Sunday, November 15, 2009

warm. . .

yellow. . .

beautiful November moments. . .

and memories. . .

Loving this warm weather. . . and think maybe God has had a little hand in it. . .maybe because I have no winter coat to fit over this big baby belly. . .
.



Last weekend, we spent Sunday outdoors. . .all day long. . .




Sam built a wonderful fire. . . perfect for a Mama to sit by, warming my fingers and toes. . . and begin a Kringle hat for the baby. . .




Followed by adventures in the woods. . .



and playing in great big piles of leaves. . .



piling them into the fort, and then sliding into them with loud, giddy boy laughter. . .

dogs running a-muck. . . growling, biting, barking and jumping. . .
happy to be outdoors and free. . .

smores. . . warm and gooey, and oh-so-good. . . .


and watching the geese flock, perfecting their V's for their autumn journey. . . .

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

our mischief maker

It seems, that when I'm pregnant, we have a little prankster who shows likes to play tricks with the Mama and the Dada. . .

While pregnant with Jack, I remember waking up in the middle of the night and feeling water dripping from the ceiling onto my hand. Actual water. I remember wiping it off with a kleenax and waking up Sam. In a panic he ran up to the attic (afraid the roof was leaking), 2 amish, with a flashlight. . .only to find nothing. And now, forever, I am the tortured about the phantom water drips.

And some other little things too. . . living room curtains moving (like the dogs walked passed and moved them. . .but, no dogs around). . . bathroom shower curtain blowing in the non-existant breeze. . . I heard a voice call Daddy! after Sam left for work one morning (that one freaked me out pretty good. . .and I worried all day long that he was going to be in a car accident).

The night we brought Jack home from the hospital, Sam sat straight up in bed in the middle of the night. I awoke right away. Sam went over to Jack's room and came back. He said he had heard toys being played with in his room. . . We attributed it to someone welcoming our little Jack into his new home.

With Luke, it was my keys. They went missing from their little key hanging spot just as we were leaving to go somewhere (separately). I had car keys, but no house key, so we had to stop by Hepler's to get a quick remake. Searched for them everywhere before we left, but could not find them. When I arrived home, I found them laying in the middle of the entry way. . .right in the middle of the floor (which we would have obviously seen before we left).

This time around, he's gotten us twice. First time around it Jack's new columbia sandals. A week after we bought them, one disappeared. Nowhere to be found. For a whole month I looked for that missing guy. High and low. And it was nowhere. It was a day or two before vacation, and I was peeved to think I had to go out and buy him a new pair of sandals. I sent Jack up to his room to look one more time. And down he came with it, minutes later. You found it! I was so excited. He said that he found it on the bench in the upstairs hallway. I told him to thank Dada for finding it (because obviously Sam had found it somewhere and put it there for him). . . Except Sam hadn't found it. It was just there. . .

Our latest (and most likely, last) prank happened this weekend. Sam and Jack were playing the Wii (Chicken Shoot, their new favorite game). I sat down next to Luke to do some sewing, and noticed the tv remote on the couch next to me. We're always losing those things. . .so I placed it on top of the tv (where it's supposed to be). I remember crossing the room in front of Sam (playing games) to put it there. And then I sat back down to sew. Took the boys to bed 9ish. . . and came back down with Sam to shut down the house for the night.

Did you move the remote? he asks me. Yes, I put it on the tv while you guys were playing. No, after that. Did you move the remote? It's not here. Not here. I put it there hours ago.

But, it wasn't there. It was gone.

And I knew immediately it was our little prankster. And then thought we would be stuck for a month not being able to use our tv, because it would be stuck in "gaming mode" rather than cable tv. However, after about 15 minutes of searching all the couch cushions, under furniture, on the mantle, in the kitchen. . .Sam found it on the dining room table. And I smiled. Our little prankster, trying to make us laugh. . .

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Halloween. . .


A much anticipated holiday around here. . .Jack thinks, equalling the joys of Christmas and birthdays, is the joy of getting candy on Halloween.

Jack wanted to be a Jedi this year. . .at first. . .until Mama bought all the costume material and half finished sewing the Jedi shirt. . .then he announced that he wanted to be a Space Police man. . . an unhappy Mama announced that he could indeed be a Space Police man, at school, and if he made his own costume. That made two unhappy people. . .


Unhappy until I complete his shirt. . .which he wore for the rest of that weekend. And after I completed the cape, he loved it even more. He told me Friday (flying off of the bus with it on), that he felt like a real Jedi the whole school bus ride home. Ah, magic. [And ended up wearing it all weekend long.]


Luke, on the other had, wanted to be a sign. More specifically, about a month ago, he told me he wanted a shirt with sticker signs all down the sleeves. My creative boy [sigh]. So, I bought a black sweatsuit at Walmart, and painted a silvery road with fabric paint up the leg, over his belly, and wrapping around his back. Then I added some yellow lines on the road (don't all good roads have yellow lines?), and some foamy street signs with little brown posts. The foam signs were a battle. I bought them weeks before, and attempted to hide them away from little eyes. He found them a day later, and whined that he wanted them. And grumped. And moaned. And when he finally gave in to the idea that they were going on his Halloween costume, he asked me daily, Is it done yet?


He adored his signs. And happily wore it for two days straight.


Trick or treat was at night this year. . .for the first year in a little while. And, while we were afraid it was going to rain all day, it only sprinkled on us for a moment. It was a perfect night. Cool. Leaves crunching under happy little boy feet.
Sidewalks crowded with happy little people (and so many different costumes. . .Jack only noticed one other Jedi, an Obi Wan. . .). Friendly adults sitting outside with big bowls of goodies waiting for the children to come along. . . We had a wonderful time.


Luke ran ahead of us a few steps all the way. All over town. His feet never tiring. Bouncing along from one house to the next, singing Trick or treat! and Thank you! at every home we stopped at. That little impy smile never leaving his face. He carried that little pumpkin even when it was full to the top. Loving his goodies.


And goodies. Holy mackeral! I can't believe how much (yummy) candy they brought home. Their bags were both full to the top. And happily spent the rest of the evening (after a snacky dinner out with Nan and PapPap) checking out and munching on sugary goodness.
Luke's favorites, again the buttons this year. Although he only got one package. He happily tried the peanut buttons to discover that they're pretty good too (and don't peanuts count as almost healthy?).

Thursday, October 29, 2009

squirrel buffet

So much fun watching the squirrels in the backyard in the fall leaves. . .hiding their winter treasures: the black walnuts from the trees in the woods. . .

A week or so ago, the boys took buckets into the woods to gather loads of black walnuts (still in their little green cases). . . taking load after load and dumping them under the fort in the backyard. . .on top of the old [aquamarine. . .or aka-marine] plastic swimming pool. Laughing. Industrious. Having a wonderful little boy time.

Last weekend, as Sam and I made our Sunday morning coffee, we watched as Mr. Squirrel discovered this bountiful buffet of squirrely, nutty goodness. He sat in the middle, chewing off the green cases, one by one. . .and then scurried off to find the perfect spot in the yard to hide them away.


Squirrely Serendipity.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

the fridge magnets. . .

Mama, what's this say? [his new favorite game]



Hmmm... I suppose it says, wummmm. . .

No, it says railroad crawssing ahead. [Of course, my mistake.]

He loves letters. . .numbers. . . And right now delights in putting those magnetic letters [the ones I bought so many years ago for my Kindergarten classroom. . .love to see them used again] all over the fridge in a blob. . .



Although, for the past couple weeks, he's been making little words. Mostly STOP. . . sometimes LUKE.


Mostly, just mystery words that I need to guess [incorrectly].

"When are we going to Zeli Beach House?"

He has asked me almost daily for two or three weeks.


Not exactly sure what has brought this so fresh to his little boy memory. . .in a time when I thought the present was a burning, consuming fire in his mind, the past just a lingering candle flickering. . . But his memories, I find are a little different. Reaching back further than I would imagine. . . Little bits of this; little bits of that.

And right now he is loving his memories of Zeli Beach House. . . Especially his room there. . . That had it's own little flat screen tv to watch [where he delightedly laid in bed, mornings, watching SpongeBob] and had Lightning McQueen sheets on his bed.


The place where we could go swim. . . and play in the sand. . .

I tell him that we will definitely back. . . but not until it's summer time again. . . and warm. . . after the baby is here.

Where will the baby sleep? I ask him.

In my room. He volunteers without hesitation. So sweet.

Looking forward to more memories to be made. . . all too soon. . . at our little Zeli Beach House.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

quiet day. . .

No running. . . no lists. . . Just a quiet day, to rest my big baby belly. . . And just be. . .

A baking day. . .

Spending the morning in the kitchen. . . Making nutter butter ghosts for Sam to take to work. . .



And ghosts toppers
[inspired by Martha Stewart's Chocolate Marshmallow Ghost Cake]
for Jack's cupcakes for his school Halloween party.


And banana bread. . . The smell coming from the oven, filling our home with memories from my childhood. . .


As I sprayed the bread dishes with Pam, I remembered how my mom used to grease the pans before baking. . .wax paper dipped in Crisco. . .and then covered with flour. . .




Perfect and delicious, warm from the oven. . .

And then settling down with a cup of hot tea. . . my growing baby Santa hat on my knitting needles. . . and Luke, watching some Halloween Backyardigans... ... ...

A day not to worry that I am a million tasks behind before the baby arrives. . . and Christmas arrives. . . A day to just chat about silliness and Thomas the train. . . and sip my tea. . . and dream of that little bundle that is coming oh so quickly. . .


We definitely need more of these quiet days. . .

Friday, October 16, 2009

Broken. . .



Over two weeks ago, Sam was involved in a six car smash on the Parkway on the way to Pitt to do some work. . . I was on the phone with him at the time. . . chatting about the day: laundry, dinner, the everyday. . . He's stopped in traffic. . . Waiting. . .

And I suddenly heard noise. . . like he had rolled his window down and the rush of air and traffic was overwhelming the phone and my ear. . .

And then he said, I was in a wreck, I'll have to call you back.

Are you OK?

Yes. I'll call you back.

And I waited an eternity. My belly agonizing with Braxton Hicks in my anxiety. Pacing the floor; willing the phone to ring. Tears. And a million thoughts. . . a million what-ifs. . . Bringing back August from three years ago when he was crashed into on the back roads, just moments from our home. . .totalling our purple Sunfire. But, the Parkway. . . that had to be so much worse.

Six cars.

A dump truck speeding along 35 to 40 miles an hour. . .never stopping. . .who smashed into the back of a Verizon van. . .who swerved to miss the woman in front of him, clipping her bumper instead (and taking so much momentum out of the accident, I believe). . .she spun into the guardrail and the car in front of her. . .the older couple, and their prize winning Dachshund. . .they crashed into the back of Sam. . .who crashed into the SUV in front of him. . .

And our blue car. . .only three years old. . . broken. . .

Over $6000 worth of damage. And in the garage for a little over two weeks. And waiting to be picked up today.

And I am reminded that although it was our new car. . . one of our best we've had. . . it's still just a car. Just a thing. And how much worse it could have been. And how truly blessed we really are.


Broken in other respects. That way you glance around in traffic now. Looking for bigger trucks. And shuddering when they fly past with little regard to the traffic around them. Gone is that complacent feeling of just jumping in the car and driving. That tomorrow is always there, coming as quietly as today. That or not. . . what if . . . lingers. Pacing the floors in the back of my mind, cagedly uneasy. Touching each moment, each thought.

A not so subtle reminder that today, each moment, is so very important. To be cherished. To be grabbed, and lived.



Tuesday, October 13, 2009

he loves numbers. . .


And has again begun to insist that he is no longer four, but eight years old. . .

Learning to print numbers (very impatiently. . .but very interested all the same), and how to put them together to make bigger numbers. . .

Mama, make a seven.

How about please.

Please make a seven. (So together we make a little seven with his yellow crayon. . .and I am getting pretty adept at making numbers and letters with my left hand for my little lefty.)

Now we make a free. For free-D-seven.

Thirty-seven?

No, free-D-seven.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

she met me at the door. . .

after picking up Lukey from preschool, wearing her formal wear today.



Such an ornery girl. Any guesses as to what she was doing while we were away?

Poor Miss Bella. . . all dressed up and nowhere to go. . .

the bank of the Tooth Fairy. . .


He has been carrying around the tooth fairy's six quarters for days now. . . And, as all little things do these days, they end up in his mouth (ugh!).
.
The Mama in me screams and faints dead away at seeing this (she's stuck in the Victorian days, what can I say). . . Calmly: Jack, please take the money out of your mouth.
.
Why?
.
Because it's money. It's dirty! [All right, now I'm beginning to visibly shudder.]
.
But the Tooth Fairy brought it.
.
Yes. . .but it's still money, and it's still dirty.
.
But the Tooth Fairy made it. So, it's clean.
.
[Stymied. . .] Well, actually, the Tooth Fairy doesn't make money. If she did, she would be a counterfeiter and she would be in jail.
.
Why?
.
Because it's illegal to make money.
.
Why? Why can't you make money? Why can't you make dollars and coins.
.
And the logical person in me says, because you just can't. . .
.
Because the Tooth Fairy is not allowed to make the money. . . And I knew that they questions would follow of exactly where did the money come from. . . Is there some kind of government funding for the Tooth Fairy? A Tooth Fairy tax? Does she withdraw these quarters from the bank? . . . .
.
And it just doesn't seem enough. . . And, of course, it's not enough. He always wants to know exactly why. . . And I always feel like my explanations fall short. . . So I quickly change the subject to Legos, and I'm off the hook. . . for now. . .

Dear Woman with the Stroller. . .

and the wild 5-year-old who kept spinning the clothes racks (no, he was not listening to you, did you notice?). . .

My son, who was not sneezing . . . or sniffling. . . or coughing. . . does not have the flu. . . H1N1, swine flu. . . bird flu. . . malaria. . . or the black plague. . .

He is getting a new little brother in 10 weeks. . . and he loves babies (although your daughter in the stroller looked well over one). . . He loves to come over and say, Hi baby. . . because he is curious, and social, and happy. . . not because he is the carrier or some deadly disease and wishes to spread it to you and your family.

Your assertion to Get your child away from my child made me laugh. I really didn't believe that could come out of someone's mouth. But, when you said, No seriously. There's lots of disease going around. People are really sick. Well, I didn't take it personally (and was laughing even harder inside). I realize that your reaction is the result of the media frenzy about the swine flu.

But really, ma'am. If you are that concerned about getting sick, maybe you should be wearing a mask. . . or just stay home all together. Because, unfortunately, when you go out in public, you run the chance of actually seeing other people.

Just a thought.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

tonight. . .

He lost tooth #7. . .


He pulled out while playing with Legos (because he couldn't eat his Eat n Park Halloween cookie without it wiggling all around). . .

Monday, September 28, 2009

progress. . .


Right now, I hear the rain tip tapping on the living room window. . .and I am reminded [again] that it's time to take out the air conditioners, because fall is officially here. . .

Jack and I stood at the bus stop [can you officially call it that if it's right outside your doorstep?] this morning watching small yellow leaves fly with the wind. The Mama in me made him wear a jacket this morning. . .but thought better of it while standing outside. . .it's still a little warm, I said. Maybe you didn't need a jacket this morning. He smile, That means the jacket is working. So wise. . .

A busy weekend. But so happy. Making happy house progress. . . The kind that leaves you comatose by evening. . . eating dinner at 8 o'clock. . . and sleeping like a stone through the night. Bone weary happy.

A lovely pile outside for the garbage men this morning [although they may think differently. . .sorry, garbage guys]. After a whirlwind cleaning in the basement. Making room. Not just the shuffeling of stuff, but actually simplifying. . .and making space for our newest Zeli.

Sam has a new work area. . . and we made space to store furniture in the basement temporarily.

Cleaned out Lukey's room to make room for his big boy bed (coming next week. . .yay!). Moving around his train table and giving him more floor space. Moved out the rocking chair for the baby's room. . .

Cleaned out the coffee room. . .which can unofficially be called the nursery. This morning Sam left the little Christmas story leg lamp on for me to see. . .it really is starting to look like a nursery. I'm starting to see it in my mind. . . the rocking chair beside the window, so I can sit during the sleepy night feedings and watch the snowflakes fly. . . and hoping to find a tiny table to put beside it. . . the crib next to the radiator. . . and maybe, maybe room for a changing table (fingers crossed). So a trip to St. Vincent DePaul's is planned for tomorrow. . .I have sweet little vintage pieces in my mind's eye (coffee table, bedside table for Luke, and tiny table next to baby's rocking chair). . . Just need to work out the details. . . those sweet little details that will make the room truly his.

Feeling happy, content.

Wishing we could just stay inside today. . .and drink hot tea. . .cuddle on the couch and finish baby's blanket (two rows to go!).

But little Luke is looking forward to school today. . . so I will grocery shop. . . and dream. . .

Saturday, September 26, 2009

tonight. . .

We reminisced about a little boy who stumbled across the entry way to his Dada. . . from the gossip bench to the piano bench. . . walking for the first time, trying to reach the apple in his Dada's hand. . .


And tonight, for the first time, he put on a pair of ice skates. . . learning to keep his balance. . . and get up when he fell. . . learning to play ice hockey.


So proud to watch him. . . at first holding onto the side rails [for dear life]. . . and then learning to pick himself up when he fell. . .


And in 45 minutes, he was crossing the ice rink alone. . . sometimes wobbling. . . but finding his way. . . smiling. . . turning slow bends around people in his way. . .


Where did that little tiny guy go?

Thursday, September 24, 2009

the tale of the purple stop signs

Luke's first snack day at Preschool yesterday. . . I remember when Jack attended Preschool, all snacks were to be "healthy". . . and I agonized each month about what to send. Goldfish crackers. . .bananas. . .oatmeal raisin cookies. . . Things I knew he loved (ie: things he would eat and still be considered "healthy").

So, I didn't expect anything different this year. Knowing that Luke's palate at this age is infinitely smaller than Jack's, I prepared myself for heartburn, heartache, and sleepless nights. . . Until, that is, I asked Luke each day what he was having for snack. . .

Monday: Lukey what did you have for snack today?
Cupcakes.

Wednesday: Lukey, what did you have for snack today?
Chocolate.

Friday: Luke, what was for snack today?
Cookies.

Most days, cupcakes. Much to my Mama Disbelief. That is, until I saw another snack mom bringing cupcakes to the door on Monday. Hmmmm.....

I was going to go with the oatmeal raisin cookie thing. Still a cookie, and kinda healthy too. Until, inspiration struck, that is. . .And the creative cook in me whispered sugar cookies. . . .shaped like his beloved stop signs. . .

Ah, kudo mama points for sure. . .

So, after I sent Sam to work Wednesday morning, I got busy with the sugar cookie mix. . . the house smelled like Christmas. . . and I dreamed of little Luke's smiles at the sight of them . . .


Until . . . I went to the spice rack to get some red food coloring, and found it empty. Empty? Really? How is that possible?


So, with no time left to spare, this Mama had to improvise. . . It was either the neon pink or the fallish purple/cranberry. . . And I thought, Cranberry, well how close to red can you get?

Until I mixed it and realized the cranberry lid deceived me, and it was indeed purple.


So, my happy little Luke brought purple stop sign cookies to school for his snack day yesterday.


He didn't care. They are stop signs after all. . .