Indeed.

Most ill-advised homework assignment ever given to a bunch of six-year-olds:

"What rhymes with heart? Write the words inside heart shapes."

Pick Your Plague

Just for kicks, let's count how many outfits I had on yesterday:

1) Nice dress for breakfast at the hotel club room;
2) Desert hiking clothes, which Zach then threw up on, leading to
3) Desert hiking clothes #2; which I was wearing when Zach fell in a mud puddle and then wanted to be carried, so I changed into;
4) Swimsuit and cover-up for swimming at the hotel pool, and then as we got ready to check out I changed into;
5) Long pants, sweat jacket and boots for lunch and drive up the mountain; changing when we got there into
6) Extra sweat jacket, snow boots, and snow gloves for impromptu snowball fight at the top of the mountain; and then back into
7) Regular boots and one sweat jacket for the drive home to the beach, after which Zach threw up on me again so I changed into
8) Pajamas and a sweatshirt, which Zach threw up on again, so I finally changed into
9) One last set of pajamas.

Still with me? It seems that our house has been visited upon by several plagues. The first plague of Lice was discussed earlier and I don't think there's much more to say about that. Throughout the week we battled Excessive Mucus and Diarrhea. Yesterday we were up against Vomiting and Car Stuck On Check Engine Light. Have I missed any? Can someone let me know what might come next so I can be prepared for, say, a whole lotta frogs?

(Plague-related aside: When Dave first met me he was absolutely horrified to learn that my parents lived on Locust Street. He had no idea it was also the name of a tree.)

Just to be clear: Yes, I love the fact that we were able to take a (free - woo-hoo, Hyatt points!) trip to the desert mid-week in February. I love the fact that we can hike in the desert and then head straight up the mountain and play in the snow two hours later. I love being with Dave and the boys. I just wish the whole trip had been a little less vomit-y.

While we were sitting at the restaurant on Wednesday night I started getting a little weepy and nostalgic about times past in Palm Springs....when days would be spent blissing out at the pool, getting spa treatments, checking out new restaurants, or shopping for hours at the outlets; and nighttime would mean a trip to the casino or just hanging out in the hot tub and staring up at the stars.

These days we find ourselves on a quest to discover a whole new current of desert life. We'll choose a hotel based not on whether we can walk to the downtown restaurants, but on what kind of water slide they have. We've been scouting out the local miniature golf courses. We have to go to restaurants with kids' menus, or at least restaurants where it's acceptable to bring your toys and books along. There's no outlet shopping, for now, and no casino time, but there's really no point at the moment because it's not much fun without any money to spend. But even despite all of this, I can't imagine going to the desert without the boys - I'd miss them too much, and besides, I'd have nothing to complain about.

I continue to be astonished about how much Zach remembers from the last time we were in the desert (nine months ago). As soon as we got to down to the pools he made a beeline across the pool complex to get to the "hot" pool. He and I are alike in that we love love love sitting around in hot hot hot water. Also as soon as we parked at the Mexican restaurant he announced, "This restaurant has candy in front!" and went straight for the candy bowl in the lobby (and visited it again numerous times throughout the meal).

Now here's something even more curious (although perhaps only interesting to me): He slept for most of the drive up the mountain. When he woke up, we told him that we were going to stop at a little town and then go play in the snow. He thought about this and then said, "I'd like to get a nice donut with blue frosting and sprinkles." Huh!?!? Then I remembered that before we went up to the snowy mountain last February (a whole year ago), we stopped at a little donut shop and he got a donut with blue frosting and sprinkles. It's amazing what memories make lasting imprints on a mind.

Luke has had a banner week for his week off. He went to a day camp on Monday (theme day: puppy party) and he had such a great time he begged begged begged to go back on Tuesday. So we sent him off in the morning before we left for the desert. I wasn't thrilled about spending the extra money, but I was happy to see him happy about anything that did not involve new Lego sets. (Activities included watching The Clone Wars, playing Wii bowling, doing spin art, playing with the aforementioned puppies, being entertained by a magician -- in other words, just a typical day at Joe's house.)

I don't think I can match that level of excitement today, but the boys and I are just going to chill out while Dave goes for his run, maybe go on a post-rain worm hunt, and do the last round of lice shampoo. And while I'm at it, I think I'd better check to see if anyone has developed any boils.

All Creatures Great and Small

We had a week of happy dog-lovin', thanks to Elizabeth's visiting dog Casey, who came over to be with us in the afternoons this week. Casey is a gentle giant, a 100-pound beast of a dog who literally would not hurt a flea. Even when boys stumble and fall on her head while she is sleeping (ahem), her response is to open one eye, look around, say the dog equivalent of "eh?" and then go back to sleep.

When we first put Casey in the car to bring her back to the house Luke was literally shaking with excitement. I thought he was going to cry. And who knew he would be such a good dog walker? Walking a dog allows him to be the boss he always wants to be. But he's gentle and encouraging, and it really seems to bring out the best in him.

Zach loves Casey too, but in a different way. Casey just seems to fuel his excitement for the day, and gets him running around in circles. When Casey first came upstairs, the boys were set on creating a dog bed for her out of pillows, and Zach enthusiastically contributed his blankets and all of his stuffed animals to the collection. And who knew it would be harder to walk a two-year-old than a dog? Casey will pretty much go wherever you want her to go, but Zach will gleefully run off without a care, giving the rest of us a minor heart attack. Luckily Casey will pretty much just hang out in one place if you let go of her leash to chase down your two-year-old.

And then... beach day. What a great afternoon we had, hiking down to the dog beach, collecting rocks, throwing sticks to Casey, and watching Casey make friends with an impossibly small, fluffy Maltese.

Later, after we had said goodbye to Casey, I was washing Luke's hair and I noticed all sorts of creatures living in there. I spent nearly an hour combing and plucking them out (and if this makes you feel itchy, imagine how I felt). I assumed they were fleas left over from a day at the dog beach, but Dave saved one and studied various pictures on the web, and shortly after we finally got Luke to bed, told me, "I hate to break this to you, but..." Yep. Head lice.

So today, Valentine's Day, the blissfully lice-free Dave and Zach are off at a train show, while Luke and I are doing loads of laundry and getting lice shampoo. I don't think I have any, but I feel just itchy enough that I'm ready to jump in a vat of lye if that's what it takes to get rid of this feeling. De-lousing: It's every woman's fantasy Valentine's Day, and I'm living the dream.

Bath/Mud/Bath

Ahhh, a rainy Southern California winter morning. Just me and the boys, hanging out, cozy inside while Dave was on a training run. Toys, TV, art projects, science experiments...The boys were such happy campers they decided it would be fun to have a shower/bath together. So they got all shampooed, conditioned, and squeaky clean; then we put on fresh dry clothes so we could go on a few errands.

And then, we stepped outside, and looky here - the rain had stopped. "I want to go stomp in some mud puddles," Zach announced. And that marked the official end of anything clean that happened today.

Zach got so completely wet and muddy... How muddy did he get? He got so muddy that he actually halted the peewee football practice that was going on at the field. "Look how muddy that little guy is!" declared one boy, and the others all stopped in their tracks to stare. (That's right, a bunch of nine-year-olds playing football on the field after the rain stopped to look at Zach because he was such a sight.)

After we got home Zach decided to lie down in the driveway - note the puddle of water beginning to form around his right boot - possibly because the sheer weight of water was dragging him down. And yes, that's Luke's nice new oatmeal-colored shirt from Grandma Joan, instantly transformed into... er... cinnamon raisin oatmeal?

This afternoon (after we got clean again) while Dave wrapped up some t-ball business, Elizabeth and I took the boys out for frozen yogurt. Chocolate yogurt. Which means you-know-who got you-know-what all over his you-know-what again. Sigh. My washing machine never stops.

Last night at the arcade Luke won a little packet of capsules that you submerge in water and they expand to turn into safari animal sponges. We had a great time watching them all grow according to the pictures on the back of the package - cheetah, rhino, zebra, elephant, wildebeest, giraffe, monkey, and then... what? One of them came out looking like no animal I've ever seen; like a camel with a thyroid condition. We are still scratching our heads over that one, though it gave us some good chuckles.

And now for today's moment of Zen: While we were watching the capsules expand in the water, Zach started to make a swishing noise with his mouth. "Zach, did you drink some of the water? Did you? Did you?" I asked him. He didn't answer at first, then he looked at me solemnly and said, "Mom, we are flashlights."

(But no, he didn't drink it.)

Par

Stop me if you've heard this already: Zach is beginning to enjoy "grown-up" time in the bathroom. He strips himself down, completely naked, then stands in front of the toilet for as long as 30 minutes at a time, waiting for something to happen. I'm not sure if anything happens or not because he flushes multiple times while standing there, so who knows? The point is that he has the intent, the determination, and the enthusiasm to do what he needs to do. (That little strangling noise you hear is the figurative sound of Teenaged Zach reading this and dying from complete and utter mortification.)

Luke is quite the little personality study. Here is a guy, for instance, who has only a marginal amount of enthusiasm for riding a bike, but who would happily spend an hour taking apart and putting back together his bike bell. So you can understand why I seized the opportunity to sign him up for an after-school science enrichment class. But who knew - the class is centered around a "detective" theme and for this week they asked the kids to dress up in spy gear (trench coats, sunglasses, hats, etc.). Few things are more abhorrent to Luke than the idea of dressing up in a costume (except for one night of the year on Halloween when large amounts of candy are involved) or performing any kind of unnecessary clothing change, so he begged me to switch him to a golf class that is running at the same time.

Golf? Yeah, turns out he got a little intrigued when he heard Dave make some reference to Tiger Woods having made a billion dollars playing golf. A million, a billion - soon you're talking about a lot of Lego sets. He also played a round of miniature golf last week, and it convinced him that it was definitely a sport worth pursuing. So he did the little golf class today, reported back that it was pretty good, and is preparing for his new career. Tonight when I was tucking him in I told him that my grandmother loved golf and one time won a special prize for getting a hole in one. What was the special prize, he wanted to know. Ummmm.... Anyone? I think it was a free meal at the clubhouse. So, OK, even if there's not a billion dollars, there might someday be a free lunch in it for him.

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.