You are My Miracle

Tater brought this sweet poem home from school.  Once I stopped sobbing, I thought I should share it.

You are My Miracle

I am your parent.

I am your child.

I am your quiet place.

I am your WILD.

I am your hot chocolate.

I am your marshmallow.

I am your nutcracker.
I am your cookie dough.

I am your gingerbread.

I am your frosting and goo.

I am your paper.

I am your glitter and glue.

I am your wrapping.

I am your surprise.

I am your "Don't peek!"

I am your wide eyes.

I am your "Bundle Up!"

I am your dash outside.

I am your uphill pull.

I am your fast sleigh ride.

I am your fortress.

I am your snowball fight.

I am your decorate.

I am your tangled lights.

I am your helper.

I am your "do-it-myselfer."

I am your Santa Claus.
I am your Christmas elf.

I am your glass ball.

I am your popcorn string.

I am your pageant.

I am your angel's wings.
I am your steady hands.

I am your rising star.

I am your stocking.

I am your chocolate bar.

I am your caroling.

I am your jingle bell.

I am your favorite song.

I am your First Noel.

I am your old stories.

I am your make-believe.

I am your "Go to Sleep!"

I am your Christmas Eve.

I am your "Hush now."

I am your lyrical.

I am your peace on earth.

I am your miracle.

And there I go again with the sobbing...what a sap...

Kid Friendly Technology

When Sprout was a wee thing in first grade, she was picked up by the bus for aftercare program two days each week while I was far away working in a real live office. Except for the one day they forgot her.

Well, they didn't forget - some other kid said she wasn't coming on the bus (wrong!) and the bus left without her.

So not cool.

And I had no way to contact her to tell her it was going to be OK and someone was coming to get her. And she had no way to contact me to say "Where the heck is the bus?"

So I decided it would be a good idea for her to have an "emergencies only" cell phone. So that if she was stranded somewhere, she could call for help.

At that time, we got her the Migo - a cute little kid-friendly phone that allowed only 4 numbers (plus 911) to be programmed in, so she could call for help, but couldn't chat up her little friends or prank call them, or whatever it is 6-year-olds might do on the phone.

Then she got older and wanted a "real" cell phone. Although she still doesn't actually call anyone, and I don't really like the idea of her chatting away during the day.

And then I found Kajeet - a cell phone service just for kids - with LOTS of controls for parents. Even a control-freak like myself can find very little to argue with at Kajeet.

We are signed up for a $5 per month basic service and can control the hours that the phone can be used, who she can call, who can call her, etc. There are two payment accounts, so we can foot the bill for calls home, and she can be on the hook for calls to friends. AND if we wanted to, we could activate a GPS chip in the phone and actually know where she (or at least the phone) is during the day.

So cool.

We even got Tater one, because he shouldn't be stranded anywhere either.

Then the next communication frontier - my old friend and master e-mail - reared its head. Sprout wants to e-mail.

Immediately I think of all of the generous offers for Viagra and other interesting and not-kid-appropriate things that I get on a daily basis and think...hmmmm...no.

But then I searched Google for "e-mail for kids" and found Zoobuh. This is the e-mail version of Kajeet. Yay!

I signed both Sprout and Tater up for their own accounts. We have a free 30-day trial and then it is $1 per month for ad-free, kid-safe e-mail.

You set up the contact list for the kids and then control whether they can receive e-mail from people outside of the contact list, or send to them. I have it set to send me a copy of each e-mail that they send or receive (just to make sure nothing inappropriate is going on). As they get older, I could turn that feature off if I want to.

The kid pages are ad-free, the parent pages have some minimal advertising. So far, it seems like just the right thing.

So now the kids are connected...to only the people they should be connected to. They are happily e-mailing their grandparents about camp and newly missing teeth.

And they still don't know anything about Viagra. Whew.

Super Seven!!

Seven. Seriously? Seven?
That can't be right.

He was just a little velvet-headed baby in a basket.
He was just in one of those baby-slings looking at me like I was insane to do that to him.
He was just freaked out by the rocking horse that talked to him.
He was just unwilling to touch the sand on the beach.
He was just telling me that I should cook the green beans in the toaster.
He was just bringing me paper flowers.
He was just convincing his sister that it wasn't so scary to ride the bus.
He was just six...and I was just getting used to the idea...

Saving Blankie

I'd like you all to meet Blankie.

Blankie has seen better days. He has been a constant companion to Sprout for over 9 years - some of those more constant than others. When she was an infant and toddler she took him (and Lambie) everywhere with her. Back in those days Blankie was a gorgeous chenille blanket from Churchill Weavers - which I discovered has apparently gone out of business. Sad face.

Back in his heyday, Blankie looked sort of like this...but pink. And no, I don't know why he's a he. He just is.

Anyway, Blankie has been crumbling before our very eyes. Behaving much like the museum-bound artifact that he is. We attempted a "fringectomy" and stitched around the edges to stop the unraveling. He has several huge scars where we sewed huge tears back together. He is a mess.

A week or so ago Sprout was lamenting his sad condition and broke down in tears that he was going to completely fall apart and then she would need a new one.

Did I mention the company that makes them has gone out of business? That you can get one on eBay - but it will cost you $200 (!) and that she is 9 1/2? All of these factors add up to a great big negative on a replacement strategy.

So I came up with the brilliant (I think) idea of sewing Blankie to some sort of soft, supportive backing fabric that would hold him together and allow him to live a long life of soothing the jangled nerves of my pre-pubescent child. Sometimes a girl just needs her Blankie.

I went to Jo-Ann Fabrics and found this nice velvety/veloury fabric. The goal was for it to be super-soft and thin enough to be cuddly once it was hooked onto Blankie. This fit the bill nicely. And the stars are cute.


My original plan was to sort of quilt Blankie onto the top of the fabric. And no, I have no idea how I was going to do that. But once I laid him out on top of the new fabric, I had this great brainstorm that I could just sort of fold up the sides of the new stuff around him, like it was the binding on the blanket. Like a frame around Blankie.

Doesn't he look sad all laid out there, like some animal pelt? Poor Blankie - don't worry, it will get better...

So I wrapped the edges up and pinned them. Blankie is missing a huge hunk of corner so the end result isn't square, but I think that is somehow more fitting.

I even carefully (sort of) mitered the corners so there wouldn't be so many layers of fabric to jam through my underutilized sewing machine.

Where is that thing anyway?

So I found the sewing machine, and after breaking the needle, annoying the bejeezus out of the nice lady at Jo-Ann's with my sewing-machine-needle-buying cluelessness, finding that there was actually a spare in the machine (oops), tangling the thread several times, and remembering how much I adore my child and why it was worth doing all of this...got everything sewed up. Whew.

I think the end result is quite fabulous. He even looks pink again with his new backing. I did some vertical lines of stitching across Blankie's surface to stick him down to the backing so he is firmly attached.



And no, they are mostly not straight. And his scars are all still showing.

But I think that's OK. He's not going to be modeling anytime soon. And Sprout has been walking around hugging him and wearing him and loving him. And she's pretty happy with me, too.

Ah, the things we do for the love of a child. The things we can fix, we fix. The things we can't fix, we try to find a way to fix anyway. And sometimes it actually works out. I love it when that happens!

I Think I am Doing This Wrong

The Plan:

1.) Go to the Library.
2.) Go to Maggie Moo's Ice Cream to get the kids free ice cream cones.

No cost. Free. Gratis.

The Actuality:

1.) Go to the Library.
2.) Fight with the children about why they can't get their regular treats at Maggie Moo's. (Because that isn't what is FREE!)
3.) Arrive at Maggie Moo's to find that they aren't participating in the free ice cream cones.
4.) Silently fume.
5.) Purchase $10 of ice cream for the children. It would be wrong to take them to the door of the ice cream place and leave.
6.) Not so silently complain to the high-school aged person who took my money. He didn't care.
7.) Decide to take a quick trip into Barnes & Noble - ONLY for a guidebook for things to do in Washington DC on our trip this weekend.
8.) Deflect Tater's request for a CD course in Italian.
9.) Deflect Sprout's request for a map of Prague.
10.) Find guidebook...and map.
11.) Deflect request for snacks. (We JUST had not-free ice cream!!)
12.) Get suckered into buying the "Wimpy Kid Do-It-Yourself" Book for BOTH children.
13.) RUN to the parking lot escaping any other purchases.

Total Planned Cost: $0
Total Actual Cost: $50

I am TOTALLY doing this wrong.

Some more Tater Philosophy (Because it is so darned cute)

Actual conversation that took place earlier this week. During toothbrushing, I think - or I guess during the procrastinating before the toothbrushing, or else it wouldn't have made any sense, right?

T: Mommy, it must be hard to be one of the richest people in the world.

M: I guess it could be - why do you say that?

T: Well, first you have to make all the money and stuff. And then you have to go look up what number you are.

Because seeing where you are on the Forbes list is the most exhausting part of being wealthy...all that thumbing through the list, when you are SO tired from counting your money. Whew. Good thing I don't have THAT to worry about...

Inspired, I am sure, by an episode of The Suite Life on Deck - our touchstone for reality.

Being a Mom Builds Self-Esteem

A few years ago this little exchange took place...I think of it frequently...

Me: Tater, when I look at your face, it makes me smile.

T: Mommy, when I look at your face, it makes me laugh.

Kiddie Quotes

We were driving today in the car and the kids were getting silly (shocking, I know...) We saw a Dunkin Donuts and the kids started riffing a bit on the name...

Bunkin Bonuts
Frunking Fronuts (gotta watch pronunciation there)

And then...my favorite...

Drunken Honuts

Of course, the kids have NO CLUE why that is so funny. And yet...it is.

The Tipping Point - 4th Grade Version

My daughter (AKA Sprout) spent $15 of her allowance money on a Snuggie.

Had to have it.

Because it was recommended by her teacher, who apparently wears hers every night to watch TV.

Nothing cooler than a 9-year-old wrapped head to toe in electric blue fleece - with sleeves.

And yet - now I sort of want one. Because the only thing cooler than the aforementioned fleece-wrapped child is a matching fleece-wrapped mother.

And...and...it comes with a free book light!
And...and...we got it at Target!

Everything good in the world (almost) can be purchased at Target. The corollary being, everything that can be purchased at Target is good. Right?

Blue Food

I remember at some point making a comment that blue food is just wrong. There are no foods in nature that are really and truly blue.

Then a few weeks ago, Sprout and I were reading The Lighting Thief (an excellent book for kids who liked Harry Potter) and the mother in the story likes to make blue food as a rebellious move. And Sprout loved that idea.

So on the way home from karate today, we were talking about what we were going to have for dinner. And Tater, as always, wanted Macaroni and Cheese (more specifically Easy Mac...and yes, I know it is just barely even real food...but kids can not live on only whole grain healthy things, or at least mine apparently can't). And he thought maybe it should be blue.

So for dinner tonight we had blue mac & cheese. Actually it was sort of neon green since the blue food coloring blended with the neon orange "cheese". The kids found this terribly amusing. It seemed kind of wrong to me, but I am a grown-up and frequently feel guilty about eating "fun" foods anyway.

Mike asked if it counted as our vegetable since it looked vaguely like green beans. No, it did not. We had carrots and cucumbers, too.

The point here is, that it is fairly easy to make dinner more entertaining to your kids. Add a little unexpected color. Even if it seems sort of counterproductive, I am fairly sure a little blue food never hurt anyone.

Brrrrr...

It is cold outside.

Like, I am driving the kids to school because I don't want to stand at the bus stop and freeze (and it also gives me an excuse to go to Dunkin' Donuts for my iced coffee...but that isn't the main reason...really).

Like, I wish I was allowed to put a jacket on the dog.

Like, I am thinking it wasn't such a fantastic idea to cut my hair so my neck is hanging out.

And yet, I am not putting gloves and scarves and things on my children. Bad Mommy, right?

But when I try to put gloves in Tater's pockets (just in case, I say) he refuses them on the basis that if he HAS them, his teacher will make him WEAR them. Bad teacher? Isn't that what they are for??

BUT...he can't jump rope with gloves on. And the boy is a jump roping maniac. He and his friend have been jump roping during every recess since they discovered their mutual interest way back in September - which is like 10 years in kid time. They take their own ropes and everything.

So, I am letting him go to school when it is 30 degrees out, gloveless. And since he isn't being forced to take them, Sprout doesn't want any either. Although she will wear her funky hat.

So far everyone still has their fingers. And there are always pockets, right?

Of course, I don't wear gloves either. Can't text with them on...

So, am I being supportive of their interests? Or irresponsible? Or is it conflict-avoidance?
Not sure.

I just know I will be very happy when things warm up and I can find something else to stress about!

Weirdest Kid Ever

Tater's new favorite snack is edamame. You probably are thinking "Eda-who?" Seriously!

Soybeans. Shelled soybeans. Straight-up green. Protein-packed. Isoflavone rich. And, when sprinked with a little kosher salt, downright tasty.

Weirdest. Kid. Ever.

I wouldn't have thought they'd be good. But I have seen them suggested as a yummy snack in numerous magazines and books and thought, why not? I figured maybe I could suffer through a few. And wouldn't it be amusing to try to get the kids to eat them?

They were super-easy to prepare. Take frozen bag of shelled edamame, and dump it into a microwave-safe bowl. Put on the lid. Microwave for 2-3 minutes. Sprinkle with kosher salt. Done.

First taste...hmmm....salty (from, you know, the salt...)...not too beany...sort of indescribable...maybe a little nutty? Um...yum?

Tater came creeping over - "What is that?"
Me: "Edamame"
T: "Who's Mommy?"
Me: "Soybeans...Taste one...they are salty."
T: "Mmmm...I like these beans!"

Sprout was too terrified by the greenness to even give them a shot. But I am not all that surprised by that. Tater, however, ate handfuls of them yesterday and then jumped at the chance to have some for his after-school snack today.

And I am having trouble keeping my hands out of them. How totally weird is that??

Flashback

I am reading through some of the notebooks I kept (still keep, although with less frequent entries) of funny things the kids said when they were very small.

I thought I would share a couple:

February 2003 - Sprout is 3 1/2
Mommy: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Sprout: Batman!
M: Good choice.
S: He has power! (Fist in the air) He has ugly eyes and horns.
M: Really?
S: Yeah, and rosy cheeks.

February 2005 - Tater is 2 1/2

Driving...
Tater: I see a house with a sign with a tooth and so I'm guessin' that's where the tooth fairy lives.
Mommy: Maybe it's a dentist's office?
T: No, it isn't an office, it's a house - so I think that's the tooth fairy's house.

I have tons of these...and now a 9 year-old and a 6-year-old...who say things like "If you won't take me to get Pokemon cards RIGHT NOW I am never going home."

I am not writing THAT in the cute things book...

Poke your what?

My kids have recently gotten "into" Pokemon cards. Apparently they are a hot commodity during the bus ride to and from school.

The five minute bus ride. I can't imagine that they have time to wrestle the enormous tins of cards out of their full-to-bursting backpacks, much less partake in any kind of serious bartering.

I am not clear at all on the valuation method the kids use to determine a "fair" trade. It all seems very arbitrary to me, but I guess as long as they are cool with the outcome and I don't have to develop any significant level of understanding or waste any of my few precious brain cells on this, I should just let it go.

I saw something in a magazine recently about making your own trading cards for kids. Cut their favorite characters out of magazines, or print them from the internet. Glue them on index cards, and voila, happiness will ensue.

I have to say that I think whoever wrote that is delusional. Or has extremely clueless children.

That would NEVER fly with my kids - or the neighbors' kids - or really, any actual cognizant child I have ever seen. They know the real deal and can be amazingly detailed in their requirements for specifics. Anyone who has tried (as I have, I never learn) to pass off cut-rate toys as the real deal knows I speak the truth here.

Do you see up there how very many Pokemon characters there are? And therefore how very many cards my children feel that they need to have? And don't even get me started on the Level X and whatever else there is that makes the HUGENORMOUS pile of cards they each have DRAMATICALLY deficient.

I have been tasked today with taking Tater's allowance (because I am not spending *my* money on these things...although I suppose the allowance came from *my* money...but I digress...) and finding him a Level X Torterra card. Because the Torterra card he already has isn't sparkle-y enough or something.

We were at Target on Tuesday afternoon to pick up some medicine and on the way to the pharmacy, we passed the trading card display. Both children began to dance and plead for cards, but Sprout gave it up pretty quickly when I told her she was welcome to bring her birthday or allowance money back and waste *ahem* I mean spend it to her hearts content on all the Pokemon cards she wanted.

However, Tater collapsed in a small boy shaped ball of misery on the floor and proceeded to whine, and beg, and cry and repeatedly chant "But I NEED them". I was strong, I did not cave. I did not float him a loan, although it would have been significantly less painful.

So yesterday afternoon, he wanted to go back with his money. But homework took forever. And today they have karate after school. And if I have to listen to the begging again, I may have to curl into my own mommy shaped ball of misery.

So here I am, off to Target in search of Torterra.

Unless I can find an index card and some glitter.

Compare and Contrast

It is amazing how different two children coming from the same parents and living in the same household can be.

Example:

Sprout keeps losing sweaters and sweatshirts at school. Apparently she gets hot, takes off her top layer and leaves it somewhere. I only realized this when I looked in her closet and there were NO sweatshirts left.

Upon questioning, she shrugged her shoulders and said she didn't know what happened to them. When I suggested perhaps checking the Lost and Found at school (preferably within a day or so of misplacing things) she was dumbfounded.

I had to walk her into the school and dig through the box myself. Uncovering 2 of the 3 lost sweatshirts. She seems utterly untroubled by the one that is still MIA.

Grrr.

In complete and total contrast, Tater left his sweatshirt on the bus today and within 5 minutes had dissolved into a sea of tears. Devastated. How would he EVER find his favorite sweatshirt??? How???

I called the school and, amidst the wailing and screams of great despair, got the number of the bus company. Fifteen minutes later we were in the car on our way to the bus garage (which, luckily is about 5 minutes away). We tromped around over there, found the office, and VOILA, sweatshirt. As a bonus, we also found our neighbor's lunchbox, which had also been left on the bus today.

How do we find the normal, middle-ground reaction here? Constructive concern, without freaking out?

It's a mystery to me.

Hey Tooth Fairy...I think you forgot something...

When my beautiful little Sprout was 5 and lost her first tooth, the Tooth Fairy brought her a very cute angel/fairy necklace to commemorate this big event. Special occasion, special gift.

Yesterday my darling little Tater lost his first tooth. Special occasion!! The Tooth Fairy, however, was, I think, a little stumped about what the male equivalent of an angel/fairy necklace was, and settled on an extra $1.

So this morning, eyes shining, Tater pulled his little Tooth Fairy bag out from under his pillow. He carefully read the note from the Fairy...he asked me to hold the little bundle of money, because "I think there is something special in there!" (Uh oh...)

He carefully unfolded the dollar...to find 4 quarters inside. And he looked at me, all big brown eyes and disappointment, and said, "That was nice...but Mommy, why didn't she bring me something special?"

Crap.

Can the Fairy revisit? Can she say "Sorry, I forgot to bring you this special thing"?? And what would that special thing be??? For a boy...a cute and sweet boy...raised in a house where we try not to draw a lot of lines between what girls do and what boys do...although I think angel/fairy jewelry of any kind pretty much falls on the girl side of any scale you draw...

I think the Fairy is still working on it...sweating it a bit, I think...Perhaps she will find something special for the second tooth...

UPDATE: Interestingly, the Tooth Fairy apparently left a airplane watch inside Tater's pillow case. We didn't find it until last night (two days later). I wonder how long it was in there...hmmm... :)

Smile!

Tomorrow is picture day at school. The big day when we try to spiff the kids up and hope they are in a good mood so that we get pictures worthy of display for the year.

I am not a big fan of the current system where you have to commit to the pictures you are going to purchase before they are even taken. If they are awful, I don't think I need the full package. I don't actually need the full package regardless of how stunning the pictures are. What I am going to do with 18 (!) 1 X 2 inch pictures of each child? Make stamps?

Poor Sprout had her palate expander installed today. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this piece of orthodontia (like myself until a few months ago), this is a contraption that is bolted to the roof of her mouth that will s...t...r...e...t...c...h her upper jaw over the next month so that all of her teeth eventually fit in her newly expanded mouth.

Apparently 3 weeks from now she is likely to have an enormous gap between her front teeth.
So I am glad the pictures are pre-expansion.

However, there is a bit of a drooling/slurping situation going on. Apparently it is difficult to swallow quietly and/or neatly with a metal device strapped into your face. So I am hoping she is able to smile normally and not slobbering all over herself in the picture.

Tater, on the other hand, has a lovely smile. However, he tends to look entirely freaked out in portraits. I don't know if he is scared of the photographers, or if he is concentrating so hard on smiling that he freezes up.

He also opted out of a pre-picture haircut. Which, in my opinion, was a questionable decision. But he said that if we just use "his spray" and he doesn't mess with it, he should be OK.

Don't even get me started on wardrobe decisions. I am hoping they are out of it in the morning when I thrust outfits at them, and that they don't question what they are given to wear. Sprout has been begging to wear the vest that Tater wore for his dance recital 2 years ago (gold brocade) to school. Tomorrow just might be the day that she decides it is finally show time...

I am on the edge of my seat to see how this all turns out.

Not a Talent

Apparently I am not meant to be a cake decorator.

My son, bless his little heart, has far more faith in my artistic abilities than I deserve. So when I asked him what we should do to celebrate the first day of school, he suggested a cake. And that we should make it. And that I could draw the school mascot, a panther, on it (!)

So - that cat-ish looking thing in the upper left is my interpretation of a panther. Tater actually drew one for me so that I would have something to copy. And the icing wasn't all that cooperative. So that is a wavy icing translation of a 6-year-old's depiction of a panther.

You can't tell from the picture, but the cake also was significantly higher in the middle than on the edges. Does anyone know how to avoid that? (Besides slicing the higher part off...)

Anyway - it was yummy. And it is back-to-school eve!

Just Beachy

We are at the beach. On the border of Avalon and Stone Harbor. Technically Avalon, but much closer to downtown Stone Harbor.

Yesterday the kids went swimming in the pool at our condo. Then we went out for pizza, miniature golf, and ice cream. All the good beach stuff!

Tater has had his heart set on a hermit crab since our Ocean City adventure last week. He brought some of his birthday money specifically for this purpose. Scoped out the 5 & 10 last night to make sure they had them.

When I told him we could go back today to get the crab, he suggested that we could get up to see the sun rise, and then trot right on over to pick up the crab. The reality was that we went after the beach, the pool, and lunch.

He picked out one in a blue shell and got three extra shells: one painted to look like a soccer ball, one with a skull and crossbones, and an understated natural tan (for formal occasions, I guess).

He didn't have a name picked out. Wanted to "meet" the crab before deciding. The final verdict is that he is Hermie. Never was a little boy happier than Tater bringing Hermie home.

I think it might all be downhill from here.

Not really, we have lots of big plans - including two beach crafts. I'll keep you posted!

Ready...

Today was devoted to shopping for school supplies.

I read something that said that the average family spends $500 PER CHILD on back to school.

I don't have that kind of cash at the moment, so I was very adamant that we were going to stick to the list provided by the teachers.

The only school-supply related tangential purchase was some extraordinarily cool paper clips that I had to have. They are shaped like little musical instruments, and hands and feet. I mean, you HAVE to have those, right?

There is a big bulk-candy-like thing at Staples, $5.99 for all you can fit into a butter-tub like container. I was careful to shove a LOT in there. Still probably not $5.99 worth, but they were too fun. And at least sort of practical. Sort of.

Of course Sprout and Tater both needed new underwear, and a shirt or two. Tater needs new pants, but since he tends to grow about 2 inches every time I purchase pants for him (some growth-inducing effect in the fabric?), I am waiting until the weather justifies long pants before going down that road.

The trickiest thing to find was pens with multiple colors inside them. Sprout was SO excited that her teacher required these - because, how cool does that teacher have to be??

We got out the label maker and labeled anything that could fit a label. Tater wanted to label his pencils and erasers, but that seemed a bit much.

So now everything is packed away in the backpacks waiting for the first day of school.

12 days.

Not that I am counting.