Demented

"Luke is having another party?" Zach asked, echoing all of our thoughts. Yes, it's the third time in three weeks that we've lit a candle on top of a cake and sung to Luke. What can I say? I love parties, and the prospect of throwing a Harry Potter party was nearly irresistible to me.

This party was distinguished by me setting impossibly lofty goals and Dave absolutely rising to the occasion. Specifically, he created the most incredible Quidditch game ever seen outside of a movie theater. I wasn't sure how he was going to pull it off, but he did. All of the parents watched in amazement as he patiently duct-taped his PVC piping to a series of three (spray-painted) maroon and gold hula hoops, and then hammered the pipes into the ground. Minutes later, he had a bunch of six- and seven-year-old boys whooping it up on the Quidditch field.

Next (and all of this was made possible by the most beautiful weather at our favorite park - note all of the kids in shorts and t-shirts) we had a magician do a cool show for us. This was the same guy we had seen a few weeks ago at the library and he was good despite an audience full of wise-guy kids. For his levitation act he brought up the only girl in the audience (Luke's friend's sister) and asked Luke to kiss her to break the spell. Imagine Luke being completely mortified as all of his friends chanted, "Do it! Do it! Do it!" (He did not.)

Here is the cake - I don't have much to say about it, except that it's certainly no hand-rolled white chocolate mummy cake. I ordered it from Costco and asked them to leave it blank and then I added the lightning bolts. I love Costco cakes for big parties - they're huge, they're cheap, and they have this very light and fluffy custard filling that everyone always says is so delicious. Why pay more?

Last, we had the dementor pinata, for which I have to give myself at least a little credit. I looked at a few stores and no one had any pinata resembling a Harry Potter creature, and the other choices (making my own pinata or paying through the nose to have someone make one) were unappealing. So when I saw a white ghost pinata at one store, I decided it was the best option out there. I spray-painted it black, attached long black streamers to it, and - voila! - instant dementor.

While I was reading about pinata-making, I came across the idea that instead of filling the pinata with pieces of candy, you should fill it with bags of candy so that when it breaks open everyone gets a bag (instead of kids beating each other up over individual pieces of candy). I presented the idea to Dave and he liked it, although he added, "It's so...Berkeley." I hooted with glee, "That's probably because I got the idea from the Berkeley Parents' Network!" Anyway, when the pinata broke, the kids grabbed the bags, some kids grabbed more than one bag, and it was still all good.

Last but not least I have to mention Zach. Suzi and her friend Linda were at the party and had helpfully volunteered to keep an eye on Zach, but he really didn't need it. Instead of playing with the toys he had brought to the park, he chose to spend the time decorating the table for the party. Then during the magic show, he decided that he needed to bring everyone a drink, so he trotted dutifully back and forth from the cooler, handing each adult a bottle of water.

Clearly, he is headed for a career in hospitality, because today after we were in the pool, Zach laid out his towel in my room and announced that we were having a picnic. "I'll be right back with the food from the restaurant," he said. I was picturing maybe a pile of marbles or dominoes, but instead he came back with a large plate of blueberries, strawberries, and watermelon. Then he rushed off and returned with a cheese course. Then, moments later he arrived with marshmallows and energy bars. Then a slice of ham. Next came the crudite - carrot sticks, celery sticks, red pepper spears, and tomatoes. And finally he brought out a small pile of raisins. It was the best picnic I've ever had on the floor of my bedroom, made even better because of two small boys giggling throughout.

So to recap: Me and Dave = party planners extraordinaire. Zach = host with the most. Luke = one well-celebrated kid. 

Kids today

I can't think of any other way to describe Zach's newfound abilities except to say that he is a joy to watch. He seems happier and probably even proud of himself for being an underpants-wearing, letter-writing member of society. He had his first playdate with his friend Alex and it went swimmingly - so well, in fact, that Alex and his mom stayed for a whopping 4 1/2 hours (Alex didn't want to leave). And then, in the way that little kids do, Alex suddenly declared, "I'm ready to leave now!" and started walking out the door.
Alex and Zach have many things in common, most amazingly the fact that Alex was a preemie at the same hospital as Zach - he arrived just 6 days after Zach went home from the NICU. Alex's mom had a very similar situation to mine, except her water broke and the baby just came, so Alex was a little bit earlier. Oh, and Alex's father (who is no longer in the picture) was so verbally abusive to her while Alex was in the NICU (try to imagine that) that the NICU staff volunteered to have him banned from the NICU so that she could cuddle Alex in peace. I'm only relating that little nugget to explain why I've been following Dave around for the last few days saying, "You're so great. You're so nice. You are just... the best."

Luke has been incredibly happy and proud to have finished building Lego Hogwarts (his Xmas present), and he reports to us daily on his progress with Plants vs. Zombies. And at his 7-year checkup his doctor actually told me that kids who have attention issues tend to be great at computer and video games, which means they might not be entirely a bad thing. So I'm happy to have that out there, as long as homework and other stuff get done.

Yesterday when I was volunteering in Luke's class I learned that a kid from Luke's class was having a birthday party, and lots of the boys were talking about it excitedly in class. Luke asked me, "Mom, did I get an invitation to the party?". "No, honey, you didn't," I had to tell him. Then I went home and was in kind of a funk for several hours (we had invited this kid to Luke's party), bracing myself for the fallout and depression when he got home. But instead he invited three friends over after school, they had fun, and he never mentioned it again. And he's having a great party on Saturday so I hope it's nothing more than a blip on the radar. I think I am going to have to get a tougher skin for when I have to deal with real issues.

Last but not least - a food thing that I don't seem to be able to use in Jolly Tomato. My beloved co-worker Sue, who grew up in New Jersey, swears that Hellman's mayonnaise (East of the Rockies) tastes better than Best Foods mayonnaise (West of the Rockies). I told her I didn't believe it - they are supposed to be the same thing. So she gifted me with a large jar of Hellman's mayonnaise, and I responded the best way I knew how - by setting up a mayonnaise taste test in my office. I sent out an email titled, "Mayonnaise Taste Test" to about 10 people and then, as I walked down the hall, I saw one guy literally sprinting toward the kitchen.

The results? Everyone agreed that the two products did indeed taste different (even though the ingredient lists/nutritional info are exactly the same). The Hellman's was creamier and eggier (even more yellow), while the Best Foods was tangier, with a more lemony bite. Preferences were split down the middle, with the California natives unanimously liking Best Foods best. One of my colleagues was inspired to do a little research, and it turns out that on the corporate web site they basically admit that the two mayonnaises aren't exactly the same, and they reflect regional/historical recipe traditions.

So there you have it - Haven't you always wanted to know?

The next logical thing

Zach, our high-speed growth man, has just written his name for the first time. Yes, that is Zach's honest-to-goodness handwriting. The main thing we had to practice was the letter "A," but he was extremely motivated to learn because his best friend Alex's name starts with "A." Alex is coming over tomorrow for what is essentially Zach's first playdate. That is, it's Zach's first playdate that was set up exclusively for him and someone he chooses to be with (as opposed to him hanging out with the sibling of one of Luke's friends).

Luke's social life is a little more complex - or I guess I should say nuanced. He is plenty busy with a host of boy friends, who keep him running around and begging for new playdates every day. But his "rock" throughout the school day has been his (girl) friend Chaney, the one who wrote him such a sweet note on his birthday. (Again, this is absolutely not a "romantic" relationship, this is just a happy sibling-like bond.)

Today the two of them must have chatted right over the teacher's last nerve, because she decided she needed to separate them (in the process of moving the whole seating arrangement around). This was truly devastating to both Luke and Chaney. They went together to the teacher to beg for reconsideration. No dice. So they packed up their things for the move, with Chaney whispering under her breath, "Please let this be a dream. Please let this be a dream," and off they went to new tables and new seatmates. But before they left, Luke told me, he wrote his name on a piece of paper and she wrote hers, and then they gave each other the papers to tuck under their new desks, so they wouldn't "forget" each other. Oh, and I've asked her mom if they can come to the farmers' market with us next week. We'll keep them together one way or another.

The Curious Case of Zachary Enzo

What a surprising little person we have on our hands. In the past five days, Zach has made quite a high-speed transformation. All of a sudden he is wearing underwear (with much success), he is drawing recognizable pictures (of people! with faces!), and he is writing up a storm.

He drew this picture of a snowstorm the other day, and he took great care to make four people (me, Dave, Luke, and Zach), each with a face and a big smile. This picture is noteworthy because it's the first time I've ever seen him do anything other than large circles and lines.

Then he used up paper after paper because he wanted to practice his "writing." He writes the letters C, D, H, I, J, L, O, and Z -- not bad for a three-year-old, right? Last night he showed me a picture on which he wrote several letters, including an "H." "This 'H' is for Hogwarts," he announced. Uh - OK. We'd better get those calculus books out in case we need them next week.

Head full of numbers

We're back home, trying to get used to putting a "1" instead of a "0" at the end of things, trying to stay warm during 40-degree Southern California nights, and trying to get the 397 pine needles out of my hair from last nights tree-taking-down adventure. Why do we have to make resolutions during the time of year when it's hard enough just to get situated?

This donut picture is from a five-block walk to Wawa that should have taken about ten minutes, but the boys stretched it out to an hour because they were collecting sticks, and poking and stomping at snow and slush the whole way. At one point Luke tried to eat some snow near a tree and my dad told him not to eat it because dogs might have peed on it. This caused Luke to wonder aloud if the snow might taste OK if you "washed" the snow first. To which my dad replied, "You want to eat snow that has dog pee in it, but you won't try the homemade tamales?!?!!? You turkey!" That could be why Luke has such a guilty look on his face, while Zach is just sitting there saying to himself, "Yeah...I'll eat anything."

Apropos of nothing: Zach thinks the tinsel that decorates a tree is called "brussel." He talks about it all the time, as in, "We have to decorate the tree. Now we have to put up the brussel." I don't know why.

Luke's class made a little birthday book for him, in which each kid wrote him a special note. At the front of the book was a note from his best little (female) friend, his tablemate, with whom he just has a very sweet, chatty, sibling-type relationship. She wrote (typos corrected): "Luke, you make friends grow their hearts."

Pause for a moment: Awwww.

On another page, a different girl wrote, "Luke is smart and nice." Then she drew a picture of a girl saying, "Hi" and a boy responding "Hi," and then the boy adds, "2 x 30 = 60."

(Continued on Thursday night): I had the good fortune today to have not one but two Roscas de Reyes (kings' cakes) to celebrate the 12th day of Christmas. The first one was at work brought in by my colleague; the second one I bought at the Mexican bakery near our house after my friend thoughtfully called ahead and reserved one for each of us. The boys had a great time with it, as I knew they would. They each made a careful calculation about where to cut their slices, but neither of them got the baby. Then Dave came along, and in true Dave fashion, got the baby on his first slice. The good news? Good luck for a whole year. And he said he would share it with us.