Fruit Salad Chronicles

True Story

2012-02-15T11:08:00.000-05:00

Playgroup went ice skating earlier this month. I was a little nervous about taking them myself. Lacing up all those tiny skates. Only having 2 hands that need to hold 6 hands. Turns out, I shouldn't have worried so much.

True, A cried as soon as her skates hit the ice. True, I had no idea why. True, the crying went on for 9 minutes. True, nothing I said or did helped. True, a strange man told me to put her in the penalty box. True, I daydreamed about tripping said strange man for the next 30 minutes.

But it's also true that M and S took off without me and never looked back.

Ugh, sometimes the truth hurts.

Looking for Inner Peace

2012-02-09T15:25:00.001-05:00

Last Monday, I was ill-equipped to catch the everyday crap that 3 almost 5 year olds can sling at you. I was a grumpy mommy. So grumpy that I threw a makeup case to the floor of the car. A told me I should never throw things out of frustration.

Noted. Way ahead of you.

In the interest of full disclosure, we were in the parking lot of the library, waiting to go into a preschool yoga class.

Namaste.

So pretty?

2012-02-03T14:37:00.000-05:00

S is quite beautiful. Straight blond hair, blue eyes, button nose, pink lips always in a smile. Don't take my word for it though. Just look . . . .

Wait. Sorry. Wrong picture.

Here we go. That's better.

Pre-K Pride

2012-02-01T15:07:00.003-05:00

Several weeks ago, the Salad's school had parent/teacher conferences. We got good reviews on all 3, though with a mention that Ms. Robyn still finds S staring longingly at the picture of R and I that she keeps in her back pack and tells her that "she likes school, but she'd rather be at home with Mommy."

I mentioned to Ms. Robyn my only concern was that I have heard from A that there are several little girls who are very exclusionary in their play. They will only let 3 girls play. No boys allowed. You can't play with us today kind of play.

We have a strict "You can't say you can't play" rule in our house. Everyone who wants to play, gets to play. If there is an argument about what to play, I still give them words to find a compromise. When A comes home telling me these stories, we play act what she should say the next time.

This hard, awkward work seems to be paying off, because Ms. Robyn paid R and I the highest compliment. She said she knew just who the girls were. She said they have been working with the whole class on "filling up each other's hearts." She said she was particularly sad that A felt that way, because she uses A as an example to the other kids. She told us that A uses the right words, "compromise" and "include". That she's a positive leader in the class.

I couldn't have been more proud.

Keep up the good work, sweet girl.

Anatomy of 2 Playdates

2012-01-24T16:18:00.002-05:00

M had a playdate at Brett's house on Tuesday.

My SIL called to see if we'd be interested in a playdate, with my 2 nieces, at our house on Tuesday.

And thus 2 playdates were born. It was an interesting experiment for me. I got to see first hand how innately different boys and girls are. I will list the events that occurred at each playdate and you can decide for yourself - was it the boys' playdate or the girls' playdate?

Playdate 1, with descriptions of event, straight from the children's mouths.
1. We played with Nerf guns and tarts. (I think this child meant darts.)
2. We played on the swing set and saw dog poop!
3. We played with army guys.
4. We ate peanut butter and fluff sandwiches, lots and lots of Oreos, a Popsicle and 1 gumball.
5. We dressed up as ninjas and Transformers, then rode on the firetruck.
6. We played birds, and jumped off the couches.

Playdate 2, with descriptions of event, straight from the children's mouths.
1. We ate pasta and grapes for lunch.
2. We used makeup, but not any nail polish.
3. We made necklaces with the squishy beads.
4. We decorated 2 chocolate chip cookies with pink and red and white sprinkles and hearts.
5. We played "Angelina Ballerina" and did ballet.
6. We had a pretend birthday party.

The Dangers of Mini Golf

2012-01-22T19:45:00.000-05:00

The first week of January was lonely for me, with R back to work and the Salad back to school. It was like starting from scratch all over again. I thought if I was feeling down in the dumps, the Salad must be too. So I picked up my mom, drove to their school, scooped them up 30 minutes early and took everyone to Linvilla Orchards. They had just opened an indoor miniature golf course that I wanted to check out, to see if it might be a fun spot for their birthday party in February.

Once again, we were the only people there*. We took our time on the very age appropriate course and each one of us got at least 1 hole-in-one. Though, as we played through, I heard myself saying the same things, over and over. "Don't stand on the green when someone else is hitting their ball." "Please stand back when someone else is swinging their club." "Please stop swinging your club around so violently."

I realized towards the end, it's a cute way to spend an afternoon. But a birthday party? With 24 kids under 7? Swinging clubs? Golf balls flying through the air?

Accident waiting to happen, people. Accident waiting to happen.

*However will I avoid crowds when the Salad is in school full time?

The 13th Post on this Blog in which I talk about Poop

2012-01-20T14:11:00.001-05:00

The weather called for the high 50s last Tuesday. I know I keep saying it, but it is January. It should be like 30. Ms. Amy and I both jumped on the chance to be outside again and brought our babes to the Zoo.

It was mostly a good day, even if the carousel, train and "Goose Floats" (A's name for the Swan Boats) were all closed for the winter. Though, there were several fights among my Salad about who got to push whom in the stroller that Ms. Amy brought along. The irony of the Salad loving strollers now that I don't need them anymore is not lost on this mama. That's off the subject though. The subject of this post is poop.

I wanted to study the polar bears, since we've been talking about animals that have blubber. I had an experiment in mind for when we got home. We were going to stick our bare hand in freezing water and see how long we could keep it there, then we'd cover our hands in Crisco and gloves and then submerge our hands again to see if our "blubber" helped keep us warm. But the bears were just laying around and the pull of poop is too strong for a 4 year old. Hence, the following excerpts from our day.

"Hahahahaha! That rhino just peed! And now it's going to walk through it's own poop! Hahahaha!"

"If we brush this goat's tail, do you think it will poop on us?"

"The tractor doesn't work 'cause of all the pigeon poop."

"Mommy, is that poop floating in the pig-nosed turtle water?"

"Once, I saw a giraffe poop right here."

See that picture up there? It's M, most likely pointing to poop.

The Gorge of Eternal Peril

2012-01-18T16:38:00.001-05:00

We live in an area that, at times, has extreme weather. July occasionally will reach the 100s. February will see us waist deep in snowy blizzards. Heck, we even had an earthquake this summer. And a hurricane. Come to think of it, maybe those Mayans are right on with the whole Apocalypse thing.

Anyway, this is just a long introduction to our playgroup last week. It was springtime weather here, even though it's January. So we headed to the Tyler Arboretum. We ran in fields, climbed trees till we got splinters in our little hands, experimented with throwing big versus small stones in the pond, ran with sticks, explored a spring house and in general, had a perfect day. Well . . . minus the splinters.

Almost 2 years ago, the Salad and I explored the Arboretum for the first time together. We stumbled upon a troll bridge display, complete with hidden speakers croaking out an old troll's warning about crossing the bridge. You'd better believe me when I tell you it traumatized the Salad. We've been to the Arboretum maybe 20 times since then and never once have ventured to that area again. They often point to the left as soon as we enter and say "Not that way. Not near that troll bridge."

But on this day, we had friends along who made us feel brave. We went left, towards the bridge. M and Peter gallantly said they would cross the bridge first, to ensure the lady folk safety. They faltered just long enough at the foot of the bridge to allow baby Thomas (not knowing of the horrors that lay in wait) to pass. Once he was headed across, the other 2 boys tentatively followed suit. The girls (A, S and Lucy) acquiesced to crossing once they saw the boys had made it across unscathed, only if they were holding my hands. We crossed slowly, with many a whimper of the bridge being "too slippery", "too troll-y" and "too grumpy." But we made it across.

Monty Python would have been proud.

"What is your name?
What is your quest?
What is you favorite color?"

Un / Fortunately

2012-01-16T13:56:00.000-05:00

The Salad had a short hiatus from school the week between Christmas and New Year. Plus, R took the week off from work. So, if the Salad were late sleepers, that week would have been the week to sleep late. Unfortunately, M is an early riser. "Early" as in, as soon as he sees the sky turn light in the 1/4" gap between sill and shade on his window, he's up and at 'em. Or shall I say, up and at me?

Since daylight savings time, we've been working on teaching him to lay quietly in bed until the small hand of his wall clock is on the 7. He's been doing an excellent job, too. During our "vacation" we got to sleep in until 7:02 AM every morning!

The next week, it was back to reality. I was out of practice though, and made the grave mistake of hitting my alarm off and rolling over on the Salad's first day back to school. Fortunately, M is an early riser and crept into my room at 7:06 AM to quietly whisper in my ear, "Mommy, don't we have to get ready for school?"

Good thing one of us is responsible.

Tearing it up

2012-01-14T19:57:00.001-05:00

R has torn patella tendons in both knees. He should have had them operated on years ago. Instead, he runs a few times a week, plays hockey, soccer and football on them. I fear what's going to do them in though are the new scooters that Santa bought the Salad. Every time we take a scooter ride around the block, R grabs one of the scooters and takes off, under the guise that he wants to show them "how to coast." But each time he loses control of the scooter and winds up flat on his back with the Salad hovering around asking if he has any boo-boos and me kneeling a few feet away, trying hard not to let anyone see I'm in hysterics.

"He ruptured his tendon in a horrific scooter accident. Yes, Doctor, I said scooter. A Razor scooter."

The Giant Slide of Danger!

2012-01-13T14:40:00.000-05:00

Sculpture on Swarthmore College's campus, aptly named by S. We had an important lesson here this day. Art is meant to be looked at, touched, enjoyed, slid down over and over.

Oh? It's not?

Well then, I guess I'll be sure to hold off on the Philadelphia Museum of Art for while.

a Brother, a Sister, a Salt Dough Maker

2012-01-09T10:20:00.000-05:00

I gave the Salad a list of 4 ingredients, along with measuring cups and told them to work together to follow the recipe to make salt dough. Each time one would ask me for help with a measurement or a word, I would refer them to a brother or sister. 3 heads are better than 1, I always say. OK. I never had said that before that day. And I haven't said it since. But rest assured, I said it that day many times. After about 30 minutes, they got the proper ingredients in the proper measurements and kneaded the salt dough to death. It got crazy up in there. See?

The reason for the Season?

2012-01-04T11:28:00.000-05:00

There is a house in a neighborhood close to ours that is one of those houses. The kind that goes way overboard on the Christmas decorations. Of course, the Salad loves that over the top holiday spirit. I prefer the more subtle holiday decor, but I submitted to colored lights on the tree this year. You gotta give a little to get a little, you know?

Anyway, the point of this story is not our decorations, but this other houses'. It has at least 40 of those giant inflatable deals, you know the kind - Santa landing on the roof in a helicopter, a reindeer on a Ferris wheel, Frosty the Snowman riding on a motorcycle. Not to mention the lights strung from the eaves of the house, the LED Christmas trees lining the walkway, the 8 foot long Happy Holidays banner strung over the driveway. Along with gobs and gobs of super size candy canes, abominable snowmen, misfit toys and Mrs. Claus'. They play music through speakers on the lawn.

But the thing that cracks me up is that in the very corner of the house, almost on the next door neighbor's yard, there is a small nativity scene, with a teeny tiny baby Jesus. It looks like an afterthought.

Happy Birthday, baby Jesus!

Happy New Year!

2012-01-01T14:30:00.000-05:00

Moo-sic to my ears

2011-12-29T21:15:00.003-05:00

I heard the Salad chanting the other day.

A: What do the cows say?
M & S: Moo! Moo! Moo!

A: What do the cows eat?
M & S: Grass! Grass! Grass!

A: What do the cows leak?
M & S: Milk! Milk! Milk!

I whispered to myself: Weird? Yes! Yes! Yes!

Kids say the darndest . . . well, you know

2011-12-28T14:57:00.002-05:00

This Christmas season has been a veritable feast of "almost right, but not quites."

There will never come a time, that I will correct a little boy who sings "Skink! Skank! Skunk!" rather than the traditional "Stink! Stank! Stunk!" version of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch." Even when he is in high school. Even if "skank" offends some hoochie mama. 'Cause it's just funny.

Though, M's favorite Christmas song is Lou Monte's "Dominick the Donkey." I know because we listened to it so many times. I have submitted a screenshot of our iTunes playlist as evidence.

The other morning, during a confusing discussion of why we celebrate Baby Jesus' birthday if he is dead, A wondered what "Gold, Frankenstein and Myrrh" were. I explained it's a precious metal, a doctor who accidentally created a horrible monster and an aromatic oil. What? I answered the girl's question. Didn't I?

S got it in her head that she wanted to recite the first 3 pages of "Twas the Night before Christmas" during our Christmas Eve reading. She got quite a bit almost right, for example, "The stockings were hung by the chimney with care and I hope St. Nicholas is gonna come soon." But when she carefully recited "The children were nestled all snug in their beds, while pigeons and sugar plums danced in their heads" I wondered if the hearing loss in her right ear is having a bigger affect than we all think. Or maybe pigeons really dance through her dreams. Who am I to say otherwise?

You've got Mail

2011-12-12T21:47:00.003-05:00

On Mon, Nov 28, 2011 at 7:13 PM
Subject: For Peter

To Peter, from M
Is this the kind of snake we saw

or is this?

I think it is this one, because it's greenish and has nut* eyes, like Ms. Amy said.

PS - Oh man! I forgot to give Peter and Lucy the homemade walkie talkies we made this morning!

* He definitely said "nut eyes." Oh, I tried to change his mind about that word. Do you mean brown eyes? No, he said. Nut eyes. Do you think she said round eyes? No. Ms. Amy said nut eyes. Resignedly, I wrote "nut eyes", followed up by an email to Ms. Amy.

On Mon, Nov 28, 2011 8:39 pm

Subject: Follow Up

Hey Amy,

Also, I am wondering what got lost in the translation about the snake's eyes? "Nut eyes" I know can't be what you said, can it?

A

On Tue, Nov 29, 2011 7:17 am
Subject: Re: Follow Up

Hi A,
M's closer than you'd think about the "nut eyes." Venomous snakes have almond-shaped pupils; regular snakes have round pupils. Of course, if you get close enough to a snake to see his pupils, you'd better hope they're round.
Amy

On Tue, Nov 29, 2011 8:20 am

Subject: Re: For Peter

M,
It's the first snake. Because it is thin. How you make the walkie talkies? You can come over for a playdate someday? I love you.

peter

Treasure Hunt

2011-12-10T10:04:00.001-05:00

We explored a new park with friends the last Monday in November. It was so close to the end of November that I'm calling it December for the sake of "Can you believe it was 70 degrees outside!?!" It was warm enough that as soon as we saw a stream, off came the shoes and socks and in went the kids. I suggested this park for three reasons:

1. It's close to home.

2. Our favorite waitress told us there were lots of frogs.

3. There are 3 geocaches, hidden throughout the trees.

The kids played hard. They found a beautiful, green 8 foot long length of bamboo. I'll be darned if M and Peter with a little help from one of the girls at the end, didn't carry that bamboo from a small island to the "mainland" while balancing themselves on a log, fallen over the stream. I'll note here that Peter spotted a snake on the small island. M had made it to the mainland already, but when he heard that news, he scurried back across the island to see said snake. Ms. Amy scurried right behind, to be sure the snake wasn't poisonous. Be on the look out for a follow up post, including a detailed discussion over email between 2 preschool boys.

We ate snacks in the woods. We made a see-saw from a fallen tree. We climbed the steepest hill ever. We slid down the steepest hill ever on our bottoms. We dangled precariously over a bridge. Some of us may have peed on a tree, while the rest giggled with delight and curiosity on the other side of the tree.

We never did find those frogs or those geocaches. But there were so many parts of the day that more than made up for it, that as we drove away A said, "That's OK we didn't treasure hunt. That just means we can go back another day!" Note to self - when we do go back (and we most certainly will) bring a GPS.

Sew what?

2011-12-04T22:15:00.000-05:00

I handed M button up jammies to put on before bed the other night and then left the room to throw in a load of wash. When I came back, he had buttoned up the shirt but I could see the buttons and holes were not properly aligned. I didn't mention it, 'cause I didn't want to discourage him and it was only off by 1 hole anyway. He was staring down at the shirt, clearly he could tell something was wrong, but couldn't figure out exactly what. "Mommy," he said thoughtfully, "could you ask Meglet to add a button up here and a hole down here? It looks like there aren't enough!" I was proud of him for his problem solving skills, and also embarrassed that even he, at such a tender age, knows my limitations when it comes to sewing.

Thank God for Meglet.

PS - Meglet? A needs you to sew a seam of her quilt. Thanks in advance.

Matthew 19:14

2011-12-01T20:44:00.001-05:00

Several weeks ago we were invited to watch baby Thomas get baptized. The kids were thrilled at the prospect of seeing Thomas' head get dunked under water. They asked many curious questions. Will he cry when he gets "drowned"? What are they going to do to him with all those candles? (It was a co-baptism with several other children being christened in one ceremony). Why can't I be wearing no sleeves on my dress like Lucy? Does this mean he's a member of the Church now? Can we go eat some glitter cake?

So yeah. I think the Salad got all the main points of the sacrament . . . water, candle, member of Church, cake. Yep. That about sums it up.

What's grosser than gross?

2011-11-27T21:52:00.000-05:00

Ms. Amy asked if we were available to play one fair-weathered Tuesday. We knew we wanted to be outside. First, we tried to find the model airplanes at Valley Forge, but they weren't flying that day. Then we tried to watch the planes land at Wings Field while we ate a picnic lunch, but the airfield is under construction. Ms. Amy had a stroke of genius when she realized how close we were to Morris Arboretum! So we headed there and it was the perfect move. Lots of climbing and exploring and splashing in fountains and make believe barbecues with our friends. I didn't have to break up one fight or hear one unkind word. I love days like that. If I'm being honest, though, there were 2 things I wish hadn't happened. Nothing very bad . . . just gross.

1. We found a stream and immediately the 4 - 4 year olds, 1- 3 year old and 1 - 1 year old wanted to dip their tootsies. It was almost 70 degrees and November, how could we say no? Shoes were thrown, socks were stripped, pants hiked up and in went 12 little feet. Here's the thing though. It still was November in the Northeast. So even though, the air was warm, the water was not. And S couldn't hold it together anymore. As soon as her big toe touched that ice cold water, she peed her pants. "Just a little! I still gotta go, Mommy! Run me to a bathroom!" I scooped her up in my arms, barefoot and soaked, yelled to Ms. Amy to watch my other 2 bathing beauties and took off running to a bathroom. By the time I found one, S told me she no longer had to go. For she had already gone. On my shirt.

2. We stopped to eat lunch at a gazebo overlooking a gently sloping hill. After we ate, the kids ran off to experiment with 4 different types of flying machines that the Salad and I had brought along for everybody. Once we were through with those, the kiddos took to the hills, throwing themselves down with reckless abandon. Gathering speed and bowling each other over like pins in an alley. They laughed and shouted and rolled over and over. Right through goose poop.

On the drive home, I realized it was just another day that I somehow wound up with one or all of us covered in poop and pee. I guess it could be worse . . . or maybe not.

Too close for comfort.

2011-11-26T18:09:00.003-05:00

The third day of school, S came home and told me that she had invited a girl named Gina to our birthday party. It mattered not to S that it was September, that her birthday isn't until February and that we don't have an official party planned.

She told me she had given Gina directions to our house. I asked her to recount those directions and here were her exact words,

"Turn out of the school driveway and head down toward the Blue Route. Turn this way (motioning right) until you pass the police station. Turn this way (motioning left) until you see our neighborhood. Turn into our neighborhood and when you see our van in the driveway, you are here!"

Pretty close, pretty darn close, little lady.

October Collage

2011-11-25T13:57:00.001-05:00

* While R was away for work, the Salad and I visited Pumpkinland at Linvilla with Jeba, Dave, their 2 funny girls and the rest of Southeastern PA. At lunch, Jeba commented on how independent the Salad was. Seth's mom mentioned it to me the day before. And while I love that they are independent it makes me wonder if it's a trait they have learned out of necessity. You know, "No, M! I'm watching S try to untangle herself from that extension cord! You'll have to slice your own apple!"

* We had a sleep over at Aunt Jo's to pass the time while R was in Las Vegas. Aunt Jo and Uncle Pat thought they'd surprise the Salad with a bonfire to roast marshmellows. A and M thought it was the best thing since sliced bread, S was petrified - hiding behind patio furniture, waving her marshmellow at the fire shouting, "Turn it off!" Also of note, they have a dog. Their dog loves eating socks. He proved this by sneaking into my bedroom and scarfing down S's purple sock while I was in the bathroom. Thankfully, the Salad has tiny socks, ifyouknowhatImean.

* Ms. Amy sent this link to M, 'cause she thought he'd like to decorate his pumpkin with hardware. The boy likes his tools. He thought it was awesomely "cool." His turned out a bit more like something from a horror movie, but that's OK because it is Halloween and all.

* I turned our sensory rice bin into a Halloween bin of fright, full of Mr. Potatohead body parts and rubber bugs.

* R and I went to the Fall Festival at the Salad's preschool. They loved showing us around the playground, saying hello to all their friends, talking to their teachers. I loved seeing the Salad take ownership of their school. They seemed so . . . proud.

* It was an unseasonably mild fall, so we spent a lot of time outdoors - biking with our friends, riding draft horses at the Zoo, climbing tree houses at Tyler Arboretum, and exploring Valley Forge park to find the Signal Seekers with Poppy, Grammy and Ian.

* We went to a Halloween Parade in Media. Girl Scout troops, dance squads and firemen threw tons of candy to the Salad. M is very observant and shouted at the Boy Scout who paused throwing for a minute to munch on a Snickers that "He's supposed to be throwing the candy, not eating the candy." 4 year olds really hold you accountable, I tell ya.

* Ms. Carol hosted playgroup's Halloween party this year, complete with glow in the dark chalk, a black light room, and magic potion to drink. We were sent home with glow in the dark scorpions, which twice now I have stumbled upon glowing in the bottom of the Salad's closet. Dang it if they don't get me every time.

Thanks and Giving

2011-11-24T09:30:00.001-05:00

My sweet little family has so much to be thankful for. We have great friends, amazing family, and a hardworking daddy who enables me to stay home to play with my cute Salad. We have a beautiful house, a swing set in a big yard and lots of fun toys. Many days we live an idyllic life. And I want the Salad to know. So in this month of November, we've been talking about how we have so much and there are other kids who don't have as much, some adults who don't have anything, some people who work hard and deserve thanks. So we started 4 weeks of Thanks and Giving. Each week in November, the Salad donated something to someone who was in need or deserved thanks.

The first week, we brought our Halloween candy (not all of it!) to a local dentist who sends it to our hardworking troops. M was beyond excited that we were sending something to "real army guys". In exchange, the dentist gave them new toothbrushes, which they used to clean the tires of my van. It made me thankful for my 3 person army of willing helpers.

Week two found us sorting our toys and gathering a big bin of them to donate to our library. We adore our super cute, super spunky librarian Ms. Julianne. This week, when we went to story time, the Salad was amazed that we got to "visit" with our old toys. I am grateful for a fantastic local library system that has provided hours of free enjoyment for the last 3 years.

The third week of November, we gathered a huge bag of non perishable food for a boy scout troop collecting food for a local food bank. Even though I had explained who the food was for, I heard M say to the girls, "The boy scouts just came to pick up the food for the peoples who don't like to go to the grocery store!" I am thankful for a husband who likes to grocery shop as a family, even though I say I'd rather do it alone.

This last week of November will find us donating our old winter coats to Greater Philadelphia Cares. I chose that charity in honor of an old friend who passed away 3 years ago, who gave her time to this noble cause. I am thankful for friends, new and old.

Who is that in the hat?

2011-11-21T17:15:00.001-05:00

I love the fall in the northeast. The season makes the scorching summers and blizzardy winters worth living here. I won't do it justice in words. There's a crispness you feel when you first open the door in the morning. I spend the days pointing out red trees that inspire me to repaint rooms in our house. Orange trees that look perfect against the blue skies. Yellow trees that look like they are on fire. There's a distinct smell of burning leaves most evenings. The stars always seem more clear.

This fall the weather was particularly gorgeous, perhaps trying to make up for short changing our summer vacation with a hurricane? I digress.

One beautiful Monday in November, Daddy stayed home from work. We decided to hike Newlin Grist Mill. Perfect scenery. Sweatshirt and jeans weather. Well-behaved Salad. Throw Daddy in the mix and it stands out as one of my most favorite days ever.

Wait! Is that R? In a picture? On my blog? See? He exists. And he's around quite a bit. But he's camera shy, people. And if I showed his face on the blog, I'd have to kill you. Kidding. Kidding. Kinda.

Anyway, we hunted for frogs, tried to catch tadpoles with our bare hands, threw stuff over the waterfall to see where it would end up, watched the fish literally jump out of the water to eat the bread we were throwing to the ducks, climbed trees, skipped rocks and waded in the water.

In what could have been a sad ending to the day, M slipped on wet rocks, fell into ice cold water and bumped his bottom on the way down. Luckily, I foresaw just such a thing happening and had brought along a change of clothes for each of them. Problem diverted. Whew.

Bedtime for Bozos

2011-11-18T21:23:00.001-05:00

M has a sweet soul. He calls me back into the room multiple times after our good night routine of books, prayers, rousing rendition of "I've been Working on the Railroad", tuck ins and kisses. He doesn't want water. He doesn't want to use the bathroom. He wants "one more kiss and hug, because he just loves my kisses and hugs the best." Usually as I am pulling the door closed after this round of kisses and hugs, he says quickly "Mommy? Best friends forever."

The thought that a day will come that I don't hear those sweet words makes me panicky. That very thought gives me the same physical sensation you get when you realize you've misplaced a kid, or that cut may actually need stitches. You know that feeling? A little light-headed, giant lump in your throat, tightening of stomach muscles, weak knees? You feel that too, right? Don't you?

That last paragraph may be my cry for help.

Halloween 5.0

2011-11-17T12:00:00.002-05:00

Every year Halloween gets a little easier. This year, we actually made it to more than 6 houses. Though, if I had my way we would have visited our 6 neighbors that we know and gone home to root through our loot. But, we have new friends that have moved in up the street and we walked with them. And they have an 8 year old who knows the finer points of trick or treating.

1. Move fast.
2. Hit as many houses as you can.

So we made it to about 20 houses. But that wasn't the only difference. No one complained about their costumes. No one asked me to carry them. No one was nervous about the dark. Until we came upon a house with a graveyard on the lawn, smoke rising from a cauldron and a mechanical zombie writhing on the driveway. That set us back a bit.

But they gathered up their courage and pressed on. Big Salad.

M whispered to me before bed on Halloween that next year, he'd like to be a STOP sign.

If I start working on it now, can I convince my girls to be YIELD and RAILROAD CROSSING signs?

Tie dye edition

2011-11-15T19:51:00.000-05:00

Several weeks ago, the weather finally cooperated and I was able to invite our playgroup over to tie dye some clothes. I spread out cardboard on the lawn and gathered supplies before our guests arrived. Thankfully, the families staggered in and there wasn't a mad rush on the the 13 bottles of dye.

The lures of the swing set and dirt to dig in was strong, so as soon as my Salad was through dyeing their shirts and socks, they ran off to play with their friends. There was an impromptu pomegranate and veggie straw party in the clubhouse and a high energy Frisbee game on the front lawn. There were tongue tattoos and a perfectly timed street sweeper drive-by.

As we were saying our good byes, I heard this conversation between Colin and A. Though, A was sitting on the ground, drawing hearts with Peter, seemingly not hearing what Colin was saying.

"A, I really like you. I had fun playing with you today. Remember my name. Here. Let's have a hug, OK?" She must have been listening though, because she dutifully stood up with outstretched arms for that hug. But poor Peter's finger got stomped on in the throes of 4 year old passion.

Even in the great outdoors, there's not enough room for 3 sets of triplets and a family with 3 children under 4.

Better late than never

2011-11-11T13:53:00.000-05:00

Original Post written on September 26, 2011

It was beautiful late summer / early fall day. Grammy called just after 8:00 AM with excellent news. She and Poppy both had the day off! It hardly ever happens that way, so we quickly formulated a plan to visit the Academy of Natural Sciences. It had been a while since the Salad had visited and our love of all things Dinosaur grows stronger each day.

I knew it was going to be a great day when we found a metered parking space right outside the front door of the museum. Score!

We spent the majority of our time in the children's section of the museum. We were the only visitors at the time, so we got a lot of individual attention. We got to pet the giant rabbit as many times as we wanted, the volunteer helped the Salad do a scavenger hunt, they brought the special baby centipedes out from the back for us to meet, we held the GIANT Madagascar hissing cockroach. When I say "we" here I mean the Salad. I choose not to hold the bugs. I didn't let them see me squirm when they held them either. Not even when S pointed out the teeny tiny mites on the back of the cockroach.

When lunch time rolled around, A asked if we could eat outside. One of the best things about the museum is it's location. Right off Logan Circle, facing the Art Museum, the Franklin Institute, the Free Library of Philadelphia, the historic Basilica of Sts. Peter and Paul, next door to Moore College of Art and Design. I couldn't ask for better scenery to teach the Salad a little about the City of Brotherly Love while we munched sandwiches and grapes by Swann Memorial Fountain.

We dipped our hands in the cool water and fed bits of PB&J to pigeons. We threw pennies and made wishes.

The nicest thing about having Grammy and Poppy along was that there were extra hands to hold when the Salad asked if they could walk around the whole fountain on the ledge, so I didn't have to worry about one of them tumbling into the water. Well, I didn't worry too much.

As a side note, crossing the Benjamin Franklin Parkway here is absolutely treacherous. You wait for the light to flash to the people walking signal and then IMMEDIATELY it gives you 15 seconds to get across the street. It doesn't care of you have 3 small children mesmerized by the fountain, or the smoke rising from the cathedral, or the lunch truck full of potato chips!

Focus, Salad! Focus!

Birds vs. Bees

2011-11-05T13:33:00.003-04:00

As much as I like to think R and I are raising daughters who have had ample opportunity to play with "boy" toys and even more so gender neutral toys, somewhere around the age of 3, they found pink and princesses and all things "sugar and spice" and never looked back. Though, my girls still like to get dirty and will hold any bug they happen upon, they would choose a skirt over pants any day of the week. I think (and I am by no means an expert) that girls tend to be a bit more outgoing and social and so make friends more easily than boys. I have heard a conversation that goes something like this more than 5 times in the last month alone.

A or S: "Hi! My name is (insert name here)!
New girl: "Hi!"
A or S: "Do you like ballerinas/unicorns/fairies?"
New girl: "Yes!"
A or S: "Do you want to be best friends?"
New girl: "OK!" and they run off holding hands

Boys on the other hand (at least my boy) don't seem to realize that you can ask another little person something to start a conversation. M kinda sits near another boy at school, builds blocks near him and without making eye contact may add a new building to the other kid's city.

But occasionally, I will catch a sweet moment between M and another boy Like at Jazzy, Melyssa and Melodee's 5th birthday party. I saw Peter and M, heads together, feeding the giant goldfish cookie crumbs (with Miss Danette's permission) and giggling over the color of fish poop.

"Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails" indeed.

Words I heard.

2011-10-30T19:50:00.000-04:00

A : Mommy, I banged my chin on S's bottom!

M: Mommy, I just love your hugs and kisses. (accompanied by exaggerated puckered lips.)

S: Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight. I wish Daddy could come home right now from his trip (to Las Vegas. For his birthday. With his buddies. . . OK. I jest. To Las Vegas. For "work." With his "co-workers.")

M: Mommy! Look! I love my Captain America undies! He's throwing a Frisbee!

A: Look! Angry birds! (pointing to two kids wearing Angry Birds costumes at the Halloween Parade)
Me: A, how do you know they are angry birds? (I was confused because we are not an Apple house)
A: 'Cause they are birds. And they have angry eyes? (In her head that was followed by "Duh, Mom".)

Playdough Playdate

2011-10-27T19:52:00.000-04:00

This past winter, after a 5 day bout with The Stomach Virus From Hell, I brought the Salad into the bathroom for a little craft project. Some of them still looked a bit peckish and I wanted them close to the toilet, should the need arise. So I covered the floors in plastic bags, lined up bottles of dye and told them to have at some white shirts. When they were through, we had some dye left over. I lined the bottles up on the desk, next to our computer, in the preschool room. There they have stayed for the last 8 months. Out in the open. Exposed to the Salad. And yet, by some miracle, they haven't been touched. No mysterious magenta stains have shown up. No little hands covered in green dye. Thanks, Salad. You guys are the best.

Ok. Back to my story. Last week, I decided I was tempting fate leaving them there much longer and invited our playgroup over for a tie dye party. The weather has been glorious and I thought we'd do it on the lawn. But of course Wednesday rolled around and it rained, so I had to make some quick changes. 4 different types of homemade playdough. I printed out the recipes and Grammy pre-measured the ingredients. We plopped down at the kitchen table, put a tray of ingredients and a mixing bowl in front of a group of 3 kids and told them to go to town. It kept them happy and occupied for 30 minutes. But it was not pretty. In fact, it was down right ugly. Though it smelled amazing, as one of the recipes called for 3.5 cups of peanut butter.

In retrospect, indoor tie dye may have been less messy. Oh well . . . hindsight and all.

Nothing says "I love you" like a Fire.

2011-10-24T21:30:00.000-04:00

After a crazy busy day of gymnastics, a playdate with Seth at Linvilla and a surprise Grammy visit, we relaxed by our chiminea on Friday night. I surprised the Salad by starting the fire on our porch, giving them marshmallows to toast and hot chocolate to sip. They must have thanked me 3 times a piece. They had the same reaction that I would have had if someone had said, "Hey, here's $2000, just 'cause I like you!"

They had that same reaction when I picked them up from school yesterday and said, "Salad, guess what we're gonna do now - vacuum out our van at the gas station!" There were whoops and cheers of joys. No lie. S did a back flip. Fine. That was a lie. But there were whoops and cheers.

As an example of my ever present fear of the future, I thought to myself "To get that same reaction from a 16 year old, you'd probably have to hand them keys and say 'Enjoy that Dodge Charger I just bought you!'"

I'm frightened. Can you tell?

Not for the faint of heart.

2011-10-20T22:08:00.002-04:00

Longwoods Gardens. It's serene. It's beautiful. It's full of dangerous places. I guess that last part is only true if you set 5 preschoolers and 1 toddler loose on the grounds.

Grammy, avert your eyes.

Dropping "poop" (aka dirt plugs from an aerator) down a drain big enough to swallow the Salad whole.

Climbing the trees in the Topiary Garden. Anyone know if this is actually allowed?

Scraping snails from the side of a pond.

Artsy Fartsy (as my dad would say)

2011-10-19T21:53:00.001-04:00

I'll admit that when the Salad was born, my slight OCD tendencies turned into full blown OCD tendencies. I needed order. I ran this house like a military base for 19 months.

Then, one day when the Salad was 19 months old, I spotted Halloween stickers at the Acme, threw a pack of construction paper into our cart and ran home to make art with my babies.

Thus began our love affair with art.

At first, I tried to impress those full blown OCD tendencies onto my toddlers. I wanted the matching cap to go on the appropriate marker. I wanted pumpkins to be round, skies to be blue, faces to have noses. Perhaps through shear exhaustion, those OCD tendencies began to fade. Now, I delight in square fruit, purple suns and the many, many pictures of our loved ones, sans facial features. So long as there is a lid on a marker, I could care less what color it is. In fact, if we should get so lucky to find a blue marker with an orange cap I can't grab the color wheel fast enough. Talk about teachable moments! Complementary colors at their finest!

3 years after those first Salad-made Halloween cards were created, we make some kind of art every day. For the last 2 years they have had any craft supply they would like to use at their disposal 24 hours a day. So long as they keep it in the preschool room, they are free to create what they want, whenever they want. Most mornings, they head straight there before they even come into my room. Yes, it makes for a crazy messy preschool room. So should you ever visit and the door to the left at the top of the steps is closed, please leave it closed. And poor R may step on beads every morning for the next few years when he enters the room. And many times I have left the house trailing a piece of scotch tape on my shoe, unbeknownst to me. These are small prices to pay for a Salad that loves to create.

Here is a one side of a conversation that I have had 547 times in the last 3 years.

"Oh, wow (insert Salad ingredient here)! Tell me, who did you draw? . . . . Uh huh. And what is this mark right here? . . . . Oh really? Poop, huh? . . . . and those are what again? Privates. Of course. I should have known. What's this dot above the privates? Right! Right. Well, everyone has a belly button."

Thank God I've eased up some.

Otherwise, their bedroom door would be just that. A door. Rather than the gallery it is today.

Otherwise, I'd never have stumbled into this "Robot Army" one morning not too long ago.

Otherwise, I'd never have heard S give me this description of a picture she drew "It's you and I trick or treating. I'm a ballerina and you are a potato. And these buttons I glued on are our candy."

September 18th - September 25th, 2011

2011-10-18T20:27:00.001-04:00

That week in our house:

1. M may have dropped a luggage lock into a toilet.

2. The Salad awarded me a star for Speaking Kindly on our behaviour charts.

3. We may have had to duct tape Jesus back to a cross. A carries said "duct tape Jesus" around the house.

4. We hosted a moving away party for our friends Rithik and Vishal.

5. We went to a birthday party for "baby Thomas", who is no longer a baby.

6. S wore a green skirt, brown heart dress and blue jeggings to afore-mentioned birthday party.

7. A wore snow boots to the same party.

8. The Salad set up their first lemonade stand. Between myself, R, Grammy, McNulty and our generous mailman, they made 6 dollars.

9. M has taken to using mousse to "make his hair spiky."

10. We took the trolley into Media, where R treated us to breakfast at the dinner.

11. S took and failed her second hearing test. Giant hole in eardrum to blame.

12. We went to a Greek Festival and ate the most delicious loukoumades.

Help a sistah out.

2011-10-01T19:15:00.002-04:00

S: Mommy! Help! I got my tiara stuck in my hair!
M: Here, S, here. I can get it for you. (jumping up before I could get to my feet)
A: Let me help too, M. (crowding around S)
M: Ok. Ok. Hmmm. I think we need scissors.
A: I'll go get them.
Me: Noooooooo! No. No. I can get it without scissors.
M: Ok. Maybe you need my screwdriver? (inching toward his tool bench)
Me: Um. No thanks, buddy. I'll just get try with my hands.

S: Nevermind. I'll get it. (starting to panic, ripping out her tiara and a small clump of hair.)

Ride or Die

2011-09-27T16:30:00.000-04:00

M and S are daring, in life, yes. But most glaringly when it comes to amusement rides. Which is a dang shame for them, because R and I are decidedly not daring, preferring to ride the Merry-go-round, rather than anything that goes fast, or high, or upside down. So when M and S asked, nay - begged, to go on the Scream Machine while on vacation, I had to suck it up, slap a smile on my face and beg God that I wouldn't stroke out. A is like R and I. Though not as comfortable with it, fearful that she will miss out on something. She whispered in my ear that she didn't think she would like the ride, but that "I should tell her all about it when we got off." Unfortunately, we were the last 3 people to get on the ride, so there were 2 seats left next to each other and another down 4 spots. I put M and S next to each other and took my place at the end, next to a girl about 6 years old. Poor, poor girl. The ride was like the worst, most turbulent plane ride you could imagine. You know that horrible belly feeling you get when your plane drops 2 feet? I had that feeling for 3 solid minutes. And every time they would raise it up and drop the ride again, I would scream "I hate this! God, when will it end?!" The girl may have learned a few choice curse words too. I'm sorry for that, but I couldn't help it. It was an involuntary reaction. Is there such a thing as situational Tourette's Syndrome?

Oh, my aching belly!

2011-09-25T16:03:00.001-04:00

My girls have taken to school like ducks to water. M has had a harder time. He seems to be suffering from separation anxiety. Not from me, but from "his girls". Even though they are in the same classroom, the girls seem to be a bit more open to meeting new friends. And that Pisses.Him.Off. I know 'cause he told me the first day of school. Came out all smiles and half way home, he broke down and growled in a hurt/confused/angry voice that "his girls didn't play with him and he wants them to only play with him and not make any new friends!" Though he has continued to go willingly into the classroom and comes out full of stories about rice bins and songs he's learned, he still won't make any new friends. And then, his belly started to hurt him. All the time. After breakfast. In the bath. Many, many times during the night. For 1 week. I took him to the doctor, just to do my due diligence. She felt his tummy, asked me all sorts of bowel-related questions, told him he was doing a great job of eating and growing and sent him from the room, so she could speak to me alone. Physical manifestation of Separation Anxiety was the official diagnosis. Like pediatric irritable bowel. Poor boy.

As a real time update to his stomach woes, he had a great week in and out of school and miraculously, his belly no longer hurts him.

However, I know how he felt. On Wednesday, when the kids were in school, I stopped at the dry cleaners. The old lady there smiled widely and said "Ahhhh, free from your kids!" The lump took over my throat. My eyes welled up. I wanted to scream that I didn't want to be "free" but I couldn't speak. I shrugged and nodded. She noticed my reaction and asked "How many days are they in school?" I still couldn't speak. I held up 2 fingers, paid my bill and walked to my car. I drove to my sister's to drop something off and along the way, I saw a dump truck. "Look M, a dump truck!" I yelled. I turned to see his excited reaction. He wasn't in the car. The water works stared again. I popped into Target to pick up a few things. I took the elevators, out of habit, so the Salad could press the buttons. But there was no Salad. While I was shopping, I heard a sweet little voice singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Help. I can't stand these constant reminders anymore.

I raced to the school and picked them up a half hour early.

Because my belly hurts without them. Damn irritable bowel.

Ocean City, Cliffs Notes, 1 month later

2011-09-24T14:05:00.000-04:00

"Cool Rider"

To Infinity and Beyond!

Girl Time with Sophia, Mommy, Grammy and Aunt Jo

Just a few things to mention about this vacation, so we don't forget.

* Hurricane Irene cut short our vacation by hitting the east coast Saturday and Sunday.

* The Salad slept in bunk beds. They told everyone that we met for the 2 weeks before we went away "We are going on a beach vacation. We're sleeping in a bunk bed. Then when we get home, it will be our first day of school!"

* We took the Salad miniature golfing. At one point, R was trying to tell S to hit the ball harder. His exact words were "Hit the ball like you're angry at it." So she did hit the ball like she was angry at it. Except that it wasn't a golf ball, ifyouknowwhatImean.

* Weeks before the trip, S mentioned that she wanted to "ride the tree that was cut in half, where you get wet." So of course, we rode the log flume.

* We had family and friends in and out of the house all week. I think it was our best beach vacation yet.

The Salad goes to School

2011-09-10T20:40:00.000-04:00

The Salad started preschool Wednesday, September 7. We had talked about it, visited the school 2 times, pretend played school more often than I can count. Our preparation payed off, for they got up, got dressed, fed and out the door by 8:15, with excited smiles. They bounded through the front doors of the school and practically ran into their classrooms. M and A gave R and I big smooches and S punched it out with fireworks, then asked for permission to go play. Clearly, I have well adjusted children.

I bit my tongue so I could make it out of the school without crying.

Thankfully, we made it to the car before the tears came. And they kept coming on and off for the next 4 hours. Little things brought them on - being alone in the Target dressing room, listening to adult music in the car, having an uninterrupted conversation. Ok. Those things don't sound like they should bring on the waterworks. In fact, those things were pretty awesome. But they were painful reminders that my normal is changing. And I didn't like it one bit.

Much like the Me and my Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad day post, the I-cried-on-my-kids-first-day-of-school post seems so tired, so passe. But here it is nonetheless.

We have very good friends that are homeschooling their babes. I think they rock. They are committed and confident that they can raise intelligent, well-adjusted, socialized children. If I had even 10 percent of that confidence, the Salad world still be here, safe in our bubble - taking our time eating breakfast, wearing stained clothing with unbrushed hair, playing with friends who overlook such things. Not an hour after we dropped off the Salad for their first day of school, R and I saw one of these homeschooling friends in Trader Joe's, with her brood following along. I welled up immediately. When she caught my eye, I gave her the "I can't talk right now, my heart - it's in my throat" look from across the store. She nodded. She got me.

I bit my tongue so I could make it out of Trader Joe's without crying.

And while I admire these women, I know that homeschooling is not the right path for our family to take. Wanting to protect your babies from boys who tell your daughter that her cheese stick is yucky, or girls who tell your son that he can't play because he's a boy is not reason enough for us. Wanting to shield your 4 year olds from knowing who the "Transformers" are or ever seeing an episode of "Sponge Bob" is not reason enough for us. Fearing your son will be made fun of because he still shares his room with his sisters is not reason enough for us. Worrying that your baby daughter, who often becomes too affectionate too quickly, will be pushed away is not reason enough for us. Dreading the day that your babies might be negatively influenced by their peers is not reason enough for us. I feel like these lessons, which seem so big and looming at this tender age are stepping stones, to the bigger, harder lessons that are sure to come.

So I have to remember to tell my babies that people aren't always nice, but we need to be good examples. That some people aren't blessed with siblings, so they will never understand the closeness that being born at the same time brings. That affection may not always be returned, but when it is, there is nothing more special. That peer influence is fine, so long as it is positive.

My heart and mind are tired and a little heavy.

Now, I am going to bite my tongue so I can make it up to bed without crying.

Can you find the Kevin Bacon reference?

2011-08-28T16:28:00.000-04:00

M spotted a big nest that had fallen from our front tree and was laying in the street. He begged me to take him down to see if there was anything in the nest. Unfortunately, there was. We saw 2 tiny squirrels, so small their eyes weren't even open. R used a stick to move the nest away from any passing cars and I went in to call the SPCA. Unfortunately, due to Hurricane Irene, they were closed. M suggested making a baby squirrel stretcher and quickly set to work. He also suggested calling the police. Before we took such drastic measures, I researched what to do online. Thank you, Google for giving us this site. http://www.mary.cc/squirrels/foundababy.htm

R and I were skeptical, so mostly just to humor M, we followed the instructions.

I found a low cardboard box, the Salad set to work gathering some leaves, acorns and dirt from the tree the nest fell out of and R scooped the nest up with a snow shovel and placed the whole thing in the box. Something we learned from the site was that if the babies were hurt or cold, the mommy would reject them and that even on a hot summer day, a baby squirrel gets cold very quickly. So, I filled up 3 latex gloves with warm water, placed them under the nest and moved the whole box to the base of the tree. The site said if the mommy squirrel was coming back, she would do so in 3 hours. We went inside.

About 20 minutes later, I happened to sit down at the computer and look out the window. The mommy squirrel was just leaving the box with a baby in her mouth, running for the next tree in our yard! I yelled for R and the Salad to hurry quietly to the front window. We sat and watched that mother squirrel, move not 1, not 2, but 7 babies from the nest! She diligently would dig through our box of leaves, grab another baby in her mouth and run for the other tree. What a blessing to watch "This Woman's Work".

The Catchall Post

2011-08-26T20:33:00.001-04:00

We've done so super many fun things in the last few weeks, I've been unable to keep up the blog. I have the intention of blogging the night of each super fun thing, but I'm exhausted after most of them. So let's quickly recap last weeks of July, first week of August.

* Ian came over and turned our brand new swing set into a water slide. Ahhhh, the benefits of older cousins.

* R and I took the Salad into Media to walk through an Antique Car Show. The brightly colored cars (Purple! Pink! Orange flames!) kept them properly interested. Though, I suspect the promise of ice cream after the show played an important part, as well.

* I braved taking the Salad to the movies by myself for the first time. It was, by far, our most successful movie adventure yet. I chose Winnie the Pooh, because I knew there wouldn't be anything "scary". S is particularly sensitive to "scary". We haven't made it through the first Cars movie because the night time scenes are "scary". The shark in our Little Mermaid book is "scary". Fire works and people in costumes? "Scary." Our bravado faltered a bit when the lights dimmed and the previews became loud, though we rebounded quickly, once I doled out popcorn.

* Aunt Jo had an unprecedented weekday off, and so she was finally able to join us at the pool. The Salad and I both love bringing guests to the pool, because there is someone else besides myself to scream at . . . "Look at me! I can swim under water!" "Did you see me?! I jumped in the pool!" "Watch me! I can float!" (though none of them can just yet). And Aunt Jo was a semi-willing participant in many underwater piggy back rides. Thanks for the break, Joanna!

We hit the ice. Literally.

2011-08-25T09:53:00.000-04:00

Ian called us from his brand new cell phone this morning to see if we'd go ice skating with him this afternoon. I almost said no, because I wanted to take the Salad to the pool. Gotta soak up these sunny days while we can. But then I remembered I had told S I would take her ice skating back in February and then my colon went wonky, and I never took her. So I told him we'd go, but that we were heading to the pool right after we were through. I set to work, digging winter clothes from the depths of our storage bins and gathering our bathing suits. It was a strange mix of supplies we needed for our outings - mittens and sunscreen, fleece pants and flip flops. The Salad was confused when I handed them long sleeved shirts.

We arrived, strapped on our skates, and gingerly stepped onto the ice.

Even with her walker, A fell immediately. I thought for sure that was the end for her. It would have been for me. But she got herself right back and took off and never turned back, though she fell about 50 times in the 75 minutes we were there. Every single time, she'd say "I'm alright, Mommy" and get back up, my heart felt proud.

M used the walker for 2 seconds and begged me to let him try without it. Which I did, and down he went. He asked for his walker back immediately.

S told me she just wanted "to go fast." She was fast, though she ran more than skated. She didn't understand the gliding without picking up your skates, so mostly she just looked like she was jogging behind the walker.

Now, I know you're wondering. No. I did not fall. No. I did not use a walker. But that's all I'm gonna say about me.

M got a blister after about 7 laps and sat with Aunt Jen in the stands, cheering us on after that. The Zamboni machine at the end more than made up for a boo boo foot.

On our way out, we stopped at another rink to check out 2 sets of figure skaters that were having a private lesson. The girls were amazed at the "beautiful dancers." So was I, truth be told. I probably trip or fall more often walking than these people do on skates.

I wonder, did these skaters start out using walkers?

And so it begins . . .

2011-08-19T20:20:00.002-04:00

It has rained for the last 47 days. Ok. I'm exaggerating. It has probably only been 7 of the last 9 days, but it feels like 47. So today when it hadn't stormed by noon, I hustled the Salad into their bathing suits and got our bottoms to the pool. Summer's almost over, don't ya know?

I don't like posting without pictures, but I had to get this story written, before I forgot the exact wording.

Conversation between M and his wing woman A.

M: "A, see that little girl?" (pointing to a blond girl about 7 years of age)
A: "Yes, that's Alyssa. She's our friend." (they had played together for approximately 2 minutes)
M: "I want to meet her. Bring her to me." (standing on the side of the pool)
A: "Ok." (dutifully, she gets out of the shallow pool that we were playing in, marches to the deep pool, and stands on the end, screaming "Alyssa! Alyssa! Alyssa, our brudder wants to meet you!"
Alyssa either doesn't hear her or doesn't answer her.
A: "I tried, M." (shrugging her shoulders, as she re-enters the shallow pool)
M: "Awwww. I really wanted to meet her. Maybe later, A?"
A: "Yeah. Ok, M."

I love this for So.Many.Reasons.

1. My children LOVE meeting other kids.
2. M knows his sisters would do anything for him.
3. A and S do anything for him, knowing he returns the favors. For example, each and every time we go to the super market M asks the cashier for stickers "for my girls." And he runs to get their respective lovely when they cry or kiss boo boos or feed them applesauce if their "hands are too tired."

I kid you not. This is my life. How lucky am I?

E-A-G-L-E-S! Eagles!

2011-08-18T16:31:00.001-04:00

For our family, the Fall means football. Not that the Salad and I understand the sport, or even try for that matter, but that Daddy goes to the games. It means Uncle Todd picks Daddy up VERY early in the morning and drops Daddy off at the house VERY late that night. It means we re-learn the Eagles fight song every year. It means tailgate talk of hoagies and hot dogs at 8:00 AM.

This year, R wanted to share that with the Salad. So, last Thursday, he came home early and went to work setting up the finest tailgate feast a 4 year old could enjoy. The 4 of them had made a list the night before, complete with a hand drawn football. Hot dogs, Pringles, fruit salad (the eating kind, not the people kind), juice boxes and chocolate chip cookies. He packed chairs for us all and the Salad made sure to bring along a football. S was heartbroken the next morning when she realized "we forgot to bring a radio so we could dance like Daddy and Uncle Todd!"

The tailgate before the actual game was the best part. The weather was perfect and the food hit the spot. Our fellow tailgaters were charmed by our piggy-tailed girls in matching pink jerseys and a cute boy who insisted on "spiking his own hair."

For once, I went into the night with a laid back attitude. I am fairly low key, but come our 7:30 PM bedtime, I can see the end in sight. I'm tired by then, physically, mentally and emotionally. I kinda get antsy for the quiet that comes. But last night the game started at 7:30 PM. I knew I would have to pull out all of my songs and dances to keep the Salad happy. I let them take pictures of anything they wanted. We counted all of the pictures of eagles we could find. We fed them pretzels. Everyone handled the late night as well as could be expected. "As well as could be expected" meaning, every 2 minutes M asked if we could go back to the car. 3 minutes and 7 seconds into the game, A asked "when would the Eagles start playing the game?" and S held her hands over her ears the whole time, for fear they would set the fireworks off again and they were "just too loud for her."

We got home and had a sleeping Salad by 10:00 PM.

They only way it could have been more perfect is if a late bedtime meant a late morning wake up. But no - my early rising boy greeted R as he left for work, bright and early at 6:30 AM the next day.

Like a Good Neighbor, McNulty is there.

2011-08-12T14:05:00.000-04:00

Our elderly neighbors, the McNulty sisters (or McNulty as the Salad calls them) love my babies. Not Ms. McNulty, not Ms. Mary or Ms. Kathleen. Just McNulty. An amalgam of old lady, who get a kick out of my children.

So they invited us into their home for lunch. Their very clean home - full of knick knacks, glass coffee tables and white furniture. It's a veritable landmine of accidents for a 4 year old.

The Salad is fairly personable, and so makes polite conversation with anyone willing to sit and decipher what they are saying. McNulty sat with rapt attention as M explained that we had had the back yard sodded on Tuesday. They eagerly accepted A's invitation that they come play on our new swing set. When S said that "it was her pleasure to help serve the hot dogs" McNulty roared with laughter.

We finished off our lunch, enjoyed the sundae bar McNulty provided, complete with spraying whipped cream directly from can to mouth, and walked back across the street.

During prayers that night, S ended her list of things she was thankful for with "and even McNulty".

I'm thankful for good neighbors, too.

The Good

2011-08-07T18:35:00.000-04:00

Seeing the day another way . . .

It's easy to occupy 4 years olds. Offer them complimentary doughnuts and hot chocolate and they are good for quite a long time. 2 trips to the bathroom, checking out the floor model Toyotas, a basket of used toys and PBS helped too.

The Salad was thrilled when I pulled out the clay. S set to work making a present for our playdate on Thursday. The kicker is that our "playdate" she's talking about is lunch with our 65 year old neighbor McNulty and her slight younger sister, McNulty. I'm not sure how it started that we call them McNulty, but the ladies crack up ever time we see them and the Salad screams across to them, "Hi McNulty!"

We had fatty food for lunch. I enjoyed lunch.

Grammy, Aunt Jen and Ian came bowling with us. The kids bowled for free.

They played 2 games and yesterday, for the first time ever, M made it through both games without getting distracted or scooching. I felt proud of him. My baby boy is growing up.

I'm trying to keep this post positive, but there isn't a very bright side to credit card fraud. A very dim silver lining, I guess, would be that we are getting the $61.98 charge credited back to our account.

The Kung Fu Panda part of my day was just what the doctor ordered. My babies were warm and cozy. They made me laugh. Their movie repertoire is very limited. They didn't understand that the movie was about believing in yourself. They don't really get the epic good versus evil battle. They have never even heard the word "evil" probably. You know what A and S kept saying, as the panda and cheetah fought, breaking through walls, sending rocks and dust flying? "Oh boy, Mommy. That cheetah is really making a big mess!"

And now here I lay, listening to the rain, safe in bed with my hard working husband, with a beautiful Fruit Salad tucked into bed in the next room.

Today was a very good day.

The Bad and the Ugly

2011-08-06T21:12:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, when your day hands you lemons, instead of rising to the occasion and making lemonade, you just take the low road, flip on Kung Fu Panda and snuggle up with your Salad. Secretly resenting the fact that they can enjoy a movie, complete with popcorn, while my diverticula-ridden colon would stage an uprising if I sneaked even a piece. Sigh.

Let's recap Wednesday, shall we?

I should have known after waiting 2 hours for our van to get inspected that something was amiss. I should have gone to ask earlier. The man looked at me like I was crazy and said "I came out and called your name about 45 minutes ago. Didn't you hear me? And then I came out about 40 minutes ago and pronounced it a different way. Were you in the Kid's Korner? Oh, I guess you didn't hear me. Sorry." But I could tell he wasn't sorry. I should have sat in the waiting room with all of the other people that had gotten there at 7:55 AM and let my children be as loud as 4 year olds can be. Let's see who hears who then.

Since we hadn't been home for breakfast, the dishes were undone when we got home. I like to do the dishes while the Salad eats their meals. We sing songs. I teach them about Emerald Ash borers. Sometimes we listen to "Leaving on a Jet Plane." We are learning how to count by 2s to 20. I like to multitask. So I quickly did the dishes and pulled out clay for them to play with at the table. I thought I could get some banking done while they played. But I forgot the answer to our security question, got locked out of our account, wasted 20 minutes getting it unlocked, only to find out that it wasn't the right account.

Trying to salvage the morning, I thought I would take the Salad out to lunch and then take them bowling. Besides dropping grease on my pants and M bleeding at the bowling alley, those 2 things went pretty well. Though, that's not saying much.

Finally able to sit and pay those bills, I find a suspicious charge on our credit card. 1.5 hours later, we have 2 new cards coming our way. I have suspicions about the thieves. I think I know who charged an X box game to our Disney Card. I'm on to you, punks. And I learned a few things watching Kung Fu Panda. Be afraid.

So it was one of those days. I complained, a lot, to anyone who would listen. I'm sorry for that, because now in the quiet, there were a bunch of great things about our day. They deserve their own post. Be on the look out for it.

They Can Dance If They Want To

2011-08-04T14:25:00.001-04:00

We met our friends, Miss Sandy, Sean and Hailey at an outdoor concert a few weeks ago. One of my children enjoyed it more than my other children.

However, they all enjoyed the McDonalds we ate for lunch afterwards.

Even more than the McDonalds, they enjoyed jumping in the pool, over and over and over and over again with their friends.

And then they did the limbo.

Well, it's the effort that counts.

Old Friends

2011-08-01T21:53:00.000-04:00

My very first job out of college was at an art gallery/auction house. It was back in the time BI (before internet) and I responded to an ad in a local paper. By the time I had driven home from Staples, where I faxed my resume from, I had gotten a call to come interview. I went to interview shortly after, for a job that I truly wasn't qualified for, but wholeheartedly interested in. By the time I had driven home from the interview, I had gotten a call that I had gotten the job. I was at the gallery for 3 months, before I moved up to the corporate headquarters. I loved that job. I got to meet artists, order art, design art, meet amazing people. I was 21 years old. I stayed there for 5 years. I became dear friends with Jeba, the CFO of the company. I met R. She met her husband there. We went on double dates to dinner in the city. Jeba and I had many funny times, Mary Kay demos, moving friends, going dancing with the warehouse guys who dressed better than we did. Laughter came easily to us.

And then I left that job. And then she left that job. And then she got married. And then I got married. And then she had a baby. And then I had a bunch of babies. And then she moved away. And then life got in the way and we lost touch. And she isn't on Facebook. And how do you keep in touch with people if they aren't on Facebook?! I'll tell you, you stalk them, dig around online, find their house number and call them on a random December day, after you haven't spoken in 4 years.

And then you catch up over the phone. And it's not always good. Parents die. But sometimes it's really good. She had another baby girl. And as always with great friend, it's like no time has passed.

And then 6 months passes, you catch up again via email this time.

And then 1 month after that, she invites you and your brood into their home.

And as always with great friends, it's like no time has passed.

And laughter still comes easily to us. Conversation comes lightly.

And best of all? 14 years after we met, our husbands and all 5 of our babies played beautifully together.

And we joined anyway.

2011-07-30T16:49:00.000-04:00

Playgroup headed to the Delaware Museum of Natural History a few weeks ago. Here is an excerpt from their website . . . "Kids have a wildly good time at the Delaware Museum of Natural History!"

Someone should have informed the old bitty at the admission desk, who smelled of Cheetos and spoke of "finishing up that cigarette" that kids are indeed welcome in the museum. Instead of welcoming us, she shushed us 17 times before we'd seen the first exhibit. The kids didn't notice, but it sure got my back up.

More from the website "The interactive Nature Nook is a place where young children can explore animal habitats while having fun. Step inside a cave, walk through a woodland, enter an eagle's nest, and lots more! Museum personnel will help facilitate interactions between children and their parents/caregivers, plus display live animals for up-close looks."

Crap, crap and more crap. While the Salad did enjoy petting a snake, the "museum personnel" in attendance had the personality of a wet dish rag. We left the Nature Nook after a different museum worker, stuck her head inside the cave where 7 preschoolers, 1 baby and 1 MOTHER were reading and made some snide reminder about being "respectful. This is still part of a museum!"

Look how engaging that "museum personnel" is! Crap.

The atmosphere inside the museum was so stuffy, we chose to eat outside even though it was raining.

We left shortly after lunch and the best part of our day was crawling all over, falling off and diving into a small iron fountain on the lawn. I even let the Salad take pennies from the water. Take that Delaware Museum of Natural History!

Stomping Grounds

2011-07-27T16:35:00.000-04:00

Summer rainstorms provide the best puddle stomping opportunities. Torrential thunderstorms mean lots of rain, green grass means lots of mud and warm weather mean few clothes to dirty. After spending the morning staring longingly outside, I told the Salad to grab their boots and find the biggest puddle to stomp. At one point S walked by me and I heard a distinct slosh from her boot. I asked her to take it off, turn it upside down and out came a gallon of water. It gave them great satisfaction to get thoroughly wet and disgustingly muddy.

It gave me great satisfaction to get awesomely fun pictures.

It IS a small world, after all.

2011-07-23T14:44:00.000-04:00

When I was about 8 a little girl who was about 4 moved into the house next door. On Monday, that little girl who is now in her early 30s brought her 2 year old to my house to play with my 3 - 4 year olds.

In November, I went to a concert to see Ani Difranco with that same girl and another girl that I hadn't seen since I graduated high school with her in June of 1994.

Speaking of high school, I met my best friend there. Speaking of my best friend, I went to a concert with her in June. We saw the Indigo Girls. Speaking of the Indigo Girls, I saw them at the Tower Theater in 1999 with that same best friend. Speaking of that concert in 1999, I bumped into that same girl now in her early 30s who brought her 2 year old to play with my 3 - 4 year olds on Monday.

It's all very confusing, no?

My Interior Monologue

2011-07-21T21:49:00.003-04:00

Butter is so good.

Substitutes should never have been made for such perfection.

It's like showing this . . .

when you've been advertising this . . .

What kind of cruel joke is a wind gust on a 99 degree day? It just blew hot air right up my frigging nose!

I wonder if we'll find parking at the Please Touch Museum today? Along with the rest of Philadelphia.

I wonder if Peter and Lucy know that when the Salad says "Let's go to the Spinny Spinny" thing, they mean the giant human hamster wheel?

Huh. Red dye really does affect the children.

If I take a multi-vitamin with it, Peach Pie is good for dinner, right?

I like Peach Pie and I cannot lie. "You other brothers can't deny that when a girl walks in with an itty bitty" . . . Gosh, whatever happened to Sir Mix-a-Lot?

I'm gonna Google him right now.

Freedom at its Finest

2011-07-16T14:40:00.001-04:00

The Salad was lucky to be able to have Daddy and Poppy around on the Fourth of July! We started off with our local parade. The only red shirts that the Salad have are the Thing 1, Thing 2 and Thing 3 shirts that Aunt Jo bought them 2 years ago. Yes, they still fit. Yes, we have small kids. Geez.

Anyway, the shirts got a lot of attention from the people on the floats and in the old fashioned cars riding in the parade. They would scream out the windows, "Oh my gosh! I love those shirts! Hahahahaha! Like Dr. Seuss! Hahahahah! 'Cause there are 3 of them!" They were kinda super stars. Then the parade participant would throw fistfuls of candy at them. We hauled home more candy on July 4th than we did on October 31st.

Also of note, the Republicans marched a live elephant down a suburban street. Come on, Democrats. I bet a donkey is a lot easier to find round these parts than an elephant. They outdid you, Democrats. They really did.

We jumped in the car and headed into Media, because R heard there was gonna be a giant water slide. As soon as we arrived, there was an announcement that a race for 4 year olds was being held. The Salad didn't hesitate. M won. That kid is fast as lightning. Gotta get him interested in Track and Field, 'cause the boy can jump too.

After the slide, we headed home for a special Independence Day edition of Muffin Tin Monday.

And then we ate candy. Lots of it. It says to do so in the Declaration of Independence.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness that comes from eating candy."

What?!

What a Woman Wants.

2011-07-14T20:33:00.000-04:00

Our van was in the shop for a few days recently. Our scaled down rental gave me a new found appreciation for the 2007 Sienna that we currently have. For example, this rental doesn't have a sliding door. That thing has been a Godsend. Imagine trying to hustle toddlers into a car from a crowded parking lot, or run 2 newborns through 20 degree weather when 1 is already waiting in the pre-warmed car. I could open it last minute while my hands were full of babies. And close them in, just as fast. Or how about the fact that we have an 8 seater, allowing me to have all of our car seats in the middle row. This rental van was a 7 seater. I had to put one Salad ingredient in the back. There were many fights about who got to sit back there. Finally, they realized that whoever sat there got the short end of the stick, for I was unable to hand them food or books.

Thinking about these seemingly insignificant details has made me want to share with you a list of things that has made my life as a mother easier and dare I say, more enjoyable. I have sung the praises of these things for the past 4 years, so for some of my mom friends, this won't be the first time you hear this, and most certainly will not be the last.

The Keurig Coffee Maker. There is nothing more comforting to me than a freshly brewed cup of coffee (or 2) in the morning. I needed the caffeine more when the Salad was newborn. Many mornings, I woke up alone in a house with an overwhelming amount of children. Of course there were only 3, but in my post partum/possible post traumatic stress 3 seemed like a whole lot of babies. I needed that caffinated kick in the pants to get me going on 24 bottles or 36 diaper changes. Now, it's like waking up to an old friend.

Shick Intuition Razors with Built In Soap. The ease of a razor already combined with soap for you? It's a real time saver, that without . . . Well, let's not imagine life with out Shick Intuition Razors with Built In Soap. Suffice it to say, it wouldn't be pretty.

She looks like a new mom who could use one of those razors. Eh. Who am I to talk?

DVR. I came off 3 months straight of bed rest, during which I watched every episode of M.A.S.H, Golden Girls, Pysch and Sex and the City ever recorded. Sure, there were hours I would read, maybe even get up and walk downstairs, but mostly, I watched TV and grew a Fruit Salad. TV became important to me, it was how I scheduled my day, usually showering at 11:00AM, 'cause I just couldn't tolerate The View. But then, February 5th, my world changed and I didn't have a single second to watch "my stories". I secretly began to feel resentful. Maybe not so secretly, because at some point someone, some angel sent from God said to me, "Why don't you just get DVR?" Within 24 hours, we had DVR and I was able to get up to speed on the "Deadliest Catch." Angel sent from God, do you know who you are? 'Cause I don't remember and I'd like to thank you in person.

Drive thru anythings. McDonald's. Dunkin Donuts. Swiss Farms. ATM machines. I actually drove 20 minutes once because there is a drive thru Dunkin Donuts in Upper Darby and I needed a last minute Christmas gift for my brother-in-law. It meant I didn't have to haul 10 month old triplets, out into the cold into a germ infested store during RSV season. That's important stuff to a mother. Also, during this stage and well into their 2s, I would drive to Media to run errands during the winter, just to get out of the house. I chose Media because we have an amazing dry cleaner there, who adores my Salad and would run my clothes out to me, so I wouldn't have to leave them in the car. Then I could drive thru the ATM to pick up cash, which I promptly spent at the McDonald's drive thru. While the Salad munched on fries, I could hit Swiss Farms for the gallon of milk we so desperately needed. Bing. Bang. Boom. Errands complete. Adult interaction. Salad was fed. Now. We need Target to get a drive thru and life would be easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Feed me and I'm happy.

2011-07-13T09:18:00.000-04:00

My birthday this year was a cool 93 degrees. Compared to last year's blazing hot 104 degrees, it was an arctic blast. I woke up to a very happy boy kissing my face, wishing me a "Happy Birthday!" The morning proceeded much like every other morning. I made the Salad breakfast, showered, dressed and hit the ground running. We had errands to get done before lunch, so that I could enjoy the afternoon at the pool with my Salad, my mom, my older sister and my sweet nephew.

Impulsively, I bought an avocado at Trader Joe's. We had left over limes from R's homemade Key Lime pie over the weekend. I've been in the mood for chickpeas lately. I combined them all together with some cilantro and balsamic vinegar and made a perfect summer birthday salad for lunch. The eating kind of salad. Not the people kind of Salad.

My mom surprised me with lemonade and homemade brownies, enjoyed after a lively rendition of "Happy Birthday," complete with candles. And if that wasn't enough, I convinced my sister to go on the GIANT slide. Seriously, you have to climb 20 feet just to get to the nearly vertical drop into the pool. I've been eager to slide since the first time I laid my eyes upon it, but it seems to be a magnet for the 8-14 year old boy set and a repellent for the 25-? mom set. My nephew offered to pay me $5.00 if I went down. So yes, I succumbed to peer pressure and monetary gain and stood in line with 3 prepubescent boys. It was a freaking blast and I plan to do it again and often. Plus, A and S think I am super cool.

We arrived home to find pink roses and orange Peruvian lilies from my sweet husband. They look pretty against the greenish, grayish bluish color of our kitchen I dig orange and blue together. It explains my laundry room.

Anyway, July 6th also happens to be National Fried Chicken day. I feel like the luckiest girl alive. I have an excuse to eat fried chicken on my birthday. I am perpetuating a national day. I fulfilled my duty as an American.

While I set up our picnic dinner, R and the Salad baked me chocolate cupcakes with green vanilla frosting. Perfect ending to a perfect day.

Wow. I love me my food. It is no surprise that the best picture I have from the day is my lunch.

I may have a problem.

On our way to Ocean City

2011-07-08T13:15:00.001-04:00

My SIL graciously invited us to her beach house for the day, and the Salad and I graciously accepted. And we then invited my mother along for the ride. Thanks, Aunt Nicky!

Growing up without cousins, it brings me a great amount of joy to see these 5 cousins play together. 4 - 4 year olds and 1 - 6 year old, who takes her role as older cousin very seriously. Not a quarrel, or whine all day. Just a lot of wave jumping, castle building, M burying, hole digging and hand holding.

And who cares if only 1 among them could figure out how to ride those dang bumper cars?

I had a good laugh going over the bridge on the way home, when after a long tiring day in the sun, my mom got a little punch drunk. She was supposed to be reading the Salad a Strawberry Shortcake book. About 3/4 of the way through the book, I realized that what she was saying wasn't making much sense. She was just kinda saying words. "Berry." "Spiders." "Pancakes." "Haunted House." "Play." "Apple Dumplin'." Lucky for her, the Salad was a bit punch drunk, too and while they appeared to be listening with rapt attention, nobody questioned the missing story line.

Eh, who wants to read a book about Halloween in July anyway? At least, I think it was about Halloween. I may have missed some of it. I may have been a little punch drunk myself.

Garden State Discovery Museum Day

2011-07-07T23:22:00.001-04:00

Also known as The Day We Lost Some Kids.

Our playgroup took another trip out of state to New Jersey's children's museum exactly 1 month ago. I am a terrible blogger. But we got a new camera card and then I misplaced our old camera card and then I didn't bother to look for it until tonight when I got tired of seeing this post as an unfinished draft. Gah. I hate unfinished draft posts. Stay tuned for many, many more out of sync posts to come. Ok then, back on track . . . It's always a nice change of pace from the crazy huge Please Touch Museum. It's tiny, but the mini hockey rink and stage full of dress up more than make up for its size.

I'll blame its size for making us moms a bit more relaxed when we visit. And now we know, if we let up our vigilance for even a moment, a child might slip by you or engage you in a game of hide and seek and forget to let you know.

Fear not, all children were found, physically and emotionally unscathed.

The moms? Well, our emotions may have been scathed.

Just a bit.

When Body Paint makes you Thankful for your Husband

2011-07-03T13:31:00.000-04:00

Due to scheduling conflicts this week, Messy Art Monday was switched to Tuesday. It worked out well for us, especially since our regular story time was cancelled Tuesday. This week was probably the truest definition of the phrase "messy art". Body paint - made of cornstarch, some kind of lotion, and neon food coloring.

Once again, many small children fixated on me, so I ended up with painted flip flops, toes, feet, legs, left forearm, both cheeks, chin and forehead.

While the kids rinsed the paint off in a sprinkler, I noticed that when the paint dried, it started itching. I scrubbed the majority of it off with wipes, though, the blue seemed to . . . ahem . . . stain my face. Just a bit. But enough to once again be thankful that R works hard enough that I get to stay home with the Salad. 'Cause, there is no way I could have gone to work with seemingly bruised cheeks.

Later, I bent down to itch something on my leg and noticed that I had missed a streak of purple paint. Though, I also noticed how incredibly smooth my calves felt. Note to self - find out what kind of lotion Miss Amy used.

Where I'm From

2011-07-02T14:18:00.008-04:00

I am from Dove soap, from Jello and Andes candies.

I am from an old stone porch and green cedar shingles.

I am from robins' nests and pink and white peonies.

I am from new pajamas on Christmas Eve and nose freckles from the sun,

from Gardners and Burgharts, Vetters and Mansis.

I am from the determined and the easily amused.

From the "Always remember, I love you very much"es and the "Down in front"s.

I am from 1 God, 7 sacraments and 10 commandments.

I'm from Upper Darby. I'm from Ireland, Germany, Italy.

From meatballs on Sunday and ham smelling of cloves.

From a diamond ring that didn't sparkle enough,

a Grammy who's garden smelled of basil,

And a Grandmom who cheated playing Monopoly.

I am from Polaroids in albums and 4 x 6s framed on the piano,
from Disneyworld to the Grand Canyon, from Ocean City to Laguna Beach,
from birthdays, vacations, graduations and weddings.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks, Jane, for the inspiration.
Here is the template, in case anyone wants to share where they are from.

In which I write about Doughnuts and Tires

2011-06-30T22:09:00.001-04:00

Our friends Lucy and Peter had a joint birthday party over the weekend. It was a pajama party at 9:30 Saturday morning.

There was something for everyone. Case in point - the Salad thought it was hysterical that we didn't have to change out of our bedtime clothes. And the party was outside!

For R, there were doughnuts in lieu of cake.

For me, there was bacon.

After the bacon thing, I don't feel the need to say more, except that I will. Say more, that is.

We popped balloons, played games, and invaded Lucy and Peter's house. And if all this weren't enough to make a great day, we had to get new tires on the van. M could have stood at that garage all day watching the mechanic work. But we opted to hike up a dangerous stretch of Baltimore Pike to check out a few things at Home Depot. I wondered briefly if the people in the cars that we were dragging our Salad in front of when the lights changed, thought something along these lines, "Dude, if you didn't have so many kids, maybe you could afford a car."

I scream you scream, we all scream for . . .

2011-06-29T09:44:00.000-04:00

Last week was busy for us - swim lessons each day, play dates and lots of pool time. So when the only thing on our Friday schedule was speech therapy for S, we had a low key morning, snacking and staying in jammies until 10:30, topped off with a fun preschool lesson about the 5 senses.

After S's session, we headed to Dairy Queen for our afternoon snack. There has been much talk of ice cream intake this week among our friends and family, and it hasn't gone unnoticed by the Salad. I'm not much of an ice cream fan, but as I zoomed down the frozen food aisle with the Salad on Sunday, this caught my eye. The rich color, the creamy texture, the words "blood orange" and the clean packaging. It called to me. I did the right thing. I bought it. And it's been taunting them all week. Thankfully, the less glamorous, but equally delicious soft serve from DQ satisfied their 4 year old taste buds. I also used it as part of our 5 senses lesson. You know, to help justify ice cream instead of blueberries for a healthy afternoon snack.

After our treat, we headed over to Grammy and Poppy's house to check out the robin's nest we've been watching for the last 8 days. 4 beautiful eggs had hatched this morning and 4 tiny birdies poked their heads up at us. I cannot begin to express our excitement. Most of the excitement might be mine. During a search in the yard for the broken blue eggs, we stumbled upon yet another nest, with 5 eggs this time! Quints in the making. What an incredible learning experience we are having.

We stopped and got a new kick board for M. His old one that S bought him last summer seems to have vanished into the black hole that is our garage. I let them each get a new inner tube also, as their old ones are too small to lounge on. We got back in the car and had this conversation:

S: "Mommy, thanks for all this great stuff today. Our ice cream and the birds and the tubes."
Me: "You're welcome. Let's be sure to thank daddy too."
S: "OK, was this great day Daddy's idea?"
Me: "No baby doll, but Daddy works hard so we can do this fun stuff."
S: "Oh. Well, I'll thank him too. Should we get him ice cream?"

Never fear, sweetheart, so long as I don't polish off the blood orange sorbet before he gets home, I'll share mine.

What we did 9 days ago.

2011-06-27T20:30:00.003-04:00

We spent Father's Day with the 2 best dads on earth - R and my dad.

We spent Father's Day at the Zoo, brushing a pygmy goat's beard. Strange, but true.

We spent Father's Day trying to get many ducklings to follow us. I feel your pain, Salad.

We also spent it seriously enjoying corn dogs. I mean, serious enjoyment.

Like Fish in Water

2011-06-24T15:59:00.004-04:00

The Salad started swim lessons Monday. There was no fear as they ran from me straight into the arms of the instructors. I watched from across the pool as they listened attentively, spoke respectfully, and were the first to volunteer for anything the instructors asked. As happens so often these days, I wondered where my babies have gone. Of course, if someone gets a boo-boo, or has to pee in the night I get called, but for the most part, gone are the days of babies and toddlers. Though, I've said before, I have never wished those early days back.
But these days. How I love these days, before I send my Salad out into the big, wide world in September. Savoring their sweetness. Protecting their innocence. Shielding them for a while longer. Wanting to fill each second with fun. Hoping against hope that they will remember any of it. Realizing they won't recall specifics, but if in 10 years or 20 years they remember feeling happy, I've done my job well.

"And if we ever leave a legacy,
It's that we loved each other well."
-Indigo Girls

I think

2011-06-22T16:49:00.006-04:00

M is an athlete.

Or maybe not.

Splat

2011-06-19T13:50:00.002-04:00

Ms. Amy hosted yet another awesome Messy Art Monday this week. We arrived to find 2 clothes baskets full of water balloons. The catch was some of the balloons were filled with paint. She had given us a forewarning, the paint may or may not come off of skin.

Rules were simple:
1. No throwing at faces.
2. No eating the balloons.

The Salad had fun, although A would occasionally forget that the purpose was to throw balloons at each other. She came to me at least twice claiming, "X hit my leg with a balloon!", taking it as a personal offense, rather than the game it was meant to be.
At one point, the Salad and 2 additional children were heaving balloons at my feet, a crazy glint in their eyes, no doubt feeling the cathartic effect that pegging a mother with paint and water was affording them.

Who's looking at Who?

2011-06-16T22:04:00.000-04:00

Our triplet group's 4th annual zoo trip was Sunday. We chose a very small, local zoo so that we could stay together as a group. I mean small. Maybe 40 animals. Maybe more if you count those animals' mates. But not many more. The redeeming factor of the Zoo is the playground. Here are the stats:

8 sets of parents = 16
8 sets of triplets = 24
older siblings = 2
twin* younger siblings of 1 set of triplets = 2

*Were you paying attention there? That's 4 year old triplets and 3 year old twins. In one blessed family. They are the 5 missing children in the picture.
That's 44 humans. More humans than animals. We were the most extraordinary exhibit there.

The Catch-all Post

2011-06-14T16:25:00.006-04:00

Several weeks ago, playgroup hit Linvilla Orchards playground. About 5 of them spent more time looking for caterpillars than sliding or climbing. I emptied one of our lunch containers and they set up a "nice little house" for the bugs. Unfortunately for the caterpillars, I think we loved them right to death. We went to a parade on Memorial Day. It was hot. R and I took shelter in the shade while they Salad sat on a curb, waiting for the parade to come by. Eventually, it got too hot for M and S, and they joined us in the shade. But not A. She sat in the hot sun the entire parade, waving her little flag. It was so patriotic of her. I felt proud.

We've been doing some work in our backyard lately. R and M found a frog one morning. The Salad all held it, though A would only hold it if it was in a bowl. She's kinda like me that way. Sophia is not.
We went to see R play soccer last Thursday. I brought popsicles to encourage sitting and actually watching him play. S is a natural cheerleader, chanting "Go Daddy, go Daddy, go Daddy! Yeah! He kicked it! Great job, Daddy!" Of course, between the bugs, the soccer ball we brought along to play with and an ancient swing set, we missed the 3 times Daddy did score.

I spent a good 30 minutes refilling things today. I refilled 3 hand soap dispensers, 1 coffee machine, 1 toilet paper dispenser, the paper towel holder, 1 reusable bottle of SHOUT, 1 butter dish, 1 baby pool, 3 water guns and 9 drinks.

A has been digging the pirate life lately. There is much shouting "Yo ho, let's go!" and searching for "gold doubloons." On Saturday, I came out back to find her helping R in the yard. Digging holes in full pirate regalia, banada and boots.
M wished on a dandelion the other day, "for all my friends to be with me always." When I asked which friends he was talking about, he looked at me like I was crazy for not knowing that he meant his "sisters."

friends for always

That's a Bunch of Berries

2011-06-09T19:59:00.002-04:00

It was the 3rd of June before we had beautiful weather here in the northeast. It rained the first 3 weeks of May and was blazing hot during its last week. But on Friday, the cool sunshine was too perfect to pass up, so the Salad and I headed out to Linvilla Orchards. The strawberries were ripe for picking. So, pick we did. 10 pounds of red, ripe berries. Once again, I was reminded of how enjoyable age 4 is. They were such a capable crew of laborers. And cheap, too, paid only in berries. But what in tarnation did we do with so many berries? Gave 2 pounds to Grammy and Poppy. Gave 1 pound to Meglet for a house warming present. And the rest?

We may or may not have eaten those 7 pounds on our drive home.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

2011-06-08T17:04:00.002-04:00

We have a lovely house. However, as the Salad grows bigger, our home seems smaller. So I want to utilize every bit of available space we have for play, without cluttering up our living areas. We keep hula hoops under our couch. We have a chalkboard on our laundry room wall. Our coffee table is now a train table. We have magnetic boards on both side of our kitchen island for our letters and numbers. There needs to be a place for every thing and every thing need to be in its place.

Recently, A and S have become interested in makeup, jewelry, hair accessories and all things ladylike. They brush and brush and brush their hair, then clamp in 17 barrettes, and top it off with a huge bow or headband. They often wear 3 necklaces and 4 bracelets. I saw A wearing a homemade beaded anklet the other day. The problem is, we don't have a designated space for feminine accoutrement, so we have Tupperware of jewelry and our "makeup" aka chap stick, perfume and hand cream strewn about our kitchen.

Usually, after they doll themselves up, they ask me for a lift so they can see themselves in the bathroom mirror. The other day, as A asked me to pick her up so she could apply chap stick, I had an epiphany. They need a mirror in their bedroom! And a space for jewelry! I set to work picking out a spot in their room where a mirror could fit horizontally, so all 3 could sit in front of it. Then I cleared off the floor in half of their closet to put their jewelry boxes and hair accessories on the floor for easy access. Voila! New play space! Within minutes, the girls had M seated in the "hairdresser's chair" and were spritzing his head with detangler. He was being such a good sport, that when they came to me asking for eye shadow, I had to give them some. Sadly, I didn't get a picture of the finished product, but trust me when I tell you, M wears his eye makeup like a man.

Good Mom / Bad Mom

2011-06-07T21:57:00.001-04:00

Around 4:00 on Thursday, I realized I needed a few things for dinner. It's not the best time of day for us. We are tired from our morning activities, getting anxious for daddy to come home, a little hungry. Not every day, but most days. Nonetheless, I needed to go to the supermarket. I did the "good mom" and told them what kind of behavior I expected. Then, to cover my bases, I did the "bad mom" and bribed them with gum balls, if they exceeded my expectations.

Ahem.

We hit the deli counter first. The guy behind there doled out free slices of cheese to the Salad. They were thrilled.

We quickly gathered up the few things I needed and stopped by the bakery to look through the book of the cakes you can order. The guy behind there came out with a free cookie for each. Seriously, is it Christmas? their looks seemed to say.

We headed to the checkout counter where the girl handed each child a sticker. Cloud nine, I tell ya.

I couldn't deny it, they were excellent. Of course, they didn't have time to misbehave, they were too busy eating. But a promise is a promise.

Gumballs for everybody!

Out of the mouths of boys.

2011-05-25T16:05:00.006-04:00

Brett came over for a play date on Monday. I pulled out a huge container of cardboard boxes that I hadn't broken down yet for recycling. I handed the boys a roll of painter's tape and told them to see what they could create.

This is the finished product.

It's a "robot, wearing 2 hats, holding a hammer, sitting on a toilet."

Of course it is.

What?

2011-05-23T16:27:00.002-04:00

It was my vacation too!

Hoopla

2011-05-20T13:53:00.006-04:00

A very much assumes the archetypal characteristics of being the oldest child. She is responsible. She is a perfectionist. She is serious.

As I reviewed our photos from Disney, I noticed she seemed to let loose a bit. She really took it all in and loved each parade, ride and show.
She was happy.

She made me happy.

The Mad Scientist

2011-05-19T21:06:00.002-04:00

The most important thing to note about this "sundae" is that not a scoop was eaten. We love the idea of eating ice cream, but the act of eating ice cream . . . not so much.

Watch out, meat. She'll chew you up.

2011-05-14T21:21:00.005-04:00

Is it ironic that Sophia ate 13 mini corn dogs at Animal Kingdom? The park claims to "reflect Walt Disney's dedication to nature and conservation, and in doing so, leads the way in animal care, education and research."

They should add carnivory to that list.

Magic of Disney

2011-05-11T15:01:00.000-04:00

A Disney "vacation" takes months to plan, days to experience and years to blog about. We were blessed to have Grammy and Poppy along to enjoy a week long stay - traveling by plane! - to a hotel! - on Disney property! - eating out at every meal! - taking a bus to every park! - riding the attractions!

But let's talk about those things later and focus now on the things M proclaimed as "Awesome!"
1. The street sweeper in the hotel parking lot.
2. The straw dispenser.
3. Calling his sisters from the hotel phone in Grammy and Poppy's adjoining room.

Forget about the "magical experience" Disney professes your children will have as they see fireworks boom over the Epcot lake. For us, those fireworks happened 2.5 hours after our bedtime, when it was "too dark" and "too loud" according to S. She demanded to watch the show with my hands over her ears.

On our 3rd day, we visited Animal Kingdom. It was the coolest "zoo" ever. We took a safari. We saw a baby elephant. It smelled. The rhinos smelled worse. We touched a snake. It was super much fun. In the afternoon, the Salad played "Whack-a-mole." It was so hot. They were so tired. They kept missing those crafty moles by a split second. They played for 6 minutes before any of them hit a mole, scoring a measly 10 points. They had to make it to 150 points before anyone won. A realized they had a long way to go. She started sobbing, banging the same mole hole over and over again, moaning that the bat was too heavy. The girl working the game stared at A with a sad look, clutching her heart, shouting words of encouragement. I stood behind A and laughed at the hilarity of it all. It may have been my favorite Disney moment.

After a dinner at an "African" buffet, we saw a 4" long lizard on a table outside of the restaurant. The Salad tried to pet it. I think they scared and/or confused it. The lizard jumped from the chair onto M's forehead. It took refuge behind M's right ear, clinging to it with his tail. M was simultaneously thrilled and terrified, red-faced, laughing and screaming to get the "yizard" off. I couldn't help, because again, I was laughing too hard.

Something is wrong with me.

And even though S was too short by 1/8" to ride Test Track, she probably had the best time. Ironically, she was the one most resistant to the trip before we left, telling anyone who would listen that she was "a little scared of the characters." And yet, when she saw them - say, in a parade - she waved her little hands wildly, screaming for whoever it was, blowing kisses, grabbing my shirt to shout in my face "They saw me! They waved right at me! They LOVE me!" And that, my friends, is truly the magic of Disney.

A stitch or nine

2011-04-29T16:04:00.004-04:00

The Friday before Easter, S and I were cleaning dishes in the kitchen sink, when a terrific wail came from the preschool room. I waited to see if it was A's dramatic nature or true pain. When M started screaming, I took off running. I passed M, crying, on the stairs. He looked like he had seen a ghost. I found A kneeling with her back to me. When she turned around, blood was streaming from a huge gash on her forehead, covering her shirt, skirt, face, hair. It was as gruesome as this scene from Carrie. I grabbed the phone, ran to the bathroom for a wet washcloth and dialed R as I pressed on the wound.

He was 1 hour and 20 minutes away.

It was dinner time and the Salad was hungry.

I knew A needed stitches.

I called Aunt Jen and asked her to meet me at the hospital.

I regrouped and started barking orders to M and S. M was paralyzed with fear and hysterical, begging me not to take A to the hospital. Every time he screamed, A screamed harder. I finally told him he had to go downstairs until he was calm so I could focus my attention on A. S calmed herself down by taking a few deep breaths and asked me what she could do. She ran and got a new shirt for her sister, she packed up cheese sticks and fruit bars for "hospital" snacks. She got everyone's drinks and jackets by the front door. She gathered up books for the waiting room. M had finally stopped sobbing and came to see how he could help. He got me a fresh rag and band aid. I am so thankful for helpful kids. You know, once they stop hyperventilating.

A had stopped crying by the time we got to the car. My sister met us in the ER parking lot and took the other 2 for dinner. A cuddled and snacked and charmed the heck outta every person she came into contact with.

Stranger: "Oh no! How did you hurt your head?"
A: "I was playing horsie and galloped into the desk."
Stranger: "Aaaaawwwww!"

She didn't shed a tear when the doctor cleaned the cut with numbing cream or gave her six shots of Novocaine or 9 stitches. She told them a joke as the sewed her forehead.

A: "How do you make a tissue dance?"
Doctor: "I don't know. How?"
A: "Put a little boogie in it."
That's my girl.

Magic - 1, Catholicism - 0

2011-04-26T09:42:00.001-04:00

I've been trying to explain what Easter is about to the Salad. Besides chocolate bunnies and egg hunts, that is. I've not used the specific terms, Crucifixion and Resurrection. But I've done the best I can. Apparently, my best is not good enough. During prayers last night, S asked R if he knew God was magic, because he was able to "make his baby son alive again." God - akin to The Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. As further proof that we may be lacking in the Catechism area, M asked at Mass on Easter morning if the "Peter" the priest was talking about was Peter Pan. There was also some jealousy when A and M remember that only the adults get "candy" from the priest.

Gah. Wait till I try to explain the whole host-as-the-body-of-Christ-thing.

Egg-speriment

2011-04-22T14:25:00.008-04:00

My sister asked me to watch my wonderful 11 year old nephew yesterday and Monday. I was a little nervous, wanting to do things that Ian would enjoy, that were still feasible with 3 - 4 year olds. He's a smart kid, my nephew, so I thought he might enjoy doing a little Easter-related science experiment. We started the day off by boiling a pot of red cabbage, a pot of spinach, a pot of dill, a pot of turmeric and a pot of beets. Then I asked Ian, after looking at the water we were left with, to write down what color he thought hard boiled eggs would turn out if we used that water for egg dye. If you decide to try it, you're in for a real surprise with the red cabbage! Also if you decide to try it, be forewarned, open your windows. It's a little . . . um . . . stinky.
We had a day jam-packed full of fun, walking to the super market to pick our own pizza toppings, exploring a pond, going to a super cool playgroup (it had trains!) and then chasing down the ice cream truck.Whew. Off to figure out Monday!

Hog Heaven

2011-04-22T09:01:00.005-04:00

About 2 months ago, as they drove pass the Harley-Davidson store, my brother-in-law made casual mention to M that "Maybe Aunt Jen will bring you to the motorcycle store tomorrow when she takes Ian to buy his new bike." Unfortunately, the Harley-Davidson store is en route to our library, so each Tuesday M has asked "Is today tomorrow, Mommy?" When my sister heard this, she raced over after work on a Friday evening and off they went to the motorcycle store. Apparently, Harley-Davidson is a hidden gem for the preschool set. M had free reign of the store, several store employees outfitting him with helmets and gloves, before perching him atop any bike he wanted. They shoved gobs of free Harley key chains into his hot little fists. They sent him on his way with the 2011 Road Guide and 2 GIANT orange balloons. My sister said when he sat on the bikes, M was still as a statue, soaking in every word the sales guy told him about the helmet vs. no helmet debate.

(please note - this is NOT a Harley)

I see a Hog in our future.

Dreaming of the Summer

2011-04-20T21:30:00.001-04:00

Egg Salad

2011-04-19T14:37:00.002-04:00

Picture it: Easter 2010. We arrive home from Mass and breakfast at the diner. The Salad is overjoyed at the sight of their baskets filled with goodies like bubbles, watering pales and Peeps. After a little quiet time, we head out onto the lawn to hunt for plastic eggs, filled with 1 jelly bean. We have to pace ourselves, Peeple. S spots an egg at the edge of the lawn and begins to run down the hill. She trips. She face plants. Eggs fly. Her brother and sister see that she is down and with vulture-like instinct, prey upon the scattered eggs, popping them open and downing the precious candy inside, all before S has made it to her feet.

I have video evidence.

Now imagine this scene playing out on a larger scale. More kids, bigger kids, strange kids bowling my Salad down for the sake of sweets. The thought makes my blood boil and sends chills down my spine simultaneously.

And so it was with relief, the Salad and I accepted the invitation to Ms. Amy's egg hunt. Meant only for our playgroup, kids that have been playing together for 2, some 3 years. These are kids that love each other and when they have to fight, they do it with grace. There were eggs aplenty, filled with treats (thanks for the peanut butter eggs, Amy!)
When the hunt was over, we feasted on fruit and snacks, played hide and seek, and had egg races. When they got tired of that, they used Ms. Amy's many ride-on toys to have high-speed races down a treacherous hill. Amazingly, we left with all of our teeth and nary a trip to the emergency room.

"Dust of Everyday Life"

2011-04-14T19:43:00.011-04:00

Does it say more about the Salad's ethereal verve or my inability to keep a clean house that we often spend our time "catching" the dust?

Freedom for my Salad

2011-04-08T14:13:00.002-04:00

I need some freedom
Freedom for my people
I want some freedom
Freedom
Freedom freedom for my people
I'd like some freedom
-U2

It was in this song's vein that we ended up at Freedom Playground last Wednesday. Just 5 days before, we awoke to snow flakes. Days of rain and clouds and cold had kept us inside. So when Miss Amy heard it would be mild, the message went out to playgroup - "Freedom Playground, we'll be there at 10:00." And so would we. We had the run of the playground, sand pit and tire swing included. We had a picnic lunch and managed to squeak 20 more happy minutes out of the day with a rousing game of Hide and Seek. Kids love that game. It's amazing really - I kept finding other kids that weren't with our playgroup, joining in on the fun. The more the merrier, unless you don't know how many kids are playing and forget to seek 1 or 2 of them. Whoops. It was a much needed day outdoors. The only crying that occurred was during the races down the triple slide when A's foot caught on the slide and she went "ass over tin cups," as my mother would say. I scooped her up, searched for signs of injury and then tried to hide my smile, because I thought, "Oooh, she went ass over tin cups!" And that expression in plain old hysterical.

He's got the Music in him

2011-04-06T14:22:00.003-04:00

A helped me set the table for dinner the other night and asked that we put on some music. So, the Salad was eating and we're chatting, when M suddenly looks up from his sweet potato fries and says, "Mommy, I need to get up and dance." Far be it from me to put the kibosh on that. By all means, little man, get down to it. And so for 4 minutes, he fist-pumped to Rihanna's "Don't Stop the Music".

Watch out Jersey Shore, you got a hot one comin' your way.

Streets of Philadelphia

2011-04-05T14:08:00.005-04:00

At the first hint of spring, i.e. a 45 degree partly sunny day, I threw on our winter coats, picked up my mom and headed down to the Zoo. We searched for signs of spring - green buds, robins, flowers, etc. We had up close views of every animal we wanted to see, because hardly anyone else had ventured out. We stopped by the train ride on our way to the petting zoo and quickly spotted our friends Peter, Lucy and baby Thomas. It was a great surprise and I loved hearing M ask Peter, "Um, hey Peter, do you want to go feed the goats with us?" Peter was glad to oblige. I realized we were nearing the end of our rope when A started saying that her legs were tired. And it was a loooong way to the car. We said our goodbyes, sat in goose poop, cleaned up goose poop and had a potty break before leaving the children's area. A complained the whole uphill walk. Thankfully, we passed the carousel and I saw it as an opportunity to 1) rest weary legs and 2) provide a distraction. Worked like a charm for about 3 minutes until A asked me to pick her up. Finally we made it to the exit of the Zoo. Just as we did, the clouds parted, the sun shined (shone?) down and the angels sang. OK. The angel part didn't happen. But the clouds did part and the warm sun did shine down. It had been so long since the Salad had felt full-on sunlight, they did what felt natural.

They laid down.

On the sidewalk.

In Philadelphia.

Is it any wonder that we are sick all the time?

Freaking Automation

2011-04-02T19:30:00.006-04:00

The toilet at Farley Plaza, on our way home from a spontaneous beach trip, may set our potty training back 2+ years. Damn self-flushing toilets.

And don't even get me started on the gale force winds pushed out of automatic hand dryers.

Down with the Sickness

2011-03-30T14:24:00.006-04:00

On Monday, R flew to Miami for work. On Tuesday, a plague befell our home. On Wednesday and Thursday, I was racked with guilt as the Salad watched 13 straight hours of TV, while I disinfected every inch of the house. On Friday, I lost my mind. On Saturday, R came home to find me rocking in the corner, grinning insanely, lipstick smeared across my face.

I tell you these things, not so you feel sorry for me, although if ever there was a time to pity a person, surely being vomited on for 74 straight hours would be it. I tell you these things to provide background. So that someday, maybe 5 years from now, maybe 50 years from now, A reads this post and knows I am so proud to be her mommy.

For the first 2 days, she somehow managed to escape the stomach virus that brought the others to their knees, literally. And she took it upon herself to blow her brother's nose, hold back her sister's hair, fetch blankets, "run them a nice, warm bath" and make tea and toast for breakfast. I couldn't have asked for a more thoughtful and competent partner.

A was the Robin to my Batman, the Hardy to my Laurel.

She was my Florence Nightingale wrapped up in a 4 year old body.

That I am talking about a 4 year old surprises me.

That I am talking about my 4 year old amazes me.

You amaze me, little girl.

KID in the Hall

2011-03-28T13:13:00.006-04:00

Is she trying to "crush my head like a grape"?

It's hereditary

2011-03-24T20:12:00.008-04:00

Something about the Dodge Durango has always reminded me of Falkor the Luck Dragon from The NeverEnding Story.

Clearly, my mind works in mysterious ways.

Clearly, so does his . . .

Random Collection of Memories

2011-03-23T19:56:00.000-04:00

* After gymnastics on Friday, we grabbed our gardening gloves and tools and headed down to Grammy's. We were about 10 minutes into weeding when Grammy grabbed what she thought was a stick. Turned out to be an 8" garter snake. And that was the end of gardening for us.

* We've been enjoying the spring like weather, digging in the dirt every chance we get. The other day, I asked M what he was mixing up after watching him throw dirt, small rocks and water into a bucket. "Concreek," he answered.

* We celebrated Dr. Seuss' birthday the first week of March. We made a "One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" Venn diagram, using their hula hoops.

* On a recent car ride home from Grammy and Pop's, I stopped at a red light and peeked in the rear view mirror. M was counting the stickers that he has been collecting on his window for the last 2 years. S was drawing our family on her magna doodle and A was reading "If you take a Mouse to School." Our windows were down, breathing in 70 degree fresh air. Before they could realize it, I flipped off their kid's music CD and turned on Ani Difranco. I made it through 4 glorious songs before anyone even spoke. I freaking love times like that.

My Mulligan

2011-03-21T14:50:00.003-04:00

M was doing a typical 4 year old "My PJs are lumpy, I want water, there was a light in my window, I hear a noise" crying thing the other night, right before bed. I just wanted my day to be over. I went in and said, "What do you want? Please go to bed! I'm not coming back in this room, so if you continue to cry, you will cry yourself to sleep." I heard my voice and immediately, I felt terrible. I felt even worse when he looked up and said in his tiny voice, "I'm sorry, Mommy. Are we still best friends?" I kissed away his tears and slunk out of the room.

Damn.

I want a do-over.

Luck of the (partially) Irish

2011-03-18T19:54:00.003-04:00

The Salad woke up to green water in the toilets on St. Patrick's Day. I told them leprechauns must have used our bathrooms overnight. S told me I was the silliest mommy on earth. The marvels of green food coloring.

I had gone downstairs early this morning and dropped green food coloring into the bottoms of our clear milk glasses, so that when I poured their milks, the Salad thought it was magic. I truly LOVE this age. I also LOVE green food coloring.
We went to Giggle Gang after breakfast and made some clover crafts, while listening to a book about the day. Then I treated them to McDonald's for lunch. Like any Irish blooded American, we ordered a shamrock shake and took the obligatory one sip, before declaring it "gross." They always seem like such a great idea.

We soaked up every bit of the warm sunny day, searching for 4 leaf clovers on our lawn. When we didn't find any, M said we didn't need them anyway. "We were soooo lucky today because we saw a street sweeper on our block and got 4 extra chicken nuggets!"

Gotta go now . . . I'm giving the Salad a bath in a tub full of green water. And no, not with green food coloring.

Fat Patrick's Day

2011-03-18T09:44:00.001-04:00

S and A weren't feeling so hot on Mardi Gras, so we stayed home from our usual Tuesday at the library. That was OK with me, since I'm too scared to tell our librarian that we "misplaced" a book on baseball that we borrowed. Seems it vanished into thin air, or gotten tossed out of a car window while driving on the highway, or flushed down the toilet, or left out in one of the many snowstorms we had this winter, or . . . well, the possibilities are endless.

But I digress, we stayed home. While our King's Cake was in the oven, the Salad decorated masks and I taught them about Mardi Gras, or Fat Tuesday. They also know that St. Patrick's Day is coming up and A has been getting confused, asking when Fat Patrick's Day is. Cracks me up every time.

But I digress, we decorated masks. Then we colored some jesters and practiced our letters writing MARDI GRAS. Before lunch, we gathered a bag of clementines and candy and beads for our "parade" later in the afternoon. I taught them the words to "When the Saints Go Marching In." Of course that opened a can of worms I was unprepared for, when asked where do the saints march into?

But I digress, we learned the song. After quiet time, I asked them each to choose a dress up outfit and a musical instrument. Then we had our parade and I marched that Salad through every room of our house. I even marched them into the half bath in our master bedroom, herding them like cattle into a room measuring 3' x 3'. They laughed hysterically when I started throwing clementines, candy and beads at them, all the while singing and playing "When the Saints Go Marching In." It was at precisely this moment that our friends down the street knocked on our door to invite us to play, but we were singing so loudly that we didn't hear them. What must we have looked like to their nanny as she peeked in our window, me throwing fruit at a disorganized marching band of youngsters?

But I digress, we marched. We finished off Fat Patrick's Day with Bourbon Chicken, King's Cake and big smiles.

The Girl who Loves Food

2011-03-13T17:50:00.001-04:00

I write on this blog as a way of remembering the little things. The minutiae of life with many small children. Often times I will write something they have said down on a scrap of paper and chuck it into a file on our desk. This weekend, while cleaning out that file, I noticed a trend. I ask A a question about anything, she answers about food. Me: What should we make with the play dough?
A: Turkey. And Mr. Golden Sunshine.

Me: What would you like to talk about?
A: Ummmmm, how about M & Ms?

R (drawing everyone pictures at the diner one morning): What would you like me to draw for you?
A: How about you draw hummus?

Me: Who wants to go to the movies?!
A: Can we have popcorn?

So, a Salad walks into a movie theater . . .

2011-03-11T20:50:00.000-05:00

My parents and I took the Salad to see

while R was away in February. We went to a matinee on a Tuesday. The only other people in the theater were parents with preschool aged children. And thank goodness for that because at least they understood when M asked over and over and over and over if we "could leave now."

Oh M, Oh M, wherefore art thou, M?

Allow me to answer that . . .

you're in a theater, kid, now sit down and enjoy the movie, 'cause you're here till the end.

A Very Merry UN-birthday

2011-03-10T09:40:00.001-05:00

In the middle of January, we start getting antsy. It's frigid, not just cold. It's icy, not just snowy. So we pull out all the stops when looking at outings. R and I saw that Hagley Museum was hosting its annual Invention Convention. I thought M would go bananas to be allowed to use real tools to dismantle actual appliances. And he was excited, but bananas? Not really.

The girls on the other hand spent 45 minutes intensely focused on disassembling a sewing machine. They each found a spool of white thread forgotten in the depths of the machine and promptly pocketed them to "do something with later." They were like mad scientists.
We left shortly after a chemistry demonstration scared the heck outta them. Small room + loud chemical reaction = unhappy Salad. R and I took them out for Mexican food on our way home and the 3 of them formulated a plan to blow up lots of balloons to decorate for the "birthday party" when we got home. Whose party, I wondered? Nobody's, they answered mysteriously.

They really got into it, asking for streamers and to make party hats. It kept them busy for well over an hour, playing so nicely that as a reward, I got out our party plates and lit a candle for them to blow out on their fruit bars.
Why can't peace always come this easily?

Oh well, off to sing happy birthday to nobody.