Good Old-Timey Fun

A long, long time ago, when I was a kid, we used to make applesauce-spice cupcakes for Halloween and (here's the old-timey part) we would hand them out to the trick-or-treaters that we knew. (I didn't live quite so long ago that we could hand out baked goods to the kids we didn't know). So this year my mom brought the fun on the road: She made them with Helena and Antonia in Seattle; and then she made them with Luke and Zach here in California.

The amazing thing to me is how she was able to engage both kids (well, I'm not that amazed that she could engage Luke but engaging Zach is quite an accomplishment) in decorating the cupcakes. Sure, Zach ate almost all of the chocolate chip noses, and a large number of the jelly bean mouths wound up on the floor, but who's counting? What was fun for me was to see both boys enjoying the same little Halloween activity that I used to love every year.

Yesterday, while Dave and Luke were at their soccer game, my parents and Zach and I engaged in more old-time fun (old time, in this case, referring to the 1960s) with a little social activism. We went down to the beach to join in the local 350 event (350 referring to the safe upper limit for carbon dioxide in parts per million) for global climate change. I was kind of hoping we would be asked to form a giant "350" but instead we just formed a really big line that stretched on and on and on along the beach. Then we all did the wave, posed for the cameras, and chanted, "3-5-0! 3-5-0! 3-5-0!" I didn't think it made much of an impression at all on Zach, until he was going to bed last night and I heard him saying to himself, "5-6-0! 5-6-0!" That tells me two things: one, he was paying attention to a certain extent, and two, he definitely knows what numbers are, even if he didn't get them right. He might also be trying to tell us he's advocating for a higher carbon dioxide limit, but I sure hope not.

Today was the day of the annual pumpkin race, and this year Dave had vowed to get into the game and make our own pumpkin. He evaluated hundreds of pumpkins at the pumpkin patch, and finally settled on this one, which is tall and narrow and seems destined for racing when you put it on its side. We entered the "fun race," which meant we could just do unlimited racing, and it turns out we should have possibly entered it in the "serious" race. Pumpkin 51 (as Luke named it) won nearly every heat that it raced in.

I love the pumpkin races because it's fun to run into friends, check out all of the pumpkins, and see the whole town come out for a cause. Today I was especially excited because Zach voluntarily wore the cat costume that I made him (and he even consented to have the hood over his head every now and then). The best part about the costume is the tail, which is made from a super-fluffy feather boa. Zach has been wearing a loose portion of the tail around the house (stuffing one end into the back of his diaper), and so he was a little annoyed to learn that I had actually sewed this piece of tail to his pants. After several attempts to pull it off, he finally just decided to get with the program. If I can get him to stand still for long enough, we might just have a front picture of the cat costume by the time Halloween rolls around. Good times.

That time again

OK, here it is, the annual pumpkin patch visit and picture... Luke spent his time pretending that the pumpkins were spaceships, launching imaginary battles in mid-air; Zach wanted to pick up as many pumpkins as he could, but was easily distracted by the farm animals and other wildlife ("There...are...too many... flies... at this pumpkin patch.")

By the way, I keep forgetting to mention one of my favorite little Zach-isms. Instead of saying there's "a lot of" something, he says "a lottle of." As in, "That's a lottle of pumpkins."

What an odd week. I got semi-stranded in my car on Tuesday when the battery died (I was only about a half-mile from the house, but still...) The AAA guy came pretty quickly and charged up the car and sent me on my way. But in the meantime, my friend to whom I had promised a ride decided to just walk home (and this is the friend who had a lung removed earlier this year due to lung cancer). So what a forehead-slapper that turned out to be.

Then on Thursday I got locked out of the house in spectacular fashion. Luke's friend Reid was visiting, and Reid had locked the bottom part of the door that we never lock because then the door locks behind you. When it was time to walk Reid home, Zach dashed out the door, I dashed after him, and Luke and Reid followed behind, shutting the door behind them. Click. D'OH!!!! Three kids, me, and no wallet, phone, or keys of any kind. Ordinarily, Dave would be a few blocks away to save us but that night he was miles away at the Dodger game. And our neighbor Pat wasn't home. And the only other people I could think of with a key to the house were at least a half-hour drive away. So we walked to Reid's house, and Reid's dad came back with us, armed with a six-step ladder. When that wasn't tall enough to get him up to the balcony, he went home and came back with his rock-climbing equipment.

What followed was like a scene out of some reality show, perhaps with some disclaimer like, "It is not recommended to try these maneuvers at home." He put on a safety harness, flipped some belts and straps over the balcony, gingerly rappelled up the side of our house, and then slowly hoisted himself over the bars and onto the balcony. (All I could think was, "Please don't come crashing down onto the concrete below. Please don't come crashing down onto the concrete below...") Seconds later, he was in the house, unlocking the door for us. I kept on thanking him, but he just grinned, "It was kind of fun!" (I have since made several new copies of our house key.)

Luke and I went to Luke's first classical concert this morning in downtown L.A. He had a pretty good time, for the first half-hour at least, and it helped that Reid and his family were there too. But I had a great time. It reminded me how much I love "Carnival of the Animals," I learned a few things I didn't know already, and I remembered how lucky I was to go to as many concerts as I did as a kid. Maybe Luke will grow into a stronger appreciation of that kind of thing.

Oh, and hey - Luke got this new shirt at school. Like it? Class of 2022 has a certain ring to it, doesn't it? They say this time is going to go fast, but I don't know - weeks like this one feel like they just never end.

Miles to go

Today's top headline, of course, is Dave's triumphant running of the Long Beach half-marathon. He made his goal time, he felt "relaxed and comfortable" the whole time, and he was positively glowing afterwards. I was so happy and proud I got a little choked up when I finally saw him.

I reluctantly made the decision not to go to the race in person, not wanting to have to shepherd two small boys through a crowd of 50,000, so I was sad not to be there for the finish line. But Boom-Boom was able to take some great race pictures, and we all gathered for a celebratory brunch afterwards, so it was almost as good as being there for the whole thing.

Notable on the signs that the boys made for Dave: Zach's scribbles, which he described as "Daddy running fast," and Luke's small illustration of a man with three horizonal lines in front of him. "That's to show that he's moving fast," he told me. (Moving fast backward? Hahahaha. But I give him credit for the thought.)

It was fourteen years ago this month that I ran my marathon, and it was hard not to do the old "that was then, this was now" comparison. I have great memories of family and friends coming down to D.C. to watch the race; a soda-can-sized Satchmo stealing everyone's attention, and the triumphant uphill slog past the 26-mile marker at the Iwo Jima memorial. Could I do it again? It's hard to imagine making the time for three- and four-hour runs with small kids to be tended to, but I suppose people have made harder things work. Seems like if one of us is about to go down that road, it's more likely to be Dave, who now has a running itch to scratch...

Luke is up to his usual schemes, coming up with ideas for earning Lego money. The other day he blockaded the bathroom and announced that he had set up a "bathroom store." "It costs $39.99 to come in to use the bathroom," he told me. Needless to say, that didn't go over well. His Christmas list is a continuous work in progress, all on a single page. Amazingly, there are two non-Lego items on there (a water gun and a robot).

Even though some of this stuff can be annoying, I'm happy that he's generally happy. I think it's safe to say that making new friends is one of his strong suits. The best way to describe his kindergarten experience so far is to say that his dance card is full - his afternoon schedule is packed with playdates with new friends. Plus it's amazing to watch him in action. The other day at the soccer game he started chatting with one of the boys from the opposing team, and they sat and shared snacks together and declared that they wanted a playdate. Similarly, at a birthday party the other day he made a new friend and marched me right over to the boy's mom so we could share contact information.

Zach has a new and odd little routine in which he regularly announces that he wants to go swimming and then proceeds to take off all of his clothes. This is usually followed by him putting on someone else's swimsuit in an extremely comical fashion. (In this photo he hung the lining of Dave's swimsuit over his head so he could walk with the suit around his waist, barrel-like.)

Also, he's not very talkative around other people, but when he says something, watch out. This afternoon after a playdate, Luke and his friend's brother were grousing about some sort of altercation ("He pushed me" "He got in my face" "He's not sharing" etc.) and all of the boys were walking sullenly to the car, when out of the blue, Zach spoke up and said very calmly, "Ty, you may not push Luke." Which of course cracked everyone up and broke the tension of the moment.

Obligatory cute kid story: Zach was helping me unload some grocery bags and he pulled out a butternut squash. He studied it thoughtfully, then handed it to me and said, "Mom, here's a really heavy pear."

By the numbers

360 = Approximate total dollars Dave and I spent on the elementary school fundraising party on Saturday night, including party tickets, shuttle bus tickets, casino chips, contribution to class gift basket, and winning bit on silent auction item. Ouch.
3 = Number of Pilates sessions Dave won in the silent auction. (For him, not me. Hmph.)
3 = Number of outfits I tried on in the 20 minutes before we left for the party (Theme: "A Night In Havana" - Dress for that, will you?).
5 = Number of times I had to ask for a mojito at the bar (staffed by drunken parents) before I got one. ("May I have one mojito please?" "M-m-m-mojito. Mmmmm. Mojito." "Did you try that Red Bull and vodka?" "How much longer are we on this shift?" "What was it you ordered again?")
8 = Number of parents at the party who spontaneously pledged $1,000 apiece, above and beyond other party contributions, to go toward new smart boards for each classroom.
50 = Minutes that it took Dave to work his way through the crowd of runners and make it to the finish line of the hometown 10K on Saturday morning.
2:4 = Ratio of hours we volunteered to work this weekend for the elementary school booth at the hometown fair, to the number of hours we actually worked. Luke couldn't be torn away. Something about selling things and collecting money really appeals to him.
2 = Number of nights Dave has now been away.
5 1/2 = Number of hours I slept last night with Dave gone.
1 = Number of trips to the pediatrician since Dave left. (Zach has a raging case of eczema, and possibly a sinus infection that just won't quit.)
5 = Number of different lotions and creams I had to apply to the boys before bedtime for various fungi and infections.
1 = New Zach-ism: He loves this train postcard that Luke bought for him, so I thumbtacked it onto his bulletin board. While Zach was lying in his bed, he looked at his postcard and said, "Mommy, no putting a dart through my train picture!"

"It's like fishing...but it's up."

Pear picking in the San Bernardino mountains yesterday... featuring the most beautiful scenery I could have asked for on a warm fall day. The picking was not quite as kid-friendly as I had hoped - the pears were way too high up for any human to reach - but they gave you these cool picking tools that made the whole effort a little more of an adventure.

In fact, it was kind of like fishing, as Luke pointed out. (Luke took this crazy topsy-turvy picture of me.)

Then when we had finally picked as many as we could stuff into our little bags, we sat down and ate pears that were fresh off the tree, still warm from the sun. Altogether, we picked two big bags of pears and another bag of apples. Safe to say that Luke had a great time and was pretty much a happy kid all day.

We were lucky - and smart - to go on a Monday (I convinced Dave to take the day off and his boss said it was OK, ha ha). Given that this farm was just written up in both Sunset and Westways magazine, it has been a mob scene on weekends (cars sitting in line just to make it up the single lane highway up the mountain). So we were fortunate to have plenty of time and space to enjoy the scenery and the adventure.

Once we exhausted ourselves picking, we went to lunch at a local coffee shop that has a reputation for the best apple pie on the mountain. (I think the pie was good, but it was served warm under two massive scoops of ice cream so I couldn't really tell. Personal preference alert: I do not like pie or cake served a la mode. Hard to believe, but true. Please keep your ice cream far away from my pie.) The coffee shop was opened in 1953, and they had a little clipping hanging on the wall of a newspaper article from its opening week. I was amused to see that the article noted that "Mrs. Law will be cooking, and Miss Jane Smith will assist in serving." Can you imagine one of today's newspapers reporting on the opening of a restaurant and naming the servers?

One bummer about the trip was that Zach wasn't into and/or wasn't able to participate in the picking as much as I had thought he might. After our tractor ride up the mountain he and Dave went off in search of farm animals and stacks of hay. (He howled in protest during the entire tractor ride, but strangely enough, this morning at school he was eager to tell his teacher that he had gone on a tractor).

After lunch he wanted to go and ride on a little kiddie tractor, where you put the money in and in bounces up and down. First he rode it with kind of a skeptical look; then he asked me to put in more money so that he could get down on the ground and watch it from underneath as it bounced up and down. Our future engineer?

Watch This!

Los Lonely Boys

Poor us. Dave was gone last night, and he was supposed to be home tonight, but he missed his plane and also missed another night with the boys. They're asleep now, and I'm still wondering if I'll see him before I cash it in for the night.

Fridays are a funny day for me. I have a babysitter from 9 to 5 but I rarely have a kid-free day. I usually spend some special time with Luke, and occasionally I take Juana and Zach and Luke on an outing that I wouldn't want to do by myself with the boys. Then there are days like today when I'm in constant motion with kid and non-kid activities. Today's list included food prep time for a morning playdate with a neighborhood buddy; four different appointments including a Zach doctor appointment; a trip to the pharmacy; a swim at the gym; and pretty soon I'm starting to wonder when I can get another babysitter so I can have some "free" time.

Our unexpected night-without-Dave threw us for a loop a little bit. After last night, I had started running out of ideas for special Dad-is-gone treats. But Luke hauled out the Legos, so he was busy building more fighter spaceships, and Zach had gotten a new airplane * after his trip to the doctor so he was happy to join in the fun. "This plane is flying to Legoland!" Zach declared.

Then I took them both in the pool (the theory is that splashing around in the warm water makes them tired, but I'm not so sure) and after a variety of last-minute water, Lego, and toy distractions, I was able to herd them, cat-like, into the bedroom. Do we miss Dave? Every minute. But each time, as the boys get older, it gets a little bit easier. Even so, I can't imagine a life where, say, one partner is deployed for a year or more at a time. We start moaning and complaining about Dave being gone before we even reach the 24-hour mark.

And here comes Dave in the door right now. Yay - home at last, where he belongs.

* The airplane is modeled to look like Air Force One. But when you push the wheels down, the lights flash and a woman's voice, in a very thick Chinese accent, says, "Welcome aboard. Wish you very pleasant flight."

Capture It

I had a moment yesterday (just a moment; don't get too excited) where it seemed like everything was finally going well for everyone - school, work, social life, everything. And I just wished there could be some way to capture that feeling. And then just by happenstance, one of Luke's "just for fun" school assignments was to "draw a picture of how you get to school" - and he went right to work, creating this beautiful masterpiece, my favorite picture ever. He got all of the details right, down to my crooked glasses and flyaway hair, and his extra-large backpack straps and quizzical head tilt. And we're holding hands of course. I was so proud I wanted to pin this picture on my shirt and wear it around all day.

It's not just Luke who is having some good times; Zach seem to be loving the 2-year-old class at school. Every day comes a new report of how he was crazy/silly/happy all morning. Yesterday he had a great time in Spanish class; the teacher brought in all kinds of fruits and vegetables, put googly eyes on them, gave them each a "name" (the Spanish word for the fruit) and started talking to them - which Zach thought was hilarious. Today on the way home, he told me, "I had good fun, Mommy."

Zach and I had a pretty rough summer together, once I weaned him and he was struggling with molars, transitions, etc. But suddenly things seem to be much better and just happier between us. He's very much in mommy-mode, but he's super-snuggly and gives enormous hugs, so I can't argue with that.

Dave and I are each busy with our own projects - Dave is at the apex of training for his half-marathon, and I've been practicing with my swim team. We're not exactly hard-core around here or anything (or at least I'm not) but it's been fun to have that kind of outlet, and while one of us is busy, the other one is having good times with the boys.

Of course we still have issues. Most of them are Lego related. Yesterday afternoon (after my little mommy-picture high) Luke had a total crash-and-burn. Long story short: After I finally explained to Luke that big-ticket toy items were only for Christmas or birthdays, his best friend got a $100 Lego set out of nowhere. Which crushed him. Then Luke went over to his friend's house to help him put it together and when it was time to leave Luke completely fell apart. As a consolation prize Luke took home the box that the toy came in and he has been curling up with the empty box ever since then, fervently studying the diagram of the Lego set. (It's the Galactic Enforcer, for anyone who is so moved by this pathetic story that they want to send him one.)

So let's cheer me up by thinking of some funny stuff. This morning when I put some ointment on Zach's diaper rash, he looked at me and said, "Good job, Mom!" And at night when we say our nighttime prayers, I always end with "A-men!" and Zach always pops his head up and says, "Luke says, "Aw, man!'"

The other day I noticed a piece of scrap paper on the table that had an 800 number scrawled on it in Luke's handwriting. Luke explained, "I saw it on TV, so I wrote it down for you, Mom. If you call this number you can save $599 dollars."

Needless to say, I haven't called the number yet. I guess that's why I still can't afford the Galactic Enforcer.

Group Shot

The last two weeks have been a doozy (have been doozies?) so I am sure I'm not going to cover everything interesting or even momentous; I just want to move along with my life and my blog-bligation.

Luke is good; kindergarten suits him well. I volunteered in his class on Thursday and Friday and, without violating any confidentiality agreements, I can say that Luke is a great student (especially compared to some of the other squirrelly, can't-sit-still little kids). It was fun to be there on Friday to help out on his class picture day; with only 16 kids it feels like a nice little group.

He's also having a great time - surprisingly for me - on his soccer team, the Orange Firebombs (total kid name). I haven't been to a game yet (the games are all scheduled for mid-afternoon, right during Zach's nap) but for the past two weeks Luke and Assistant Coach Dave have come back with glowing reports. Even though they are not supposed to be keeping score, their team is apparently scoring a lot more goals than the other teams, which Luke finds entirely thrilling. And he "almost" scored a goal yesterday.

Zach is... what is he? He's having a hard time getting dropped off at school; then he's having a great time; then he's happy at home; then he's completely miserable. I don't know quite what to make of this. He is completely lovable, except on days like yesterday when he was having the Day of Destruction. Everything that he could throw, dump, or spill...he did. Every moment that he could be chilling out, he was screaming. I still don't know what was going on with him but he seems to be better today, which is good, because I was ready to put myself up for adoption by some nice, calm, non-throwing, non-dumping family.


A friend of mine in New Hampshire has a son whose class is doing a Flat Stanley project and they sent us the Flat Stanley to take some pictures here and there. I thought Luke would enjoy it - and maybe he is for all I know - but for the moment I'm the one having the most fun with it and planning little outings. Here's Flat Stanley "hanging ten" off the pier this morning. Gnarly, dude.

The Mediterranean experience

Who says I have to post pictures of the boys all the time? I mean really, who slaves after this blog day after day? So, for a little variety, here's a pic of my birthday boots. I saw them in the store, and decided they were incredibly impractical for the price, and then I kept thinking about them, and thinking about them, and thinking about them... Those poor souls who hung out with me during those difficult days had to listen to me endlessly weighing the pros and cons of a frivolous purchase. But then I decided to just pull the trigger and do it, so here they are in all their glory. Suzi insisted on taking this picture before Dave and I went out on the town the other night (while Suzi and Boom-Boom babysat, thank you very much by the way).

Yesterday Dave and the boys and I made our first pilgrimage to one of the most celebrated hole-in-the-wall pizza places in all of L.A. It's a Croatian pizza place in San Pedro (big Croatian population there) and of course we got the most famous pizza, which is called the "San Pedro" (half Italian, half Croatian). The Italian half has ham, artichokes, and mushrooms; the Croatian half has feta cheese, olives, red onions, mushrooms, and beef carpaccio. We decided to get a small cheese pizza for the boys, and the owner gave it to us for free ("You came such a long way, and I know you'll be back," he grinned.)

This pizza place has no seating, so the deal is you get your pizza and take it right down the road to this beautiful park at the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean (to get the true Mediterranean experience).

We were all completely blown away by the pizza and the scenery. In fact, the rocky beach down below was so inviting we decided to come all the way back after Zach's nap for a little sunset tidepool-walking.

Today was another beach day -- this time at our hometown beach -- and it's too bad summer is officially over, because we are just getting the system down. We head down the hill with our all-terrain wagon stuffed to the gills with chairs, towels, toys, clothes, and the canopy; plus a massive cooler filled with ice and drinks to share. We invited about 10 families, and about seven of those showed up, plus two more families whom we didn't expect but were glad to see anyway. While the kids played on the sand I went for an ocean swim with two of the dads who are both training for triathlons, and I was secretly pleased to swim almost twice as fast as them (doubling back to wait for them to catch up). Heh. Not that I'm gloating or anything.

Afterwards Luke set up shop outside our house with the leftover drinks and it was a surprisingly slow sales day, for Labor Day. (Luke spent most of his time reading from the Calvin and Hobbes Treasury.) Then Hatcher came over to help sell, and the boys got more interested in doing boy-type things (playing with Legos, having fun in the pool) than in minding the store. Which is fine. That's what summer is for, right?

Yeah, school!!!

We did it! We got through the first day of the rest of our 16 years in the public school system. Not a bad start, all in all... No one shed any tears, except maybe a few by Luke at the end of the day when I told him that we weren't going to have a second playdate in a row with his new buddy Shane (his mom and I decided they both needed to chill out a little bit this afternoon after all the excitement). Nevertheless, the teacher seems good, the class seems good, and it's hard to tell much of anything from the first day, but I think he's going to be just fine. The best part of his new class, from my perspective, is that there are only 17 kids in his class. For most kindergartens, and certainly for California, that's about as small a class as you can possibly get. And that's a good thing.

Zach had his first day in his new 2-year-old class and that seemed to go pretty well too. Dave dropped him off and picked him up, which was a special bonus, because Zach never seems to cry when Dave is involved, so it was essentially a tear-free drop-off and pick-up today. Of course, then when Dave left the house to get back to work, Zach nearly fell apart, but then I guess we had to assume there'd be some collateral damage.

All in all, I guess there's not that much to say. I thought I'd be more emotional about it - and I'm sure I have some undercurrents of anxiety on Luke's behalf; otherwise why would I have woken up at 5:30 this morning? - but other than that I'd just say it was pretty.... uneventful. What a boring story this is turning out to be. Sorry, everyone. Just look at the pretty pictures and then move along, move along...

Yeah, birthday!!!

The hour is late, and we 41-year-olds need our beauty sleep, so I'll see if I can wrap this up quickly. We had a great birthday dinner last night with Suzi and Bill, and it was notable for the fact that both boys sat at the table for the entire meal. Perfect. Then we retired back to the house for Suzi and Luke's special birthday cake creation, which Zach had already declared as "his" birthday cake. "My birthday is coming up!" he kept reminding us.

Today was a wild and wacky day, with a morning playdate with some old friends, followed by an ice cream social for Luke's new class, which then evolved into a second playdate at our house with some new friends from Luke's kindergarten class. (It turns out that among the five- and six-year-old set, all you have to do is say the word "Lego" and you can be fast friends.) When we finally said goodbye to our guests, and cleaned up the damage, we went out to a little Mexican restaurant on the beach and we had Mexican food and margaritas while watching the sun set beside us. Not a bad day at all.

Speaking of Legos, and Luke... He seems to have become dissatisfied with the pace at which people are buying him new Lego sets, so he took matters in his own hands this weekend. At some point during a very hot day at the beach, he and his friend decided to start selling the cold drinks we had sitting on ice in our jumbo cooler. ("Cold drinks for a dollar!") They were delighted when they both made $2, but Luke still wasn't satisfied. He insisted on continuing the sale in the driveway when we got home, and he made an extra $7 to bring the total take to $9. Mostly he made the money because he was so completely committed to the cause - sitting out in the broiling sun, not interested in taking a break, and corralling anyone who happened to be walking in the vicinity ("Excuse me - Would you like to buy a cold drink?") On Sunday he was chomping at the bit to "set up his sale" again, and even though there weren't that many drinks or that much ice left, he somehow charmed passers-by into spending another $13, bringing his total take to $22. That, my friends, buys a fairly decent Lego set. Problem is, now I have to explain to him that he can't just sell stuff out of our driveway every weekend.

Luke lost another tooth yesterday morning, which means that he is headed off to kindergarten tomorrow with three teeth missing. Now he has a totally sweet gap-toothed grin. I wonder if he'll charm his teacher as much as he's charmed the rest of us?

Yeah, toast!!!

Last week on my first night away from Zach, I was a little unsure what to expect when they called me from home. Would Zach be asking for me? Would he hear my voice and get upset? Turns out it was almost completely a non-issue.

Before they called me, Zach and Dave went out for dinner at our Cuban place (the place where we used to go all the time before Luke stopped liking most foods) and Zach was completely thrilled by the Cuban toast (thickly sliced bread, fried in butter....mmmmm). ("I had good fun at the new new restaurant," Zach declared on the way home.) At some point along the way they started singing the "Toast" song and by the time they called me, that's all Zach wanted to talk about.

Me: "How was your dinner, Zach?"
Zach: "Yeah, toast!!!"
Me: "Did you have fun at a new restaurant with Daddy?"
Zach: "Yeah, toast!!!"
Me: "Are you going meet us at Legoland tomorrow?"
Zach: "Yeah, toast!!!!"

...and so on. In the past few days it's been expanded to include, "Yeah, milk!" and "Yeah, beach!" and "Yeah, Legos!"

Speaking of Legos, our resident master builder has a new thing going on. He asked how he could earn a Lego set, so I told him if he ate just a normal dinner (i.e. what I cooked for the rest of the family) every night for a whole month I'd buy him a Lego set. I didn't expect we'd get too far with it. But last night he took up the cause with such great enthusiasm it was both comical and unbelievable.

"Boy, I can't wait to eat this salad," he'd say, lifting leaf after leaf into his mouth. "Could someone help me with this corn? I want to eat it but I'm having trouble with my loose tooth." But the best comments were saved for the hamburger, a food he hasn't eaten in about two years: "This hamburger is delicious! I am just putting it in my mouth and my brain is saying, 'WOW!'" It tastes so good with ketchup! We should have hamburgers every night!"

Dave and I were basically stunned into silence; and we both needed to alternate slipping into the kitchen to choke down laughter. I don't know if this is going to last for a full month, but I think we're off to a good start.

Land o' Legos

We're back from an exhausting two days at Legoland and that's about as much time as I ever want to spend on canned family entertainment. But you know, the kids each had fun in their own way and Zach and I survived our first night apart, so it's all good.

The first day was just me and Luke. Now Luke and Legoland sounds like it would be a good mix, but here's the thing about Luke: He doesn't like rides, and he really only wants to buy Lego sets. So most of the first morning was spent wandering around the park with him complaining that he just wanted to go back to the main store, and me pushing him to keep checking out the park. I'm sad to say that I was starting to sound like a broken record with repeated threats to take him home if he didn't stop talking about buying a Lego set. Eventually we found a few things he liked (factory tour, building a Lego race car, looking at Miniland). I convinced him to go on about three rides total, and he didn't like any of them - and in fact he was terrified by the gentle boat ride through a fairy tale woods (because he didn't like the "Fee Fi Fo Fum" giant and the wolf popping up out of the water).

But we worked it out by the end of the day and went back to our hotel, where we settled in happily: me chilling out in the soft white sheets, and Luke at the coffee table building his new Lego set. Back when Luke and Zach were infants waking up in the middle of the night I would have this recurring fantasy about staying in a hotel room, soft white sheets and all, and blissfully drifting off to sleep without the chance of anyone waking me up. So I finally got a chance to live out my white-sheet hotel-room fantasy (five and a half years after the fact, but still...). True, Luke was asleep in the next room of the suite, but we were both so tired there was little chance of either of us waking up that night.


The next morning after pigging out on the hotel breakfast, Luke and I picked Dave and Zach up from the train station and we all headed back to Legoland. The second day was actually better because we convinced Luke to go on a few rides, Luke got to show Dave what he liked the most, and Zach had an absolute blast. Zach measured just a hair over the 36-inch minimum for most rides, so he was able to do roller coasters, etc.

At the very end, Luke fell in love with a ball attraction where you shoot soft balls at other kids with cannons... and right across the way there was an airplane ride that made Zach giddy with excitement. So we spent the last hour or so letting them indulge themselves shooting and flying, and all of those things that you generally get in trouble for if you do inside the house.

Side note: On our trip back East, we actually forgot to bring a stroller with us, so we never had one the whole time, and we didn't bother bringing it to Legoland either. Zach is mostly happy to hoof it on his own and the only time he really needs to be carried is when he has to be dragged away from something. Which happens. I mean, really. He's two.

Side note to the side note: The other morning I took a shower, and Zach got all geared up looking at running water and decided to take a bath. My exact words were something like, "I'm packing, sweetie, I can't give you a bath right now." So Zach, being the literalist that he is, nonchalantly took off his diaper, climbed into the tub, turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, put the stopper in the drain, and proceeded to take his own bath. I think he's trying to tell me something, but I'm not sure exactly what it means.

Vacation pics, Part V

OK, this is the last round of East Coast vacation pics. I'm trying to close this chapter because we just got back from Legoland and I have so many new pictures I can't even catch up with my own vacations. I'm going to have to start Twittering or tweeting instead.

These are from the famous blueberry-picking trip, and again, my only regret from the whole morning is that I don't have a picture of Mom and Dad sitting on the back of the pickup truck. Well, there's always next year...



In case it's too hard to imagine just how many blueberries we picked, consider that I took home only a tiny fraction of the haul, and my fridge is full. I'm going to have to freeze them so we have some fresh blueberries to enjoy in, say, January. Oh, and we made the blueberry jam while the blueberries were still warm from the sun. Do you think there's anyone in town who has fresher blueberry jam than we do?

Vacation pics, Part IV

When it gets to be this hot, you have to have a water-balloon fight...





Zach is quickly becoming known for his quirky, repetitive phrases. One of his favorite things to do is to drink milk out of a bowl on the floor, and then stand up and announce, "I'm a cat drinking three bowls of milk!" (a sentence borrowed from one of his favorite books).

At one point when the dogs visited the house, Stella tried to get in the dishwasher for some yummy leftovers. Then, for hours afterward, Zach asked Mom, "Grandma Joan, does a dog go in a dishwasher?" (It was funny/cute for the first hundred times, because he kept asking with a smile on his face and a twinkle in the eye, like, of COURSE he knew the answer).

And of course he couldn't resist driving Joe's old "seegle-cycle."

Vacation pics, Part III

Post-Pocono activities include the amusement park and Bug-Fest (yes, that is Dave working as a beekeeper...)