A New Year

I can’t believe it’s 2008 already. I don’t have a long list of resolutions per se, but there is a lot that I want to do this year. I have several books waiting for me like “The Art of Power” which was given to me by my friend Priscilla and two books by Pema Chodron “Start Where You Are” and “Don’t Bite the Hook” – all of which I look forward to reading. Naturally, I want to be more disciplined about exercise – that’s a perpetual resolution. I told my friend Peter the other day that I plan to practice meditation every day and take 15 minutes every afternoon to enjoy a cup of tea. He kind of laughed and said good luck with that. He’s right, I’m afraid. I’ll be really good about it for a week or so and then I’ll get busy at work and won’t take the time. Still, I’ll give it a shot. I also plan to write more on this here blog. I’ve been playing around on another hosting site, too – it seems to have more flexibility when posting pictures – so I’ll probably move over there. I’ll post the link when I’m ready to unveil the new site.

Tom, being the adventurous one, wants to do some fun things this year. He wants to go whale watching and go up to the mountains so we can do some sledding with the boys. We also talked last night about signing the boys up for soccer or Tball this summer. They may need it more after they start school since I’m not sure how much physical education they’ll get. In any case, they’re ready for it this year.

Dean’s resolutions are: he wants to go to the new park a lot and he wants to collect leaves.

Jack’s resolutions are: he wants to collect rocks and crystals. So he can kill the bad guys.

Here’s to a New Year!

 

Grumblers

After the boys opened a few presents yesterday morning, I spent the next 2 hours preparing sandwiches for the party. I managed a 5 minute shower and then packed the car while Tom was out buying balloons and party favors. We headed over to the park to meet the bounce house guy with 70+ cupcakes, bags of chips, cases of soda, water, juice, a helium tank, balloons, balls, vegetable platters, fruit plates, pinatas, and, of course, plates and napkins. I had my permit from the city, just in case. Mom was in charge of bathing the boys, getting them dressed and bringing them to the party.

We got to the party and there was the sign on Section 2 with my name on it. There was also the Persian mafia camped out on the best picnic tables in the area. Immediately, my blood starting boiling. I paid for this park. First, Tom and I just walked around the picnic tables, looking around and glancing over at the squatters every now and then. Eventually, we approached them and told them that we had rented the section and that they would need to leave. And then they just said oh, we’re so sorry, we didn’t know and they packed up their stuff and left.

Yeah, right.

Of course they argued! Despite the permit I held in my sweaty hand, despite the sign which clearly proclaimed that I, Kelsi …… had rented the section and that all picnic tables (all 30 of them) were for the exclusive use of my group from 7:00am until dusk. They still argued and puffed their cigarettes and the more they argued, the more my blood boiled and I so just wanted to call the park ranger or my friend the cop and kick them out. But, my husband is good cop and above all, wanted to quit wasting time on this and get our party set up. And, he’s generous so he told them that they could stay, even though we had exclusive right to the entire area, we would allow them to have their gathering but they had to move from the best picnic tables. They grumbled a bit and spoke to each other in a language I don’t understand, and then I said to Tom, so, should I call the city? And they looked at us and grumbled some more and then Tom said, well we need to set up our party so I’m going to move your stuff for you while you figure out what area you’re going to set up in. And they grumbled and puffed on their cigarettes and spoke their language and I got on the phone with my friend Peter and went over to my car and made a big show of being pissed off while I carried supplies over to the tables. One of the grumblers left in a smoky huff, one of the grumblers good-naturedly helped Tom, and the one with the red tattoo of a cross on his forehead glowered at us while he puffed away.

They eventually ended up at the far end of the picnic area which was just perfect for me.

It didn’t stop their bratty kids from trying to get in my bounce house while they cast sidelong glances in my direction. I didn’t have to worry about it, though.

The kids just told them they weren’t invited.

 

I’m Sorry

First of all, let me apologize for the half-hearted, lame post of yesterday. I know I disappointed my most loyal readers (Eddie) and for that, I am genuinely sorry.

Let me make it up to you today by showing you this:

That’s Daddy’s “Special Hat” lovingly made by Dean. In the last picture, Dean is singing to him. It goes a little something like this:

Daddy has a special hat
special hat
special hat
Daddy has a special hat
‘cuz he’s a special guy.

He wore the hat last night as he ate dinner and promised Dean that he would wear it today on the train. My kingdom for a picture of that!

Anyway, I have no excuse for last night’s lame post other than it got late and so I phoned it in – literally. And, I accidentally sent before I was done. So, what I meant to say last night was . . .
the boys are completely oblivious to the fact that their Grandma is at this very moment flying across the great plains and due to arrive around 4pm. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces!

I also wanted to mention our new tradition. I’ve mentioned before that Dean’s giving us a little run for our money. It’s all or nothing with him – he’s either 100% sweetness and light or 100% dark spirit. He’s committed, I’ll give him that. Lately, he’s been a little mean. Quick to anger and lash out without trying to resolve conflict by talking it through or asking for help. I realize some of this is due to his age and that, to some degree, this behavior is normal. However, he’s quick to use his fists and quick to call people names and that is completely unacceptable. So, I’ve really been focusing on getting him to use his words, giving him examples, explaining to him how hurtful it is to say “I don’t like you” instead of “I didn’t like what you did”. Still, it’s a constant battle. My adult brain just doesn’t understand why I have to keep repeating this over and over. It’s teaching me patience all right but he’s the one that needs the lesson most, I think. Back to our new tradition – last night at dinner I suggested that when we’re gathered together we should go around the table and say what we like about each person at the table. I went first.
Dean, I really like the way you sing.
Jack, I really like the way you whistle.

Then it was Dean’s turn.
Mom, I really like when you buy me yogurt.
Jack, I really like the way you share.

Then, Jack’s turn.
Mom, I really like when you buy me yogurt. (Original, that one)
Dean, I really like your stories.

So, you see what I bring to the table. Clearly, they’re only keeping me around for the dairy products. Some things never change.

 

Let the Games Begin!

Um Kelsi?
It’s the daycare.
Jack has a fever of 100.1 and Dean just threw up.

Happy Friday.

 

Sick Day

Jack is sick today so I’m staying home with him. He’s acting fine but he had a fever that started last night and lasted throughout the night. Dean is staying home, too but he’s not really sick. He was coughing a lot last night but that’s probably partly due to the Santa Ana winds that are whooshing through the valley.
Even illness manifests differently in these guys. For instance, Jack just acts very tired and sluggish when he’s sick. His cheeks flush slightly, his eyes darken and get glassy and he always complains that he has a headache. He loses his appetite (unless it’s dessert) and just wants to lay down. Last night, he only had a few bites of rice and some butterscotch pudding. Of course, during the day he was fine. He helped Tom trim the rosemary bush and played football with me.
Dean, on the other hand, wilts the second he doesn’t feel well. He can’t hide it at all. Heat radiates off him, he falls apart at every little thing, and he cries a lot.

I’m hoping that Jack’s fever stays away and Dean’s cough doesn’t get any worse so we can be back to our regular routine tomorrow.

Keep your fingers crossed.

 

False Alarm?

When I picked up the boys yesterday, Dean was happily playing with the girls – B, her twin sister S and their friend E. When we were in the car and about to drive away, the twin girls were walking to their car with their dad. I lowered the windows so the boys could say goodbye and the girls waved back and yelled “We love you!”.

Dean’s ego has been saved.

 

NaBloPoMo

That’s me committing to posting every single day in the month of November.

Every.Single.Day.

I promise you that by December you will be so sick of reading about what I ate for lunch that you’ll be begging me to never do this again.

Swear.

 

Oh the wailing

Last night Tom put the boys to bed. He readied their toothbrushes, read the books, did the requisite chatting, then said good-night.
Then the wailing started. Dean, over and over and over, “Daaaaaaddddeeeeeeee”. Repeat. Again.
Next, Jack comes out complaining because Dean called him a name. I told him that Dean was just cranky (totally bipolar last night) and he should just ignore him. He goes back in the room and then he starts wailing, “Moooommmmmmmeeeeeee”. Repeat. Again.
All together now. . .

So. I go in, they scramble to me as I climb onto the bed, each trying to get as close to me as possible and if full body contact isn’t an option, any body part will do. There are arms wrapped around my torse, legs wrapped around mine, heads buried into my chest. I don’t know where one child ends and the other begins.

Why are you so upset, I ask? Dean answers first. “I’m sad because I just don’t know why things have to change? Why does the moon have to come up every night? I just want it to be daytime”. Whoa – where to start? I tell him that night time is when his body rests so it can keep growing big and strong. Sleeping allows his brain to rest and grow so he’ll be smart and kind. I tell him that change is a wonderful thing and that each day is another opportunity for him to grow, to learn, and have fun and that he should enjoy every single day.

Then Jack starts crying. What’s wrong, I say? He tells me, “I just don’t want anyone to ever die.” Ohhhhkaaaay. Another doozy. I tell him as gently as possible, “Everyone dies. Dying is a part of life and there’s nothing we can do to change it. The best thing we can do is enjoy every moment of our lives, cherish our time with our loved ones, and have fun with our friends.”

We fell asleep. Jack with his head nuzzled against my chest, his arms around my waist, our legs intertwined and Dean spooning him with his head tucked into the back of Jack’s neck, his arm resting across Jack’s body with his hand lying on my hip.

Oh, I love them so much it hurts.