Still spinning

We did it - we pulled off one of the most logistically complex weekends in recent memory. Wanna get a little dizzy? Get a load of this:

Friday night: I scramble to get Fun Food Saturday cooking and story done, then drive Juana to the train station, and take Luke and Zach to Luke's soccer practice. Meanwhile Dave is in Portland and arrives home after the boys are in bed.
Saturday morning: 9 am soccer game; then the boys and I go the the harvest festival while Dave gets work done.
Saturday afternoon: Quick packing job; then we all head to the hotel in Long Beach. I watch the boys while Dave goes to the marathon expo; then I head back home to the 60's-themed parent party for our school (I'm working the front desk at the 5:45 shift). Dave takes the boys out to dinner and then to the Queen Mary. After the party is over, I drive all the way back down to Long Beach to stay in the hotel. (FYI - at left is the marathon logo, as rendered in sand.)
Sunday morning: Dave dashes out to the starting line at 7; I drag the boys to the 6-mile mark at 8 am; the boys and I go out to breakfast; we hop in the car and meet Dave at the 16- and 20- mile marks; we hop back in the car and get to the finish line; and finally we all congregate with Suzi and Bill at the finish line.
Sunday afternoon: Boys hop in the hot tub; we scramble to check out; then we all drive home.

Did you get that? Was it clear that Dave ran a marathon in there somewhere? It's been quite a weekend. My eyes are kind of doing that cartoon thing where they both spin around in different directions. In fact, if we were rendered in cartoon form, the boys and I would have tiny stars and squiggly lines hovering over our heads; and Dave would be hobbling around with little lines of pain and heat radiating out from his legs. All in good fun, of course.

Parenting FAIL

I suppose since I've been taking parenting classes for the past six years, and since the class gives us access to a parenting "coach," who has a library stocked full of reference books for just about every kind of problem, a person might assume that I never make any parenting mistakes.

It's OK, you can laugh. I'll wait.

Tap, tap.

No really, I'll wait until you're finished.

Do you need a tissue?

So anyway, my most recent mega fail came earlier this week, as I set out with the boys for a trip to the organic farm for pumpkin and vegetable picking. As we were leaving, Zach was having a little issue about who knows what and he wouldn't get his shoes, so I carried him to the car with socks on. Then when we were halfway out of town I realized I had never packed his shoes. Luckily, I have a pair of backup shoes in the trunk so I didn't worry. It was only once we got to the farm, 35 miles away, that I realized we hadn't used those shoes for at least six months, and they looked suspiciously small for his big feet. So I did what any under-prepared parent would do: I pushed them on. And when they wouldn't fit over the socks, I took off his shoes and pushed and pushed and squeezed them on his bare feet.

At some point after the wagon ride and the pumpkin-picking, he started to complain that his feet hurt. But we plodded along and finished the vegetable picking anyway. Then we finally got back to the car and I pried the shoes off his feet. He had big blisters at the back of each heel - and that was just the beginning of the pain. The blisters got worse throughout the day, and now they are ragged and ugly and painful. He won't let anyone near them even to apply a band-aid, so he's been reduced to wearing his Crocs back-less (like clogs) all week. Ouch. Apparel FAIL.

Anyhow, Luke loved the vegetable picking (and eating) and he practically had to be dragged away from the fields. We came home with an enormous bag filled with dirt-covered green onions, radishes, green beans, and carrots. He decided that we should have an giant vegetable feast for dinner. And while the two of us washed, scrubbed, and peeled, what was Zach doing? He got impatient waiting for the organic feast to come together, so he stripped off his clothes (not sure I understand that part), planted himself in front of the refrigerator, and started eating cold breakfast sausages. Child nutrition FAIL.

Oh, and after all that, I asked Zach what was his favorite part of being at the farm. "Watching the goats poop," was his response. Perspective FAIL.

On Wednesday morning we were all enjoying a nice morning at home, and at 8:10 Luke asked if he could take a bath. Why sure. Good idea. So now picture him at 8:14, lying in repose in the bath and lazily squirting water in the air, while I finish the lunches and then realize, hmm, that's funny: it's the sound of familiar kids walking out in front of our house. It's almost as if school was starting at ... 8:15!!!! Because it's Wednesday and school starts at 8:15, not 8:55, on Wednesdays!!!

The soundtrack to the next 30 seconds went something like this, "LUKE - GET OUT OF THE TUB! Getoutgetoutgetout!!! Clothes! Any clothes! Clothesclothesclothes! Now shoes! Shoes! And we're going! GOGOGOGOGOGO!!!" Scheduling FAIL. Preparedness FAIL.

I could go on and on like this except it would probably get a little monotonous. Let me just wrap up with a happier story about tonight: I had to drop something off at a neighbor's house, about three blocks away, and the boys were gearing up for post-dinner crankiness. As it started to get darker and darker I had an idea: haul out the glowsticks. So we marched down the street, each of us brandishing a light saber, waving it menacingly in front of trees and bushes that happened to cross our paths, and we made it safely and happily over to the neighbor's house. Glowsticks FTW.

About Face *updated with cuter pic

Announcing the new...the improved...the "it was there all along but we just couldn't see it" cuteness of Mr. Zach. ("Z for Zach," he calls himself, proud to be able to identify his favorite letter of the alphabet.) The long-haired plan just didn't work out. Dave really wanted to hold out for a few more months until it got attractive; I reached the end of my rope with it about four months ago, somewhere around the time that the sunscreen and sweat set in. Apparently I was not alone: His teacher at school said happily on Tuesday, "Hey - only two more days until the haircut!"

Dave is completely stretched to the limit. He has been training for a marathon, coaching a soccer team, maintaining his blog, picking up the household slack for me when I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and working triple-time to hold his Oregon campaign together until election day. Last Thursday there was a concert at the Hollywood Bowl that he was dying to go to; so on Tuesday night when I climbed into bed I whispered into his ear, "I think you should go on Thursday night." The next morning he looked at me and said, "Do you really think I should go to Oregon on Thursday night?" (What?!!?) It was then that we realized he truly needed a break, so he went ahead to the concert and had a great time.

Now I have a dirty little secret to share: Work is actually fun. My Tuesdays and Thursdays in the office are actually kind of cool in a way that I didn't experience before. People are appreciative of the work I am doing, and they pamper me with meals and treats. It is entirely different from being at home where small people are unappreciative and demand me to give them meals and treats. So it's a fun break, and working just on Tuesdays and Thursdays is the perfect balance. I wouldn't want to do any more at this point because I want to be home with the boys, but hey - it's nice to be appreciated every once in a while.

Oh, and another little thing - I ran the hometown 10K on Saturday. I have to say this is a town that really loves its fitness. There were 3,600 runners in the race, out of a town of 30,000 people, so almost one out of every eight people in town ran the race. I came in 137th out of a whopping 243 in my age group (women age 40-44). But who cares about the time, really? I had a good time and felt good doing it.

Later that day was Luke's soccer game and then the hometown fair, at which Luke and I worked in the booth for his school. As a thank you to the mom volunteers, the organizer set us up with 10-minute foot massages at a swanky local salon. So after our shift, I dragged Luke back downtown and he dutifully sat and waited while I got my toes deftly kneaded and rubbed. When it was over, I pried one eye open and gave the man a big thumbs up, after which he smiled and proceeded to work on my hands for a few more minutes. (This is an unrelated but gratuitously cute picture of Luke holding one of the dogs up for adoption at the fair.)

Later I brought Luke and Zach back to the fair and we got two more fish (that's right - more fish). They are two friendly little goldfish that the boys named Rocky and Joe. I have rarely seen Zach's tender, protective instinct come out as fiercely as it has with these fish. He took control of their little tank almost immediately, and very carefully carried it through the park and all the way to the car, then held it in his lap for the ride home. In this (pre-haircut) picture he appears to be giving his best Don Corleone look that says, "You wanna mess with these fish? You're gonna have to mess with me!" I told him how proud I was of how well he took care of the fish, and apparently this struck an important chord for him, because he has been asking me repeatedly to tell him again how well he took care of the fish.

So I guess it goes without saying that this was not meant to last. Joe the Fish apparently died last night and (shhh!) before the boys knew about it Dave ran off to the pet store to get a replacement. I still don't think either one of these fish has much time left on this earth, but miracles have been known to happen. Or who knows, maybe we'll adopt a dog to take their minds off the fish.

Deeply flawed

Every now and then we have one of those rare moments when the boys are filled with love for each other and just can't stop hugging and kissing. Usually those periods are followed by sharp, heavy blows to each other's bodies. But this time at least I caught the happy time on camera. This also marked the first time both boys went in the pool without me (I was sitting on the edge taking pictures) and I guess since Zach likes having something to hang on to, he decided that Luke was the next best thing.

Zach is absolutely loving his "new big kids school" a.k.a. the three-year-old class. He holds tightly onto his baby kitten throughout the day, yet each day he comes back reporting that he has been having a great time. I thought all was hunky-dory until the teacher told me last Thursday that he had bitten another kid. Biting? I guess I just associate biting with the worst of the worst - the kids with serious behavioral issues. But fortunately the teacher (who has known him since he was born) is gentle, philosophical, well-trained, and empathetic; and she's been working with and watching him closely. At home, Zach will suddenly declare out of the blue, "I will not bite or hit my friends anymore," or sometimes, "Teeth are for food!" and so far, no more biting. But every now and then when Zach says, "I love my friends at school!" Dave and I give each other a look and we each know that we're mentally finishing his sentence with our own private joke: "...because they're so delicious!"

Luke is also having a great time in school, and appears to be doing quite well. So far he is the only kid in the class to ace all of the spelling tests, and he's having fun with the reading and the math. But then his teacher told me yesterday, "He's a little bit of a mystery to me. Sometimes I am not sure if I'm getting through to him - he seems like he's daydreaming a lot, or just in his own little world. Is he like that at home?" Um, well, we do call him the Absent-Minded Professor. And just after that we got into the car to go pick up Zach, and Luke discovered once we got there that he only had his socks on and no shoes. "Where exactly did you think we were going when you got in the car?" I asked him, after he claimed not to have known. Theories abound as to this behavior: He's a dreamer; he's bored; his brain is roasted from the DS... Is there a problem? His teacher says we are going to watch it, but for now I'm going to come down on the side of "dreamer."

What I'm trying to say is that even though these boys may appear to be significantly flawed on the surface, I have a little secret, which is that they are in fact, absolutely perfect. To me. That's why even though there is plenty more to say on various educational, financial, medical, and developmental issues; I will just leave it at this, with a picture of two brothers mugging and hugging, and having a great time being perfect/not-perfect together.

Fixins

Not sure what to do while Dave is off on a long run? Never fear; I've found the recipe:

Boy Entertaining Stew (serves 2)

Bunch of sticks
Clump of rocks
Several heavy logs
Waterfall
2 ponds
15 hungry koi fish
1/2 cup fish pellets
5 shy turtles
10 vocal ducks
2 bottles of water
2 cups grapes
2 corn dog muffins
Preheat outdoors to 70 degrees. Add sunshine. Mix all ingredients together in large wilderness park, being careful to keep boys separated. Dispose of all trash in appropriate containers. Repeat.

Playthings

If you happened to visit our house any time between March and August, you may have noticed an item on our white board shopping list, written in kid handwriting: "VCRAC." It stands for Venator-Class Republic Attack Cruiser, a monumentally large Lego set, and Luke wrote its initials up there in the hopes that someone would slip up while buying groceries and one of those would just happen to wind up in the shopping basket.

Well, it didn't happen that way, but the fact that it's been up there illustrates just how long Luke has been yearning for this thing. At some point we got him focused on the idea of working toward a long-term goal, and for the last several months, he has been squirreling his money away. Dave set up a few ground rules for him for summer drink sales (limited number, you must pay for your own supplies, etc); and on Memorial Day, July 4th, Labor Day, and a few other summer weekends, Luke relentlessly hawked his cold drinks down at the beach for $1 apiece.

Five months and $119 later, he finally reached his goal. (If you think about five months, it's really kind of a long time for a little guy like him to save up for something - 6 percent of his life to be exact.) Dave even helped him find a VCRAC on eBay - for $10 less than the ToysRUs price - so he was especially proud to get a bargain.

Needless to say when it arrived in the mail yesterday it was a cause for much rejoicing. Luke invited his friend Shane over to help with the ceremonial unpacking and Lego organizing. We set up a table for him down in the office, and now he is deep in the building phase.

I don't have high hopes for the future of this creation, given the tendency of expensive Lego sets to get destroyed in our house. But I am incredibly impressed with how patient he was (for a 6-year-old) over such a long time to hold out for something really special. I just hope it lasts long enough for him to enjoy it while he saves up for the next big thing.

Zach is on an involuntary leave from school, and it's been a real pain in the... Well, let's put it this way: Zach had an odd rash on his bottom. When they cultured it they found that it was MRSA, so he was effectively banned from preschool until it heals. I know he's enjoyed his time at home, but I also know that the infection has been incredibly painful, based on its location, and based on some of the things the doctor had to do to try to cure it. Oh, and he has an ear infection to boot. So even though it's been massively inconvenient (and expensive) for us to manage this while I attempt to start a new job, I have nothing but sympathy for the little guy. He's probably been in extreme misery.

On the first day it was diagnosed, after an excruciating doctor's visit, I took him to the CVS and while we waited for a prescription I told him he could pick out a toy. The first one he picked out was $24.99 and I had to backpedal, "I didn't mean that kind of toy." After several rounds of negotiations, he finally settled on a smaller toy that was $18.99, and by that point I was worn down enough to say OK. But just as we were about to check out, he saw a very small kitten in a stuffed animal display. He tossed aside the other toy, grabbed the kitten (only $3.99 - woo-hoo!) and literally has not put the kitten down since.

Considering that he has, oh, I don't know, about a thousand other stuffed animals, I don't know why the kitten has such a hold on him. (On Monday at the wilderness park, Zach fed the fish, climbed over rocks and logs, and dangled his feet in an ice-cold stream, all with the kitten tucked safely under his arm.) I think there must be something about the uncertainty of pain or illness where you look for whatever reliable comfort you can find, and in the kitten he has found a small, portable comfort zone. Come to think of it, I should have bought three or four of them as backup for the day when he inevitably loses the kitten or leaves it at the edge of a stream somewhere. I've learned that when a boy has his mind set on a certain toy, nothing else will do.

Round Two

The other day we were at a park and while Luke was playing soccer with his teammates, Zach somehow got clobbered with the ball. There was lots of crying and a tiny bit of blood on his lip, so we took him to our friend's house next door, where she made a little ice pack and held it gently up against his mouth. He sat there quietly with tears pooled in his eyes, until she lifted off the ice pack. Then he wiped away a tear, turned his little face up to her and said, "Can I see your water heater?"

Ladies and gentlemen (or "Ladies and mans," as Zach might say), we have another hazard light situation on our hands.

I think we're going to have to blame my dad for starting this one. He got Zach fascinated with the whole idea of having two water heaters in the basement. I think there's also the attraction of water going through pipes, and a plumbing system that is somehow related to the toilet. Exhibit A: Zach needed to visit the water heater several times during a visit to Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house. Exhibit B: When he's going to sleep, he likes to run through the list of neighbors to talk about where their water heaters are located. Exhibit C: When I was reading "Old MacDonald Had A Farm" to him this morning, he was concerned because the illustration of the farmhouse did not include a picture of the water heater. Exhibit D (pictured): We were at the beautiful beachfront in Santa Barbara and instead of checking out the scenery he wanted to stay and listen to the water rushing through the pipes. (OK, Luke did too, but they're boys; what can I say?) The other day Luke was teasing him and told him that we had "water heater lollipops" for dessert, but now the problem is that Zach is continuing to look for them.

Oh, and Luke started first grade last week. How does he like it? Who are his new friends? How does he like his teacher? What do they do during the day? I don't really have good answers to these questions. After school he runs off with his friends and he hasn't spent much time on reflection. (This is basically a good thing, by the way, even though I'm dying for more information.) Also Zach started in the 3-year-old class, and two out of 10 boys are named Cassius. Go figure.

The other day I cleared off Luke's shelf in his bedroom, and besides finding a dollar and a months-old peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I found his long-lost magic wand. So on Sunday night at Grandma Bobbie and Granddad's house, Luke decided to put on a magic show. More accurately, he decided to "manage" a magic show, which involved directing his assistants to fall asleep or stop talking at the flick of a wand.

Luke was getting so much attention and applause that Zach decided to tell a story of his own. The story ended with, "...and then he fell into the...toilet!" When the story was met with awkward silence, Zach was undaunted. "Laugh about that!" he commanded the group. Another manager in the house. Great.

Summer flashback

I can't believe summer is "over" (not that it was ever really here; today it's in the low 60s). But fortunately, it lives on through pictures and I'm so glad my dad just sent me these from our trip back to the sweltering East Coast last month. You'll notice in the first one we have Zach gleefully spraying the older boys with the hose (and they were surprisingly compliant about letting him be in control of it).

Now their plan comes into full view in the second picture, where they bend a kink into the hose. Note the classically befuddled look on Zach's face. As my dad observes, staring into the end of a non-working hose is one of the classic setups from a slapstick '30s or '40s comedy. This is one of those few pictures that makes me laugh every single time I look at it. Priceless.

Martha freakin' Stewart

...is what you might have called me, if I had actually managed to hang this wreath on the first day of summer rather than the last.

Instead, I'm just the crazy neighborhood lady who makes these little seasonally inappropriate crafty things and hangs them on her door for no apparent reason. I guess that's what old age does to you.

Windows

"This was meant to be," I told Dave. It was two days before our planned escape to Santa Barbara, and I had just attempted to secure the house we wanted to rent, only to learn it had been booked an hour earlier. My bad. So instead I scrambled to find us another place to stay, and we sort of stumbled upon this house that didn't have any reviews and hardly had any pictures. But on paper it sounded good, and the lady was willing to give us a last-minute deal, so...OK.

Of course Santa Barbara is amazing, and of course you can't go wrong there, but the house turned out to be this hidden little jewel that was the absolute highlight of the trip. It was up in the canyon, nestled on top of a steep, lushly terraced lot. The house was built in 1902 - as an artist's studio? - and the main room had the most beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows I've ever seen, with a view out to the ocean on one side and a view of the private lush backyard on the other.

There was a rope swing on a giant Mission fig tree in the front yard, and in the back there were two lounge chairs and an umbrella for total relaxation. It was absolutely an indoor/outdoor house (when we got there, all the doors and windows were open) - the most surprising aspect being that the refrigerator was not in the kitchen but on the deck outside. As weird as that sounds, the door to the kitchen was always open, and we ate outside, so it just made perfect sense.

Dave and I slept in the master bedroom (probably a later addition to the house) with not one but two doors leading outside (much to Dave's delight) and the boys slept in one big bed in the original bedroom, which also came with an enormous built-in cabinet filled with toys. Luke enjoyed looking for lizards in the backyard; Zach's favorite part was (of course) the water heater.

Oh, sure, we were tourists. We embraced our inner dorkiness and rented a surrey (without a fringe on top) and rode up and down the bike path at the water's edge. We went to three of the city's most amazing parks, one of which was featuring an international dance festival. And of course we went to the mission, although the chief attractions for the boys were the cemetery (Luke) and a fountain that just happened to have a dead fish in it (Zach). Zach dutifully clambered up the stairs to the main church, sat quietly as we reflected at the artwork, and then when we told him it was time to go, made a beeline back down the stairs and across the courtyard to go look at the dead fish again.

For Dave, one of the highlights had to be our trip to La Super-Rica Taqueria, a hole-in-the-wall place with no sign that is a Mexican foodie's delight, and a favorite of Julia Childs' when she lived in Santa Barbara. We took the insiders' advice and ordered as many dishes as we could contemplate eating (ask me for a rundown), then settled down for a long and satisfying lunch. We were planning on having leftovers, but for some reason (!) we barely had anything left to show for it at the end.

As for me, I was just happy being at the house and soaking it all in. Oh, well, there is one other thing: As we were leaving town, Dave offered to let me stop at the outlet stores while he and the boys played at the beach. So, yeah, THAT was cool. "What a beautiful town this is," said Zach. You got that right, kiddo.

Home

Last weekend (at a birthday party for the loveliest 90-year-old we know) we introduced my parents as being "from New Jersey" and one friend's response was, "And you haven't convinced them to move out yet?" Sigh. No, not yet. But we're chipping away very slowly at their resistance by offering cute kids who adore them, the good company of West Coast family, and consistently perfect beach weather (with no humidity or mosquitoes).

On the last night they were in town I came downstairs at 9 pm, which is usually the point at which my mom is tucked away in bed, and made a radical suggestion that we go out for a walk. To my surprise, they both agreed. We walked down along the beach all the way to the pier, and, lit by the full moon, it was the best walk we'd had all week.

Now that they're gone, we're in a strange sort of limbo: It's the end of the summer and all of the associated fun stuff is essentially over, but it's not quite time to start school yet so we aren't settled into any routines. With mom and dad gone, I'd like to say the house is quieter, but it's actually noisier now that there are fewer things and people distracting the boys from bickering with each other. Yesterday morning I had to separate the boys because (no joke) they were fighting over an adhesive "No Solicitors" sign - the kind you stick to a door in an office.

Zach is, as I've mentioned several times, is thrilled to be home. But certain elements of his time back East definitely captured his imagination. The other morning he came up to me and said, "Mom, when they built this house they forgot to put in the attic. And they forgot to put in a basement." So now we know what Zach wants for his birthday: at least one more level on the house. Got that, Dave?

Last in case anyone doubted that Luke is the smartest kid in town, get a load of this: Dave has started giving him random numbers to add in his head (example: What is the total of the ages of everyone in our family?) and Luke gets it right every time. With two-digit numbers! With digits you have to carry! Last night at dinner Dave said to him, "How about two of my lucky numbers - What's 47 plus 47?" Without missing a beat, Luke declared, "94!" and then Dave said, "You know, I never realized that's our house number too." That's right, we live at double 47. Somehow I knew we were in the right place.

Vitamins D and Z

"Once a-POWN a time," Zach's story begins, "I was a little piece of sand. And I got stuck in someone's shoe. And they walked all the way home and took off the shoe and took a shower. And I went down the drain and through the pipes to the water heater. And then I came back up into the...toilet."

Has there ever been a kid happier to see his dad?

Nested

At the end of the day, when I ask Luke what was his favorite part of the day, the answer has started to become predictable: "Everything."

When Luke feels something, he feels it deeply: his love for his DS, Legos, and Star Wars; his hatred of bug bites, wild amusement rides, and any weather that requires wearing something heavier than a t-shirt and shorts. At dinner time last night, I asked him, harmlessly enough, whether he wanted lasagna or macaroni and cheese. "What?!?!?!" was his response, as he doubled over in horror. He was so completely appalled it was as if I had asked him whether he'd prefer pig knuckles or grubs.

But here's why I can't get enough of him: If you can channel that passion, it's a beautiful thing. Yesterday at the adventure farm, he fell in love with the giant slingshot. Then he found out that if you hit a target (a large cutout of a water bottle or Coke bottle) that was about 30 yards away, you'd win a prize. Of course he didn't care much about the prize (a Coke keychain) but he was determined to win it. He shot tennis ball after tennis ball through the slingshot, extending his range and refining his aim. "I am going to win this, Mom," he declared. Even the teenager monitoring the slingshot game was smiling and shaking his head.

Soon enough it was time to move on to the next attraction. But before we left, I told him he could do one more game, so he chose to do the slingshot again. And this time, he nailed it. He marched back to me, grinning from ear to ear, keychain in hand.

All of this is not to say that Zach hasn't been enjoying himself too. What's not to like about staying over in a red caboose? With not one but two sets of bunk beds? After we checked in, Zach spent the first 30 minutes running back and forth singing, "We're in a caboo-oose, we're in a caboo-oose!" But it surprised even me how much Luke enjoyed it. He pretty much made himself comfortable on the top bunk, declared it the coziest place he'd ever been, and stayed in his little nook for as long as he could, right up until checkout.

I'm also pleased to see Luke's confidence picking up as he branches out to do new things. Zach didn't want to climb up the hundred stairs to the top of the "watchtower" (grain silo) but Luke was more than happy - in fact, he led the way (see pic above). At the pick-your-own farm earlier today we learned we could get pears, so Luke grabbed the pear-picking stick and got to work. Then we weren't sure if the raspberries were plentiful or good enough for picking, but Luke assured us he'd find a way. He led the charge, green cardboard picking-pints in hand, confidently down row after row of raspberry bushes, until he had collected a beautiful pint-ful.

The other thing about Luke that I don't quite know how to explain is his newfound fascination with - and knowledge of - Harry Potter. Apparently his DS game follows the book in close detail, because when I started reading the first book with him this week, he knew exactly what was coming at every turn, down to the characters' names. (When we were reading about Harry Potter meeting some people at a pub, Luke asks, "Is this where he meets Professor Quirrell - the one who stutters?" And sure enough, on the next page, he meets Professor Quirrell: "N-n-nice to m-m-m-meet you, H-h-h-harry.") I thought I'd tap into this a little bit so I asked Luke if maybe for his birthday this year he'd like to have a wizard-themed birthday party. I thought he was going to fly out of his chair right there: "AWESOME!!!!"

Last but not least, the boys and I have a little bit of a sentimental connection to baby chicks because of a game I've played with both of them since they were very small. That's why one of the chief attractions of the adventure farm - a little coop with about 20 baby chicks - was a great thing for them. They picked them up, not especially gently, but well enough to do the job, and were captivated for a long time, stroking and talking to them softly. We learned that the chicks squawk and yelp if you let their legs dangle, but if you cup your hand underneath them and make a little nest-type thing for them to curl up in, they'll stay with you as long as you like. Good to know.

Z Man

There is SO much to say about Luke, but today it's all about Zach. Like most three-year-olds, Zach is at one moment unbelievably cute and at the next moment incorrigible. In the past week he has simultaneously added joy to this trip and made it incredibly difficult. But happily for the rest of us he is a sucker for the charms of my dad, who managed to capture him in a few rare, silly, unguarded moments in front of the camera. Here he is holding his new little cat named Balloony (that's "Balloon" with a "y" at the end; not to be confused with "baloney").

Zach's new thing is all toilet talk, all the time. He doesn't really talk about gross stuff, he just likes to insert "toilet" into just about any point in the conversation because that's apparently high comedy among the three-year-old set. The other day when he woke up from his nap he was just lying there in bed for a while so I asked him what he was thinking about. "Oh, I'm just thinking about that toilet machine," he said, pointing to the air conditioner. You get the picture.

Today on the way home from the pool Zach started making up some songs using only the word "toilet" and Luke begged him to stop, so Zach obligingly came up with something new (sung to the tune of "Twinkle Twinkle"):

Chicken, chicken in the pool
Chicken, chicken in the house
Chicken, chicken in the tree
Chicken, chicken in the car
Chicken, chicken in the mailbox
Chicken, chicken in the...toilet.

Even though Luke and I didn't want to laugh, we couldn't help ourselves, in part because the comic timing was perfect.

We took Zach to his first movie today ("Cats and Dogs") and he sat through the whole thing (on my lap) without getting up; in part because I kept giving him some M&Ms every few minutes. When we got home he and I brought the old game of Ker-Plunk down from the attic and he had a great time playing with me and Luke and Dad. Then after everyone else had enough, he played with it alone, methodically putting the sticks back in the holes and plopping the marbles in before letting it all loose again. When he was finally ready to stop, he put the whole thing away in the box and carried it around the house with great care so as not to lose a single piece.

Is it worth talking about the times that make us miserable? No, it's not. Anyone who has ever known a 3-year-old can probably imagine. Last night at Rosemary and Fred's house he accidentally knocked over a table with few plants and a china saucer, which smashed to pieces. Fortunately, they are professional grandparents who have more patience and loving indulgence than we could ever ask for. Zach must have been feeling guilty about it on some level because on the way out the door he told Fred he would come back over to help him fix it. And then he said thank you to Rosemary. Except he called her Fred.

We *Skype* You, Dave!

Four Kids and a Dog

Pick a Peck

I am brave, I am confident... I have successfully flown across the country, solo, with two small boys. The worst things I had feared (Zach flipping out when he finally learned Dave really wasn't coming with us; having all three of us in the plane bathroom at the same time) never happened. It was a very calm, mellow flight. In fact, I had so completely overcompensated with goodies and activities that we never even made it through the first few layers of stuff in my backpack. It "helped" (even though that's not quite the right word) that there was a two-year-old sitting behind us who was having a very hard time, even with one parent on either side of him. Compared to him, my boys looked like veteran fliers.

Now we are in hot and sticky New Jersey, and today was basically a day of rest except for the traditional trip to the organic pick-your-own farm. Today's haul included blackberries, tomatoes, eggplant, peppers, and a few mosquito bites. Here are the boys chilling out in the shade at the farmhouse after picking, and although they were certainly hot, I think the tiredness was at least a little bit theatrical.

Zach had a great time picking (and eating) blackberries and then he was pretty much finished. But Luke had the most stamina of anyone, and he was rewarded at the end of the trip with a row full of the sweetest cherry tomatoes we've ever had. Is it possible he likes them even more than the M & Ms he devoured on the airplane yesterday? He sure ate enough. Afterwards I showed him how delectable it is to sink your teeth into the bigger tomatoes - still warm from the sun - just like an apple, and he wholeheartedly agreed.

One thing I love about going to the farm is seeing produce that grows in all sorts of unusual shapes and sizes and doesn't quite fit the "mold." That's why I asked Dad to take a picture of this pyramid-shaped eggplant for me. It's so cool-looking I almost don't want to eat it... but I will.



Every afternoon at 2 pm, and every evening at 7 pm, a train rolls by down the street from where my parents live. Tonight we managed to walk down there in time to see the whole train, much to Zach's delight. After the train had passed he wanted to stand there for a long time, studying the tracks, not getting too close, but taking in every detail. We are looking forward to 2 pm tomorrow.