Again with the Bullets

You know if I have gone this long without a post, there is going to have to be a bulleted list. I know from my so-called career as a so-called technical writer that a bulleted list is supposed to consist of parallel items. This means that the items should be the same sort of items. So, what the following items have in common is...er, that they are things that I am now bothering to mention in the bulleted list blog entry of today.

• I went to a charity cocktail party a few weeks ago in support of an organization that my friend is involved in. If you have never been to a charity cocktail party, it is basically a cocktail party where everyone is hipper and more Seattle-ish and more socially and politically active than I am (none hard to achieve, really), and where there is very nice wine and super snacks. And at the end, you write them a check. At least, this is my generalization based on the one event. But here is the interesting part: the supremely swank lake-side mansion where this soiree took place, lent to the organization by the owner for this event, belonged to... the guy who invented Pictionary. Awesome.
• Speaking of drawing games, Naomi and Muriel have invented (and continue to try to engage us in) the world's most impossible drawing game ever, the working title of which is "Guess What I am Drawing with My Nose." As in, drawing invisibly in the air with my nose. So, it's a fun game, in that it is funny to watch your kid industriously draw something in the air with their nose, but it is not a fun game if you are the sort of person that enjoys succeeding at a game, because really, you are never ever going to guess. Wait, unless Muriel is doing the drawing, because she always draws Thomas the Tank Engine. Then Emily. Then Percy.
• This maybe deserves its own boring post, but I would like to take this opportunity, while I'm thinking of it, to encourage people to consider super amateur backyard birdwatching. This involves buying the Sibley guide, or some similar reference, learning the five kinds of birds that normally visit your yard, and then when you see something out of the ordinary, cracking open the reference and adding another bit of bird knowledge to your world. It is a shortcut to nature awareness (for kids especially, but for grownups too), because birds are everywhere, and when you start looking for them a little more, it becomes a little treat when you see one. During a recent run, I saw some gold finches and a cedar waxwing (a pretty good looking little fellow!) besides the usual Red-wing Blackbirds and swallows by the lake. Yesterday we got to see and hear a murder of crows ganging up on a raptor (maybe a kestrel) in a nearby tree. We also recently spotted some quail, which are not supposed to be around here. I'm just saying, it's fun.
• Jim subbed last night on a soccer team, and today has been walking around like an old cowboy at the end of a very long cattle drive. He had a good time, and played well, by his own modest account. This, in combination with the fact that someone was kind enough to hip us to the fact that we do get Univision on channel 51, and that Univision is kind enough to actually screen the World Cup games so Jim doesn't have to go sit in the "bar" part of the Mexican restaurant at the mall food court that we frequent, means that we are a little bit soccer happy around these parts. So right- Jim is Chinese, and grew up in Malaysia, and so of course is a lifelong fan of... Germany? We were happy to see them beat Inglaterra this morning.
• At the end of this month, meaning, this very week, Muriel is going to switch schools and join Naomi's school. This way, they will be at the same school for the summer before Naomi heads off to real school at the end of August. I am just a teeny little bit in denial that this is upon us, not only because I haven't really bothered to have a conversation with the good people at the new school about what to expect from Muriel, and what Muriel should expect, but also because I think, embarrassingly, that I am going to be a little bit wrecked at leaving their baby school behind. We have been going to that school every day for almost four years now, and they have been extremely good and loving to our children. I remember when tiny little drooly Naomi was ready to move from the baby house across the street into the toddler class, it was weirdly emotional for me. I made the teachers these (I realize now) overly elaborate commemorative gifts, and had a hard time not crying when we said goodbye to them. (This is all the more embarrassing given that of course we saw them all the time afterwards.) Anyway, wish me luck, is all I'm saying.

This is getting long, and I haven't even gotten to the part where I get your help in cracking the karaoke code, or force you to endure a tireless rant on the crap crap crappy weather we seem endlessly saddled with. Something to look forward to, right? But since you have read, or skimmed (no blame!) this far, here are a couple of photos from the all girls Strawberry Festival Outing 2010. See for yourself on the weather.

Aw, sisters.

We got the cop pedal car. I had to sit up front to pedal, so I kept telling Naomi she was the perp. She didn't get it.

Bollywood dancers. I am so taking a class, you guys.

Jumping house: three tickets.

Smaller jumping house with ball pit: two tickets.

Photographing children through jumping house mesh: Priceless.

We did get some strawberry shortcake. And look, warm enough to take off our sweaters!

ZOID

Naomi has a little mortar board that she sported last Thursday as she graduated from preschool in a wild not-quite-ceremony at a local park (an event I missed on account of being in Arizona). The kids' hats were made of white paper, and each kid decorated his or her own with markers and stickers. Naomi's has a smiling heart, stars, several stickers that say "Super Job!", and something that looks like a field notebook illustration of an agave plant. I picked it up while I was clearing off the table tonight (it made it into the house after a week in the trunk of the car), and for a few moments I could not figure out why someone would have written the word "ZOID" on the side of it, in black marker. Oh wait, 2010. Yeah, that makes more sense.

Today we had some friends over for brunch, and I did rather a poor job of having my act together in time to be any kind of hostess to them. Jim made a really delicious frittata and some bacon, which vied for first place in the yummy food category. My contribution was the doughnut muffins we made once before, and they did not come out well at all, never mind the part where they took forever to bake (?). I also forgot the fruit salad I had made, until about 3/4 of the way through the meal, promised a kid an English muffin and never delivered, and put my guest in the position of jamming up toast for my children. Oh well. I need to maybe practice a bit more on the entertaining. I'm feeling rusty. We still had a nice time, and they either did as well or are super gracious and good at feigning enjoyment.

Also, Naomi did me proud by marching into the house to show off the roly poly bug she had caught and was holding in her hand. Things got a little out of hand later in the day, when she amassed a half dozen or more roly polies and created a mini-dystopian nightmare ecosystem for them in a little tupperware dish, with smooth pebbles, sorrel leaves, and absolutely scale-proof walls. There was a weird interlude where she tried to convince us to let her poke holes in a jar lid and make a home for the bugs in there, or get a caterpillar and let it turn into a chrysalis, etc., and there was actually a point where she was on the verge of throwing the kind of fit that would seem more appropriate coming from a teen whose friends were all getting cars for graduation while she was not. Then we were in the dumb position of arguing about what comprises quality of life for a roly poly bug with a five-year-old who is convinced that a roly poly bug loves her and will be broken-hearted if she releases it to the wild.

In the afternoon it was off to Vince's, an Italian joint in south Seattle (or Renton?) that puts the Old back in Old School. It has faux brick wall covering, red-checked vinyl tablecloths, red glass jar candles, lasagna, gnocchi, spumoni, chianti, and most importantly, pizza, pizza, pizza. Our friend C. turned five today, and had the maturity and discernment to request a party at Vince's. The party room was decked out, the balloon/face painting guy was talented at balloons and just so-so at face painting (and weirdly, camera shy and not shy about it). I ate a lot of pizza, helped out with some pin the tail on the donkey, got briefly hit on by a very drunk retiree when I sneaked into the bar for a glass of red, handed out some cake, and emerged from the frescoed cave of Vince's party room into a brilliant evening still blazing with sunshine. In some ways, birthday girl C. is responsible for one great aspect of the life our family enjoys now, having dearest friends nearby who share so many of our experiences. Thanks for being born, little one.

Oh, one more. The girls were tired from the sunshine and pizza and cake and high jinks, and were more than willing to snuggle up in bed for a story (only a few chapters of Doctor Dolittle left!). Muriel sat leaning on a pillow, with a blanket over her lap, and Naomi leaned around me and saw her, and said, "She looks so beautiful. But she always looks so beautiful." Hee! And what? But so cute. OK, happy Saturday. Hope the sun is back tomorrow!

Away Game

This past weekend plus I traveled solo to Arizona, to attend some graduation-related celebrations. It is hard for me to believe that my niece, a person in the same generation as my own kids, is now out of high school and into the adult world (so to speak). Two nephews finished up 8th grade this year as well. My kids are in the second wave of grandkids, which means I also got to see a three-year-old niece, an 18-month-old niece, and a ten-month-old nephew. Graduates! Teenagers! Parents! Preschoolers! Siblings! Babies! And all in the zillion degree comfort one can only find on the face of the sun, or Phoenix in the summertime. (When I arrived back in Seattle on Sunday, the temperature differential between the two places was right around...50 degrees. Yikes!)

As sometimes happens when you are away from your children, or when they have experienced something out of the ordinary, my kids emerged from the other side of their Dad-only weekend something like six months older, and in Naomi's case, really, it feels like two years older. She is bursting with these long, excited ideas about things, which just pour out of her. She's always been reasonably chatty, but the enthusiasm and clarity she has when she talks about all these ideas has me flabbergasted. I have doubts about this lasting, though I hope it does, but for now I am really enjoying her new persona.

Wait, though, not all of it. On Sunday afternoon she became convinced that we should go swimming. It was already too late to go- we had to figure out dinner and stay on track for the inexorable march to bedtime (especially since Muriel had eschewed her nap). She did not like my answer, and began a ruthless lobbying campaign. It wasn't a friendly one, either. She suggested we vote. I voted against. She and Muriel voted for. "We have more votes, so we should go swimming," she said. I am pretty sure I didn't teach her about voting, so...? I told her my vote was bigger than hers and Muriel's. The idea spigot opened, and she began explaining that if Muriel stood on top of her, they would be bigger than I, and that would prove that their votes counted for more. I was laughing out loud at this point, and of course that made her furious (this is a great problem of ours- when she gets really serious about something, it is often side-splittingly funny, in the most charming and wonderful way, and I have only so much control over my laugh impulse). So I had to go along with her plan, and held Muriel up on her shoulders. Sure enough! The two of them are bigger than I am. But we still did not go swimming.

Both girls were extremely tired after dinner, so we jumped into Muriel's bunk to read a quick story. Occasionally they ask me to make up songs before bed, which, like the results when they ask me to make up stories, are super random and usually ridiculous. They always involve some player from whatever we just read or looked at (an elf, a seal, a snowy owl) getting ready for bed and falling asleep. This time, because I was thinking about how glad I was to be back with them, I sang a song about two girls whose mother goes away for a trip. The refrain had "Come back to me, Mama" a few times, and I noticed after the second repeat that Naomi was rubbing her eyes. "That song is too sad!" she said, and then started to cry for real. Which of course made me cry. Dumb, dumb Mama. What was I thinking? And then Muriel said, "Mom, something is coming out of your eyes." Hee. I had a reasonable save with a song about Brown Bear, headed to his lair with his brown bear hair, and then some loud snoring noises. Whew!


The ladies out luncheoning with Dad at the German Deli. Javol!

Don't Let the Moon Break Your Heart

OK, here's the latest. First, the girls have both started singing this old song from a k.d. lang album (Shadowland)- "Don't Let the Stars Get in Your Eyes." For the longest time, they only sang the first line of it... "Don't let the stars get in your eyes, don't let the moon break your heart..." over and over and over. Which was cute and weird and funny and maddening all at the same time. Which come to think of it is a reasonable summary of much of parenting these days. Now Muriel knows more of the words, and it is the bomb when she sings it.

Remember when Naomi was speaking faux Hindi all the time? Well, now she can write in faux Hindi! Is there nothing her preschool won't teach her? If I weren't so lazy I would scan the drawing of a bobble-head doll she made (which she insists on calling a bobby-head doll, and that's funnier anyway, so why argue?) which has all the relevant information along the top in faux Hindi. She also loves drawing paisley patterns, expanding her standard repertoire of hearts, stars, flowers, and swirls.

The other day when I picked her up, her teacher told me that Muriel had almost made her cry that day. During their visit to the diaper room, which, Miss Beth informs me, is where they often have a chat, Muriel told her that she was not going to be at the school much longer, and she wouldn't be seeing her anymore. Muriel is going to change schools next month, so she and Naomi can have a summer together at the same school before Naomi starts Kindergarten. I am never that sure what Muriel knows, though. With the second one, I find it is hard to ever believe that she is not still a baby, so when she starts walking and talking and demonstrating her capacity, I still can't believe it's anything other than a marvelous trick the baby has learned. But here she is, conducting a little therapy session with her teacher about the upcoming sense of loss both of them must face together. Yikes.

It seems like maybe I have written about something similar to this before, but it's happening so much lately, I can't resist mentioning it again. Naomi and Muriel get along very well together, but they are two very different little people (also, people like to say that they look so much alike, but to me, they really don't at all). And each of them is now old enough to observe the other, occasionally, with some distinct person detachment, if that makes sense. So a few times lately, one of them will do something, and the other will make eye contact with me, and we will acknowledge together something about the other. Mostly it goes like this: Muriel does something hilarious, like talking about something and then throwing a really theatrical face very smoothly into the narration. Naomi will look at me with a big smile, like, "Did you see that?!" Or, at the end of the day, during the tired and grouchy time, Naomi will become overwhelmed by her feelings of whatever (this happens, um, often), and cry and cry, and after a while Muriel will look at me and say, "She's still crying!" There is something about this acknowledgment of the other kid as a person having their own separate personhood that feels mysterious and monumental at the same time.

Now School, New School

I didn't really post about Mother's Day, so let me say that it was a good, fun, weekend of sunshine and family hijinks. Friday night we had a real grown-up dinner date, Saturday we went to the farmer's market one town over, and later had a picnic at Kubota Gardens in Seattle. For both events I practiced not thinking about rushing on to the next thing, and I have to admit, it was worth the effort it took. Sunday I FINALLY got the little present Naomi had been agonizing over handing over or withholding since she had brought it home several days before- it's a frame she decorated, and drew a picture for.


In the afternoon, she and I took a bike ride around the new school she'll be going to. I can't believe I haven't thought of doing this before. She loved peering into the classroom windows, seeing the art work, reading some of the words written on large signs around the walls. And a few days later, we stopped in on the way to school, now school, to drop off her registration for Kindergarten. This girl, who seems so big and grown up at her preschool, who is clearly the oldest in her Sunday school class, who definitely runs the show when she and Muriel are playing, seemed so Little compared with the kids walking around at the elementary school. As an aside, when we talk about elementary school, she talks about Kindergarten, first grade, and last grade. Are they in first grade? Are they in last grade? Hee.

Friday I took Naomi to her five-year-old checkup, also known as her must do before Kindergarten check-up. She was super good and healthy, growing right up the curve like she is supposed to. She had a vision test, at which she stood up straight and tall and got around (after a slow start) to reading the letters in her actual five-year-old voice and not the baby talk voice that sometimes comes out when she feels the need to be silly as a mask for shyness. The nurse asked questions about what she can do: Can she name four colors? Can she count? A couple of other funny ones, I can't remember them now. The nurse also gave her a sheet of paper with three symbols on it that she had to duplicate, and on the back she was to write her name and draw a picture of herself. She got right to work with the ballpoint pen, and of course did not stop with a picture of herself- she had to be wearing a crown and a dress covered with stars and be accompanied by a cat and a smiling heart face.

When the doctor came, it was a joyful reunion- we haven't seen her in over a year, not only because our children have been remarkably healthy, but because she has been out on maternity leave with her second little boy. She is the nicest, best doctor ever in the world, to borrow the superlative favored by my children. Not only does she take very good care of our children, and support and reassure us copiously about our decisions around their health, but she also appears to take real delight in seeing them, and in how they are growing, and just generally gives the kind of sincere and believable positive family feedback that you need every so often. Even though Naomi hasn't seen her in a while, she remembered the doctor, and how much we like her, and immediately adopted the half-spazzy dork behavior that takes over when Gramma first shows up, for example. It was funny.

Then, the shots! I had told her she was getting a shot, but it turned out to be four. If it had been one or even two, she would have come through with her extreme courage intact. But with two in each arm, I can't really blame her for crying, which she did only for a moment. When it was all over we helped ourselves to a sticker (purse dog wearing a sweater won out over Thomas the Tank Engine and Spider Man), and headed to the mall food court for pancakes (her choice for lunch). I had sort of envisioned a chatty mother/daughter luncheon, but we both just sat there eating, paying maybe too much attention to the other people around us. Still, it was fun to be with just her. She ate a lot of pancake! Then it was back to now school, her little arms sticking out of her sleeveless dress, two bandaids each.

Found Some Flow!

Well, it has happened: Muriel and I have been invited to partake in a play date with Muriel's little classmate and... her nanny. Her mom is the one who has been trying to set it up. She contends that Muriel is her daughter's favorite at school, despite the fact that she refers to her as Mario. I don't know that we will be able to make it happen, though I do feel a little compelled to try to accept the formation of some friendships through (and for) Muriel, since it occurs to me that we are amassing quite a delightful group through Naomi (something I didn't really anticipate...). And perhaps the nanny too is a delightful person and we will get along famously. I don't know.

Anyway, I am already a week away from last weekend, and partway into the new one, but I am still going to look backward to report on the kinds of grownup play I cooked up for myself. First, Saturday was May Day, so there were some cheesy May Baskets (paper cones) with bouquets cobbled together from our front yard. The flowers included lilac and lavender, and as a result were spectacularly fragrant, if a little garish and raggedy. Also, I finally tried out our good friend's bread recipe, which is of the wait around a long time, but don't do much manual labor variety. It was about ten times better than the bagels- delicious!


Last but not least- the sewing! Hand sewing is not something I am very good at, but I am just going to have to come right out and admit that it is ridiculously fun and enjoyable. I had a project in mind for Mother's Day LAST YEAR, and bought the fabric and cut it up according to the pattern. I just never got around to actually sewing it. So last weekend, with only a few days before the mailing deadline, I started to crank out the little birds (resulting in a total of 6).

Although the sewing was fun and relatively easy, the attaching of the birds onto the sticks, and the balancing of the whole thing was well nigh impossible. Jim was a huge help, and deserves a medal for coaxing me to keep trying with the final construction when I was ready to quit (and had in fact announced it officially). Even finding a box to ship the thing in was a pain. Oh well. It's there now, so like it, Mom!


My kids, of course, have no trouble finding their flow. I was thinking I should post once with all the "Pretend..." statements that I hear one or the other of them make in a day or two, and of course immediately after I thought that, Naomi busted out with the longest ever "Pretend..." statement. It was something like, "Pretend we were mermaids, and our parents had died, and we were under the water, and you were there, and we said, what the? Who are you? And then you asked us if we would come and live with you because you loved us, but then you had to make a spot where the water wouldn't come out, so we could live there with you, so you did, and then we came to live with you?" (Um, and so on...) Here's the "somersault court" that Naomi and Muriel constructed. The double somersault is quite something.

Busy Busy

Have I been off my posting schedule! Sorry about that. We have had lots of nice things happening, so really, no excuse but busy for me.

Here in the PNW we are in that period of completely disjointed spring weather, where a day starts out glorious and leads to a torrential downpour, followed by brilliant sunshine, followed by gray foreboding, followed by hail, followed by sun, followed by drizzle. This is normal, and boring (yes, it is boring to talk about the weather, I know!), but I bring it up because its disorienting effect is amplified by my work situation, where I work for hours ensconced in my little interior office/cave, and then go to the kitchen to get some water, and look out over the lake. Visit 1, lake is blue, but it's dark where we are. Visit 2, lake is dark gray, but it's sunny where we are. Visit 3, it's pouring, lake is misty and vague, and so on.

This weather also makes it more or less impossible to dress appropriately, or more importantly, to dress one's children appropriately. The consolation is that at some point and maybe multiple points during the day, whatever you're wearing will be exactly right. As my friend likes to say, broken clock = right twice a day!

Weather grousing aside, hooray that spring is upon us, bringing with it the promise of longer days and more motivation and planting things outside and bike rides and the whole shebang. This past weekend, I went to visit my girlfriend in Boise. It was supposed to be a Girls' Weekend in the grand tradition, but it turned into kind of a Mom Plus One weekend when her family needed her back urgently. The lesson of course is that Girls' Weekends work better when enforced by distance, and also, that they are super trumpable, and appropriately so. While I was gone, though, there was some Dad/Daughter gardening going on, which is worth a picture:


This reassures me that they did not just watch movies the whole time I was gone, though, who am I to complain either way?

Going back in time a bit, here we are at the beach walk put on by our church a couple of weeks ago:

There was some kind of extremely low tide condition, and to celebrate Earth Day, a couple of our church members who are certified beach naturalists or some such thing invited everyone to bring a picnic to this lovely beach park in West Seattle and get to know some tidal creatures. At church before we left, there was a puppet show to help teach the kids how to handle (or mostly, to not handle) the creatures. This was terrific for me, as I was teaching Sunday school, and it was truncated for the puppet show. Woo!


We saw sea stars (WA has some rad purple sea stars, as you know), anemones, which is fun to try to get Muriel to say, fish, crabs, and the amusing telltale squirts of underground clams.

Naomi was also very focused on creating a collection- she started with white rocks but kind of went from there. The naturalist told us that this was a protected beach park- you can't remove anything. So Naomi arranged her collection and left it on a drift log.


And Muriel thought it was even funnier to do the same thing with our shades.


OK, and one more thing before I forget. I read an article yesterday on a parenting blog I visit once in a while (here's the article) that really spoke to me, about how being overly busy really does make you unhappy if there is no room in your busy for activities of play or flow (flow being, I think, a kind of grown up play). How's this for a quote:

"Busy-ness does not make us happy. Muller reminds us that the Chinese symbol for busy is composed of two characters: heart and killing."

Being too busy does make me unhappier. But the happy understanding I got from this article is that even though being busy is kind of unavoidable, if I make time for play here and there, the busy-ness doesn't have to prevent the happiness. Though it helps to know how to achieve the flow...

Circles vs. Triangles

Today on the way to school, Muriel said, "Circles. Mom, I really like circles. But I don't like triangles." Good when you know your mind, right?

Here's some photos from Cali:

At Alex's house, you don't have to play music on your old saucepan!

Balcony view from the girls' bedroom.

This moment, brought to you by ice cream, happened while I was away at work. I miss all the fun!

San Diego Zoo, on a particularly beautiful Friday.

Yes, the cuteness. These three had a good time together! Also, check out my sweet backpack.

The beach in front of the Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego. And more ice cream!


This was in Long Beach, near the aquarium. Something about this place- the hills, the grass, the sunshine?- made the kids run around like maniacs. Muriel rolled down a hill over and over, and kept stumbling around. Then there was the tree climbing, the wagon pulling, and the overall cutting loose. Crazy kids!

Yes, indeed, it was quite a trip. I admit, I see why so many people think it's a good idea to live there.

April's Starting Big

I hate to resort to a bulleted list, but there has to be some way to impose order on the chaos of topics at hand, and I refuse to take the high road, a.k.a., editing myself. So, here goes:

- Sportimint Club: What is the Sportimint Club, you ask? What does Sportimint even mean? Naomi and Muriel have formed a club. The clubhouse is their room. There is a sign on the door, made by Naomi. There is a secret knock to get in (which I will not reveal, though I am lucky enough to know it). Other than that, people, I am as in the dark as you are. I *think* it's some amalgam of sports and experiments? Or something? Who knows.

- Little fish: Naomi passed her first round of swim lessons and was presented with a pink cardstock skill assessment and a piece of Laffy Taffy in a ziploc bag. My heart swelled with pride. More so when she shared the Laffy Taffy with her sister with no admonishment from me.

- Other little fish: I watched Ponyo with the girls on Friday night. It is a weird, delightful movie. Of course the girls' favorite part was the beautiful sea goddess (or whoever she was), Ponyo's mother. Those girls are a little predictable.

- Bagels: The first time I tried to make bagels (after declaring my intentions here), the dough was too goopy, and I gave up. I tried again this past Saturday, with semi-success. The process was fun, but the bagels browned too quickly and were not all that tasty. They were good enough to convey some cream cheese and smoked salmon to their final resting places, at least. I will try again, for sure.

- Egg Hunt! We were just late enough to the Easter Egg Hunt at church that we managed to miss all the chaotic coloring and egg hop and whatnot, and get straight to the egg hunting part. For the tinies, this process is much less hunting and much more gathering, so they just walked from room to room and harvested ten eggs (the limit). Fortunately, this year, there were no florescent permanent ink stamps for Muriel to decorate her face with.

- Five Miles: Also Saturday, I ran five and a half miles! Woo! Is this a good time to mention (did I already mention?) that Jim and I are half-planning to run a half-marathon in November? Of course, five miles is not even half-way there, but still, a long run for me.

- Cold water: Saturday night there was a loud noise in the basement, and since I had just been down there fetching up Easter basket supplies, Jim assumed I had knocked something over. But no, it was the hot water heater blowing a something or other. There was a fear-inducing burning smell and a little leakage. So now, NO HOT WATER. Which means, as it turns out, NO DISHWASHER. I never knew how keenly I loved my dishwasher, also, until I spent the whole afternoon cleaning up our breakfast dishes. Bleah!

- Mom of the Year: Only a truly awesome mom would be clever enough to enclose her two-year-old, AND her bag of Easter candy, in her room for a nap. I was so happy to hear how quiet it was for twenty minutes, and then Muriel emerged, a big ring of chocolate around her mouth. I said, did you eat your candy? And she said, just a little bit. Ha! She had eaten about two-thirds of her chocolate bunny and had somehow made a little hole in the carrot-shaped bag of orange Reeses Pieces. The worst part, of course, is that I couldn't act mad at her because I was laughing too hard, and I couldn't even really BE mad at her, because I am the dummy who left her chocolate in there in the first place. Naomi, even at two and a half, would never have helped herself that way, and thinking about that somehow makes me love both of them even more. They are so Naomi and Muriel, respectively. Hee.

This will be a hectic week, as we are leaving town halfway through for a more Vitamin D-friendly destination. More on that later... have a lovely week!

LATE BREAKING NEWS~ Jim had someone come and fix the water heater today. I am listening to the dishwasher whirring away in the kitchen. Happy!

The Face of Healthcare Reform

April Fool's! Naomi really got into the spirit of April Fool's Day today, though her trickery was hilariously straightforward. "Mom, you've got a bug in your ear....April Fool's!" Hee.


We froze a couple of bowls of cereal last night, and served it up this morning. It was a good gag for about twenty seconds.



Then there was just a lot of scraping and chipping to try to eat the frozen milk...

Happy Easter, you all! Have a great weekend.

Kitchen Dispatch

Jim has been on the ball with his camera lately, and apparently we spent all week in our kitchen, so this photo essay is the result.


I forget what was going on here, so, this is our kickoff picture.


This is the pizza dough we bought at Trader Joe's, inspired by a recent pizza night at our friends' house.

Muriel ate quite a lot of it, which is noteworthy only because of the very birdlike dinners she normally consumes.

OK, yes, the lighting in this is a little bit Touched By an Angel, but I include it to emphasize that if you are ever wondering why the poor Khooler children always have such sloppy hair, consider the source! Yikes. But we also liked the pizza.


This morning's conceit- pretending our worn-out saucepans were guitars. I was going to make a jam session joke, considering that Naomi was wearing a considerable amount of the stuff on her face from her morning toast, but instead I will relate that Muriel would actually check inside her pot to see if the audience-requested songs were in her "guitar" or not. Rad.


After dinner tonight, the kids shared a strawberry milk box. Naomi is pretty good at the sharing when she has a sense that it's her responsibility to be fair. But mostly they were just being coocoo. It really is too bad this isn't a video, because part of the fun is listening to them laugh when they really get going.

Tomorrow, in this same kitchen, I am *maybe* going to try to make bagels, my first time! If I do, there will be some pictures of that. In the meantime, have a beautiful weekend, friends!

Can You Tell I Started This on the Weekend and Lazily Didn't Finish It Until Today?

What a long, strange week it's been. Well, not that strange, but long and a little strange. Here are the two weird parts:

- Dead racoon. Fun fact! I am kind of creeped out by racoons. They are bigger than you think, they RULE our neighborhood at night, and occasionally we hear multiples of them thumping and scuttling around on the roof. It makes my skin crawl. On Thursday morning, Jim did a "Psst, c'mere" and asked me if I knew what was about this big, has stripes, and is DEAD. Ha! and AUGH! I sneaked out and threw a few pebbles at it, through the fence, to verify that it was truly dead. When I came in I did a creeped out jump around dance, which made Naomi ask just what was going on?! Jim and I both said- "It's COLD out there!"

Which it was. But Naomi is a subscriber to a nature magazine that features a little racoon and his friends (a mink, a skunk, and a beaver) who have good times in the woods and learn about nature. And who am I to pass along my prejudice? I didn't want her to see the thing. Jim used our neglected, lonesome snow shovel to move the remains. Lucky for us it was trash day!

- Creature from the Black Lagoon. The other day Jim called me and told me he was on his way to REI to buy something, and he wasn't going to tell me what it was, because he wanted to see my reaction to it, whatever it was. He had seen a guy at the mall with it, and asked him where he got it, and was now off to start making his own impression.

It turns out his instinct was right on, because when I saw what he bought, I laughed and laughed. And kept laughing every time I saw it. "It" was a pair of...shoes? Feet covers? Jim is mildly obsessed with the notion of barefoot, ball of the foot-first running. He has been trying it out, reading up on it. It turns out they make special non-shoe shoes for this kind of runner, and it looks like a scuba diving toe sock. I will take a picture of that soon- I realize it is irresponsible to describe this and not give a visual.

And now the good- on Sunday, for the second party of a two-birthday-party weekend (the first one was great, as well), Naomi went to a bowling alley! First time ever! She wasn't bad- on one frame, she even bowled a spare. Of course, this is kiddie bowling we're talking about- there are bumpers blocking the gutters, making it more like slo-mo pinball. It's the ultimate Zen exercise- the kid starts the ball rolling, you go and order a burger, eat it, make a to-do list, call your mom, find out what's new, run to the bathroom, and just when you return the ball has finally made contact with the pins. Cue enthusiastic cheering! Naomi was totally into it, not because she liked the bowling, but she loved the turn-taking and the scoring. And I reverted right back to my amateur woo-bowler persona, cheering raucously for every kid on every frame. High Five!

Naomi is also taking swim lessons. She is really enjoying it, and this seems like a good time tout the "lazy parenting is its own reward" method that I default to, I mean, espouse. Before I even thought about potty training Naomi, her pediatrician said I could start any time, but if I started earlier, it would take longer. Which meant, of course, if you wait to teach a child something until the child is really ready to learn it, the child will learn it lickety split. Which was true when she was potty trained (at the somewhat late age of three), and true now as she takes on swimming lessons, a newly fearless five-year-old. Also, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that her scarcely-teenaged boy teacher is named Ryker. I am sure that really is his first name, and that it is not the case that his real first name is Commander and he just goes by his middle name. Make it so, Mom and Dad!

More good! Luna's lame owner finally got her to the vet for an update of inoculations and a nail trim. We went to a new vet, whom I like very much- no aggressive upselling based on horrible infliction of pet owner guilt! Now I am more than willing to take her back for the dental cleaning. She has been sick, poor girl, from eating trash, about which perhaps the less said the better, and has lost a lot of weight. But she seems to be nearly recovered, so, hooray! More good!

Everyone's getting some specific air time, but I don't have anything for Muriel. Oh wait- today on the way home from school, at the intersection near our house where we always have to stop for a light, she watched a crow swooping around, landing on the median, swooping back to the grass across the sidewalk. She said, "I wish I was that bird." Yeah! I love that so much. I asked her what she would do. She said, "Fly up to the top of that tree, and then swoop back down." She actually said swoop. She also was rocking a funny Three's Company sloppy high ponytail today, just as a bonus.

Thirty-Two Oh Five

This morning Jim and I got up and dragged the children over to the local health club, where the first annual St. Paddy's Day 5k got underway at 8:15. The kids stayed at the "child care" facility at the club, at which, we discovered, $5/hour for two kids (and a not-really changed dirty diaper) later, you kind of get what you pay for. Oh well. Also, what gives with the St. Patrick's Day-related fun runs? What is it about St. Patrick's Day that makes people want to run five kilometers?

The point is, Jim and I ran a 5k this morning, and it was great. The weather, threatening showers, turned out to be sunny and clear and cool- just perfect. We puffed a little going up a particularly steep and long hill (probably neither, just seemed like it), but overall we did fine, and when the timekeeper read our time out loud (32 minutes, 5 seconds for me, 2 seconds later for Jim), I was pleasantly surprised. I assumed my pace would be around the 12 minute miles I can comfortably and pokily sustain on my occasional treadmill runs. So, yea!

After the run, we came home, and Naomi suggested she and Muriel should have a snack on the front patio, because it was just so "gorgeous." Hee. I couldn't argue with that. We went to brunch at our friends' house- a pair who met when she was teaching English in Turkey and he was just... in Turkey. So the brunch involved feta-inclusive brunch treats and Turkish tea. Mmmm. And the kids enjoyed playing with their adorable son (Naomi's age), but especially their older daughter, who is eight, and a sweet enough girl to make time to play with two little chicks who are much younger than her. It was a long, luxurious, very delicious brunch; I am almost worried we overstayed our welcome.

Our afternoon was actually kind of short after that. At dinner time, our friend and babysitting swapper came by, and Jim and I headed to Seattle for dinner. It was another long, luxurious meal, with a brief and wonderful interruption when an old friend stopped by the restaurant to show off his super duper cute 7-month-old daughter. Salt cod fritters, squid kebab, lamb, moussaka, and coconut cream pie. And now it is too late, and we have to spring forward, and I have to be awake and ready to teach Sunday school in a scant few hours, so I cannot even properly end this post. But thank you, Saturday, for being so delightful. The end.

Birthday Party Redux

As I type this, the girls are summoning first one parent, then the other to their darkened, supposed sleep room for various nothings. They had late naps (even Naomi!) and an exciting day, and I think I will be hearing screaming and laughing and squeaking and "Mommmmmmmy. Mommmmmmy." for another forty minutes or so. Oh well.

In the past, we had talked about the tendency, which can come more easily than you think, to overdo birthday parties for kids. So we agreed that every five years we would throw a big one, a kid party blowout, and then the other years, not so much. Since Naomi turned five this year, this was the year for it. A few months ago we went to a birthday party for her friend from school at a "play gym." I would never have thought to have a party at a place like this, but Naomi had a fantastic time at that one, so we finally decided to shamelessly copy that shindig. Getting a reservation wasn't easy, which is why we ended up having Naomi's to-do at 12 on a Sunday, a week after her actual birthday.

Here's where I win a prize for my fabulous planning skills. Instead of just getting the cake and the sandwiches from the same place, and preparing the takeaway beforehand, I had to order the sandwiches from one place, the cake from another, and decide rather at the last minute to have balloons instead of goody bags, meaning, a third stop on the way to the party. And also: a car JAMMED full of balloons. Cuckoo!

Somehow, despite the many crazy stops, we still got to the party place too early, and had to wait outside in the March chill (yesterday's weather was a one-day only engagement, sadly), in order to save Muriel from further complaining about the balloon crowding in the car. When we got into the place, the balloons commenced with some kind of suicide pact- at least ten of them popped. Jim ran out to get more, kids started showing up, and the party got under way.

Our no-presents-please invitation request was roundly (sweetly) ignored. Also, every foreign-originating parent congratulated me and shook my hand (on the occasion of my child's birthday). In fact, one of the mothers, who is Russian, brought me tiny, sweet-smelling, yellow mimosa flowers, since it is nearly Mother's Day in Russia, and that is the traditional flower on this holiday. (I haven't felt inclined to fact check that one.) But of course, it wasn't about me! There were obstacle courses, games, a swing, a trampoline, and all manner of running around. I think the kids had a really good time.

I felt a little bad that there was only enough food for the kids (especially when I realized how hungry I was). The astronaut theme was...under-realized, I guess, but the cake was still cute. At the end, there was a frenzy of balloon grabbing, which I will freely admit was super gratifying. And then we went home, put the kids in bed for a nap, and ate the leftover deli sandwiches. And tonight, the girls have finally fallen asleep, I am eating Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies, and the birthday season has officially come to a close. Ahhh.

Good Day, Sunshine

Picture Catch Up

Urge to post....late at night...too strong...cannot be ignored. OK, just a handful of shots of the birthday bonanza.

Traditional birthday pancake face. She requested this one, so I guess it is now a birthday tradition? I give credit where it is due: Jim is responsible for this year's pancake face.

Naomi decided to wear all the mardi gras beads Grampa brought. You can't see it in this picture, but she has one gold string of beads around each arm. Fancy!

I just think Naomi is trying to prove how grown up five year olds are simply by making this grown up smirky five year old birthday face.


Naomi's cake is a big old mess, as you can see, but it tasted pretty good. And she said it was just what she wanted, though I think she was probably being charitable. I'll take it.

Date of Birth

I think it is outright irresponsible of me to not post photos tonight, but I had to help Muriel fall asleep after all the excitement, which led directly to me falling asleep, and then waking up to discover it is nearly eleven. I am not inclined to hook up the hardware to make pictures move apartments from the camera to the server, but when I do, tomorrow, you will see Naomi wearing her flower girl dress (again), blinged up with mardi gras beads that my parents brought along, and basically cranked up to eleven. She had a really good time.

I had fun, too, actually. We put the extension in our newish dining room table for the first time, so in case you are wondering, 12 people total is about the best we can do at one seating, and that's if four of the twelve are kids. After dinner, Naomi seated herself on the ottoman as though on a dais, and waited patiently for everyone to find a seat so she could begin the present opening performance. Yikes. She was not, shall we say, appropriately slow and appreciative, which makes me glad we have asked for no gifts at her kid party.

Then there was the moment, when I had lit the candles on her cake (which she insisted on placing herself, after a fairly dignified acceptance that I did a terrible job writing her name across the strawberries in Reddi Whip), and we started singing, that I got completely choked up and could not finish the song. I can't begin to summarize my feelings in that moment, but I wonder if you ever stop time traveling back to the beginning when you celebrate the birthday of your children, or any child you have known since the day they were actually born. Beautiful, tiny baby Naomi is now beautiful five-year-old Naomi. Thanks, Universe!

Five Years Old

I started messing around with this blog post before I looked at the clock, and now that I do, I see that I'm about five minutes past the actual 5 year mark. Five years ago almost right this very minute, Naomi was born. When she (finally) came out, the nurse said, "Well, Dad, what do you got?" And Jim said, "It's a girl!" I said, "Really?" That's all I could come up with. I was so sure she was a boy. "Does this girl have a name?" the nurse said. "Her name is Naomi," he said. Just like that, Naomi was here.

Two years later, on the morning of Naomi's birthday, our friend Sochi was born. It's a good day to be born! We had a fun time at her house tonight, eating chili dogs and cake and ice cream. Tomorrow is Naomi's party, I should say, her first party (not the awesome kid paradise party- that's next weekend).

Care to guess what her dad put together, and we then sadly, pathetically improvised wrapping for?