Deeply flawed

Every now and then we have one of those rare moments when the boys are filled with love for each other and just can't stop hugging and kissing. Usually those periods are followed by sharp, heavy blows to each other's bodies. But this time at least I caught the happy time on camera. This also marked the first time both boys went in the pool without me (I was sitting on the edge taking pictures) and I guess since Zach likes having something to hang on to, he decided that Luke was the next best thing.

Zach is absolutely loving his "new big kids school" a.k.a. the three-year-old class. He holds tightly onto his baby kitten throughout the day, yet each day he comes back reporting that he has been having a great time. I thought all was hunky-dory until the teacher told me last Thursday that he had bitten another kid. Biting? I guess I just associate biting with the worst of the worst - the kids with serious behavioral issues. But fortunately the teacher (who has known him since he was born) is gentle, philosophical, well-trained, and empathetic; and she's been working with and watching him closely. At home, Zach will suddenly declare out of the blue, "I will not bite or hit my friends anymore," or sometimes, "Teeth are for food!" and so far, no more biting. But every now and then when Zach says, "I love my friends at school!" Dave and I give each other a look and we each know that we're mentally finishing his sentence with our own private joke: "...because they're so delicious!"

Luke is also having a great time in school, and appears to be doing quite well. So far he is the only kid in the class to ace all of the spelling tests, and he's having fun with the reading and the math. But then his teacher told me yesterday, "He's a little bit of a mystery to me. Sometimes I am not sure if I'm getting through to him - he seems like he's daydreaming a lot, or just in his own little world. Is he like that at home?" Um, well, we do call him the Absent-Minded Professor. And just after that we got into the car to go pick up Zach, and Luke discovered once we got there that he only had his socks on and no shoes. "Where exactly did you think we were going when you got in the car?" I asked him, after he claimed not to have known. Theories abound as to this behavior: He's a dreamer; he's bored; his brain is roasted from the DS... Is there a problem? His teacher says we are going to watch it, but for now I'm going to come down on the side of "dreamer."

What I'm trying to say is that even though these boys may appear to be significantly flawed on the surface, I have a little secret, which is that they are in fact, absolutely perfect. To me. That's why even though there is plenty more to say on various educational, financial, medical, and developmental issues; I will just leave it at this, with a picture of two brothers mugging and hugging, and having a great time being perfect/not-perfect together.

Fixins

Not sure what to do while Dave is off on a long run? Never fear; I've found the recipe:

Boy Entertaining Stew (serves 2)

Bunch of sticks
Clump of rocks
Several heavy logs
Waterfall
2 ponds
15 hungry koi fish
1/2 cup fish pellets
5 shy turtles
10 vocal ducks
2 bottles of water
2 cups grapes
2 corn dog muffins
Preheat outdoors to 70 degrees. Add sunshine. Mix all ingredients together in large wilderness park, being careful to keep boys separated. Dispose of all trash in appropriate containers. Repeat.

Playthings

If you happened to visit our house any time between March and August, you may have noticed an item on our white board shopping list, written in kid handwriting: "VCRAC." It stands for Venator-Class Republic Attack Cruiser, a monumentally large Lego set, and Luke wrote its initials up there in the hopes that someone would slip up while buying groceries and one of those would just happen to wind up in the shopping basket.

Well, it didn't happen that way, but the fact that it's been up there illustrates just how long Luke has been yearning for this thing. At some point we got him focused on the idea of working toward a long-term goal, and for the last several months, he has been squirreling his money away. Dave set up a few ground rules for him for summer drink sales (limited number, you must pay for your own supplies, etc); and on Memorial Day, July 4th, Labor Day, and a few other summer weekends, Luke relentlessly hawked his cold drinks down at the beach for $1 apiece.

Five months and $119 later, he finally reached his goal. (If you think about five months, it's really kind of a long time for a little guy like him to save up for something - 6 percent of his life to be exact.) Dave even helped him find a VCRAC on eBay - for $10 less than the ToysRUs price - so he was especially proud to get a bargain.

Needless to say when it arrived in the mail yesterday it was a cause for much rejoicing. Luke invited his friend Shane over to help with the ceremonial unpacking and Lego organizing. We set up a table for him down in the office, and now he is deep in the building phase.

I don't have high hopes for the future of this creation, given the tendency of expensive Lego sets to get destroyed in our house. But I am incredibly impressed with how patient he was (for a 6-year-old) over such a long time to hold out for something really special. I just hope it lasts long enough for him to enjoy it while he saves up for the next big thing.

Zach is on an involuntary leave from school, and it's been a real pain in the... Well, let's put it this way: Zach had an odd rash on his bottom. When they cultured it they found that it was MRSA, so he was effectively banned from preschool until it heals. I know he's enjoyed his time at home, but I also know that the infection has been incredibly painful, based on its location, and based on some of the things the doctor had to do to try to cure it. Oh, and he has an ear infection to boot. So even though it's been massively inconvenient (and expensive) for us to manage this while I attempt to start a new job, I have nothing but sympathy for the little guy. He's probably been in extreme misery.

On the first day it was diagnosed, after an excruciating doctor's visit, I took him to the CVS and while we waited for a prescription I told him he could pick out a toy. The first one he picked out was $24.99 and I had to backpedal, "I didn't mean that kind of toy." After several rounds of negotiations, he finally settled on a smaller toy that was $18.99, and by that point I was worn down enough to say OK. But just as we were about to check out, he saw a very small kitten in a stuffed animal display. He tossed aside the other toy, grabbed the kitten (only $3.99 - woo-hoo!) and literally has not put the kitten down since.

Considering that he has, oh, I don't know, about a thousand other stuffed animals, I don't know why the kitten has such a hold on him. (On Monday at the wilderness park, Zach fed the fish, climbed over rocks and logs, and dangled his feet in an ice-cold stream, all with the kitten tucked safely under his arm.) I think there must be something about the uncertainty of pain or illness where you look for whatever reliable comfort you can find, and in the kitten he has found a small, portable comfort zone. Come to think of it, I should have bought three or four of them as backup for the day when he inevitably loses the kitten or leaves it at the edge of a stream somewhere. I've learned that when a boy has his mind set on a certain toy, nothing else will do.

Round Two

The other day we were at a park and while Luke was playing soccer with his teammates, Zach somehow got clobbered with the ball. There was lots of crying and a tiny bit of blood on his lip, so we took him to our friend's house next door, where she made a little ice pack and held it gently up against his mouth. He sat there quietly with tears pooled in his eyes, until she lifted off the ice pack. Then he wiped away a tear, turned his little face up to her and said, "Can I see your water heater?"

Ladies and gentlemen (or "Ladies and mans," as Zach might say), we have another hazard light situation on our hands.

I think we're going to have to blame my dad for starting this one. He got Zach fascinated with the whole idea of having two water heaters in the basement. I think there's also the attraction of water going through pipes, and a plumbing system that is somehow related to the toilet. Exhibit A: Zach needed to visit the water heater several times during a visit to Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house. Exhibit B: When he's going to sleep, he likes to run through the list of neighbors to talk about where their water heaters are located. Exhibit C: When I was reading "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" to him this morning, he was concerned because the illustration of the farmhouse did not include a picture of the water heater. Exhibit D (pictured): We were at the beautiful beachfront in Santa Barbara and instead of checking out the scenery he wanted to stay and listen to the water rushing through the pipes. (OK, Luke did too, but they're boys; what can I say?) The other day Luke was teasing him and told him that we had "water heater lollipops" for dessert, but now the problem is that Zach is continuing to look for them.

Oh, and Luke started first grade last week. How does he like it? Who are his new friends? How does he like his teacher? What do they do during the day? I don't really have good answers to these questions. After school he runs off with his friends and he hasn't spent much time on reflection. (This is basically a good thing, by the way, even though I'm dying for more information.) Also Zach started in the 3-year-old class, and two out of 10 boys are named Cassius. Go figure.

The other day I cleared off Luke's shelf in his bedroom, and besides finding a dollar and a months-old peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I found his long-lost magic wand. So on Sunday night at Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house, Luke decided to put on a magic show. More accurately, he decided to "manage" a magic show, which involved directing his assistants to fall asleep or stop talking at the flick of a wand.

Luke was getting so much attention and applause that Zach decided to tell a story of his own. The story ended with, "...and then he fell into the...toilet!" When the story was met with awkward silence, Zach was undaunted. "Laugh about that!" he commanded the group. Another manager in the house. Great.

Summer flashback

I can't believe summer is "over" (not that it was ever really here; today it's in the low 60s). But fortunately, it lives on through pictures and I'm so glad my dad just sent me these from our trip back to the sweltering East Coast last month. You'll notice in the first one we have Zach gleefully spraying the older boys with the hose (and they were surprisingly compliant about letting him be in control of it).

Now their plan comes into full view in the second picture, where they bend a kink into the hose. Note the classically befuddled look on Zach's face. As my dad observes, staring into the end of a non-working hose is one of the classic setups from a slapstick '30s or '40s comedy. This is one of those few pictures that makes me laugh every single time I look at it. Priceless.

Martha freakin' Stewart

...is what you might have called me, if I had actually managed to hang this wreath on the first day of summer rather than the last.

Instead, I'm just the crazy neighborhood lady who makes these little seasonally inappropriate crafty things and hangs them on her door for no apparent reason. I guess that's what old age does to you.