I Wish

Luke has been feeling a little glum since he failed in his attempt to fleece the tooth fairy last week. (He left a note under his pillow asking for a $100 bill, with a jar of his old teeth as an offering. The tooth fairy responded with a very nice note that essentially amounted to, "Nice try.") He'll do just about anything for more money to buy Lego sets, so this week he came up with a new tactic: wishing in a fountain.

After dinner the other night we passed by a fountain in the mall and he begged for some pennies to make a wish. I was curious about what could be so urgent that he needed to make a wish right away, so I leaned in a little bit to hear what he was saying. He scrunched up his eyes tightly, grasped the penny, and then flung it into the water saying quietly, "I wish I had a $100 bill!" Next he repeated this with a second penny and a sweeter, more poignant desire, "I wish I was braver!" Something must have worked because even though he didn't get the $100 bill, he reported to me the next morning that he was pretty sure he was a little bit braver.

Today we were running some errands and he became adamant that we needed to go to the mall, and no other, closer fountain would do. ("Mom, that fountain at the mall has crystals in it.") He had even brought four of his own pennies with him for wish-making purposes. So we headed back over there, because, of course, I can't resist a good excuse to go to the mall. On the way inside he didn't want to tell me what his wish was going to be. "But I can tell you this, Mom. Tomorrow I'm going to be flying with the birds."

This time I didn't eavesdrop; I just watched him concentrating carefully as he murmured his words and carefully tossed each of the four pennies into the fountain. When he was finished I asked him if he wanted another penny from my wallet. A bonus wish! He took a deep breath and said quietly, "I wish I could shoot lasers out of my eyes," and then sent the penny flying into the fountain.

More bulletins tomorrow as events warrant.

You Can Call Me Al

Top five Zach nicknames:
5. Zooey
4. Zacker Cracker (entirely Dave, with minor Helena influence)
3. Gooey Goo
2. Beauty (I know I shouldn't but I can't help it)
1. ZZ

Top three Luke nicknames:
3. Louie
2. Lou
1. LUKEPICKUPYOURLEGOS!!!

Filling the Space

So, have I mentioned that we appear to be raising a lefty? I just wonder if there is anything I need to do differently, or, say, inversely, of what I have done for Luke.

Anyway, in the two weeks since I've written we've managed multiple post-holiday meltdowns, a handful of birthday parties, about four inches of rain, and two ear infections. I've reconnected with several old colleagues, one of whom has offered me some potentially long-term freelance work. Meanwhile, Dave and I quietly marked the 14-year anniversary of our first dinner-and-a-movie, an event that was followed by the longest phone conversation ever, and the beginning of a lifetime of wanting to be next to him, talking to him, all the time.

I haven't had the camera out much, although I do have this picture to offer. Our beloved housecleaners, Beatriz and Felipe, whom we have known for almost ten years, seem to enjoy our kids almost as much as we do. Sometimes it seems like they come early or stay late just to hang out and talk with the boys. On Friday when they arrived, Zach happened to be dragging around a spool of ribbon. Beatriz swooped him up in her arms and declared that she wanted him for a present. He gleefully allowed her to tie him up with a bow and then walked around proudly 'wrapped' up for most of the morning. Later, when he made some artwork with me, he insisted on going downstairs to show them, which of course delighted them to no end. It is a very sweet relationship.

Some friends of ours gave us a bunk bed that they were no longer using, and we have plans to use it as a "real" bunk bed one of these days, but for the moment, things that involve ladders are just far too much of a temptation for Zach. Today we assembled them as single side-by-side beds, replacing the old, low platform beds that we've had for a while, and the boys were delighted to have new and bigger places to sleep. (The new beds are slightly longer and wider, and have headboards and footboards and finials, in contrast to our pared-down single-plank platform beds.)

So, new beds. Yes indeedy. [Crickets.] Actually, now I'm not so sure why I brought it up. I guess there's not much more of a story to it than that, for the moment. The boys are both asleep now, but stay tuned: I suppose if there's some bed-related mishap in the middle of the night I'll have to come back and post an update.

[Crickets]

T-shirt weather. Aaaahhhh, t-shirt weather. Nice and warm in front of the Hollywood sign here today. Yessirree, nice and warm...

Where was I? Oh, right. Current events. You know what it's like when you have a progressive dinner? When the house is quiet and clean and ready, and then all of a sudden a hungry horde streams into your house, devours your food, and then ...[sound of crickets]....? That's what we had on Friday afternoon for our first successful foray into entertaining the elementary school crowd. We invited everyone in Luke's class over after school for make-your-own-cupcakes and pizza. The house was totally quiet while Dave and I hung streamers, arranged tables and frosting and toppings, and stacked up pizzas in the dining room. Then ... zzzzzzzooooom! The hungry crowd of five-year-olds (and assorted siblings) stormed the house. Within minutes the cupcake table had been attacked and the hungry mob was momentarily silenced as cake crumbs flew into the air (cue the "Nom, nom, nom" sound). After we sang "Happy Birthday" to Luke, I announced that there was pizza upstairs, and... whoosh! The whole crowd vanished from the backyard and headed up the stairs. Everyone gathered on the balcony and the crowd was once again silenced as pizza crumbs flew in the air ("Nom, nom, nom, nom...").

After that everyone seemed to settle in, and the kids all started to feel comfortable. We had a Lego table set up, so that kept a few kids occupied at a time. The other games they came up with were 1) a variation on the "clown car" concept, in which everyone was trying to crowd into the playhouse at one time, and 2) some sort of boys-against-girls spy game, in which balloons, flashlights, pirate swords, and power tools were being employed as weapons. But in the end, everyone had fun, nothing got broken, and there were only 5 cupcakes left over (from the 66 cupcakes I had originally set out). Good times.

For anyone who thinks of Luke as the outgoing one and Zach as the shy one, think again. Zach is becoming bolder each day and he seems to have no fear about going up to people and asking questions. Today at Griffith Park we saw a man with a tiny chihuahua. Zach wanted to know what the dog's name was, so I said, "Well, you can go ahead and ask him." Which Zach did. Unfortunately, the man didn't speak English. He managed to convey to me that the dog was only two days old and didn't have a name yet. But Zach was undeterred. He looked up at the man and continued to ask a series of questions that had me and Luke (and the man) cracking up (and you have to imagine each of these questions being asked slowly, with the little lilt going up higher and higher at the end of each one): "Does your dog like to chew on a bone?" "Does your dog like to bark?" "Does your dog like to sleep in his dog bed?" "Does your dog like to snuggle with you?"

Today was the second day in a row Luke has been asking if we have any tomatoes - which made Dave and I briefly consider the idea that we had a case of scurvy on our hands - so when we got home from Griffith Park I sliced up some tomatoes for Luke. Next I made some guacamole for Luke (a food that Zach has never really gotten in to) and a big pot of chicken soup for Zach (a food that Luke has vehemently disdained almost all his life). But then I hauled out a new loaf of olive bread, which is something they both can agree on. And the crumbs went flying. Nom, nom, nom, nom.

You Don't Say

A friend of mine told me that her sons have been doing a spot-on Zach imitation at home. If you haven't been around him lately, you haven't heard the musical lilt he adds to the last word at the end of a sentence. If it's a one syllable word, it now has three: "I see a bli-ii-iimp." We're wondering what it will take for him to finally lose that little trademark flourish. In the meantime, it's becoming quite contagious. You only have to spend a few hours with him before you hear yourself saying, "We have to get in the ca-aa-ar so we can go to the sto-ooo-ore to buy some mi-iiii-ilk."

We're also laughing at other Zach-isms. For a few months he's been watching Luke play Nerf dart tag with his friends. But for some reason he hears "a Nerf gun" as "an Urf gun." So he'll wander around the house asking for his turn on the "Urf gun," which amuses Luke to no end.

Also Luke got a Luke Skywalker figurine for his birthday and at one point we must have told Zach, "This is Luke Skywalker," because he heard it as "Luke's Guywalker." Now if he sees it he'll hand it to Luke and say, "Luke - Here's your Guywalker!"

Luke, who's still reaping the rewards of a weeks-long celebration of Hanukkah, Christmas, and his birthday, is becoming remarkably patient with Zach. Yesterday morning they were both gearing up for a fight over something, and I could see Zach girding for battle, and then all of a sudden Luke kissed him on the nose and completely disarmed him. Talk about charming the enemy.

Aunt Marie gave Luke a special light for his room that casts a rainbow across the ceiling. Tonight at bedtime we turned off the lights and turned on the rainbow, which stretched from end to end across the ceiling. Then we noticed that it seemed to start right at the point where Zach's blimp was hanging, all the way over to Luke's Underground Mining Station at the other end of the room. From blimps to Legos - it seemed poetic somehow - and both boys were quite pleased before they drifted off to sleep.

Speedy

Two nights before we left NJ, I was lying in bed running through a mental list of my favorite parts of the vacation. Of course there was the excitement of present-opening, the thrill of Luke's birthday trip to the Lego store, the joy of watching the cousins play together, and the fun of sledding down the hill at my old elementary school with Luke. There was Christmas Eve Mass, spent sweltering in the heat of the church basement with a singer who sounded like (according to my dad) "a dying cat ...underwater ...recorded on very poor-quality sound equipment -- only worse," when Zach suddenly declared, "Help! Help! I gotta get out of here!!!" and bolted down the aisle and out the door. And of course there was Zach's spot-on imitation of a Philly accent: "We are walking in the sn-eeeeaaaoooow!"

But little did I know that there were more memorable times in store for our last morning in town, with the cutest little snow storm and the most packable snow ever touched by human hands. As soon as we went outside we discovered that you could just roll the snow up from the ground, cartoon-like, and make perfectly round balls that got bigger and bigger the more you rolled them. We made four snowmen in all - a perfect set for a perfect morning.

Yesterday morning when we flew out Dave and I got up at 4:45 in the morning (East Coast time) to get ourselves ready for the 7:40 am flight. The trip was totally fine but something about the timing just completely destroyed me. I usually have no trouble at all traveling in this direction, but this time it's going to take me about two days to get back onto West Coast time.

Today we decided to make the best of a wacky day and so we headed out to Pasadena to view all of the Rose Bowl floats close up and in person. I think we underestimated how crowded and hot it would be. By the time we left, the line of people waiting to take a shuttle bus was snaking all around the Rose Bowl parking complex. Oh, and did I mention that we were all super-tired and cranky?

But when we finally got back in the car, Luke said, "When I think of floats, I think of a root beer float and it makes me want ice cream." We all agreed that was just the ticket, so we went to an old-timey hamburger stand and got milkshakes to share. Finally cool again - whew.

To add a little randomness to this nice new year, here's a picture of Zach holding a stalk of Brussels sprouts. Rosemary served them for Christmas dinner, and Dave and I were literally fighting over the last piece, so we are planning to re-create her recipe at our house this week. Oh, and Zach finally got his own goldfish today. He decided to name him Speedy. I don't know why, but I love it, just like I love having him and all of us, back safe at home.

Have a Lego

Another Luke birthday and if I only had two words to describe it, those words would be "cold" and "Legos" (but not cold Legos). It's only about 25 degrees, and with 25 mph winds, that makes it just about zero, right? Luke wanted to play with his new Legos outside at one point, and he insisted on going outside without a jacket on, but it was only a matter of seconds before he was back inside, putting on every possible layer.

The real birthday celebrations started two days ago, when Luke came out to Joe's a day ahead of everyone else for a sleepover with his cousins. Let's just say there was a lot of Wii involved and not so much sleep.

Yesterday Dave and Zach and I arrived here for the real action to start. Five boys and I piled into Joe's car and headed to the Lego store for about 30 minutes of pure, unadulterated joy on Luke's part. Then we came home, weighted down by big yellow bags, and settled in for a night of Lego building.

I thought we were going to order in, but what do you know, Joe just happened to have some filet mignon lying around, and he made some chimichurri-style sauce, and Sara made some Mexican-inspired Puerto Rican beans (her description) and rice, and before you knew it, it was as if we were dining at the finest restaurant in town.

Today we built a Lego cake and Joe made a pizza-and-pasta feast. There were 12 of us altogether once Mom and Dad, Uncle Larry, and Aunt Marie arrived. Good food, good times. I love you, my six-year-old boy.

A very blimpy Christmas

Presents from Santa... Waiting for the cousins... Joyful present chaos... Christmas at the Marriott... fishing for presents... the annual song-fest.

Joy, Anticipation

Lemonade Limbo

I guess it's pretty clear from the pictures that right now we're back home wearing t-shirts, not chattering in the Philly suburbs. Oh, we'd like to be there. And we spent about $70 in assorted cab rides, tips, and airport food yesterday trying to get there. But a little weather condition had the final say in whether it was going to happen or not, and by 3 pm we were headed back home from the airport, defeated. (All things considered, it was still better than being in Charlotte, where the flight before us had been diverted - and where there were most likely no hotel rooms to be found.)

Luke was tremendously disappointed (I nearly had to drag him out of the terminal) and so I had to give him one of these little pep talks about how sometimes when life hands us a bunch of lemons we have to make lemonade. So we got home from the airport and literally made lemonade. Really, like the stuff you drink. It was a little bit of a necessity both to lift our spirits, and to give us something to drink: I had done such a good job of clearing out the fridge before we left that we had nothing else left besides a few lemons.

But then we found ourselves in a weird sort of limbo. We hadn't planned to be home at all; what were we supposed to do? Dave hatched a plan to drive us all down to Legoland, which sounded great in theory, but we both knew that we'd pay a hefty entrance fee to get into the park, and all Luke would want to do would be to go to the Lego store. So we came up with an alternate plan: We'd give Luke one of his Lego presents early, and let him build it over at Suzi and Boom-Boom's house, while Dave and I took Zach to a little-kid amusement park nearby.

Luke was thrilled that "Santa" mysteriously dropped off a new Lego set and Zach was delighted about the opportunity to ride a "bumpy train" at "Special Other Legoland." But what I didn't take into account was how much fun I would have there. I can't even remember the last time Dave and I took Zach somewhere special by himself, and the last few times we've been anywhere amusement park-y, we've had to contend with Luke moping and complaining because he doesn't really like going on rides. So this trip freed us all up to have some fun.

Plane rides? Wheeeee! Kiddie train around the park? Let's do it again! Train table play area? Let's hang out for as long as we like! (I call this Zach's "Blue Steel" pose, by the way.) It helped that this was my kind of amusement park - small, uncrowded, no lines for rides, and not hyper-commercialized.

At one point when Zach and Dave were in the plane ride, Dave convinced Zach to try to say hi to me down below. So when he saw my face, he began to greet me in his own Zach-ish way, slow and deliberate. "Hi...Mommy...I'm flying...in a plane...up high..." By the time he'd finish his well-crafted little sentence, the ride had made a full revolution and he'd see me again. "Hi...Mommy...I'm flying...in a plane..." and so on.

Afterward we all reconnected and went out for pizza together. Luke had a great day because he was building Legos, and Zach had a great day because he had our undivided attention while he went on ride after ride. "Mom, from now on when I have a bad day I'm going to call it a lemon day," Luke told me as I was tucking him in. "But today was definitely a lemonade day."

What goes up

Before we get to some of the more current stuff, I don't want to forget to mention that Zach had his first holiday show (with his little class from school) last Thursday night. The idea was that they would all go up to the front of the auditorium (dressed in green) and sing two little songs along with their teachers. Of course, like most two-year-olds, Zach had other ideas about what was going to happen. He refused to go up on stage without Dave (which gave Dave some time in the spotlight in front of all the other parents) and made himself maddeningly hard to see during the performance (standing behind another girl). But Bill (and Suzi, our faithful audience for all family spectacles) got a few shots of Dave and Zach waiting together at stage left after the performance.

For the past few months when we've talked about Christmas, Zach has been saying, "Christmas is coming... I'm going to be a blimp for Halloween." Then he started modifying it to say, "I'm going to be a blimp for Christmas." And then later: "I'm going to open a present and it will be a blimp." I didn't want to promise him anything, but... We had our traditional gift-giving day with Dave's family this weekend, and Suzi and Bill got Zach the biggest blimp any two-year-old could ever want. Of course he loved all of his gifts, especially the "car carrier-ier-ier-ier" from Grandma Bobbie and Granddad, but he's made a point to keep the blimp near at all times. Mostly he carries around the blimp during the day, and then it hangs on the ceiling of his room at night.

Luke has been driving himself mad with Lego anticipation, and he got some of it relieved on Sunday when Suzi and Bill gave him a Bionicle, and Grandma Bobbie and Granddad got him a cool robot Transformer. So here's a picture of him doing what he'd be happy to do all day long if he could.

Sunday night we got to enjoy one of my favorite So. Cal. traditions - the annual holiday fireworks at the pier. This year we walked down to the beach with the boys (no stroller), all lit up with various glow-sticks and bracelets, and the mood was happy and festive. When we snuggled together on the sand to watch the first few fireworks, I had no sooner finished saying, "This is my favorite fireworks show ever," - and those words were hanging in the air in a little voice balloon - when Zach announced, "I don't want to see the fireworks, I want to go home." So unlike last year, when he thought they were hilarious, this year he thought they were a little too close and scary for comfort. Maybe next year will be my favorite year instead.

Somehow Luke seems to have worked a notch up in his maturity level. Usually when he and Zach are arguing about something, it's a knock-down, drag-em-out fight until the end. But lately Luke has been resolving things himself, whether it's giving Zach a piece of his cookie, letting him choose the TV show, handing over a toy, or doing whatever it takes to keep the peace. I don't know if he's trying to be "better" than usual for Santa's benefit, or if he just has started to notice that things are much nicer around the house when he and Zach aren't clawing at each other, but either way, I'll take it for now. We'll see if it lasts beyond December 25.

Me, me, me. Oh, and how about some more about me?

I think it's safe to say that for a large majority of the time, I'm focused on doing things for someone or everyone else in the house. So this weekend marked a strange little twist in that I spent the whole time making everyone do things that revolved around me. Prior to my swim meet (the Southern Pacific Masters' regional championships) I had been thinking, "How many 41-year-olds are really willing to get out there and practice swimming and then spend the weekend going to a swim meet?" Turns out, the answer is "The ones who are REALLY good." It was a little humbling to learn that I was seeded 11th out of 11 in my age group for my first event (50 fly), and even though I swam what I thought was a great time, I came in 9th out of 9 (two people didn't show up). I felt even worse that I didn't even earn any points for my team after all that. So I had to change my focus a little bit, and turn it around so that every time I was up on the starting blocks I'd do a little self-check: Am I having fun? Yes. OK, good. Carry on.

Altogether I swam 6 events and two relays. I got fourth place in the 100 IM and 100 fly, 6th place in 50 breaststroke, and third place for a 200 medley relay I swam with some teammates (the picture above is of me on the starting blocks while my teammate swims in). I earned my first ribbons in 23 years, and I experienced the joy of having the family (Dave brought the boys and Suzi and Bill came too) cheering for me at the start and finish (and also the crazy new option of having some folks watch me live online at www.liveswim.net).

The people at this meet amazed me. There were some 60- and 70-year-old grandmas strutting their stuff in Michael Phelps-style full-length swimsuits. There were some 80- and 90-year-olds racing, which seems like accomplishment enough. There was an elderly woman in a wheelchair who got some help gently lowering herself into the water, then went on to swim a very competent 100 backstroke. And then there were people setting national and world age group records left and right. All day today I kept thinking about those people: On Sunday they set a world record in a swimming event. Today, instead of spending the day lounging around in a posh hotel room while a publicist fields calls from corporate sponsors and the media, they are probably sitting at a desk somewhere, largely unnoticed. Phew. Seems unfair, somehow.

So now that I spent an entire weekend away from the family, it's time to throw myself back into the familiar here at home. No one gave me a ribbon or a medal for making dinner, but I did get some hugs and kisses and drool on me as a reward, so there's that.

Last thing just because I feel like throwing it out there: Zach doesn't seem to know the word for "belt," but he handed me my belt this afternoon anyway and said, "Here, Mommy, put on this stripe."

Let's just call this one "Snuggle Mommy Cookie Moon"

In school Luke is being asked to talk about his family's traditions for the holidays. I sort of like to think we have traditions, but in a way we're still trying to figure it all out. What kind of gifts do we exchange; with whom, and when? When do we do Luke's birthday? Nothing is really set in stone; and in fact, we're winging it a lot of the time. But the good thing is, if it turns out we need to do things a little differently some years, we'll all be just fine.

Thanksgiving was a non-traditional case in point. It was nearly 80 degrees and we passed some time in the afternoon by going swimming (wait - that's actually a long-standing tradition) and Suzi had to pull off a last-minute dinner switcheroonie over to her house instead of Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house when Dick was sick. I'm thinking about bringing the whole operation over to our house next year, and Dave and I going to be tempted to start all kinds of new traditions (turducken, anyone?). In this picture you can see the smashingly elegant turkey place cards that Luke and I made for this year's dinner -- hey, it's a step up from hand-print turkeys, right?.

Also I have to admit that yes, we had our tree up on November 24, and yes, we had our gingerbread house (well, a train, really) done by November 27. I don't like to rush the season, but I do love to give the boys a chance to enjoy these things before we leave for back East, and secretly I love reading or working on the computer by the glow of the tree lights after the boys have gone to bed.

The day after Thanksgiving when we could "officially" start celebrating the holiday season, we went down to the usual parade route at the mall to see Santa, a marching band, some firetrucks, and a guy on stilts. Zach, who has always been somewhat of a costume guy, embraced the whole parade concept and wore the complimentary t-shirt with pride, while Luke pouted and grimaced and announced that the whole thing was completely boring. It's interesting, then, that the most exciting thing Luke did all week (in his mind) was to sit outside for hours, waiting for people to walk by our house, and try to sell them water and oranges. I tried to talk him out of it, given that business would be extremely slow, but he insisted and somehow managed to bring in around $15.

Saturday Dave closed out the holiday week (and gave me some free time) by taking the boys over to the Santa Monica pier for some games and rides. Do they look bigger? Because every time I see them in a picture I think I've blinked and they've gotten another year older.

Zach has been cooperating more at bedtime so we haven't had any visits out to the balcony to look at the stars lately. But these days when we're outside and we happen to see the moon, he's started calling it the "Snuggle Mommy Cookie Moon." And if that doesn't drown your morning pancakes in syrup, I don't know what will.

Plain and fancy

Every now and then Zach refuses to go quietly to sleep at night, despite our best parental efforts, and Luke is begging for some relief so he can get some shut-eye. So on nights like those, I carry Zach out to the balcony in back, he sits in my lap on a chair, and we look up at the stars and watch for planes. It's at this point that I always start thinking about the Hollywood Ending: In the Hollywood Ending to this story, Zach would curl up against my chest and drift slowly off to sleep, with his golden tufts of hair gently swaying in the nighttime breeze. In the real ending, I sit there listening to endless variations on, "What happened to the eyeball balloon? I think it's a little bit mushed. The eyeball balloon is mushed. What happened to the eyeball balloon? It got a little bit mushed," and so on, ad infinitum. I wonder exactly what the neighbors think is going on over at our house.

I've had the good fortune of spending two days in Luke's kindergarten classroom this week. The first time was for a Thanksgiving feast that they held for all three kindergarten classes. It was an amazing organizational effort - 60 five- and six-year-olds, dressed like Indians and Pilgrims, all seated outside at placemats, with individual meals cooked to order (You wanted mustard on your turkey sandwich? And no muffin? And extra cranberry sauce? Here you go.) Luke was a little disappointed that they mistook his order for a "plain" sandwich to mean plain turkey, as opposed to just plain bread, which is what he really wanted.

This week they are obviously focused on Thanksgiving, and the kids were instructed to bring in a picture of something they were thankful for. I asked Luke what one of the girls had brought in to share, and he told me somewhat dejectedly, "Oh, she just drew a picture of her family and her friends who are girls." What's wrong with that? I asked. "Well, she didn't even really get to know me, and she doesn't know how cool and fancy I am." We were in the middle of dinner at that point, and Dave and I nearly choked on the "cool and fancy" line, but now that I think about it, I love that he thinks of himself as cool and fancy.

This week also marked another holiday tradition: the annual downtown open house and pier lighting, complete with reindeer and free champagne. Mom and Dad have been here for the open house for the past few years, and we were sad not to have them with us this time, but Suzi and Bill offered to come and we gladly welcomed the company. Odd new traditions for this year included blingy light-up rings for everyone, (including moms), and semi-naked dancers at the premium denim store (where jeans cost $150/pair and up). Luke was mystified by the dancers ("Why would anyone want to dance naked in front of glass in front of people?") but the dancers were seemingly charmed by Zach. One of them stopped her dance to give him a little wave.

All was more or less right with the world until we came out with gingerbread cookies from the Skechers store. I made the mistake of breaking off the gingerbread man's foot to hand to Zach, and he completely flipped out ("Don't break the man! Put the foot back on!") to the point where he was completely inconsolable about the foot-less cookie. Not even hot chocolate or spiced cider could save the situation. I kept hoping for a Hollywood ending or even possibly a Larry David ending ("Look - here comes a man with Christmas-themed eyeball balloons!") but there was no such luck, except to get more cookies. Which was fine, except he didn't get to sleep too easily that night, and we found ourselves out on the balcony yet again.

Free-for-all

Luke's soccer game for today was canceled, and in any other situation, we would have booked a Palm Springs hotel room for the weekend without hesitation. But, um, there's this little thing about not having any money at the moment. Like not having any income coming in, which is what "income" is supposed to do. But we're not going to dwell on that now... there's plenty of time to worry about it at 3 or 4 in the morning, ha ha. Anyhow, we are fortunate to live in a place where there are plenty of free things to do, even if they're not the same as a Palm Springs weekend.

Last night we piled in the car and headed up the freeway, up the mountain, to the Getty Center, which normally has free admission but charges $15 for parking... except on Saturday nights when after 5 p.m. the parking is free too!!! Ka-ching! I knew the boys wouldn't be interested in art, but I knew they'd like the tram ride up the mountain, the spectacular ocean and city sunset views, and the "family fun" room with interactive art exhibits.

Luke and Zach took an instant liking to a replica of an 18th century French regal bed, which was creatively stocked with all varieties of bedtime books. Luke also had a good time mixing it up with a David Hockney painting where you can manipulate the images with magnets and mirrors.

Next there was an interactive version of a Martin Puryear sculpture that I just kind of walked by and didn't think twice about. But Dave directed Zach back over to it, and he was completely captivated. They had a whole mess of foam noodles, and you try to put them into the holes and connect them into a massive web. Clearly I was not thinking like a two-year-old boy. I mean, a whole mess of foam noodles? Kid utopia.


Luke is notoriously a little harder to please if Legos are not involved. The other day I asked him if he wanted to go to a concert with me and he asked, "Do they give out toys at the end?" But tonight he seemed a little more engaged, especially at an interactive version of the illuminated "Book of Hours" manuscript. If you click on the picture you can see what we wrote.

Today we drove up to the Palos Verdes Peninsula to recreate a little hike that I did when Mom and Dad were here, along the rocky cliffs near the new Terranea resort. It was probably a one-and-a-half mile loop, and Zach did it all without a stroller. At one point Dave was having a little reverie: "This is the most amazingly beautiful thing you've taken us to since... since... well, since last night," he told me.

But I don't want to whitewash the whole thing. While Luke had fun, he was also devastated when I somehow managed to lose the walking stick he had selected for me. And while Zach enjoyed stuffing every possible pebble into his pants pockets, he was pretty much done by the end (insert crankiness and whining here).

Or maybe it was just me who was tired and cranky by the end. It was a long, full weekend. But hey, we only spent $9.05 (the total cost of dinner for the boys at the Getty Cafe) so we are in good shape.

Excursions

This weekend we kept it light on planning because we knew Luke would be exhausted from the school week, a sleepover, and his soccer game, so we wanted to give him a chance to rest up. But Zach needs constant activity so that he is worn down enough to go to bed at a reasonable hour. So we split up: Dave with Zach and me with Luke.

Fortunately, Dave had the brilliant idea to take Zach down to see the Goodyear blimp at its landing spot. Unfortunately, the full experience of watching the blimp take off was so electrifying for Zach that he could not contain himself for the 24 hours following. He was too excited to take a nap yesterday, and I'm sad to say that he woke up at 1:30 am and was essentially awake for two more hours, not sad or sick, just wanting to talk more about the blimp. His little monologue went on and on about the blimp going up, and the pilot driving it, and the motor going 'brrrrm' and the blimp flying over the trees... and about how he and Daddy went to eat chicken and rice and mushrooms (they had Chinese food at Panda Express). Obviously it made a big impression. Oh, and I'll spare you the three-minute video of the blimp taking off that Dave and Zach have been watching ad nauseam.

Anyway, he's so excited about blimps these days that he keeps saying he wants to be a blimp for Halloween. (Next year?) He also told us the other day, "Christmas is coming... I want to be a blimp... for Halloween." He is king of the non-sequiturs if nothing else.

Brief aside: Dave and I are running out of ways to speak in code with each other, now that Luke essentially knows how to spell most words that refer to things he likes (c-a-n-d-y, etc.). So today we had talked about taking the boys to the pool at the gym, but when it was clear they were both too tired, Dave said to me, "So it looks like we should not plan a trip to the... natatorium."

Today I drove Luke 30 miles to Glendale, home of the nearest Lego store. When we finally got to the mall after driving for 45 minutes, he asked, "Do they still speak English here?"

I wanted to go to the Lego store because it's the best place to buy loose bricks for creative building. And to visit this store, you would never know that we were in a down economy. It was mobbed with kids, parents, grandparents, you name it, all in one long line to buy Legos.

Luke was so happy to be there that he was bouncing the whole way home. "You know mom, I think when I grow up I'm going to live with you."
"Well, what about if you get married and you want to have a house with your wife?"
"Well, I could move next door to you. Except - wait - Pat and Geraldine have their houses there. Maybe I could just build a new house in some extra space, like next to Geraldine's house."
"On the street?"
"Well, we could figure something out..."

That's my builder.

The whole fan-dam-ily

After days and weeks of pre-Halloween activities, all of the warm-up and planning finally came to a head on Saturday night. The gang included a witch, an escaped convict, a gray cat, and Commander Cody from Star Wars. Mom and Dad were there, although they could not be convinced to wear costumes; and Elizabeth was there, although she didn't stay for the good part (trick-or-treating).

The walk streets were a lively scene as usual and Zach was immediately swept up in the whole routine. "Truck or treat!" he would say gleefully at each house. (Best comment from one guy when he saw Dave walking Zach up to the door: "Nice costume, little guy. And it's great to see that your dad got out for the weekend.") Luke was a little worn out from a busy day of soccer, but he held out long enough to get a bucket full of candy and watch the guillotine reenactment outside one of the houses.

When we finally got home from trick-or-treating, Zach was buzzing around the house, and refused to settle in bed until he could get his hands on one more piece of candy. He finally fell asleep with his little fist curled around a Tootsie Roll. No big deal, I figured. I can just take it out of his hands once he's asleep. So when I heard him snoring I went to grab the candy, and - BAM! - his other arm popped up and slapped me away. (And the snoring continued). I had to wait another hour until he was in a much deeper sleep to finally pry the candy out of his hand.

Also, I'm experiencing something with Zach that I never once had with Luke: Zach wants to wear his costume again and again. (I don't think it ever even occurred to Luke to wear his costumes once Halloween was over). So the cat costume is a little worse for wear; I'm going to have to figure out how to wash it while keeping the feather-boa tail and ears intact.

Two quick Luke things: First, I was asking him about some of the other kids in his class. He volunteered that he likes a girl named Hiyasmin. "Oh yeah, she's a nice girl," I said. And Luke replied, "And she looks good too!"

Also, Luke has been learning about bats at school. The other night we drove by a donut shop with a big sign out in front that said, "Open All Night." Luke looked at the sign, then announced, "Those people who work at the donut shop? They must be nocturnal."