Indeed.

Most ill-advised homework assignment ever given to a bunch of six-year-olds:

"What rhymes with heart? Write the words inside heart shapes."

Pick Your Plague

Just for kicks, let's count how many outfits I had on yesterday:

1) Nice dress for breakfast at the hotel club room;
2) Desert hiking clothes, which Zach then threw up on, leading to
3) Desert hiking clothes #2; which I was wearing when Zach fell in a mud puddle and then wanted to be carried, so I changed into;
4) Swimsuit and cover-up for swimming at the hotel pool, and then as we got ready to check out I changed into;
5) Long pants, sweat jacket and boots for lunch and drive up the mountain; changing when we got there into
6) Extra sweat jacket, snow boots, and snow gloves for impromptu snowball fight at the top of the mountain; and then back into
7) Regular boots and one sweat jacket for the drive home to the beach, after which Zach threw up on me again so I changed into
8) Pajamas and a sweatshirt, which Zach threw up on again, so I finally changed into
9) One last set of pajamas.

Still with me? It seems that our house has been visited upon by several plagues. The first plague of Lice was discussed earlier and I don't think there's much more to say about that. Throughout the week we battled Excessive Mucus and Diarrhea. Yesterday we were up against Vomiting and Car Stuck On Check Engine Light. Have I missed any? Can someone let me know what might come next so I can be prepared for, say, a whole lotta frogs?

(Plague-related aside: When Dave first met me he was absolutely horrified to learn that my parents lived on Locust Street. He had no idea it was also the name of a tree.)

Just to be clear: Yes, I love the fact that we were able to take a (free - woo-hoo, Hyatt points!) trip to the desert mid-week in February. I love the fact that we can hike in the desert and then head straight up the mountain and play in the snow two hours later. I love being with Dave and the boys. I just wish the whole trip had been a little less vomit-y.

While we were sitting at the restaurant on Wednesday night I started getting a little weepy and nostalgic about times past in Palm Springs....when days would be spent blissing out at the pool, getting spa treatments, checking out new restaurants, or shopping for hours at the outlets; and nighttime would mean a trip to the casino or just hanging out in the hot tub and staring up at the stars.

These days we find ourselves on a quest to discover a whole new current of desert life. We'll choose a hotel based not on whether we can walk to the downtown restaurants, but on what kind of water slide they have. We've been scouting out the local miniature golf courses. We have to go to restaurants with kids' menus, or at least restaurants where it's acceptable to bring your toys and books along. There's no outlet shopping, for now, and no casino time, but there's really no point at the moment because it's not much fun without any money to spend. But even despite all of this, I can't imagine going to the desert without the boys - I'd miss them too much, and besides, I'd have nothing to complain about.

I continue to be astonished about how much Zach remembers from the last time we were in the desert (nine months ago). As soon as we got to down to the pools he made a beeline across the pool complex to get to the "hot" pool. He and I are alike in that we love love love sitting around in hot hot hot water. Also as soon as we parked at the Mexican restaurant he announced, "This restaurant has candy in front!" and went straight for the candy bowl in the lobby (and visited it again numerous times throughout the meal).

Now here's something even more curious (although perhaps only interesting to me): He slept for most of the drive up the mountain. When he woke up, we told him that we were going to stop at a little town and then go play in the snow. He thought about this and then said, "I'd like to get a nice donut with blue frosting and sprinkles." Huh!?!? Then I remembered that before we went up to the snowy mountain last February (a whole year ago), we stopped at a little donut shop and he got a donut with blue frosting and sprinkles. It's amazing what memories make lasting imprints on a mind.

Luke has had a banner week for his week off. He went to a day camp on Monday (theme day: puppy party) and he had such a great time he begged begged begged to go back on Tuesday. So we sent him off in the morning before we left for the desert. I wasn't thrilled about spending the extra money, but I was happy to see him happy about anything that did not involve new Lego sets. (Activities included watching The Clone Wars, playing Wii bowling, doing spin art, playing with the aforementioned puppies, being entertained by a magician -- in other words, just a typical day at Joe's house.)

I don't think I can match that level of excitement today, but the boys and I are just going to chill out while Dave goes for his run, maybe go on a post-rain worm hunt, and do the last round of lice shampoo. And while I'm at it, I think I'd better check to see if anyone has developed any boils.

All Creatures Great and Small

We had a week of happy dog-lovin', thanks to Elizabeth's visiting dog Casey, who came over to be with us in the afternoons this week. Casey is a gentle giant, a 100-pound beast of a dog who literally would not hurt a flea. Even when boys stumble and fall on her head while she is sleeping (ahem), her response is to open one eye, look around, say the dog equivalent of "eh?" and then go back to sleep.

When we first put Casey in the car to bring her back to the house Luke was literally shaking with excitement. I thought he was going to cry. And who knew he would be such a good dog walker? Walking a dog allows him to be the boss he always wants to be. But he's gentle and encouraging, and it really seems to bring out the best in him.

Zach loves Casey too, but in a different way. Casey just seems to fuel his excitement for the day, and gets him running around in circles. When Casey first came upstairs, the boys were set on creating a dog bed for her out of pillows, and Zach enthusiastically contributed his blankets and all of his stuffed animals to the collection. And who knew it would be harder to walk a two-year-old than a dog? Casey will pretty much go wherever you want her to go, but Zach will gleefully run off without a care, giving the rest of us a minor heart attack. Luckily Casey will pretty much just hang out in one place if you let go of her leash to chase down your two-year-old.

And then... beach day. What a great afternoon we had, hiking down to the dog beach, collecting rocks, throwing sticks to Casey, and watching Casey make friends with an impossibly small, fluffy Maltese.

Later, after we had said goodbye to Casey, I was washing Luke's hair and I noticed all sorts of creatures living in there. I spent nearly an hour combing and plucking them out (and if this makes you feel itchy, imagine how I felt). I assumed they were fleas left over from a day at the dog beach, but Dave saved one and studied various pictures on the web, and shortly after we finally got Luke to bed, told me, "I hate to break this to you, but..." Yep. Head lice.

So today, Valentine's Day, the blissfully lice-free Dave and Zach are off at a train show, while Luke and I are doing loads of laundry and getting lice shampoo. I don't think I have any, but I feel just itchy enough that I'm ready to jump in a vat of lye if that's what it takes to get rid of this feeling. De-lousing: It's every woman's fantasy Valentine's Day, and I'm living the dream.

Bath/Mud/Bath

Ahhh, a rainy Southern California winter morning. Just me and the boys, hanging out, cozy inside while Dave was on a training run. Toys, TV, art projects, science experiments...The boys were such happy campers they decided it would be fun to have a shower/bath together. So they got all shampooed, conditioned, and squeaky clean; then we put on fresh dry clothes so we could go on a few errands.

And then, we stepped outside, and looky here - the rain had stopped. "I want to go stomp in some mud puddles," Zach announced. And that marked the official end of anything clean that happened today.

Zach got so completely wet and muddy... How muddy did he get? He got so muddy that he actually halted the peewee football practice that was going on at the field. "Look how muddy that little guy is!" declared one boy, and the others all stopped in their tracks to stare. (That's right, a bunch of nine-year-olds playing football on the field after the rain stopped to look at Zach because he was such a sight.)

After we got home Zach decided to lie down in the driveway - note the puddle of water beginning to form around his right boot - possibly because the sheer weight of water was dragging him down. And yes, that's Luke's nice new oatmeal-colored shirt from Grandma Joan, instantly transformed into... er... cinnamon raisin oatmeal?

This afternoon (after we got clean again) while Dave wrapped up some t-ball business, Elizabeth and I took the boys out for frozen yogurt. Chocolate yogurt. Which means you-know-who got you-know-what all over his you-know-what again. Sigh. My washing machine never stops.

Last night at the arcade Luke won a little packet of capsules that you submerge in water and they expand to turn into safari animal sponges. We had a great time watching them all grow according to the pictures on the back of the package - cheetah, rhino, zebra, elephant, wildebeest, giraffe, monkey, and then... what? One of them came out looking like no animal I've ever seen; like a camel with a thyroid condition. We are still scratching our heads over that one, though it gave us some good chuckles.

And now for today's moment of Zen: While we were watching the capsules expand in the water, Zach started to make a swishing noise with his mouth. "Zach, did you drink some of the water? Did you? Did you?" I asked him. He didn't answer at first, then he looked at me solemnly and said, "Mom, we are flashlights."

(But no, he didn't drink it.)

Par

Stop me if you've heard this already: Zach is beginning to enjoy "grown-up" time in the bathroom. He strips himself down, completely naked, then stands in front of the toilet for as long as 30 minutes at a time, waiting for something to happen. I'm not sure if anything happens or not because he flushes multiple times while standing there, so who knows? The point is that he has the intent, the determination, and the enthusiasm to do what he needs to do. (That little strangling noise you hear is the figurative sound of Teenaged Zach reading this and dying from complete and utter mortification.)

Luke is quite the little personality study. Here is a guy, for instance, who has only a marginal amount of enthusiasm for riding a bike, but who would happily spend an hour taking apart and putting back together his bike bell. So you can understand why I seized the opportunity to sign him up for an after-school science enrichment class. But who knew - the class is centered around a "detective" theme and for this week they asked the kids to dress up in spy gear (trench coats, sunglasses, hats, etc.). Few things are more abhorrent to Luke than the idea of dressing up in a costume (except for one night of the year on Halloween when large amounts of candy are involved) or performing any kind of unnecessary clothing change, so he begged me to switch him to a golf class that is running at the same time.

Golf? Yeah, turns out he got a little intrigued when he heard Dave make some reference to Tiger Woods having made a billion dollars playing golf. A million, a billion - soon you're talking about a lot of Lego sets. He also played a round of miniature golf last week, and it convinced him that it was definitely a sport worth pursuing. So he did the little golf class today, reported back that it was pretty good, and is preparing for his new career. Tonight when I was tucking him in I told him that my grandmother loved golf and one time won a special prize for getting a hole in one. What was the special prize, he wanted to know. Ummmm.... Anyone? I think it was a free meal at the clubhouse. So, OK, even if there's not a billion dollars, there might someday be a free lunch in it for him.