Arrrrrrrrr

So we didn't get the laundry or the grocery shopping done but at least we fulfilled our cannon needs this weekend.

The cannons were on a tall ship that docked nearby, and apparently even though it looks like a pirate ship, it's a big faux pas to call it that. I got that message as soon as we stepped on the ship, saw the crew member in full 19th century sailing gear, and said (cheerfully, idiotically) to Luke, "Say hi to the pirate!"

"We're not pirates. Pirates steal things," the sailor responded crisply.

OK, whatever, sorry about that. But Luke and I still couldn't stop calling it a pirate ship and saying "Arrrrrrr!".

Then when we were getting a little cannon tutorial from the otherwise very patient Brad Pitt lookalike sailor (below), he finally stopped Luke in mock exasperation and said, "It's a schooner, not a pirate ship. Say schooner with me. Schooner."

I guess if I were a regular sailor I'd get tired of being called a pirate too. But as someone pointed out to us later, these were some of the guys who trained the cast and crew of "Pirates of the Carribean." Seems that if there's fame and fortune involved you can call them anything you like.

Either way, Luke didn't seem to care too much about the terminology because he was focused, laser-like, on the cannon. "Where's the cannonball?" he demanded. "Where's the fuse? Can we set it off now?"



Here's a pic of Zach, just because he deserves a few extra props here and there. He's struggling with yet another cold and yet he still finds life entertaining and amusing. This morning he woke up so early the two of us went outside to get the paper just as the guy was delivering it. Here's hoping that a good afternoon out on the sea cleared his head a little. Arrrrr.

Run ragged

A few weeks ago Dave signed us up as a family to run a local 5K today, and it seemed like a good idea, until a painful, sleepless night last night completely threw me off and nearly soured me on the whole experience. But once I got up, I realized, sleep or no sleep, I didn't want to miss out on all the fun.

In fact, Luke has been excited about this for weeks, and the excitement peaked yesterday when we all (even Zach) got our race numbers, timing chips, and t-shirts.

So at 7:15, dressed and breakfasted, we trudged down to the race, met up with our friends Teresa and Scott who lent us their double jogging stroller, and set off at the slowest possible clip. Luke alternated between running for a few hundred yards and then going back to the stroller; Zach alternated between sleeping and looking mildly annoyed. Oh, and we have to deduct at least five minutes from our time to account for the moments spent watching the pre-teen garage band at the two-mile mark. But there was a great race breakfast afterwards and Zach got to gnaw on a delicious chewy bagel, so we were all good.

Then Teresa and Scott invited us to stop by for a visit. At first we demurred; Zach was overdue for a real nap and we were all sweaty. But then Luke piped up, "Sure! I love going to people's houses!" and there we were. We must have looked like the teetotaler who says "Oh, I couldn't possibly have a drink," and then is swinging from the chandeliers by the end of the party. Because an hour after we said that we really couldn't stay, there we were, with the kids all busy in the play area, and me and Dave standing in the living room, electric guitars slung over our shoulders, battling it out over "Heart Shaped Box" on Guitar Hero. Total nerds, each and every one of us.

It's funny that Teresa said the same thing to me that another friend of mine had said a few weeks ago: When you have a child, the days go by slowly but the years go by fast. Apropos of the fact that Zach is ten months old today, I love hearing that little nugget of wisdom but it doesn't really ring true for me just yet. Yes, the days go by slowly, but this year seems like an eternity. Christmas is practically ancient history to me at this point, when in fact it was only, what, eight weeks ago? So Teresa added a helpful corollary: Maybe it doesn't apply to the first year because you're awake for so much of it. Now that I can see. Remind me of this again when the kids are 7, 10, 14, and so on. I'm sure it will just be flying by.

"Gonna be your man in motion..."

"...all I need is a pair of wheels..." Anyone remember that song from the little-known movie "St. Enzo's Fire"?

I kid, I kid. But I have had to lock the child safety gate to keep our man in motion from motioning himself right down the stairs. He can now sit up from a lying down position and he can do the army crawl to get from point A (anywhere he is) to point B (wherever I am). The disconcerting thing is, he's almost always crying/whining while doing it. I guess it takes a lot of effort to move that large midsection of his with those little arms and legs. But all told, he really has nothing to complain about. How lucky is a guy whose mom stays home with him and takes him to the beach? (See photo evidence above)

Luke has had a bad cough,which is alternately disturbing and fascinating to him. He woke up at 3:15 am the other night and I had to hold him on my lap in a steam-filled bathroom for a while to get the coughing to subside. But as soon as he got his bearings, he leaped up to go back to his room to get his pop-up anatomy book so we could look at pictures of lungs and constricted bronchial tubes filled with mucus. Yes, this is at three in the morning.

The next morning I had one of those traveling medics come over to do a blood test for me, and Luke wanted desperately to tell her about his illness. "Doctor, I have a cough..." he began. "Well, let me show you." He ran off to get the anatomy book and opened it to the lung page. "See - here's where the mucus is going to carry the germs out of my lung." I don't know what she was thinking but it was probably her only anatomy lesson from a 4-year-old that day.

This afternoon we're off to look at a tall ship that is docking nearby. I don't care much about the ship itself, and neither does Luke, probably, but it has a cannon and I know that is going to rock his world. Lucky, lucky boys.

Built for Speed

"Let's take it easy this weekend," we said; instead we wound up running the kids and ourselves ragged with activities.

When our good friends from inland came for a visit, of course we had to take them down to the beach in the Monster Wagon. And after we had completely coated ourselves in a day's worth of sand and they finally went home, of course we had to go out to dinner at Eitan's house for some good old-fashioned rough-housing. Those two activities alone would have constituted a good, full weekend.

Then today Dave got the idea in his head that we should ride a boat. So we went down to the big pier and were faced with a choice: Tame glass-bottom boat ride or shooting bullet speedboat ride? Dave noted that the glass-bottom boat ride was more expensive. The speedboat, we learned, was $15 for adults and only $1 for infants, with "infants" being defined as "children under six." For some reason Dave thought that this meant it was a great bargain; I thought it meant that not that many people take their small children on the speedboat.

But Dave insisted and I gave in. "If this turns out badly, I will never trust your judgment on any maritime matters again," I declared as we clambered onto the boat.

Three minutes into the 30-minute boat ride I regretted my decision. I'm not a newlywed with just my siblings and their spouses (all consenting adults) on board (Marine Misadventure, April 1999). I'm a mother and I'm supposed to be making the decisions that protect our children. What was I thinking?

Dave had originally assumed that Zach and I would stay in the back for a smoother ride while he and Luke went up front for the bumps. Instead (note the look of forced enthusiasm/terror on Luke's face) we all wound up clustered together in the back of the boat with Zach wrapped tightly in Dave's arms and Luke clinging to me and saying, "I think I want to go home now."

But at some point between the whipping wind and the amazing sights (seals napping together atop a buoy; a spectacularly clear view from the coastline to the snow-capped mountains), something unusual and completely unexpected happened: Both boys fell asleep. Seriously, that doesn't even happen in the car, let alone back at home in their own beds. They stayed that way, sleeping in our respective laps, until the boat finally rumbled back in to the dock. Then we all had a good laugh and went out for ice cream (or table-climbing, from Zach's point of view).


Now this is not to say that I would do it again. But the words of the captain as we left the ship stayed with me: "For those of you who do not live in California, it is the days like these that show you the reason why the rest of us do."

These Are Days

Never let it be said that we've lived life standing still. We've been at the beach, at birthday parties, at farmers' markets, at the Dan Zanes concert, at the pool, at the movies, at Grandma's, and in the snow - literally - for "snow day" at Luke's school.

Zach had his nine-month appointment and he "passed" with flying colors. We also learned a possible explanation for his erratic sleep habits: yet another sinus infection. Back on antibiotics you go, young man.

It has been so interesting to watch Zach reaching a new level of awareness. He turns his head around when you call his name, and he lights up when Luke walks in the room. Yesterday afternoon he was moping around, acting all whiny, until we picked Luke up from school and suddenly Zach couldn't contain his enthusiasm with his loud, cheery, "Dap dap dap dap dap dap dap!" And again, last night when Dave was playing ball with the boys, Luke had Zach laughing so hard I thought Zach was going to lose his dinner.

Speaking of dinner, it's quite an experience to watch Zach eat rice and beans. Think Cookie Monster demolishing a cookie when the crumbs go flying - except it's real life, it's real rice, and you really have to clean up afterwards.

Luke, on the other hand, has been entertaining us with magic tricks ever since he spent time with Fred at Christmas. He'll put a coin in one fist and hold both fists out and (for no apparent reason) say, "Blow on this hand!" Then he'll ask you to guess which hand the coin is in. If you guess the wrong hand, he'll open his empty hand triumphantly and say, "Nope!" But if you guess the right hand, he'll either tell you to guess the other hand, or (my personal favorite) he'll put both hands behind his back and you'll hear a "clink" as he drops the coin on the floor and comes back with his empty palm open.

Last Friday I needed some special Luke time, so Luke and I went swimming at the gym while Zach stayed in the babysitting room. Luke had such a good time he's been talking about it all week. Lucky for us, this Friday Dave worked at home, so at the end of the work-day we all packed up and headed over to the pool. Imagine not one but two big-eyed, light-haired, round-faced cutie pies shrieking in delight and cracking each other up as they bob up and down in the water. Another wild Friday night - just the way we've always wanted it.

Don't Ask

Yeah, weird things happen in our house. Like I'm making dinner and Luke is suddenly very quiet and busy, and next thing you know his dog Nut and cat Chairman Mao are face-down in mixing bowls filled with raisins ("They were hungry."). Or I'm washing dishes and I look over and Luke has pulled out the meat grinder and is poring over the order form for new attachment pieces. ("Can we get this egg whipper?")

Of course toys are never played with the way they're 'supposed' to be. Musical instruments, books, figurines, cars - everything is a tool or a blade. The stomp rocket is a sewer cleaner. My colanders are welding masks. The exersaucer is...well...just a goofy place to hang out.

Zach is cool with the idea that anything goes. He loves playing ball with Dave and Luke and he thinks throwing the ball is hilarious. So he's decided, why wait for someone to give me a ball to get some good throwing action? If you sit him somewhere long enough, you'll have to cover your head before the blocks, chewy toys, or heavy stuff starts flying.

Maybe I exaggerate - our home is not a complete den of lawlessness. It's just a little bit of a mess. But it's sure not a bad place to visit. Anyone who comes over is likely to be smothered in wet, sticky hugs and kisses, invited for dinner, and asked to stay for dessert. You just have to watch out above and below.

Haircut 1.0

Dave took Zach and Luke for haircuts on Monday with Haircutter to the (Child) Stars Linda. "But Zach doesn't really have any hair," you might say. True, but HttCS Linda agreed with us that the top/middle and sides needed a trim to make everything even. He was fine, and they gave him the whole "baby's first haircut" package, and he looks cute and even a little collegiate.

As it happens, Zach is 9 months old today, and his time on earth thus far seems to be wearing on him. After countless colds and countless sleepless nights, he was diagnosed with a double ear infection today and given a new round of antibiotics (round three, for whomever is keeping score at home). The big question of the night is, how long will he sleep, on this particular night when Dave is not home? The first time I put him down it was just 45 minutes. That is a sign of a long night ahead.

Luke, who is also freshly shorn, is actually doing pretty well in the sleep department (knock on wood, please). Last night after he had been tucked in I came out of the bathroom to find him curled up outside the door of our room. "There are monsters in my room," he said.
I tried to think quickly of a tool I could give him. As it happened, he was sitting right outside the linen closet.
"You know," I told him, "Monsters are really afraid of rags. That's why when you say 'Rags!' they run away. Why don't I give you this washrag to use against the monsters?"
"Can I bring it to bed with me?"
"Of course!"
"OK, I think that's a really good idea."
So he snuggled up with the washrag, satisfied, and I didn't hear from him again until morning. Tonight the rag is back in bed with him. Let's hope it works its magic.

Mid-winter blues

It's true; we're all just a bunch of cranks over here, even though it's 70 degrees and sunny outside. Luke is having more potty issues, Zach is having more sleeping/teething issues, and I'm just plain old having issues. So let me try to think of some good things to say:

Luke had his four-year appointment and The Amazing Dr. L. pronounced him "incredibly advanced" (verbally) for a four-year-old and "one of her favorite patients." This is after he charmed everyone in the waiting room and invited them all over to our house for dinner.

We had a little talk with his teacher the other day about his "dominant" personality and tendency to want to direct the action. I noticed this at the train park yesterday, when he was driving the train, and was disappointed to find that there were no kids riding in the back. So he told another kid: "Will you get some kids to ride in the back of the train so I can drive them?" and the kid obediently started rounding up other participants. As I told Dave, this is how political campaigns begin...

The blade obsession continues unabated. Here you see Luke sitting in the back of our "trash truck" waiting for the "big blade" to come down and crush everything.


Zach is working on teeth #s 5 and 6, and it appears to be painful enough that it is keeping us all up at night. In the daytime, he wants nothing more than to stand up in most every situation. Oh, and he seems to say "Mama" at all of the appropriate times, so we really believe him to be talking. (After he finishes nursing, he also says, "Deese," which I like to think of as kind of teen slang for "Decent meal, mom.")

I was so happy to hear from a long-lost friend last week; she has three boys, ages 13, 10, and 7, and she says that at those ages, the order of the day is giving Mom lip and pretending you don't know her. After a few super-needy days like this, I could handle being ignored a little bit. Am I ready for it?

The next Ansel Adams

Here's a picture of Zach; what's remarkable about it is that it was taken by Luke on his new kid-camera (Xmas present from Grandma Bobbie and Granddad). Even though the resolutions are tiny, the pictures are astonishingly good, for a first-timer. I should let him do all of the photos on this blog from now on. (What's also astonishing about this picture of Zach is that he is sitting down, not standing up, which he wants to do 99.99 percent of the time. ) Luke also took some hilarious pictures of Papa, Uncle Joe, and Uncle Larry, but I wouldn't dare publish them in this forum for fear of retribution.

Yesterday we went to the aquarium and Luke marched along with his camera bag slung across his shoulder, National Geographic explorer-style, carefully snapping pictures of fish, rocks, divers, and in some cases, his thumb or the floor. Here's one of a grim-looking bottom-feeder. Don't you just love the composition and the tones, evoking a somber underwater mood? This kid's a pro, I tell you.

Dave is giving me the gift of a "free" afternoon by taking both boys to a Chuck E. Cheese birthday party. Not sure how I'll spend my newfound time but it's not likely to include bad pizza or video games. Lucky, lucky me.

Sleep set

Usually when I wake up I tally up my sleep segments (consecutive hours of sleep between wakeups) to see if they combine to make anything vaguely resembling a normal night. During the past few months it would go 5,2 or 4,3. When we were on vacation it shifted to something like 3,2 or 2,2 or the dreaded 1,2. I realized my sleep segments are kind of like my bowling scores. I'm lucky to hit more than one pin at a time, and I have to be super-lucky to hit more pins on the second try. So last night I had one of my best-ever bowling sleep sets: first 7 hours, then 30 minutes. That's because everyone cooperated, even insomniac Dave. A good set indeed. Pause for golf claps. Thank you very much.

Luke is still spending a fair amount of time wondering about the afterlife. "What's the name of that man up in the sky who made the day?" he asked me the other day. ("You mean God?" "Yes!")
The questions continue:
"When I am an angel, will I have a magic wand?"
"Will I be able to do magic?"
"What do I do after I'm finished being an angel?"
"How do I get up to Heaven?"

These questions are just one category of three that he'll ask about repeatedly, the other two being bodily functions (bones, organs, blood) and means of destruction (blades, grinders, choppers, etc. ). Sample questions from yesterday:
"How does the blood get the vitamins out of my food?" and "What do your organs that have the poop in them look like?"
..and also: "Can I see the blade in the pepper grinder?" and my current favorite, "How do you light a fire in the fireplace? Can we just shoot a cannon into it?"

Zach is all over the map - he's sick, he's better, he's sleeping, he's not sleeping. Today he wouldn't nap so I threw in the towel, so to speak, and walked down to the beach with him and put him in the swingset on the sand. Sometimes I do that when I just want to watch him laugh and laugh. Today the beach was so empty you could hear the footsteps whenever a runner came by. Absolute bliss.

The Cutting Edge of Four

Those of us who have known Luke throughout the year have followed his every obsession: We started with jackhammers, then moved on to things that are underground, then fish, and now blades and grinders. If we had stopped at fish, the implementation of the cake would have been a lot easier. But how do you make a blade cake? Lucky for us, Joe offered a final inspiration in a pinch and we were able to put together this super-cool saw blade. (Side note: It was also Joe's idea to put a layer of fudge in between the cake layers, and by the time we put on the frosting and the kids decorated it with candy, the cake was so super-sweet it was kid paradise and adult gross-out.)

Anyway, Luke is truly coming into his own as a person. I'll be the first to admit when he is a real pain (high maintenance, loves to play the victim). But over the course of the year he has really shed many of his toddler annoyances and become a truly fun person to be with. When he gets up in center stage to make a speech or sing "Mele Kalikimaka," or sing something of his own composition ("Robot Ocean Clouds") my mom-heart swells up and my eyes get all teary.

One hard thing about having baby #2 is having less special time to be with Luke, but the amazing thing is that he doesn't see it that way. He really just accepts Zach as part of the family and seems to enjoy him as much as we do. That alone makes me even happier that Luke is who he is: a big-hearted, affectionate, sweet, sensitive, non-stop-talker of a little man.

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

Cousin-o-rama

Lots to write and little time, so I'll keep it short: The "older" cousins are becoming quite a threesome. Sam and Luke are instant buddies; Lily is doing her best to keep up and hang with the pack. Some group efforts have worked out well - the pajama band, for instance, and the team decoration of Luke's cake. Other times it dissolves quickly into, "She hit me!" "He called me a mushy face!"



Sam and Luke have had a sleepover for the past two nights in Sam's room, and they are digging it. The first night they were giggling well past 10 pm; we were all stretched out in the living room and too tired to do anything about it. Of course they fell asleep eventually but the next morning they were both worse for wear. I asked Sam how the sleepover went and he said, "It was awesome!" Then he paused and added, "It was a little rough in the beginning..."

On Luke's birthday Luke and Sam had a big-boy outing with Dave and Papa to the helicopter museum where they flew planes and had great imaginary big-sky adventures.



One thing that has been so much fun about Zach is that he has been so happy. He will laugh at just about anything. Dave and Joe took the boys to a play center at the mall and nothing has ever been funnier than air hockey was for Zach. He though every pop and whizz was hilarious. Then of course he greets every person and every meal with huge smiles. Funnier still that he can have a ragged night of sleep/wakeups and still get up in the morning cooing and gooing and laughing for everyone to hear. He is going to be quite a character.

Next installment when I get a chance: The Big 0-4.

The Boys of Winter

OK, let's just get this out of the way and say that these are the Two. Cutest. Brothers. Ever. Everyone in agreement? Good. OK, then. Moving right along...

Christmas Day started with Luke and Zach's first-ever bath together and they both thought it was pretty darned funny. Found: A new activity that somehow entertains them both and simultaneously gets them clean. Hope that doesn't get old.



Once they take a bath, they clean up pretty nice, right? Here's Luke under the tree at Grandma and Papa's house, and here's Zach under the tree at our hotel/dinner room.



This year marked a break with tradition: Instead of Christmas dinner at our house, we packed everything up and moved the whole operation to a reception room at a nearby hotel (thanks to Grandma Bobbie and Granddad for sparking the idea) and it turned out to be a stroke of brilliance. There was plenty of room for seven kids and fourteen adults to eat, play, cavort, watch Fred's magic show, and sing Christmas songs with Jeremy - all without worrying that someone might accidentally step on a new Christmas toy or break Grandma's antique china, or what have you.

Of course getting the whole thing together took a Herculean effort on the part of my mom (primarily) and the supporting chefs. So when we were at dinner, I was inspired to get up and lead a toast to my mom and others.

Then, unbeknownst to me, Dave had a plan up his sleeve the whole time to lead a champagne toast in honor of 10 years to the day he proposed to me, so he got up and did his own little speech (sniff, sniff) and he had arranged with the hotel to have champagne for all of us and sparkling juice for the kids so we all could clink glasses together.

Then Luke (who knew he had such a need for a spotlight and a podium?), not to be outdone, decided that he needed to make a speech too. (At this point, people are probably thinking, what is it with the California contingent and the speechifying?) So Luke went up to the front of the room and started off something like this: "Everyone! Everyone! Listen! Everyone be quiet and listen to me!" When the room got quiet, he continued: "OK! Um....There's a plastic bottle outside and it's lying in the road, and every time a car drives over it, it makes a loud noise!"

The responses ranged from "Huh?" to open, good-natured mockery. So he needs to work on his material a little. Nothing a good speechwriter couldn't fix.


Anyway, once everyone settled down and Fred had done the magic tricks, and Jeremy had sang most of the songs, and Luke had done his solo Mele Kalikimaka / Oh Hanukkah / Santa Claus is Coming to Town for the whole crowd, everyone kind of settled down for some slow happy songs and Dave scooped up the two boys on his lap.

I'm not saying it hasn't been challenging here; transplanting the family to someone else's house and being on vacation for a long time is enough to disrupt any kid's routine or sense of regularity. But every now and then you just have a perfect moment that you just want to bottle up, and this was one of those for me. Once again: Are they the best ever, or what?

Next installment to come: Cousin-o-rama.

Pig (out)

The pictures begin today with one defining feature of my parents' house: The Fisher-Price castle. Beloved by kids from ages 0 to 14, it's something that can entertain both Luke and Zach simultaneously (and even though it looks like they're fighting over it, they're not).

Anyway, here's one reason why I love my brother Joe: Because he's the kind of person who just happens to have, say, ten pounds of jumbo shrimp lying around that he'd really like for someone to eat; or because some meat purveyor just happens to mistakenly send him a $350 crown roast and tells him to keep it (which we're going to eat for Luke's birthday feast, by the way). It's the same quality that led Joe to call up yesterday and say, "I'm coming over for dinner tomorrow and I just bought a pig." A pig, as in a whole pig? Yes, as in an oink oink here and an oink oink there ...you get the idea.

So while the house fills with lovely aromas, allow me to give you a tour of my mom's kitchen: In the oven is said pig and on the stove are large simmering pots of broccoli rabe, rice, and black beans. In the refrigerator is a honey-baked ham and a jar of olives that Joe cured and brined himself. On the counter are no less than ten kinds of homemade cookies, plus the most divine apple and raspberry pie that Mom just randomly decided to whip up this morning. And downstairs in the basement is twenty pounds of beef marinating for sauerbraten; ten pounds of clementines (whoops - bought too many - oh well); and nine pounds of marinated chicken and carne asada that we brought back from California for some future Mexican dinner.

Do you think we are going to eat well this holiday?

Luke has gone through lots of obsessive phases this year: first jackhammers, then things that are underground, then fish, then bones, and now blades of any kind. (When asked what is his favorite part about Grandma and Papa's house, he said, "The meat grinder.") So anyway, he finally got his wish and we hauled out the meat grinder for him to make some ham salad. Big smiles all around.

He's also made it past some kind of developmental block where he no longer refuses to put on hat and gloves to go outside. I took him to Target and he picked out his own hat and gloves and today he actually volunteered to put them on so he could go outside to play with Sara and Lily.

A new phase that Luke is going through involves a lot of tricky questions about death and such. I think it started when one of the walking sticks in his classroom at school died; and then later those thoughts evolved when he was studying a picture of Dave's late grandfather. He doesn't seem bothered by it, but he is extremely curious: "When I die, will I move around?" "When I am an angel, will I have to wear a dress? Will I get to wear shoes?" He's been following Joe's dog Satchmo around, saying, "Poor Satchmo. He's sad because he's old and he doesn't want to die." Hmmm. I don't think there's a problem, but any child development specialists want to weigh in?

The other night when I was tucking him in to bed, he asked me, "Mom, how do you make a baby?" I told him, "It grows in a mommy's tummy."
"No, I mean how does it get there?"
"Um...The daddy gives the mommy a special seed that grows into a baby."
"But how does he give her the seed? Does he put it in her mouth?"
I look at the clock - 11 :05 pm (he's still on West Coast time a little bit). Forgive me for the lie I am about to tell, but it's time to just shut down this whole line of questioning.
"Yes, he puts it in her mouth."
"Oh." And with that he curls up and goes to sleep.

I just have a picture of Zach here because he is so darned cute. He's been curious and amused at all of the activity, especially the dogs running around. Zach has been a little rough on me, last night especially, waking up every two hours or so for some unknown reason, but it hasn't seemed to affect his mood today - he's as smiley and lovable as ever. I guess Luke's incessant singing finally drilled into his head: "He knows if you've been bad or good, so you'd better be good for goodness sake." Happy holidays and Mele Kalikimaka to all; I'll check in again soon.

Just getting warmed up

It's our last day before heading into the frozen tundra that is the East Coast, and I'm cleaning out my picture files before we go. First up is a shot from the sand snowman contest we went to at the beach last weekend. No snow in sight, of course, so the kids who were building this snowman had to compensate with powdered sugar (and there were many, many hands reaching into and licking from that little container).



Last night we had a fantastic, beautiful Hanukkah with Dave's family and once again I'd love to provide pictures but I have none. Didn't remember to bring the camera. Again. I'm going to have to start taping it around my leg.

We opened intra-family presents this morning, and we continued playing with presents from last night, and let's face it - by the time we wrap up Luke's birthday, we'll have basically had one big present-opening extravaganza all the way through mid-January.

Anyway, the boys love every single present they received. I put just a sampling in here of them enjoying various presents just to show... Luke using his new grinder, preparing to snap photos with his new camera; and Zach studying the new drum shaker.

We're running around trying to get packed up tonight but we took a few moments for what was literally our grand finale in town: the Christmas fireworks. We walked down to the beach and stood, slack-jawed, as some of the most enormous, noisy, colorful fireworks we've ever seen just popped before our eyes. We had worried that Zach might be scared, but he just flapped his arms in approval. I missed it last year due to a case of needing to be in bed, but never again.

East Coast, we're ready for you now!

Rags.

Luke had his holiday performance with his classmates the other night; it was so cute you could pinch it. Why don't I have pictures of it to add to the blog? Well, that is the subject of some inter-spousal argument, but I will fill in the blanks to say that Dave is the BEST and he does tons of stuff for us during his every waking hour, and I couldn't ask for a better person to spend my life with or to have as the father of my children. Oh, and yes, we have video, just not pictures.

If I were able to edit the video and post it online like a modern techno-mom, you would see Luke in the back row looking a little star-struck for the first song and then fully hamming it up for "Santa Claus is Coming to Town." Those of you who have spent any time with him in the last few weeks know that he has the most enthusiastic, never-ending version of the song you will ever hear. When he got to his favorite line ("You better not POUT!") he nearly shook the rafters with his vehement fist-shaking, foot-stomping pout. But the best part was when it was all over and he came off the stage over to meet us, breathless and red-faced, and declared, "That was FUN!" A star is born.

Lately when Luke is mildly mad (but not mad enough to justify a foot-stomping pout), he has started saying "Rags!" Turns out that it comes from the Charlie Brown Christmas special where Charlie and his friends say, "Rats!" and here Luke was all this time thinking that they were saying, "Rags!" The other day when I told him he couldn't watch TV instead of taking a nap, he told me, "Rags, Mommy, rags!" I didn't know whether to laugh or feel put upon...

Good news on Zach: The little spout of hair on the back of his head is just starting to get long enough where it can turn a corner and head back down to earth instead of sticking straight up. Bad news on Zach: He now has cold #2, so we are all suffering from lack of sleep just as we're getting ready to travel. The doc says in winter they get colds as often as every 10 days. To that I say, Rags.

Half step forward, two steps back

Today was marked by a not-so-much-fun jaunt back into the 19th century, thanks to a total neighborhood power outage. As it happens, I was home alone with Zach and total-basket-case Luke, who has been trying to get over the stomach flu. Anyway, I should have noticed at some point that the power was out because there were all sorts of little clues: Luke's white noise machine was off (he usually doesn't turn it off himself after his nap), the humidifier was off (it's new; I just assumed it was buggy), the light in the refrigerator was off, and then finally, when we were all set to leave the house, the garage door wouldn't open. I figured it was broken, so I called Dave, who started a series of phone calls to people who could help us, and Luke and Zach and I went back inside to watch TV, and the TV wouldn't turn on , and then all of a sudden it was like, ding! The light bulb of irony went on inside my head.

Not being able to get into the garage is a huge bummer - it basically means we are stuck because the car is in there (there's no entry from the house) and all of our strollers are there too. Grrr. So we sat and did non-power activities in the house for a while, until buzz, whirrrr.... The power came back on. Then we opened the garage door and took off for the book store, which turned out to be a good thing, because by the time we got back the power was off again.

The second time it was not cool because it was getting dark quickly, and the one flashlight I could find burned out almost instantly. And let me tell you, sitting in the dark with a sick kid and an infant is even less fun than it seems like it would be. I lit a few candles but even that seemed a little dicey because I was afraid someone would knock one over (Zach was not happy at all about being on the floor in the semi-darkness so I was mostly carrying him around; Luke was just wandering aimlessly and complaining). Luckily, we had parked the car outside this time because the garage door wasn't opening, so we took off again for the store to buy flashlights, and then just drove around looking at Christmas lights in other neighborhoods until Dave came home (and the power came back on). People used to live like that all the time. So why did it sap so much energy out of me?

Last time I wrote about all the regression that seemed to be going on; this time I have some minor progress to report. Luke can write the first two letters of his name - whoo-hoo! Apparently the "K" and the "E" are pretty tricky. And when I hold Zach's hands for him to stand up, he can walk...but only backwards. Same with crawling; he seems to work best in reverse.

Speaking of Zach, we have noticed what I suppose is a little personality thing with him: He has a determination that borders on ferocity. If he wants something, he puts his whole body into getting it. And when he plays, he plays hard. We have this little music table that Zach has taken an interest in. No wait, that's putting it a little too mildly... It's a music table that Zach is positively obsessed with. We have started calling it "baby crack." When you put him in front of it he positively attacks it, and he can't seem to stop pushing buttons, pulling levers. Juana observed the other day that he was so tired, so ready for his nap, and yet he couldn't stop playing with it so he was resting his head on the table while he continued pushing the buttons. Yeesh. This kid is hard core.

Before all of the sickness and darkness set in, we had been enjoying our weekend. Here's a quick pic of Zach and Daniel and Eitan at our "Shabbanukkah" dinner on Friday night. It took him a little while to get the hang of it, but he loved that bouncy thing. That was also the night that Zach slept through the night. It hadn't happened for weeks before then; it hasn't happened since. But maybe after today's unfortunate episodes our luck will turn.

Regression Analysis

There are some days when I walk into a room and Luke has bundled himself up in a laundry basket or the crib or whatever, and he declares himself a newborn baby in an incubator. Then we have to ooh and ah, and pat him, and sometimes pick him up and carry him. I know why he does this, in the grand scheme of things, but I don't know what will prompt him to do it at any given time - usually he does it when he's happy, not when he's feeling neglected. Funny thing is, Zach thinks it's hilarious. The other night I had to go out somewhere and as I said goodbye to Dave, Luke was cocooned in the laundry basket and Zach was sitting next to him, poking him and cracking up - not quite providing the hospital-level solemnity that Luke was seeking.

Speaking of regressing, Zach seems to be going backward in time. At his six-month checkup, he actually lost weight. No need for immediate concern, though. The doc says that last month their scales were not calibrated properly so he could have had a bad weigh-in. Or he could have worked off some of his weight just from moving around a lot more. Either way, he's now at 20 pounds, 14 ounces and he's still a chart-topper for his age. In other words, he has plenty of weight to spare.

Did I mention that his sleep patterns also did a backslide from iffy to disastrous? Wednesday night he woke up Every. Two. Hours. That didn't even happen when he was a newborn. The "good" news is that we have an explanation and a possible cure: The doc said he was likely uncomfortable from a sinus infection so she put him on antibiotics and we're hoping that in 10 days or so we'll be back to where we were. Poor Luke had been so excited about having Zach sleep in his room; now he doesn't want to deal with the crying, so Zach is mostly back in our room in the Pack-n-Play.

OK, so, lack of sleep, blah blah blah, what else is new? We did some quickie Christmas decorations for before we leave; we have a beautiful petite Christmas tree, a Christmas bush, and two poinsettias. I was hauling out the stockings and was momentarily mystified by why there were only three, and then I realized; duh, there was no Zach last Christmas. To be honest, things were so rocky back then we weren't even sure if we were going to need four stockings. But yay, he's here now, and I don't have to go through that again. He can regress as far back as the incubator if he wants to, but there's no going back any further than that.

Movie night madness

Tonight we took the plunge and hosted three three-year-olds, sans parents, for movie night. All in all, it worked out pretty well. Pizza and popcorn were eaten, kids all got along, everyone used pleases and thank yous. Hatcher decided the movie (Toy Story) was too scary so he read some books upstairs with Dave while Luke and Eitan remained completely glued to the screen downstairs. When the movie was over, they all came upstairs for a good old fashioned jam session and some general goofiness.

I haven't been blogging much because we've had some rocky times with Zach's sleep or lack thereof. I don't have too much to say on that except if there were one magic solution to the problem there wouldn't be shelves and shelves full of books at the bookstore about how to get your baby to go to sleep. Poor Zach is probably a little worse for wear today after unsuccessful "sleep training" and with his little body full of six-month shots. Dave had the right idea today in giving us all a break, getting a sitter for the afternoon, and just thinking about other things besides baby sleep. And thankfully Zach seems to be focused almost exclusively on the long term - all he really seems to care about during his waking hours is holding on to someone's hands so he can stand up and look around.

When I got out of the hospital my friends gave me a "mom" necklace; a beautiful chain with two little silver discs with each kid's name and birthday on it. Zach loves to pull himself up by hanging on the chain and today with all of his 23 pounds he finally broke it - pop! - and off came the discs. He's never known me without the necklace and I feel strangely lost without it. Tomorrow's to-do list: Buy a real "mom" chain - something that looks as delicate as lace on the outside but is strong as iron on the inside.

Thanksgiving Forecast: Warm

Before the eye-rolling begins, I should say that it's not a matter of gloating, it's just a matter of doing what there is to do. We live in SoCal; what else are you going to do on Thanksgiving morning? It's not like we're about to put on our snow gear and ride to Grandma's in a one-horse open sleigh. Instead we went for a long walk on the beach and then piled into the hot tub (with Grandma) for some relaxation before the big feast. It was Zach's first time in the hot tub and - no big surprise - he had a great time splashing and paddling. (Side note: He continues to be the most buoyant creature I've ever seen. You literally cannot hold him upright in the water - his whole bottom half keeps floating back up.)


More surprising, however, was the fact that he liked the outdoor shower better than the hot tub. (And even more surprising is the fact that I'm letting anyone see a picture of me or Zach in our swim attire - that's a lotta skin! - and that's even before the big feast.) He just thought the water spraying all over us was hilarious. Maybe we should just start hosing him down every time he eats solid food instead of going through countless bibs, napkins, paper towels, shirts, pants, and socks at mealtime.

Speaking of mealtime, we had a great meal yesterday - Dave's family was generous enough to host all of us including my parents. How cool that we all get along. Better than a lot of what else is out there. Luke was a little hung up on the fact that Dave's dad accidentally broke the wishbone. But as we decided, we all would probably wish for the same things, or at least wish that each other got his or her wish. Luke told us that his wish would have been to tour a cookie factory. Let's see...I think I have everything else I could possibly want. I guess I'd wish for that too.

Leader of the Pack

"You know, I'm really in charge of my school," Luke told me the other day.
"I wonder how your teachers feel about that?" I mused.

But underneath, there may be some kernel of truth to it. He's one of the oldest kids in his class because of his late birthday, so he possibly has an advantage in language or maturity. But he doesn't just want to play on the playground, he wants to be the policeman. He doesn't want to hit the ball or catch it during t-ball, he wants to be the umpire. He gets mad when other people cook, because he wants to be the chef (and even went so far as to wear his chef's apron to a restaurant so he could show the cooks last week). And for the past few nights, he has insisted on being the karate teacher: He rounds up me and Dave and Mom and Dad, gets us to stand in a line in the living room, and instructs us on the fine points of various karate moves. Aside from the fact that up until now he has not actually taken any karate (he observed one class at school), his instruction is surprisingly spot-on. (During a warm-up stretching exercise, he says, "OK, now grab the sky. Very good.") I can't make this stuff up.

Who knew that such an extrovert would emerge from a pair of generally introverted parents? Here's a guy who begs us to let him cross the street to say hi to the workers at our neighbors' house. He wants to talk to the men who are fishing at the end of the pier. And the other day when we were taking what was apparently a too-long Sunday drive, he saw some people standing outside a random house and he pleaded, "Can we stop the car and say hi to those people?"


What's noteworthy about Zach this week is his improved sleeping, improved eating, and (possibly related) improved mood. We even caught him getting in position to crawl this evening. Oh, and his hair is getting thicker and longer - a good thing - but that means his only "flaw" is becoming more apparent: Two spirals of hair on the back of his head collide, like a pair of Category 5 hurricanes, and send a tuft of hair spouting straight upwards out of his head. I don't see how it can be "cured" except for him to shave it down, grow it long, or use up a lifetime's worth of gel. Welcome to the Cowlick Family, Zach.

Also noteworthy this week is what I like to call Dave's "mid-life-crisis-mobile" - a monster wagon to bring to the beach (though as my dad points out, he's not likely to pick up many 'chicks' with this vehicle; and as Dave points out, he's not really having any kind of a crisis). He's been wanting one of these wagons with super-fat tires that can handle the sand, and we finally found one (again, yay Craigslist) that didn't cost an arm and a leg. Bring on the ice chests, the umbrellas, the sand toys, and pile on the kids. We're going to the beach!

Donut Heaven

Mom (who is visiting now) has a friend whose mother lived an active, happy life until the age of 100. Her family threw her a grand 100th birthday party with everyone she knew. After the party, she told her son, "I've had a full life, I've been as happy as I could possibly be, and now I'm finished." Two weeks later, she stopped eating and died shortly thereafter.

Why this strange little end-of-life story, you ask? Because I had this feeling tonight that I don't want things to end, but if it all did end right now for some reason, I'd have to say we closed things out in grand style. Tonight Mom and Dad and Luke and Zach and I walked to the downtown merchants' open house and we saw reindeer, ate cupcakes, decorated our own gingerbread cookies, listened to Dixieland music, and finally caught up with Dave at the donut deep-frying machine. Then with bellies full we strolled home by way of the ocean with the moonlight reflecting on the water. How could things possibly get better? I mean, there were people handing out freshly deep-fried donuts -- that's the kind of thing that only seems to happen in fantasies of the heavenly beyond.

Here's a pic of Mom and Dad and Luke and Zach from tonight. It's actually not such a good picture, so I converted it to sepia to give it a little more gravitas (ha, ha).

Every time Mom and Dad are here we try to convince them to move out here permanently. I don't think that'll happen for real, but we have managed to convince them to stay for some long chunks of time, and today the weather was certainly doing its part to persuade (impossibly clear blue sky, sunshine, mid-70s).

Even though Luke hasn't seen them for a while, there's never an awkward getting-to-know-you-again gap. The first night they were here, Luke was perfectly comfortable snuggled up in Papa's lap, discussing sewage treatment. Two peas in a pod.


Zach, on the other hand, is going to have a little bit of catching up to do. Fortunately, we seem to have gotten past his little I'm-just-not-that-into-sleep hurdle of the past two weeks and we're all getting a little more rest. Now he can just be his gurgly old self and charm his way into their hearts. Someone actually stopped us on the street tonight to tell us that Zach was the cutest baby she had ever seen. "Thanks so much," I said; but what I wanted to say was, "I know - and have you seen my three-year-old?"

The Aftermath

OK, so Halloween is over, but we never actually got any trick-or-treaters at our house, and Luke collected about 20 pounds of candy, so we practically have candy spilling out of the windows. We're using candy for bookends. Candy has replaced doorstops. We have candy as paperweights in the office. What's for breakfast? Candy. No wonder candy doesn't work as a kiddie incentive anymore. We might as well treat it as a punishment: Be quiet and eat your Tootsie Roll. If you talk back one more time, you're going to have to finish off all of the Now-and-Laters!

Yes, it's going to be the fourth or fifth (I've lost count) blog entry devoted to Halloween. Part of me can't resist posting additional pictures of Luke as a policeman or Zach as a snail because they were just so hilariously cute. Here's a shot of our whole motley trick-or-treating crew, with Bruce as Linguini and Eitan and Daniel as two clowns.

Trick-or-treating on the walk streets is quite a scene. It's completely mobbed, for one thing, and a total party scene (including a roving party wagon with drinks for grownups). But Luke and Eitan were extremely excited by the whole affair and were super-proud to march up to each house by themselves while we waited with the other parents on the walkways. When one guy handed candy to Luke, he said, "Are you LAPD?" and Luke said, "No, I'm a policeman."


There was a surprising amount of pirate pageantry: One house was completely decked out as a pirate ship, complete with masts and sails rising up three stories and a guy shooting off a "cannon" in the front. And just as we thought we were in somewhat of a normal frame of mind, a massive pirate ship just happened to drive by us (see pic). I still don't know how it was powered.


Then there's Zach. Good old Zach. I always feel like I need to put a footnote at the end to mark his separate activities. Zach slept in Dave's arms through most of the trick-or-treating (just wait until next year) so there isn't much more to say in the Zach/Halloween category. But at home, he's more active than ever, sitting entirely on his own and babbling up a storm. Here he is in his super-cute new bear shirt from Grandma Joan.

Another currently great thing about Zach is his belly laugh. I mean, if you have a belly like his, you must have a pretty decent laugh coming out of there, right? Yesterday when I took Luke and Zach to the big kids' school I was showing Luke how to do hopscotch and this somewhat unexpectedly caused Zach to crack up (me hopping on one foot, that is). And when Dave and Luke were playing catch with a little ball inside the house, Zach thought it was the funniest thing in the world to watch them throw the ball back and forth. His laugh has evolved too - In the beginning, it was just "Huh-whah! Huh-whah!" but now it's a real giggly chuckle. Anyone need their spirits lifted? Feel free to come over to our house to hop on one foot or throw a ball around - you'll feel like the most entertaining person in the world. Oh, and we'll give you some candy too.