Something you didn't know about Mike

We were on vacation (Rehoboth Beach, DE) in June. One morning Mike walked to the coffee shop to pick up our morning fix (two larges, black). He came back with just one cup, and when I asked him why he explained....

The coffee shop we favor has a fairly rickety screen door. It also has lots of newspaper-reading patrons propped on benches on the roomy sidewalk near the entrance.

Mike bought the coffee and stacked one cup on top of the other to navigate said rickety screen door. He made it outside, but when he let go of the door the top coffee teetered and fell, smashing in a hot liquidy burst on the sidewalk. Mike picked up the empty cup and the lid, tossed them in the trash, and turned to see many faces looking at him sympathetically. Mike, suddenly embarrassed, held up the one remaining cup.

"That's why I always buy a spare."

They "Help" Me

Last week Gage volunteered to make breakfast for me. Once assured that he knows the rules for no knives, no stove, etc. I said Sure. Ten minutes later he presented me with a plate, on which sat a perfectly reasonable-looking sandwich.

"Try it!" he urged. "It's samami." (Samami = Salami) "You like samami!"

Indeed I do. I took a quick peek at the sandwich and it seemed okay. Two slices of whole-wheat bread. Spicy mustard. Samami. And thick slices of cheddar cheese. Okay, I don't usually put cheese on salami sandwiches, but how bad could it be? I take a bite. I chew...Gage watches, with a hopeful smile. I smile back, and then my mouth starts to burn. I chew some more and try to keep smiling. My mouth is on fire...what did he put in here? Horseradish? I swallow and take a swig of coffee.

"Delicious!" I declare. I open the sandwich to look closer and that cheddar cheese? Is jalapeno cheddar. VERY, VERY STRONG jalapeno cheddar. I eat it on crackers, but I put a piece of cheese the size of a pea on each cracker, it's that strong.

"I know you like that cheese," he said, seeing me notice it.

"You're right. I do. In fact, I think I'll eat it a little later so I can really enjoy it. Thanks for the sandwich!"

"Okay, Mommy!" He runs off to play. Thank goodness he's still distractable.



On Saturday Gage and I had a lazy afternoon while Mike was working and the girls took naps. We sat around and read books, played games. I did laundry and dishes.

"I've noticed you've been doing a lot of chores lately," Gage said to me at one point.

"You're right, I have," I said. I pulled him to me for a hug. "Thanks for noticing."

"When I do chores for Grandma and PopPop they give me a reward." (It's true. They give him a dollar of "Pay.") "I was thinking that we should try that here, to see how it feels for us."

"Sure."

"I'm going to make a surprise for you. Don't come in the kitchen!"

(Oh no! No more jalapeno cheddar!)

Several minutes later Gage returns with with a glass mostly full of a chunky-looking tan concoction. He pokes a straw in and hands it to me.

"It's a smoothie!" He said cheerfully. "Good job on your chores, Mommy."

"Wow, thank you!" (OMG, am I going to have to drink this!? But he's SO SWEET.)

"It's milk, peanut butter and sugar. I used your whisk." I stir my 'smoothie' with the straw and discover that it is actually overwhelmingly peanut butter...probably 2/3 peanut butter and 1/3 milk.

"Okay," I take a little sip. Not much happens...apparently peanut butter can't easily BE whisked into milk...but finally a few globs of peanut butter slither up the straw and swoosh past the too-sweet milk. "Mmm," I say. "It's good!"

After that, I DID deserve a reward.



This morning Gage and Lila woke up before I did and "washed the windows" with a bottle of Febreze. (1) The windows need to be re-washed. Soon. (2) My house smells great!

The Third Child

Yesterday Josie was in her high chair munching on a handful of cereal and I was folding laundry five feet away. The overhead lights turned on, then off. I looked at the switch, and there's Josie...standing up in her highchair, turned around to face the wall. She has her hands on the back of the chair to balance herself and she's bumping the lightswitch on and off with her head.

With her head.

Needless to say I tightened the heck out of those highchair straps and our darling little Houdini will be under a higher level of surveillance from here on out.


Going from one child to two was easy...as was going from two to three. I was surprised at the switch from Gage to Gage and Lila - it was so much smoother than I'd feared. Even easier was adding Baby Jos. She has had a comfortable, defined place in our family from the day she was born. But strangely, it's more difficult with each baby to let them cry it out at bedtime.


I know, logically, that Josephine can't talk yet. But that doesn't stop her from babbling 'Ah-dah' whenever she sees Mike. It made me grin big yesterday when he kept redirecting her attention...she was getting distracted when he was feeding her peaches and yogurt...and she gave him a little baby glare and scolded, "Ah-dah'!" in this annoyed way. Like..."Leave me be, Daddy!" Mike and I both felt her wrath...or at least enjoyed the way it seemed.


We took Lila to her first movie over the weekend - Toy Story 3! (Gage's third...his first was Up, last summer.) She enjoyed the movie, for sure, but we should have prepared her better for the whole "You must stay in your seat the entire time" part of it. She kept squirming around, flopping left and right, forward and back, and saying, "Is it over now?" I tried to get her to sit in my lap but she would have none of that. She did, however, enjoy the box of candy and bag of popcorn we bought. Who wouldn't!?

And Gage, in true Gage style, liked every scene of the movie (including the fiery-inferno-imminent-death scene) except the one where the toys were rude to each other.

I know what you mean, pal. I don't like rude, either.

Yay! It's Summer!

Last night we settled down to play a game with Gage - a great, creative game called "Now What?" It's lots of fun and we play it often. There are cards with short paragraphs describing a scene, and then there are picture cards that you can choose how to complete the scene. I'm not explaining this well, but it's an awesome game and Gage really likes it and it's fun for me and Mike to play, too, unlike many (repetitive and simple) kids' games.

So I'm skimming through some of the 'story' cards, trying to find one that's easy to follow, since Gage is four. Many of the stories are geared toward slightly older kids. Mike is watching me and says, "What are you looking for?"
Me: "Some of these cards are a bit...." I search for the right word.
Mike, leaning forward conspiratorially: "Advanced?"
Gage, leaning forward conspiratorially: "Overwhelming?"

Well. So much for trying to sneak that one by him.



Lila was watching me prepare a whole chicken for the grill last night. I massaged a dry rub onto the skin, tied back the wings, etc., and she watched me all the time. Then she pointed and said, "Are those legs?"
Me: "Yep."
Lila: "Was that alive once?"
Me: "Yes, it was."
Lila: "But not in our country."
Me (hiding a smile): "Even in our country."
Lila: "But it's deaded in the store."
Me: "It's no longer alive before it even gets to the store."
Lila (quiet)
Me: "How does that make you feel?"
Lila (looking uneasy): "Funny."

I wonder if we'll have a little vegetarian in a couple of years...? I couldn't very well lie to her. Mike helped me out by adding that the chicken we eat is raised responsibly and happily, which is true, and I think that must help a little. It helps me, anyway.



Lila and Josie both had well-child visits to the doctor recently, and the doctor recommended that Lila have an echocardiogram done to see what's causing a heart murmur, which has been persistent since she was 12 months old. We went for the echo two days ago and she was a real champ, but we won't know the results for another several days.

Josephine is pulling herself up into a standing position now. She just turned seven months, and has two bottom teeth and her hair is beginning to lighten in the sun. She is a charming and funny baby. I swear she made her first joke. Gage often comes close to talk to her and stroke her hair while she nurses. A few days ago he was doing this, and she turned her head and latched onto his arm. He squealed and she started laughing. I swear she did it on purpose. She is also very 'talkative' lately, stringing sounds together often and loudly. I love to listen to her "Da-da-da-das" and "Mum-mum-mums."



Gage and Lila are both on a seafood kick lately - wanting steamed clams and shrimp for dinner. We indulge them occassionally, since Mike and I love seafood, and we're tickled that we can enjoy these foods with our kids now.

Gage used to be put off by spicy foods, but now is beginning to enjoy and crave them, as long as he has a glass of milk nearby. Lila has always liked spicy food, that funny girl. She got mad at me recently for finishing the buffalo chicken dip without letting her grab a final scoop.

Josie has just started yogurt and she loves it. I also love the yogurt stage of babyhood, because it is so nourishing and flexible. She loves graham crackers, too, and bananas.



Mike is back at work, and while we're very happy about that there is also some adjusting to do. I love having time with the kids in the afternoons, but without a fence enclosing our backyard I can't leave them alone for a second. I think that's what I miss the most about Mike being home - not having to herd the kids inside every three minutes to grab something else that we need (the phone, crackers, water, sunscreen, a towel, etc.). I mean, that's the most practical thing I miss. Mostly I just miss having all of us together for much of the day. That was really nice.



I dropped off the last of Gage's Kindergarten registration paperwork at his new school, so he's all set to begin at the end of the summer. My boy. My big, big guy.

Rice. It's so, so good.

I set out on a modest quest this past fall...to perfect my rice. I know it sounds small, but all the rice I had ever made before, like, December of 2009 was okay. And just that- okay. Not great. And rice is something you should really just understand, you know? Something that should come easily. I try to challenge myself a couple of times a year to really study, like, REALLY study one specific food and learn how to make it really well. 2008 was the Year of The Yeast Dough. I made so much bread, so many sticky buns, so many delicious cakes that 2009, by default, also happened to become The Year of Losing Ten Pounds. But I learned a lot.

So I figured that I could do something relatively simple for late 2009, since Jos had just been born and I needed at least a little of my wits about me.

Anyway, I'm not saying that I make the best rice. I'm not saying that I learned all there is to learn about rice. But I did learn one thing, at least, and that is that the instructions on the package DO NOT make the quality of rice that a few little adjustments will allow....

So make this rice, and tell me if you like it. This is our go-to rice now, the side dish that accompanies at least one meal per week. After a couple of times it's old hat...this recipe is from memory (it is so simple!).

Oh, one more thing. We try to eat pretty healthfully but I gave up on brown rice a few years ago because I missed the deliciousness of starchy, wonderful white rice. I missed it so much! We'll give brown rice another go someday, I'm sure, but for now we use plain old white, long grain rice.

Rice

Ingredients:
One cup dry long grain white rice
1.5 tsp butter (2 tsp if you've had a bad day)
.5 tsp kosher salt
1.5 cups boiling water (boil the water then measure...it doesn't have to be literally boiling hot when you add it, but it should definitely be hot)

Directions:
Rinse the heck out of the rice. What I do is soak the rice in a 2-cup measure in cool water for several minutes, stirring occasionally. I pour off the starchy water and refill with fresh several times. After ten minutes or so, when the water is more or less clear (the starches have been rinsed away) I pour the rice into a metal strainer and give it one last rinse...then let it rest on a clean cotton towel (to sap away some of the moisture - important for later).

Put a 2 quart pot on the stove, and turn the heat to medium. Put your butter in there.

When the butter is melted and sizzling a little (but not yet brown!) add the salt and drained rice. This is where your draining of the rice is important - you don't want a bunch of water hitting that melted butter.

Leaving the heat on medium, stir the rice with a wooden spoon. If it creeps up the sides of the pot, push it back down. Keep stirring for three minutes. What you're doing here is toasting the rice a bit. It brings out a kind of nutty flavor.

Add your hot water, jack the heat up to high, and stir until your rice is boiling. This will happen quickly, probably within twenty seconds. As soon as you have a good boil, give one last stir, cover the pot with a tight fitting lid and turn the heat down to the lowest setting on your burner. For me, it's just above low, like just between low and one, but more toward low.

Set your timer for seventeen minutes and leave it the heck alone.

When the timer rings you have two options - serve right away or move off the hot burner, keep covered, and wait until the rest of your dinner is ready. It stays hot and doesn't lose much quality if it waits there in the kitchen while you're getting other stuff together. When you're ready to serve, scoop it out very gently into a serving bowl using a fork, scrape at it like you would an Italian Ice, going one layer at a time.

So simple, yet so delicious.

Nursing Josie

Josie is a very active baby. She has never wanted much to do with snuggling. When you hold her she constantly tries to sit up or arch away from you so she can watch everything happening around her. On the floor she can get wherever she wants to go...either by rolling, creeping or (new!) doing the inch-worm. She is always on the go, and rarely has the patience to rest with us.

All of that changes when it's time to nurse. Especially when I nurse her at bedtime, in her room, in a rocking chair, with the lights dim and the air still.

When Josie nurses it's like her body was poured into my lap; she's like an armful of sleeping kittens. She lets her eyes droop closed and she pats my skin with her far hand, knowing that I'm hers and she's mine. She rests luxuriously, and her head lolls on her neck a bit when she's full. She lets out a little hiccup and blinks several times, grins sleepily at me.

There's no better part of my day.

I love that I can provide for her, that my body is still sustaining her. Breastfeeding is a nice transition from pregnancy to full-fledged baby.

It's Time to Move the Shoes

We have a toy kitchen for the kids (my dad built it for Gage's second Christmas). Among the toy foods are these grapes, over there on the right. A few days ago Lila found a pair of kiddie scissors, cut the string that keeps the grapes together, and watched as they all spilled off like a handful of marbles. "Oh no, Lila!" I was surprised. (But I shouldn't have been. Lila is very impulsive and naively destructive with toys and books. Also, she's 2.) "So-wwwwwy!" she answered immediately. I sighed and gathered up the grapes, tried to figure out a way to restring them. "Lila. We do not use scissors with toys. Ever. The only thing we use scissors on is paper, and that's only when Mommy and Daddy say it's okay."
"Sowwy! Sowwy! Sowwy!"
"I don't want this to happen again."
"Okay. I won't."

Later that evening I was telling Mike about this, and I wanted to reinforce the lesson with Li, so I said, "Lila, what's the rule about scissors?"
"Throw your trash away!" she eagerly replied. I laughed because she had barely let me finish my question before pouncing on an answer.
"That's right, when we open a package with scissors we throw the trash away. But what about food--" This time I didn't even get to finish my sentence.
"When you peel a banana you throw it in the trash!" she had a little bit of a wild look in her eyes, like she was on a game show and knew that she had these questions. She could do this. "Like this!" she held up her hands and began miming peeling a banana. Then, with a little "Shoop!" sound she mimed throwing the peel away.
"Good, sweetie," I'm still laughing, because we're not at all talking about what I meant to be talking about. "But how about toy food and--"
"You don't eat it! You don't put it in your mouth!"

I guess there's a lot to know, even when you're two.



The game we've been playing lately: "Cindewella and the Fairy Goff-Muffer."



Lila is really starting to understand joking, which is way fun.

Every evening before bed we give the kids an option of having a mug (warmed milk with Carnation Instant Breakfast stirred in) or hot chocolate (warmed milk with Ovaltine stirred in). We give Gage about eight ounces, because he's skinny and could use some extra calories, and we give Lila about four ounces, because she never really drinks all of it but we don't want to exclude her from the routine.

Last night Mike calls from the kitchen: "Mug or hot chocolate?"
Gage: "Hot chocolate!"
Lila: "Mug!"
Me (in a high-pitched voice): "This is Lila. I want hot chocolate."
Mike: "Okay, two hot chocolates, coming up."
Lila (grinning): "No, I want a mug!"
Me (squeakily): "This is Lila. No matter what I say, I want hot chocolate."
Mike: "Hot chocolate. You've got it."
Lila (laughing): "No! A mug! A mug!"
Me (squeakily): "This is Lila. I'd like a coffee, please."
Mike: "Okay, a coffee and a hot chocolate."
Lila (cracking up): "No! Not coffee!"

She was laughing so hard, it was awesome.

I hope this newfound understanding of jokes helps her with her knock-knocks. Here's a typical Lila joke:

Lila: "Knock Knock."
Me: "Who's there?"
Lila: "Tree."
Me: "Tree who?"
Lila: "Why did you build a nest in me? Because you're a bird? And you build a nest?"
Me: "Ha, ha. That's a good one."

I really hope her joke-telling improves. I mean, I know she's young and all, but jokes about trees? And birds? Kind of last year. Somebody's got to tell her she needs some new material.



Mike and I were having an argument several days ago, which, thankfully, is not very common. But it was one of those times when we each interpreted a situation very differently, and we just kept trying to explain why our interpretation was the right one, and, sorry, but your interpretation is the not right one. We just kept going around in circles, and while we weren't yelling at each other or anything we weren't getting along either. And we were just saying the same things, for like five full minutes.

Gage finally came over to me and whispered something in my ear. I snorted with laughter and my anger immediately fell away. I looked at Mike, who looked even more defensive, as if I was betraying him by interrupting our argument to laugh.

"Gage has a good idea," I said to Mike. "He said, 'I think you should just stop talking about it.'"

Mike smiled, relieved, and we did just that.

I'm not above taking advice from a four-year-old.

Not when it's good advice.



Gage and I go tomorrow morning to register him for Kindergarten. I feel like I'm in a bit of a different dimension. (My baby!)



Josie is 'creeping' or 'army-crawling' now. What's that you say? She's only five months old? I know, it's crazy! She actually started doing this at the very end of four months. She plants her elbows down and drags her body behind her, and she gets wherever she wants to go. It's amazing, really. She's very determined. She gets into trouble, though, because she can move forward fairly easily but backward not at all. So she scoots until her head bumps into something, and then she's stuck. We spend a lot of time rescuing Josie.

I saw her do it for the first time about two weeks ago. I set her on a blanket on the floor, on her belly. I noted that one of Lila's shoes was nearby, but a good four feet away, so I didn't bother moving it. Less than a minute later I look at Jos and she's chewing on Lila's shoe! (I know, gross, right!?)

So you know what this means.

It's time to move the shoes.



Mike should be back at work in another month or so. Cross your fingers for us...or knock wood, or whatever it is you do for luck. Please. Thanks!

Unintentional Spring Cleaning

Well, it's been a rather miserable week. We're all sick (except the baby! Knock wood!) and it's taken a lot out of us. Poor Lila got it first (Monday), then it waterfalled day after day to Gage (Tuesday), me (Wednesday) and Mike (Thursday). Lila is better today (Friday), so I'm hoping we all waterfall back to health now.

Yesterday I took a sick day from work. In the afternoon when Lila and Josie were napping Gage settled on the couch to watch a movie (with some moaning and groaning just in case we forgot how sick he was) and Mike and I started cleaning the heck out of the house.

I'm something of a...saver. I don't like to get rid of things. Practically everything has sentimental value to me, and it's a problem. But...I don't like when the house looks cluttered, and the only solution to that is to get rid of extraneous stuff. A couple of times a year I turn heartless and throw away everything that's been collecting, all the stuff we don't need. I wish I could get into the habit of throwing it away daily, but it's hard. I'm working on it.

Like...I buy these HUGE packs of construction paper at Sam's Club. It's 700+ sheets of paper, all different colors. I buy this once every three months.

Because my kids go through 700+ sheets of construction paper.

Every three months.

Suffice it to say we have a lot of artwork in the house. The problem is, all of it is beautiful. All of it.

Anyway, back to yesterday afternon. We lifted furniture to sweep out the collected dust (and marbles, and socks, and books, and raisins) from the hardwood floors. We sneezed. We packed up winter clothes to put in the attic. We blew our noses. I filled two garbage bags to the brim with toys from Gage & Lila's room - toys to be rotated every couple of months. (A good solution to wanting less stuff in their room, but not wanting to throw / give away all of their toys. Yet.) We sneezed some more, and took cough medicine.

We vacuumed everything repeatedly (by the way, have I told you lately how much I love Dyson's long, long cord?) and then had to stop so Mike could fish a plastic quarter out of the vacuum hose. Of course.

I don't know what was driving my mad cleaning spree, but I was glad it was getting done. The more we worked the more energy we had to finish - I swear it was like a frenzy.

In the middle of my frantic, frazzled orders to Mike as we cleaned ("Throw it! Throw everything! Have no heart!") Mike looked at me and said, "Are we...Spring Cleaning?"

Huh.

Yes, I guess that's what this is called.



In the evening, after everyone had baths and all the little ones were tucked into bed Mike and I put on a movie and got comfortable on the couch. Time to relax! Finally!

I was sleeping like a baby less than five minutes later.

Like this baby:

Instincts

When I had Gage a part of me longed to be more primitive, and I allowed it. I gave into my instincts and, actually, welcomed them. So much changes when you have a baby - I think my potential to function at a more basic level changed, too. Where my kids are concerned...I can't afford to think everything over. I need to act quickly, from the gut, and have a constant sixth sense of where they are and whether or not they're well.

Because it works, because the more old-fashioned or animalistic I am with them the closer I feel to them, I allow it to keep going. I completely give in to the urge to sniff them, to smell their sweaty or clean or sun-warmed hair. All three of them are completely used to me sticking my nose deep in the crook of their necks and breathing deeply, just breathing in their smells.

Since Gage was a baby I'd smell him and half-joke: "Yep, that's my baby," as if the visual or aural were not enough - he had to pass the sniff-test, too. Now Gage jokes with Josie - he smells her all over her head and says, "Yep, that's my girl."

I rub my face on their faces, on their heads. I feel very much like a lioness, and the kids respond in cub-like kind. They smile gently and lean into me, half-close their eyes and allow me to rub heads with them. We're like a pack of wild cats, all madly in love with one another.

I breathe in the air from Josie's open mouth, not knowing quite why but choosing not to think too hard about it. It feels right, on that primitive level, so I do it. Her breath smells healthy and milky, and she smells, in a word, familiar.

The first time I left Josie with our 18-year-old babysitter she smelled 'off' for the next several hours. It was the strangest thing. Every time I caught a whiff of her I smelled the babysitter's perfume. It didn't make me jealous or angry, but it made me feel as though something was just a little strange. And it kept happening - I kept smelling that unfamiliar smell and being just a little curious about it, a little alarmed. She didn't smell like my baby, and that really jolted me.

We also snuggle together, the kids and I, a mess of arms and legs and tickly-haired heads, and coo at each other. We make happy little wimpering sounds, just delighted to be so cozy and close. Weird, maybe, but I've never felt better than this.

Gage and Lila made up a fantastic game recently: "Baby Polar Bear." We take turns being the baby, the Mama, the brother/sister polar bear, and the two 'older', well, baby the baby polar bear. If Gage is the baby, Lila and I curl around him in a snuggling pile and she pets his head, I rub his back. We murmur to each other and pretend to feed him fish. We tuck his blanket around him to keep him warm.

I say, over and over, "I will take care of you. I will feed you when you're hungry and make sure you don't get cold. I will protect you."

He closes his eyes with a smile on his face, allowing himself to be entirely cared for (easier when he's a polar bear), and it strengthens all of our hearts, our souls.

The Alice Obsession

Lila's obsession with Alice in Wonderland is not going away. In fact, it may be getting worse.

Gage is OVER IT. He doesn't want to "play white rabbit games" anymore. He doesn't want to watch Alice (we stream the 80s live action version from Netflix for Lila), he doesn't want to talk about her, read her at bedtime, nothing. He's done. He will still call Lila 'Alice,' but that's only because she doesn't respond otherwise.


The weather has been great lately. We've had a few rainy days, and a few windy days, but overall it's been in the high 60s and sunny. Wonderful. We've spent a lot of time outdoors, and Lila is slowly and steadily "digging a rabbit hole" by the swingset.


My mom jumped off the Alice wagon quickly (and smartly), by telling Lila "I'm not a good white rabbit. But your mommy is!" Lila considered this, and accepted it. Now she tells me, "Grandma's not a good white rabbit, but YOU are!" (Thanks, Mom.)

Gage caught on, because yesterday I heard him telling Lila, "I'm not a good white rabbit."

"Me either!" I interjected, kind of frantically. "Neither am I!" My allies are abandoning me!

Gage fixed his eyes on me and said, "Yes you are. Mommy's a great white rabbit." His steely gaze clearly told me: 'You're on your own.'

So it's down to me.


I can't tell you how many times a day we play Alice in Wonderland. She consumes much more than her fair share of our daily lives. Since Lila's birthday is coming up (May 23rd) I'm playing with some ideas of an Alice-themed party. Lila would be overjoyed, I'm sure.


On another topic, we had Gage's preschool parent/teacher conference and it went very well. Gage will be entering Kindergarten in the fall! My big guy!