Time

It feels like forever since Dave and Hilary and Ava and Ian were here to visit us this summer, which was awesome.

And somehow it feels like yesterday that we sat in Mel's Diner four years ago, which was also awesome.

Muffin Man

I just put Tito down for bed and I saw, really saw, that my son sleeps with a Calphalon mini-muffin pan that I bought him at T.J. Maxx so that he would stop throwing himself at shelves of home goods and I could continue my quest for something in Beaver orange, a color in which no human looks good but some 40,000 people try to on gamedays here in Corvallis. Anyway. Calphalon mini-muffin pan. Death grip.

He also picks flowers, ever so gently:

2nd Day of October, 2009

Theo is 2 years, 7 months old and Lucca is 4 years 11 months old going on ZEN MASTER.

We talked about death last night. We discussed Russell. She now knows that he isn't flying in the air anymore. No fantasy, reality. All of a sudden.

When did this happen? Must have been when I was on a plane, which is what Lucca drew for the assignment "draw your parents at work." Previous to that, she thought I was a sportscaster because I told her I "had to work in the box [skybox] at the football game." Previous to that she explained to people that I am an administrator. Sportscaster is better, no?

One of the kids drew a picture of his mom. The caption read, "There is a party at Mommy's work today at 12:15 FOR REAL."

The 2nd Day of September, 2009

The camera is broken, so I don't have pics, so therefore I can't write a post? Seems to be the case.

So have fired up some cell pics, which are just what I needed in order to write some really gripping shit (how'm I doing so far?)

Today Theo is 2 1/2 years old. Lucca is 4 years, 9 months.

And I am apparently about as good a mommy blogger as I am at enjoying marketing materials from school re: special classes our kids can take that will allow us to, like any self-respecting parent, of course, "Give Your Child Every Advantage."

Memo to KLC Corp (which I love love love, but still): What have you been holding out on me? Which advantages have we been missing? That aren't included for our private tuition bill? Is this a ploy so bougies like us will make the calculation to deprive 529 accounts in favor of investing early so the lil scampers will maybe one day get a scholarship and not need the 529 bc they took ABC Music and Me when they were 2 1/2?

Or is this just an awesome idea to repurpose already developed content into what looks like a separate program, which rakes in another few hundred bucks per family per month. And doesn't necessarily offer any new "advantages?"

The thing is, and why I'm all pissy is, I'm still all giddy from the initial marketing materials that promised my kids would be receiving "every advantage" just by walking through the front door. This new "every advantage" promise is making me feel a little chumpy for that. Annnnnd a little bit like firing off some checks.

Let's hope my new camera arrives soon.

Theo, Heard Loud and Clear

At 7am, in bed, right in my face:

"Mommy, I want Cheerios!"

"Theo, if you want something from Mommy, what would you say?"

"Get them for me? Now!!!"

.......

At rental car agency after long flight and longer trek to the car, which has been promised to contain car seats, but does not:

"GOD DAMMIT, WHERE ARE THE CAR SEATS?"

......

Slicing small pieces of blue cheese off the hunk and handing it to him with a fig-half. I give him a slice:

"Give it to me."

I gesture toward him again with the slice:

"Give it to me."

I tell him I AM GIVING IT TO YOU.

He points to the hunk of cheese, rather than the slice.

"Give that to me! I want to shove it in my face."

The 2nd Day of August, 2009

Today Theo is exactly 2 years and 5 months old; Lucca is exactly 4 years and 8 months old. Peter is 40 years and 1 month old.

And I am kinda in the amorphoros window where it seems impossible to know what's age appropriate. Texting? Supplements? Going to work with a hangover? The only thing I'm sure is age-appropriate is Botox. In which case, I must be 35 years and 7 months old.

........

In other news, I'm having lots of camera problems. In order to kind of fix one of the issues I thought I was having, I put my fingers all over the lens, probably with peanut butter or something all over them. So, my next few pix turned out like this. I kinda love smudgy photos.

Lucca at the Benton County Fair:

Here's Theo in his Paul Frank shorts from TJ Maxx, his blue camo bear shirt (which came from Sam? Ian?) that I cut up, and his track shoes from Nordstrom "Last Chance" in Phoenix. I love the way he looks, and not just because of the smudgy part.

An Open Letter to Theo Part VII

Dear Tito,

You're two. And a boy.

A boy previously known as our buddah boy. You are still 80% buddah, but 20% puppy dog tails for sure. You're in our bed EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. No one sleeps. You threw a hamburger bun at your Grampa the other day. Oh, and some chairs a few days before that. You punch when you feel like it...mostly sissy punches, but still. You make little pshew pshew gun noises. You do not say please or thank you. So, boy.

On the other hand, you are the snuggliest schmoostipootsie ever invented. You randomly come up to me and say "I love you" and "I want a kissy. A smacker. A nosy kissy. A butterfly kissy." You eat your food--for the most part. At the end of dinner you say "Thank you for a beautiful dinner" (most days) and "May I please be excused." What a dreamboat.

You still live to be happy. People who know you, even if they've just met you, can't help but tell us how amazing you are, how happy. You personify happiness. You exude it. It really is something to behold...and something to inspire the rest of us.

How lucky am I to be your mom. Thank you for being my son.

You are perfect in every way and I am almost incapacitated by my love for you,

The Staff

You and Grampa when you're not throwing a hamburger bun at him...giving Percy a new battery. Pretty sweet stuff....

Fish Storm

Me: Theo, do you want to go get some Thomas the Tank Engine underwear?

Theo: Yeah! Thomas underwear!

Me: Well, Theo, you have to go potty on the potty if you want to pick out underwear. K?

Theo: ......

Me: Soooooo...to review then....Whhhhheeeeeennnn do you get to pick out underwear?

Theo: Go potty on the couch.

...............................


Theo:
I don't wanna go to school.
I don't wanna have cereal.
I don't wanna go to bed.
I don't wanna go to bed.
I don't wanna go to bed.
I don't wanna wear that shirt.
I don't wanna wear those pants.
I don't wanna wear those shoes.
I don't wanna go outside.
I don't wanna get in car.
I don't wanna go home.

Me:

Theo, life's a bitch and then you die.

.......................................


Me: Theo, today's gonna be a real shitstorm.

Theo: Mommy, can I go with you?

Me: Huh?

Theo: Can I go with you?

Me: Go with me where?

Theo: Go with you to the fish storm?

Frozen Peas

The girls (Finn, Mia, Kaja, Lucca) decided they would surf down the stairs on this papasan thing. The story goes that Mia went first, unscathed. Then Lucca and Kaja---scathed.

There were three parents standing 20 feet away, but there is no way they could stop what was about to happen. It went down so fast. She went down so fast.

Everyone, I'm not ready for all the catapulting through my kid's life that will no doubt result in various injuries, the worst of them invisible to the naked eye. I'll always wish that I could prevent what causes pain, and I'll always know that I cannot.

Right now though, I will borrow the frozen peas I'm holding on her eye and leave it on my chest for a sec. And then put it on my head, right above my temple. Alternate between my head and my heart, the places where I feel pretty banged up myself today.

............................................................


UPDATE:

DAY 3, and all the talk at school is about "stair surfing."

One kid: "The only problem was that they didn't hold on tight enough. Gotta hold on tight."

Another kid: "The only problem is that someone pushed them before they were ready. Gotta be ready first."

Another kid: "The only problem is that too many people were doing it at once. Gotta go one at a time"

Greeeeaaat.

Flip-flops

There's this story. During our honeymoon (roadtrip, featured above), Peter and I managed to score the last cabin at the Grand Canyon one night during the fires that year. We proceeded to take with us on a sunset hike: Manhattans in clear plastic cups and also, flip-flops.

Cut to me writhing around in pain on the forest floor, SCREAMING and SCREAMING, begging for the forest service people and a stretcher, having just kicked an exposed tree root with all of my newlywed and buzzed up might. Drama yeah, but....

This incident leads directly to the growth of a tumor in my toe. YES! A tumor. I swear to God.

I have it removed a few weeks after Lucca is born. The day after we get back from a trip to the Netherlands and Paris. Which we left for the day after I had Lasik surgery. S0: wedding, honeymoon, toe disaster, two months go by, preggers, then in about two weeks have baby, have lasik, go to Paris, have tumor removed. We're much better about scheduling now. Notwithstanding most of the time.

Here's us during our most recent hike, by which I really mean "hike". More like a walk....about the same level of difficulty as a sunset walk at the Grand Canyon.

Note Peter's Keens. Note...my flip-flops. I was really mad at him when he chose not to smile for this photo...cuz we probably have two photos of us together since the kids killed the couple-y photo shoots. But upon further reflection, I notice that his mouth is basically upturned, which is more enthusiasm than a girl walking around amoungst trees and their roots in blue patent pleather flip-flops can really expect. I'm a lucky lady, no?

In other news, Peter is 40 today.