Give 'em a hand

First the news: Zach turned 13 months yesterday, and he also learned how to clap. He woke up clapping and continued clapping throughout the day on command, on his own, and even in completely incongruous situations. (At the gym he got mowed over by a big kid with a padded rolling mat, and while everyone else gasped in horror he popped right up and started clapping.)

We've had a week to end all weeks, with Dave gone...and gone... and gone some more. It was exhausting and trying and even somewhat confusing, after Luke's legs broke out in some mysterious rash.

I should back up, all the way back to last weekend when we had unusually hot weather and uncharacteristically camping-related activities. We did a city-sponsored family campout with a bunch of our friend-families at the local park (more accurately on the baseball field) that included a barbecue dinner, breakfast, games, magic show, crafts, a movie, and fishing. In other words, a tame version of camping designed to appeal to the younger set. Short version: Luke didn't sleep too well; he kept opening the moon flap on the tent and asking, "Is it morning yet?" throughout the night; by association Dave did not sleep much either. Zach and I opted to do our own special brand of "not sleeping" at home.


At any rate, after all of that not-sleeping, the real attraction for Luke was the fishing derby at the pond, which started first thing the next morning. I have to give him credit for his perseverance: Long after all other kids had given up, Luke was still standing out there in the broiling heat, determined to catch a fish. In the end he caught (and released) two turtles, no fish, and a bad case of the lack-of-sleep hysterics: "I don't want to go home! I want to FISH! I hate going home! I hate our house!" etc.

The day after the campout we noticed a strange rash on Luke's legs. Then it kept spreading...and spreading...and soon I started a lack-of-sleep freakout of my own: It must be chicken pox! No, it must be bedbugs! Turns out that it had nothing to do with camping at all (although feel free to insert your own joke here about our relative squeamishness when it comes to the Great Outdoors); it is a strange vascular inflammation that occurs in children, usually in the wake of a cold. Try explaining that to the other kids. At any rate, it's fading rapidly and the weather is cool enough that Luke can wear long pants for the next few days without further question.

We've had some rain here in the past few days. On second thought, when I look back at it, it was actually just one little rain cloud that followed us around the neighborhood. Every time we hung up a sign advertising our garage sale, the rain came down and ruined the sign. Oh, and there was some rain on the actual garage sale too. But no matter; people still came and we made a few dollars and we got a chance to chat with the neighbors.

Speaking of which, our across-the-street neighbors Janeen and Michael had their little baby boy yesterday and we are so excited for them - and for us to have a new boy in the neighborhood. The more the merrier.

Zach, give 'em a hand.

Friendly Fire

"Why did we have a baby?" Luke asked me the other night when he was getting ready for bed. "We had a baby so that you could always have a friend," I told him. I sure pulled that out of nowhere. But he must have internalized it somehow, because he's been introducing Zach that way.

"This is my baby brother. We had him so that I would have a friend," he has been telling everyone.

I probably should have said, "So that you could have cannon fodder," or "So that you could have someone to use as a target," or more simply, "So that you could have someone to blame." I love watching them attempt to play together during this early stage when Zach still doesn't have much to say. They still find a way to argue. "He called me a ball," Luke complained the other day. (But that's the only word he says!)

In the afternoons we've been hanging out in the backyard and Luke wears his whistle around his neck and announces that he's the "voss" of the backyard. "I need this whole area cleaned up," he'll say, and he'll blow the whistle for extra emphasis. "Zach, you have to put all of these things back in the bucket." Lucky for him, Zach's second-favorite thing in the whole world (after playing with balls) is putting things into a receptacle.

Yesterday we filled the little plastic pool and instead of pretending to shoot Zach with a cannon, Luke was able to shoot Zach for real with a squirt bottle. My protests went entirely unheeded because Zach thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

Side note #1: Zach has sorta started pointing at things. Dave discovered this because he took the boys out for a walk and Zach kept pointing up at the moon and saying "Ba! Ba!"

Side note #2: Yesterday it was broiling hot outside, I had both boys at home, and Dave was out the door by 8:15. So...I took our little crew on a field trip to the wildlife rescue station, then to the farmers' market, then back home for pool time, then to the big kids' school and for a walk around the neighborhood, then to chat with our neighbors, then back to the house to make dinner and have a welcome home sign ready for Dave by the time he got home at 7 pm (!). "You're like a mommy machine," Luke said to me this morning. Yup.

Side note #3: I just noticed that on Dave's nightstand there are a pair of salad tongs, a whistle, and a toy chainsaw. Good thing the people who help us clean our house know us very well - otherwise they'd really wonder.

Mom's day

I can't quite muster full enthusiasm because I feel like I've been dragged through the mud. Tough week... little sleep... kids have been sick and whiny... and then today when things were FINALLY turning around, I backed my car into another car in the Costco parking lot. It's just a little scrape, and it's unclear whether the other lady is going to pursue anything, but the whole ordeal was stressful.

So with that cloud over everything, what's new? For starters, Zach got a super-short haircut. When I ran my hand through it, I had the strangest experience of thinking - whose hair does that feel like? Then I realized: It feels like Dave's hair. Trust me when I say that has never, ever happened with Luke.

Zach's also learned to be jealous of Luke. When Luke wakes up in the morning, Zach freaks out when he sees me hugging Luke and wants to crawl up to my lap right away no matter what else he has been doing. That's a development that I wasn't quite prepared for yet. So sibling rivalry is working both ways now. How many years does this take to clear up again?

Mother's Day was a nice diversion. We went for brunch with Suzi and Bill and then they took the boys for a long walk while Dave and I crashed. Then Suzi and I played actual real-live, tiles-and-all Scrabble while Luke held up my letters and announced them to everyone.

For Mother's Day Luke's teachers helped him prepare a little book for me with one of those fill-in-the-blank Mad Lib type paragraphs all about mom. Excerpts include: "My mom is 55 years old" and "She likes to eat shrimp" and most curious of all, "My mom is special because she takes care of Zach."

Pacy thinks this last one is a sign of incredibly advanced emotional maturity on Luke's part; I thought it was maybe a sign that I had been neglecting Luke. Oh, it's true; I'm so easily manipulated. Luke knows that he can say or do anything and all he has to do is look up at me through those long eyelashes and say, "Mom, you know you're in my heart of love," and all is forgiven.

Rug wrapped

We're completely tuckered out from a whirlwind weekend with Julie, Eric, Antonia, and Helena... The kids haven't seen each other since last summer but they don't miss a beat when it comes to catching up. Luke was so excited to have everyone here that he actually convinced all four kids to take a bath together on Saturday night. (It was quite a scene, but common decorum prevents me from publishing any of the pics.)

I'll see if I can boil down the last few hours of the visit, as told by Luke (to Dave, who was not able to be with us on Monday): "Helena hit me with a jackhammer and I screamed really loud but I was so sad when they left and their taxi had the hazard light on the steering column and Eric forgot his socks." OK, Got that?

Luke loves Antonia and calls her his "sister." Partner in crime is possibly more like it. Luke and Helena, on the other hand, get together like oil and water - coexisting peacefully sometimes but never quite mixing. Luke was only too happy to help Eric and Antonia bury Helena in the sand on Saturday.

That said, I'm pleased to report two things: One, Helena is completely game for just about anything, which includes looking at hazard lights, so that automatically endeared her to Luke.

Two, Luke and Helena had such a good time at the Huntington Gardens on Sunday that they actually had a happy kind of argument on the way home: "I want to move to Seattle." "No, I want to move to California." "No, I want to move to Seattle," and so on, until they both fell asleep, heads together.

Zach, I'm afraid to say, came out a little worse for wear over the course of this busy weekend. While we were making dinner on Sunday he pulled down a two-liter seltzer bottle from a low shelf and gave himself a big black-and-blue mark on his foot. Then just moments after we got over that trauma, he toppled off the little kids chair into the screen door and scratched up his face. It's a rough-and-tumble world out there, Zach. Better toughen up before the summer.

I have no idea why, but Luke suddenly decided that his new favorite game is "Wrap Rug," in which he pulls out the area rug from his room and takes turns with Helena and Antonia wrapping each other up like burritos. "Time for Wrap Rug!" he declares, blue rug dragging by his feet. It'll be a while before Zach can play it with any enthusiasm.

Parting shot: Beautiful birthday girl Helena about to blow out the candles.

Party on...

Suzi and Bill-o did the enormous service of babysitting for us yesterday while Dave and I went to a baby shower. (Pause for a moment to think about baby showers: Ahhhh. That sweet, innocent time when it's all about folding up cute little clothes and idly wondering if the washrags are going to be the right color. Heh.) Anyway, it was a stifling 90 degrees outside and probably hotter inside, and I don't know exactly what they all did but everyone seemed to have a great, sweaty time while Dave and I got a much-needed break.

Then it was back to the house for Zach's birthday celebration. Zach cleans up well, doesn't he? Here he is in his super-cool birthday shirt (from a friend's little boutique for up-and-coming new designers) quite literally having a ball in the backyard. That's an exact quote, by the way: "Ba! Ba! Ba!"



We continued the ball theme with dinner (spaghetti and meatballs) and then his birthday cake(s), which were more of a mistake than anything. I had visions of making a large ball-shaped cake, and when I couldn't get the right cake mold, I wound up baking several small half-balls, plus a few extra slices, in my typical near-miss fashion. Luke helped me decorate them into baseballs, tennis balls, basketballs, and water polo balls. Quick aside: Luke is really into the question mark right now and he wanted to decorate the cake to say "Happy Birthday Zach?"

Did Zach like cake any better on try #2? Well, this time he certainly enjoyed being smeared in frosting, but at a certain point the cake went the way of all foods that he tires of: launched, at high speed, off the highchair.


Grandma Bobbie and Granddad were kind enough to bring their famous super-strawberries to dinner, and here is Luke with one the size of an apple. It's funny; the strawberry is so big the picture looks distorted, but I swear it's real.

Today was another super-hot day (pause to reflect on "super" as a modifier: For some reason, Luke has started talking like a teenage girl, adding "super" in front of everything - i.e. "That is super-cute!" "I am super-mad at Zach!" etc.). I was home alone with the boys so we did what all smart people do on hot days: We went to Target. It was actually a good call - it was air conditioned and everyone was instantly in a good mood. The purpose of the trip was to find some good outdoor water equipment, and we found a super-cute inflatable pool that we took home without thinking too much about how we would inflate it. While two crazy kids ran around I exhausted myself by using the bike pump and then finally giving up and using lung power to get the thing inflated. The boys were super-excited (Luke loved filling up the pool, then stripped off his clothes with glee) and splashed in the pool for...three minutes. I literally didn't even have enough time to take the camera out before Zach started crawling out and Luke took the hose over to spray the garden. Good thing I only spent $14.99.

For lunch we tried to think of the coolest possible option and Luke suggested that we have a picnic right in the doorway looking out to the balcony. I laid out a beach towel and set out a cold summer feast: chopped strawberries, yogurt, ham, chips, crackers, and fresh-made guacamole. All was well for the first few minutes until Zach discovered the main bowl of guacamole and started shoveling handfuls of it into his mouth. Then he got the yogurt and started waving the spoon around. Then, smeared from forehead to ankles with guacamole and yogurt, he crawled back onto the carpet. I'll spare the rest of the details except to say that it got worse and worse before it got better. I had to spray him down in the sink while barking out orders for Luke to Move! Move! Move! move the entire feast onto the table. So much for that mom of the year medal. I'll try again next year.

One

We did it; we made it one year!

Today Zach had a ball at his ball class, had a nice nap, played with balls outside, had a good dinner, and then was in for the surprise of his life when he had a cupcake for dessert.


The verdict: Eh. He's never had much of a sweet tooth, at least not yet. That's OK; he had a great time laughing when I pretended to eat his crumb-covered fingers.

At 6:25, Zach's birth time, Dave and Luke and I gathered in front of the clock, counted down the seconds, and then gave a big cheer and family hug. All in all, a great year. Now I've got some sleep I need to catch up on...

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

Standing, walking, running

I'm trying hard to disabuse Luke of the notion that Zach is the family dog, but it's difficult. Let's see: He can't wait for us to let him outside in the morning. He crawls around eating scraps from under the table. And when he hears the dishwasher opening, his little head pops up, tilts to the side to make sure he's hearing right, and then he's off on all fours - thumpa, thumpa, thumpa, thumpa - over to the dishwasher in no time, ready to examine what's in the next load. Luke sometimes calls him "our puppy" and (oops) sometimes I do too.

But for whatever horizontal behavior patterns Zach has established, he's about to set out on a whole new vertical adventure. This week he really started standing up on his own, letting go, and balancing for a split second. It must be such a great thrill for him because he wants to do it again and again. If you hold on to his hands, he's ready for takeoff - walking in straight lines, in circles, any way that he can cover the most territory.

Plus he seems to have some words. There's "ball," of course, and now everyone except for me seems to have heard him say "Luke." (Dave says it's a gutteral sound that he's never heard Zach make before; kinda like "book" without the 'b.')

Add these things together, and it's not hard to understand why Luke has had some serious sibling rivalry pop up this week. This morning Luke wanted me to pretend he (Luke) was a baby chick hatching from an egg and learning how to stand up. Then I read him a book and he pretended to be a baby pointing at words and sounding them out in baby talk. Pretty transparent, buddy. At least it's not too hard to figure out what's on his mind.

Luke ran his first solo kids' running race this morning, a 1/4 mile run for four-year-olds. I don't want to say too much about it except that he finished (eventually) and got a finishers' medal, but beyond that the experience seemed to be pretty miserable for him. We've been trying to give him lots of praise tonight for doing something so new and scary and different, but I don't think he's going to be asking us to sign him up for any more kids' races any time soon. I have a picture of him shuffling along by himself, way behind any other runner, and the look on his face is so sad that I can't bear to post it. "He just looks like a kid running!" says Dave. But for me, just as for Luke, this is one experience that I'll just have to let it sit for awhile.

At least he stays in character, though. As soon as he crossed the finish line, he announced, "I need something with sugar in it!"

Ladybug Beach

What a strange weekend we had at the beach: It was in the mid-to-high 80s, for starters, so we didn't quite know what to do with all of that heat. But then of all things, the beach was swarming with ladybugs. At first it seemed like a nice little coincidence because Luke is studying bugs this week in school, and he was super-excited when we found the first one, or two, or three. Then it quickly degenerated into, "Here, let me get those ladybugs off your back," and "Are you sure we're not sitting on a nest of some kind?"

This weekend was also remarkable for being the first time that Zach really enjoyed the beach in any traditional sense. He still hasn't gotten the memo about not eating the sand. But he love, love, loves the water and the waves and the mushy sand beneath. If he could walk on his own, he would have just headed straight in to the (59-degree) surf. Here, with Dave, is his first dip in the Pacific.

Zach loves a lot of other things about the beach too: Munching on apples, drinking big bottles of water, banging shells together, crumpling plastic bags, and especially holding on to any gigantic big ball he can find. At one point he seemed to be coveting a big red ball under the next beach umbrella over; luckily the owners of the ball happened to be neighbors of ours from down the street. "We've got a hundred of them at home," the mom assured me as she handed the ball over to Zach. He has barely let go of it since.

It probably goes without saying, but his other favorite thing to do is to hang or climb on me. The other day I was lying down on my stomach in the sand and Zach crawled up the back of my legs, until his head was resting on my bottom, then put his head down with an "ah" and rested there on that comfy pillow. I felt like a mama sea lion on a big rock. Today his little game was hanging out behind me and peeking out whenever I turned my head. Cracked him up. And, as observant Dave pointed out, nothing - nothing! - sounds better than hearing a baby laugh.

Hi Mom and Dad

Seriously, aren't my mom and dad just the cutest pair? I should point out that they did not want this picture taken; I think they knew it would probably wind up on some blog somewhere. I guess that's why when I said, "Say 'cheese!'" my dad responded with a mild expletive that's not quite polite enough for our tender sensitivities here at Beach Bucket. Aw, Dad, you know I just couldn't resist.

During this visit, even though the number of activities we've done could probably be counted on one hand (walk to the beach, eat, sleep, repeat, repeat) we've had more fun than ever.

Some of this can be attributed to Zach's rapid development in the last few weeks. Suddenly he is very social, he likes looking at books, he thinks lots of things are funny, he enjoys just about every kind of food, and his babbling is coming pretty close to actual words. My mom swears he said "block" and "ball" in the appropriate context today. As Dave would say, important if true.

Some of it also has to do in part with Luke's ever-expanding good humor. Yes, he can be a real crank, especially on days when he doesn't nap, but he has his moments when he is just a total joy. Here he is with Papa after they read what turned out to be the funniest Dagwood (or Jagwood, as Luke calls it) ever written. (Dagwood sneezes "Ha-ha-STEW! Ha-ha-CHEESE FRIES! Ha-ha-CHOCOLATE!" and then when Blondie gives him beef stew, cheese fries, and hot chocolate, he says, "How did you know?"). One other funny thing: Luke has started calling Grandma just plain "Joan." We're not sure why, and she doesn't especially like it, but I still giggle secretly when he says it.

Last spring we managed to convince Mom and Dad to stay an extra two weeks; this time an extended stay is not in the cards. One thing is for sure: We'll all miss them terribly when they leave. Zach won't have Grandma to laugh with in the back seat; Luke won't have Papa to show him hazard lights; Dave won't have anyone to share coffee, beer, or late-night movies; and I won't have my personal counselors/voices of reason/confidants at the ready. As they say here at the beach: Bummer.

Mas Fiesta

More pics: Papa and Luke playing ball in the yard just after we finished decorating; then a view from the balcony of the mariachis serenading us.

Next: Zach, Dave, Bill, Bobbie, Jerry, and Joan all watching the mariachis; Luke bravely taking the first (or maybe the 100th; I lost count) swipe at the pinata.

That's all I have. Anyone have any other pictures they'd like to send me? I could go on blogging like this for weeks!

Scenes from a party

Just a sampling of pictures for now (these from Bill-o); more to come later. From left, or top, depending on how you look at it: Party decor; mariachi panorama; Dave explains the pinata to an attentive audience; Dave and the boys enjoy the music with their maracas.

At the moment we are swimming in leftover rice, beans, carne asada, chips, and four kinds of salsa; plus we have a concrete brick's worth of quesadillas fused together in the fridge somewhere. And even though the cleanup continues (how far exactly could Zach have flung his rice and beans?) we're all basking in a post-party glow that should last for a few more days, or at least until the last gallon of guacamole runs dry. Who knows, maybe it'll last until someone drinks the last can of Tecate? Ahem. Anyway, I love a good party and there was a whole lot of lovin' going on yesterday...

Holding up well...

Getting ready for today's big party for Dave's 4-0 and I'm remarkably un-stressed. It helps that Mom and Dad are here, and everyone is engaged in getting this thing off the ground. The backyard looks AMAZING, thanks to some crafty work by Dave and Dad, stringing some Mexican pennants across the yard, or "festooning" as we now like to say.

Here is 40-year-old Dave and Luke at an ice-skating party yesterday. Let's pause to remember the main reason for this big party: Last year at this time I was stuck in the hospital like a beached whale, and I couldn't even buy Dave so much as a card. This year we have two healthy boys, we are going to be surrounded by family and friends, and we have so much to celebrate.

Last night when Dave and I were tucking Luke into bed and saying thankyous, I asked Luke: Do you remember last year when I was in the hospital for Daddy's birthday? He took my head and brought it close to his mouth and whispered in my ear, "You had to be there."

Wise words from a four-year-old. Last year I had to be there, today I get to be here. OK, time for a fiesta!

No foolin'

Luke's idea of a hilarious joke is this: "'O-F-F' spells 'on'! 'O-N' spells 'off!'" He tried to get a few kids into it this morning at school but no one else seemed to get it, or maybe no one else thought it was that funny.

Today's picture is of Zach (thanks, Bill-o) but the story is about Luke. Just add about three and a half years to this picture and you'll get the idea.

When it comes to making friends, Luke is extremely selective. He has his two best friends, Hatcher and Eitan, a few supporting friends, and after that all other kids are met with extreme skepticism. Like yesterday, when we were at the park, a boy came up to Luke on the swing and the first words out of Luke's mouth were, "No! I'm playing with this!" (I suggest to him: "How about 'Hi! What's your name? Would you like to play together?'" Luke insists that he is too "shy" to say that to someone. Hmmm.)

But when it comes to adults, friendship is an open book. So for instance the woman Luke befriended at the park the other day just happened to be the manager of the biggest bakery in town, and all of a sudden we are swimming in complimentary baked goods. Also, from the minute Luke and I set foot in the Tuesday farmers' market, all the vendors start getting ready for him: The fish guy pulls out the whole fish with eyes and teeth intact. The dried-fruit guy starts making his cat and bird noises. Tom the flower man gets ready to help Luke pick out his favorite irises. Bill the baker starts lining up some extra treats to slip into our bag. And of course everyone is happy to show Luke the hazard lights in their trucks.

Come to think of it, I had never really had a conversation with our hard-to-approach neighbor until Luke got into the picture. The other day the mailman delivered us her mail by mistake so we walked over to drop it in her box. Before I knew it, Luke was tap-tap-tapping on her door. "No - don't bother her!" I hissed, but it was too late and she came out to see what the commotion was. Twenty-five minutes and several rounds of conversation later, she went back in the house to get her car keys so that she and Luke could sit in the front seat of her little Mercedes coupe and talk about all of the buttons on the dashboard. ("I'm really into hazard lights," he explained, and for some reason she seemed to think this was completely reasonable. Well, she did raise a boy...)

I think it's fair to say that Luke, like his dad, is just very particular about things. He likes his breakfast just so, he wants his hair combed a certain way, and he wants the same thing for lunch every day. He loves his two best friends, in part because he's known them his whole life, but beyond that other kids are a little bit unpredictable, and probably, in his mind, there's less of a comfort zone than there is with adults. He's in for a little bit of a rude surprise next year when he and Hatcher and Eitan all go to different elementary schools. Until then, I'm going to view my job as helping him to keep a mind that is open to a world of funny, new, and unpredictable things.

Random (and unexplained) Luke quote for the day: "I like Uncle Joe, and I like Philadelphia, but I really don't like the rest of his state, Pennsylvania."

West-er

Yes, I know it's a goofy thing to call Easter but it was so different from most of my East Coast Easters I'm not sure what else to call it. First off, it was sunny and in the mid-80s - not unheard of but definitely unusual for March around here. Then I decided not to go to church, which is kind of shocking for Easter. But the boys' nap schedule didn't quite provide an opening, plus I didn't want to pick up more germs, and blah, blah, blah....The bottom line was, when Zach finally woke up at 11:20 from his morning nap, I decided that rather than fight the crowds into the 11:30 Mass, a better way for us to celebrate life would be to walk together as a family on the sunny beach. So we did, and that felt right somehow anyway.



Luke and I decorated some wild-n-crazy eggs the other day and I hid them, along with some treat-filled plastic eggs, in the backyard for an egg hunt this afternoon. Luke was less than thrilled with some of the treats (whole wheat Ritz crackers, anyone?) but he had fun on the hunt; whereas Zach found one egg and was happy enough just holding on to it entire time. (The professional quality photos are courtesy of Uncle Boom-Boom; the sloppy snapshot is mine.)

Dave and I were still basking in the glow of an incredibly successful dinner party on Friday so we decided to make Easter dinner for the family tonight. Our hubris got the best of us because we failed at just about every item: The lamb got charred on the grill, causing flames to leap into the air; the skewers for the baby potatoes caught fire; half of the asparagus didn't get cooked (Dave: "Did any get cooked?"); the garlic bread was completely dried out...should I go on? Would this have happened in Mom's, Joe's, or Marie's kitchen? Luckily Suzi saved the day with an astonishing cappucino cheesecake for dessert.

But in the end, it was OK because it was family and we could all laugh about it, and I knew that I was just grateful to have family here to celebrate.

Grandma Bobbie brought some treats for the boys to round out the evening; Luke's treat was his first board game, Candyland. I'm really looking forward to the board game phase of our lives. Today Luke is waving around his spray bottle and Zach is gnawing on magazines...Won't it be fun when they're both huddled in the living room counting Monopoly money or arguing over Masterpiece? OK, don't answer that yet.

Closing shot: Zach being cute.

"You are in my heart of love"

Let me begin with the "poor me" blog edition: I have been sick, sick, sick - no voice, runny nose, throbbing head - and it's strange, but no one seems to give out sick days for moms. You still have to get up at 6 or whatever, make everyone breakfast, get everyone dressed, keep everyone entertained all day, and there's no little bank of sick time that you can draw from if you're just a big old mess. Luke looked at me on Friday morning and said, "Mom, why don't you just stay in bed?" Yeah. As if. Dave came home early tonight after I begged and pleaded pathetically by e-mail for him to rescue me...but now that he's home I actually feel a little better. Finally.

Sickness or no, we had a super-busy weekend. Friday night we hosted one of our favorite houseguests, Unk. Saturday morning there was a 5K right outside our house and Dave and Luke ran it while Zach and I opted to stay on the sidelines (this time - but next year watch out!). I was only able to take the most pathetic pictures possible, so I'll just include one as a sample. But they really did run it - I swear - and again they won first place in the stroller division. Their prize was the same as last year: some guy saying, "Hey, there's the first stroller!"

As soon as we cleaned up from the race, we took the monster wagon over to a nearby St. Patrick's Day parade (or as Luke calls it, "St. Practice Day"). Then on Sunday we had Daniel's first birthday party, and then we went out for a pizza dinner, and blah blah blah, you can see how the whole weekend filled out and added up to zero down time for us sick-heads. Why do all of these things when I'm just not feeling well? Some of this has to do with the fact that I missed all of these events (neighborhood 5K, St. Patrick's Day parade, Daniel's birth and bris) last year while I was in the hospital and it is sheer defiance on my part - I'm not gonna miss that stuff again.

Zach is astonishing us every day with his speed and agility. This afternoon at the park he crawled up the steps of the big play structure, much to my complete surprise, so we went down the slide, and then he wanted to do the whole thing again, again, again. If he's in the house and we leave the hall door open, he is off in a flash, crawling to his favorite spot in the house, the bathtub, where he stands up against the side and peers in (fantasizing about having a bath, we presume). The other night every time I moved him back to the living room and put him down, he was on his way back to the bathtub, which had Luke in stitches.

Today he was doing another funny thing while he sat on my lap eating an apple: He would take a bite, then move the apple up to my mouth for me to take a bite, then take another bite, then pass it back to me, and so on. Again, he had Luke cracking up. But where did he learn the idea of sharing? Not likely from his brother...

There are many, many ways in which Luke is a pain, and I don't have to enumerate them here. But the reason he can get away with it is that he is also an absolute, total sweetheart. I have a large heart-shaped stone paperweight that Luke found somewhere, and now whenever he knows I am mad or sad, he runs off to get the heart and hands it to me silently.

The other morning after I finally got Zach down for a nap, Luke curled into my lap and told me, "Zach is in my heart of love." Wow, I told him; I'm not sure exactly what that means but it sure sounds like a nice thing to say. "Oh, mommy," he said, "You are always in in my heart of love."

Dave explained to me later that Luke is distinguishing between the anatomical heart and the heart that does the the lovin'. I know it's mushy, but I'm just so happy that he is so freely affectionate. I know he's going to make a lot more hearts melt someday.

Good question

Yesterday and today are sort of banner days for me; I've been teaching Zach to go to sleep on his own. As in, put him in the crib while he is still awake - no nursing, no bottle, no rocking, no "transfer" to worry about. And he's getting it without too much struggle. Mostly this is meaningless to anyone but me and possibly Dave, but I waited too long to try to do this with Luke and it was a nightmare, so I want to record for posterity that yes, I helped Zach learn this skill when he was "only" 10 1/2 months. Tonight I put him in the crib and I thought he must have been goofing around because he didn't even make a whimper. Turns out he was actually staring into space getting ready to do an almost instantaneous self-soothe straight into sleep. Yay Zach, and yay mom.

Today I have no voice at all - I am completely hoarse - which makes it more difficult than usual to answer Luke's endless parade of questions. Seriously, where do I even begin:

Luke: "Why does a snail have a shell?"
Me: "Well, his body is mushy, so he needs a shell to protect himself."
Luke: "Does a slug have a shell?"
Me: "No."
Luke: "So how does a slug protect himself?"

uhhh...Dave?

Luke: "Why don't fish have hair?"

ummmm...

Luke: "Do racecars have hazard lights?"

hmmm...

Luke: "How do you shoot the cannon on top of an army tank? Do you push a button?"

uhhh....

Luke: "What is zero?"

Oy.

About Face

OK, I haven't been blogging. Must be because, as I told Dave the other day, my life is completely skewed by sleep or lack thereof. If Zach is up between 4:45 and 5:45, chances are I'll need a break in the middle of the day to catch up on sleep. If Zach is crazy and won't take a nap, chances are I'll miss the sunshine-y part of the afternoon when he finally crashes. The other day (a beautiful day, I might add) I didn't even make it outside until dinnertime. Poor me.

So of course I haven't wanted to blog or talk on the phone or email much. But I do have one little addition to my life that makes it possible to stay in touch with people at all hours of the day - Facebook. Sure, most of it is a little goofy and geared toward the younger set. But at the moment I am involved in three different Scrabble games on Facebook with three friends (Kerry, Liz, and Christine) from three places in my life (college, D.C., work in CA). Now my poor brain doesn't really have to think or write, it just has to stumble through a Scrabble move every now and then. Kerry, who might seem like the least reliable with four kids (!) to manage, makes a move just about every three hours. So I'm sorry to anyone I've missed (including Dave) but just about the only reliable thing I have to give right now is a few Scrabble moves at random times of the day.

We think that Zach is having a hard time sleeping because he is so excited about his newfound mobility. Put him down on the floor, and he's off and running, or I guess I should say crawling. Alternatively, if there's something to hang on to, he's up and ready to cruise around on two feet. He loves opening and closing cabinet doors - well, any doors, for that matter - and he has started to enjoy reading books on my lap. Come to think of it, there's a chance he only likes books for the opening and closing aspect. Don't know what that's all about. As soon as he calms down and starts getting a little more sleep, I'm sure I'll have much more to say.

Go figure

On March 2 I set out to write a post that was all reflective and meaningful and whatnot about the one-year mark from the worst day of my life, a.k.a. the day I went in to the hospital. But I just couldn't get it right. Whatever I had to say came out maudlin at best, mopey at worst, with a little bit of "kids say the darnedest things" thrown in.

What really happened on Sunday was that I had a lot of flashbacks and a lot of "what-if" scenarios play out in my head. I also had some special time with Luke, which was especially important for me, because that day last year marked an unduly harsh separation from him. And of course I spent some time looking at Zach and feeling all gooshy and aw-shucks.

In the end, though, my conclusion about the day is...nothing. I literally have no wrap-up message, no neat little words of wisdom to make sense of it all. Suffice to say that I'm entirely humbled -- some days even steamrolled -- by the whole experience of having kids. I know now that the very idea of laying out your life plan and expecting it to fall neatly in to place is laughable and futile. The best you can do is set things up the way you want them to be, try to hold it together, and then brace yourself for the wacky things that come flying in your direction.

Case in point: Luke and I went to church on Sunday, and as we sat there in the pew, he was being especially affectionate and sweet. Finally he curled up in my lap, patted my arm, and then leaned in to whisper softly in my ear: "Mom, I never want to go to church again."

That leads us to the theme of today's entry, which is, things I just cannot for the life of me figure out:

-- Why has Zach been sick since October? He had creepy eye crud today, so I took him to the doctor, and it turns out that he has an eye infection AND another ear infection. Back on antibiotics we go (round 4, for those keeping score at home).

-- Why is Luke suddenly obsessed with the hazard lights in a car? He calls it the "emergency button." It is a real pain because we can't walk down the street or through a parking lot without him wanting to stop in front of each car and peer in the window until he can spot the button that controls the hazard light. Strange, very strange.

-- Why is there never, ever a morning when both boys sleep late? And by late I mean "past 6 am." One will wake up at 6 and the other will sleep in, or they both will wake up at 6, but it never works out so that I can stay in bed past 6. Anyone want to explain this to me?

Last, some quick color commentary from Luke to round out the randomness of it all:
I'm explaining to Luke about the blocked tear duct he had when he was an infant and how he had to have surgery to unblock the duct.
Luke: "Did I cry?"
Me: "Well, they gave you some special medicine to make you fall asleep right away so you didn't feel anything."
Luke: "You mean they shot me with a tranquilizer dart?"