Rock/Star

At times lately it seems like Luke has been lost in a fog of crankiness, and I'm not exactly sure what's going on in that little brain of his, but I like to think he's going through some important developmental stuff. Every now and then I get a little glimmer of hope when he breaks through and comes up with something amazing.

Last weekend at the pool with his second cousins Jessie and Alex, Luke was pretty scared about going down the two-story water slide by himself. But (unlike the water slide in Palm Springs) you can only go down one person at a time, so he had to either face up to the pressure to do it alone, or skip it. And would you believe, by the end of an hour, he was joyfully sliding down and even swimming to the ladder by himself, under the watchful eyes of his older cousins. Feeling even more proud and independent, he went off with them to the hot tub while the boring old grownups (and Zach) sat around and talked at the other end of the pool area. Sometimes I think he just needs to be around other kids (especially older kids) to get that extra boost of self-esteem and confidence he needs.

Also this week it was Luke's turn to be Star of the Week at school. Among the many things that the Star gets to do is to bring in a bag filled with "favorite things" and do kind of an extended show-and-tell in front of the class. I know his teacher and most of the kids expected it to be an all-Lego presentation, so they must have been pleasantly surprised to hear him talk about all of his rocks and crystals. I sat in the back beaming with pride as he went through his little bag. "This is hematite... and this is quartz... and this one is amethyst... and here's a geode..." He got special oohs and aaahs from the girls in his class when he showed them the pearl that he and I plucked out of an oyster last weekend. "I could do this every day," he told me later. That's a vast improvement over the stage fright he's been having lately.

As promised, here is a picture of Zach and his enormous rocket balloon. You can save your jokes about the big black balloon that is the centerpiece of the whole thing, because the balloon "entertainer" already made most of those jokes while she had me hold it for her.

Also, here's just one of those amazing little things that happens on a daily basis: Zach was quietly building Legos on the floor, when he held this up and said, "Look, Mom, I built a satellite." [Pause for silent expression of shock and awe.] Luke said, "Maybe he should go in the Guinness Book of World Records for 'Best Lego Creation Built By Someone Who Is Only Three.'" Yeah. What he said.

Zach had his first dentist appointment today and did it all by himself - literally. They shooed me out into the waiting room before I even had a chance to say goodbye. I guess it was a good thing, because he rose to the occasion, was super-brave, and I never really heard a peep out of him. Now for the sad part: One of the teeth that he chipped is starting to show signs of abscess so he will have to have it pulled. Yes, for those keeping score at home, it's the EXACT same thing that happened to Luke. I haven't scheduled the appointment yet because I'm in a little mourning period for his sweet baby smile. However, as Dave pointed out, "Now they'll look even more like brothers."

Three Days of Three

Here's our three-year-old star, off and wheeling. (The bike is currently configured as a pseudo balance bike, with training wheels but no pedals, so he's just kind of scooting along on it.)

Instead of having just one, boring old birthday, Zach had three days to savor the treats (Panda Express for dinner! Costco balloon cake!) and open presents. (Of course I'm being a little facetious, but I'm trying to hide my guilt about not doing a party-party for him.)

On Friday, the actual birthday, we all went out for Chinese food and inflated more than a few a few balloons in the house. On Saturday he opened his new Automoblox from Uncle Joe and had a great time building, racing, and rebuilding with Luke. Then on Sunday, we dropped Luke off at Suzi and Bill's and then took Zach to "special other Legoland," his favorite kiddie amusement park. I'm sure there's some special thrill for the second kid to get full-on attention from both parents at one time, but as it turned out, Zach only wanted to go on rides with Dave. And really, who wouldn't?

After dinner we all reconvened back at Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house for cake (meant to serve 25 to 30) and presents. Speaking of Costco cake, I'm currently battling some inner demons that are telling me to GO EAT MORE CAKE in the refrigerator. I don't know what it is about that cake (well, I do know, and it has partly to do with the chocolate mousse filling) but it is absolutely addicting, which is great news for Costco and bad news for my abdomen.

Anycake, Luke was having a little bit of a hard time watching Zach get all of the treats, but he did manage to save a small amount of good will for Zach's present-opening time. He stood behind him, offering assistance, ooh-ing and ah-ing, and applauding when necessary. Luke also had a little flash of maturity when it came to letting Zach win the battle over who is "six." "OK, Zach, you're six," Luke conceded. "But if you're gonna be six, why don't you USE THE BATHROOM INSTEAD OF A DIAPER!?!?" Can't really argue with that logic.

Of course there were a whole mess of other things that happened this weekend, from a great afternoon at the resort pool with Cousin Jennifer, Jamie, and the girls; to a romantic date with Dave to celebrate Anniversary #11, facilitated by Suzi and Bill's babysitting services.

But today I was still feeling sort of Zach birthday-ish, so when Hatcher's mom offered to take Luke, and I found myself alone with Zach for an hour, we went to the farmers' market and took another train ride. And wouldn't you know it, the balloon lady was there, and Zach went bananas. He wanted her to make a blimp, and although she didn't have an exact plan for a blimp, you could tell she really wanted to make something work. So a whole bunch of kids sat there with amazing patience while she inflated... twisted... bent ... tied off... assessed... scrapped and started over... inflated... twisted... bent... and finally completed the most enormous black rocketship thingie you've ever seen - it's at least four feet long. I guess this is a time when a picture actually would come in handy. But I'll just leave it to your imagination while you try to picture a three-year-old boy, holding a rocket bigger than he is, and ZOOMing it through the sky.

Three

"I am sick," Luke announces.
Zach: "No, I am sick!"
Luke: "No, you are not sick. I am sick."
Zach: "No. I am sick and you are three."

Hahaha. We've had some recurring theme on that conversation going on all week. Dave even had to explain to Zach's teachers that when they sang "Happy Birthday" to him on Thursday, not to be alarmed if Zach told them he was "sick."

Speaking of funny stuff the kids said, I had been mentally collecting all sorts of "Kids Say the Darnedest Things" type quotes to use in some future blog. Then Luke's friend Hiyasmin did one better than any of the boys today. She came rushing up to the front door of kindergarten this morning, breathless with excitement. "My dog got pregnant today!" she announced. Now imagine all of the parents exchanging concerned looks. Turns out she meant that her dog had puppies today. Ohhhh. So, anyway, never mind about the other funny stuff my kids said.

Zach is three today, and it's like he's always been three. He's full of interesting observations, thoughtful questions, and yummy-gummy sweet goodness. He has a refreshing blend of maturity and sweet innocence; he insists that all he wants for his birthday is a black balloon. I just love three. In fact, sometimes I'd like a little more "three" in the house and a little less "six." But we'll get to six soon enough. For now, we're just happy to have a weekend-long celebration of this little blond angel who happens to live in our house.

I love you, my three-year-old boy.

The Ick

I want to get the credit for having been the first to say it this morning, "I'm not feeling so well." So the boys and I kind of lumped around for the morning, with me trying to lead as many stationary activities as possible. Then we took Luke to kindergarten, and less than two hours later I got the phone call: "Luke threw up in his class. Please come pick him up." So of course I called Dave to tell him about the misery that was piling on my day, and he came home, ostensibly to "help" (sorry, Dave) but wound up crashed out in bed with his own sickness for about two hours of the afternoon.

The weird thing (fingers crossed) is that Dave, Luke, and I are all down and out but Zach appears to be just fine for the moment. I don't know whether it's something only the three of us ate, or whether it's some virus that passed Zach by. But before I get tempted to go into any more details about our respective illnesses, here's what Zach did yesterday after his racing triumph: Dave took him down to Long Beach for the Grand Prix and wound up getting a $125 grandstand ticket at the finish line for only $25. Then they got a personal escort to their seats via golf cart (and a personalized ear plug fitting) by some race official. (This is the kind of accidental VIP thing that happens to Dave all the time, by the way.)

Then on the way home the two of them stopped off at a local carnival and Zach threw some darts at a pop-a-balloon game (with some assistance), winning a new dog he calls "Poppy." To finish off the day, he ran a few laps around the track, with Poppy in his arms of course. Keep on truckin', Zach.

And in Second Place...

There was a local kids' running race this morning, and we signed up both boys to run in their respective age races. Luke didn't want to run the half-mile race, and by the time we got there and he saw the crowd, he was even more sure of it, so he sat it out on the sidelines (whoops, that race t-shirt just cost us $25). But Zach didn't know enough to know he had a choice, and the two-year-olds almost all seemed to be running with parents, so when the time came for his 25-meter race, he happily took off with Dave.

Turns out if you have a bunch of two-year-olds running, it's generally chaos, and who knows who really finished first. But Zach made it through the chute, got his finishers' medal, and everyone was happy, so we were ready to call it a day and head back to the car. But then I heard them announcing the results for the kids' races, and just on a whim, we decided to wait.

A few minutes later we heard the announcement: "And for the two-year-old boys, in second place...Zachary - " and we whooped with joy as we helped Zach up to the Olympic-style podium. There he stood as they gave him a special 2nd-place medal to wear around his neck. Did any of the kids have any idea what was going on? Of course not. But it was oh-so-picture-worthy.

Of course these stories should always come with a real-life footnote: This time, the irony was that Luke was driven mad with jealousy about Zach's medals; and Zach was singularly uninterested in the medals. All he cared about was the fact that he had found a deflated, dirty blue balloon, which he hung on to for the duration of the race and afterwards. Because it's a balloon. So there you have it. Race over.

"Will you take a picture of me next to this butt?"

The best day ever: a t-ball game, followed by a hot dog party for the team at our house. Then we clean up and go to the California Science Center, look at airplanes and spaceships, run around in the Rose Garden, and visit the beautiful human body sculptures outside the Coliseum.

Can today be as good as or better than yesterday?

Station Stop

Here is Zach's new way of trotting down the street: Run run run run run run run run STOP. "Station stop!" he'll announce, face impassive. He pauses for a minute, then says, "Beep!" and continues running. Repeat.

Here is Zach's eating strategy for Passover: Eggs? Nom nom nom. Apples? Nom nom nom. Matzoh ball soup? Nom nom nom. He looks around for more food, looking, looking, and Dave slides a plate of gefilte fish in front of him. Zach shrugs and digs in. Nom nom nom.

Here is one of Luke's latest schemes to earn money: He's making posters to advertise his new security service. Pay $25, get a bomb. Pay $200, get an army tank. "It'll help protect people," he tells me. "It will save lives. I think it will save so many lives, people will want to elect me president. But I don't want to be president. I just want to be the head money guy."

It's probably a little bit trite, but I'll say it anyway: Things are rarely boring around here. It can get ugly and even violent at times (think pounding, pinching, biting, and head-butting), but it's almost always interesting.

We just survived Luke's week of spring break, which featured, among other things, camp with puppies and reptiles (not on the same day), a trip to the science center, and an excursion to my old office (Why is this interesting for the boys? Candy in every cubicle). We celebrated Bill's landmark birthday with a huge crowd of friends and family at a restaurant on Friday. We journeyed up to the new Angels Flight on Saturday. We did our traditional Eastover celebration (egg hunt in the morning, Seder in the evening) with Dave's family. We went out to our local gourmet brew-pub to celebrate Dave's birthday. And now I need a vacation. (Kidding!) (OK, only sorta...)

Right now I am sitting on the couch while Dave is curled up with Luke and Zach on the recliner, watching YouTube space videos on the computer. I am subdued; a former colleague of mine died this week and I can't stop thinking about him. He was just an all-around good guy, maybe a little quiet to those who didn't know him well. But he lived his life almost entirely at work, for all we knew. He had no spouse, no siblings, no kids... and though he was well-liked and could have certainly had a life surrounded by people, he for whatever reason spent most of his life alone. And sadly, that's how he died in the hospital on Wednesday.

For me, this is almost entirely too hard to comprehend. I lived alone for a year or two, and while I enjoyed it, I also had times when I craved any kind of human contact. Somehow I managed to cure that feeling to the extreme. These days, even if I'm doing something ostensibly private like taking a shower, there's almost always some small person wandering in the door looking for me. Life is messier this way, but it's definitely the way I prefer it.

So I don't know if my colleague was happy with the way things were in his life -- if he had chosen to be alone or if he had simply become resigned to it. But looking at him through my (admittedly skewed) prism, it seems almost incomprehensibly sad. I feel better knowing that he is in a peaceful place now. And again, although it sounds trite, it's the kind of thing that makes me want to give the kids a little extra attention and a few extra hugs, because I need and want that kind of contact, and I hope they continue to need and want it too.

J/K

Yeah, we celebrate April Fool's Day. You got a problem with that? Right here you've got your meatloaf and mashed potato "cupcakes" for dinner, courtesy of my friend Chelsea's Breezy Mama site.

For dessert you've got your "grilled cheese" sandwiches, courtesy of CakeWrecks. (Slices of pound cake with yellow frosting in between.)

If you can possibly read the words on the green paper, these are the place cards that Luke made: "Happy Birthday," "Happy Valentine's Day," "Merry Christmas," and "Happy Election Day" (for Dave). And of course, they all say "April Fools" on the back. Heh.