wanted to like, but just couldn't, and that's 1421: The Year China Discovered America. Menzies had a really intriguing premise (that the Chinese reached the Americas before Europeans did) and some interesting, if debatable, supporting evidence, but there were parts of his book that were so bad, I just couldn't take the rest of it seriously. For example, when presenting the evidence for your case, who writes something to the effect of "I've asked professionals to evaluate this, but they've refused my request, so until I find someone to authenticate my hunch, I'm going to assume it's true" or "I haven't yet finished this research, but by the time you read this book it should be on my website"? Sloppy and un-academic, and these methods turned me off to what otherwise might have been a pretty decent read.
Best Fluff: The Conjurer's Bird. I got this book from the library because I liked the title and the cover art, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that I liked the story as well. Part mystery, part romance, with some history and nature thrown in, it was a quick and entertaining read.
Runner-up: The Historian. Another mystery, this one suspenseful, and incorporating history and vampire legends into its plot. Overall it was pretty entertaining, and it went a lot quicker than its imposing 600+ pages would suggest. I thought the ending was kind of a cop-out, and it could have easily been a couple of hundred pages shorter, but I did rather like it for what it is.
So there's my year in books. I have to say, most of them I really did enjoy, and in some cases (non-fiction especially) it was hard to choose a favorite. And there were actually no books that I flat-out didn't like -- 1421 annoyed me, but it was interesting, and yes, I did enjoy The DaVinci Code, which is why I've read it twice. To paraphrase something I once read (I can't remember where now), filet mignon is clearly superior, but sometimes you just want a burger.
09 January 2007
birthday recap
So I now have a five-year-old. Apparently a year does make a difference, because I was a thousand times more pleased with the birthday decisions he made this year than with those he made last year. This year, James and I made cupcakes to take into his preschool class, we spent the afternoon at the Strong Museum, and we had dinner at Bugaboo Creek Steakhouse, a family favorite, mostly because of all the dead animals on the walls, but also because of the really delicious steaks.
We had a fun experience at Bugaboo -- not only did we get a free dessert for James' birthday, but we got a free meal as well, because our waiter sucked. First, it took at least 15 minutes from the time we were seated for him to amble over to our table; then he forgot our salads. Those things weren't really a big deal to us, but they felt so badly about it, and kept apologizing, and the manager came over to offer to deduct the price of one entree (not even James' meal, but one of the expensive meals!). They were feeling so guilty that we didn't have the heart to tell them that they forgot to include James' fruit with his meal. Our waiter had a terrible hairstyle -- bleach blonde, bangs to his chin in the front, short and spiky all over the back -- so we joked that maybe his bad hair was distracting him from his serving duties. (I have no problem with people styling their hair however they like, but I also have no problem with making fun of people who choose to style their hair in ridiculous fashions.) Overall it was really a nice meal, made that much better by the free entree.
Now I'm debating with myself over whether or not to throw James a birthday party. I know I sound like a terrible mother, but... I don't really want to have a birthday party. And I already told him we'd have one, so I'm even more terrible if I don't go through with it. But there are the issues of who to invite (and who to leave out), when to have it so that most kids can come, and what to do with a bunch of four-and-five-year-olds. But I've got to decide if I want to have it this weekend. Part of me is just hoping that James will forget, because it's so much easier not to have a party. But then the Terrible Mother Guilt kicks in. I guess I should probably just suck it up and have the party.
Overall I think he did enjoy his birthday. He had one disappointment, though -- the free cake at dinner was chocolate. Can you believe this is my kid? He insisted that the cupcakes we make for school be vanilla with vanilla frosting, and that's what he's requested for a cake as well. If I hadn't birthed the kid myself, sometimes I really would wonder if he was mine.
08 January 2007
2004:
2006:
06 January 2007
maybe i'm just secretly immortal
I was randomly looking at my blogger profile today, and something looked wrong to me. Wait a minute, I thought, I wasn't born in the year of the Rat. I was born in the year of the Cock. Then I saw my age: 250? Haha, I thought, somehow an extra zero got tacked onto the end of my age. When I logged in to fix my age, though, I saw that it wasn't my age itself that was messed up, but my birth year. Which was listed as 1756.
Now, there's no way I made that kind of typo. I don't know what's going on, but I think it's pretty hilarious that 1756 is even an allowable number to be entered into that box.
(I also think it's pretty hilarious that I take a paragraph to tell what could basically be a one-line story, but maybe that's just me.)
05 January 2007
home again
We are home from the west coast, happy and tired, and after two days, still adjusting to east coast time. We had a nice relaxing vacation, full of lazing around and playing video games (I finally got to try Nintendo Wii, and it's as fun as everyone says -- and good for the kiddos, too), playing board games, watching movies (mostly kids' or family movies: we saw Happy Feet in the theater, and at Greg's parents we watched Cars, Over the Hedge, The Fox and the Hound (which still manages to make me cry after all these years), The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins, The Sword in the Stone, Wallace and Gromit's Curse of the Were-Rabbit, and Batteries Not Included*, which we found in the bargain bin at Wal-Mart [which I only shopped at for lack of other options, really] along with Short Circuit. Score! And let's not forget the quintessential Christmas movie, A Christmas Story.), eating lots of delicious unhealthy food, and other things that probably contributed to a significant holiday weight gain. It was nice to see Greg's family again, and always fun to hang out with his siblings.
The holidays were nice, too. It was a Star Wars Christmas -- the boys got cool gifts such as Star Wars Transformers (which impressed Greg's friends as much as our kids), Star Wars blankets (made by Greg's sister), a lightsaber video game, Star Wars potato-heads, Star Wars action figures... am I forgetting anything? It was a lot of Star Wars stuff. George Lucas makes his living off of people like us. And New Year's was nice, if not terribly exciting. We spent it at Greg's grandparents' house with his family, where James had his first taste of champagne (accidentally! I thought it was sparkling cider!) and Greg and I stayed up long into the night playing games with his brother and sister.
The other notable event on our trip was the flight home. We hit the worst turbulence I've ever been in , and it was actually really scary. Three times I had the stomach-dropping feeling you get on a roller-coaster, and I wasn't the only one, because the third time was accompanied by a collective gasp from my fellow passengers. Greg comforted a slightly freaked-out James while I held on to a sleeping Evan for dear life during the shaking and jumping around. Scary. But obviously we made it through safely.
I didn't take many photos, mostly out of laziness, but the few I did take, I'll try to post on the Yahoo site this weekend. I'm probably forgetting to mention a lot of things, but now that I'm home I have more time for the Internet and I'm feeling an urge to blog after my short break. Of course, every time I say that my mind immediately goes blank and I can't think of a single thing to write about. But Kim's latest post has inspired me to write a similar post soon, and I'm hoping to get together a review of 2006, and James' birthday is coming up in a few days, so as long as I take the time to sit down and write, I will have things to write about.
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*Guess who wrote Batteries Not Included? Brad Bird, of The Incredibles and Iron Giant fame -- two of my favorite American animated films. And I thought he couldn't be any cooler.
